Gojo Satoru Angst - Tumblr Posts

I LOVE LOVE LOVE YOUR ANGST SM, WELL WRITTEN ISTG!! as one of my favorite angst writer, i had this idea in my mind for a long time. imagine you found out that you're 12 weeks pregnant and you were too excited to surprise satoru about it but when he came home, he broke the news that he got his ex pregnant. he was cheating and the surprise slipped out of your mind and you got angry at him and led into an argument... YOU CAN CONTINUE IF YOU WANT. I REALLY WANT TO SEE HOW OR WHAT ENDING YOU'LL WRITE. and also, make it a very very angst 😋

anyway, don't be a stranger g.satoru

pairings: gojo satoru x fem! reader

cw: heavy angst, infidelity, pregnancy, illness, mentions of death, cremation, as usual not proofread hehe

a/n: YOU ASKED FOR THIS OKAY?? anyways, happy reading :p

next

it was positive.

the moment you saw two red lines from the pregnancy test you bought, you didn't know what to feel at first, you were in disbelief so you tried it for the second, and third time, but the results did not change at all so you took this as a cue to visit a doctor, and there was no doubt in it, it was revealed that you were 12 weeks pregnant.

how should you tell your husband? satoru was barely home from his work after all. you knew how hard it is to be a new company's head so you understand him.

and so you dialed satoru's number as you nervously bit your bottom lip. he answered at the fifth ring.

"hello?"

"satoru–" you paused, and a small smile made its way on your lips. "can you come home, tonight? are you busy?"

"uh, not really." he sounded unsure but you didn't even noticed it on how excited you were.

"can you come home tonight, please?" you repeated.

"alright." he said as you heard him sigh from the other line "i– wanted to tell you something." he said and satoru's tone was unrecognizable, it was like his voice was slightly shaking.

"okay?" you worriedly said. "see you later, satoru. i love youuu."

"mhm, i love you too."

-

if someone would see you right now, they would, in an instant, notice that you were celebrating something special. you sure were prepared for satoru's return, you even wore nice dress and a cardigan as you await for his arrival.

and here he comes.

satoru enters the door and saw you approaching him.

"welcome home." you said as you leaned your face his chest followed by a kiss on his cheek. it was unusual on how he didn't return your advances as he walked past you.

his gloomy approach was affecting you as you placed a concerning hand on his shoulder, the surprise you prepared for him suddenly slipping out of your mind.

"what's wrong, honey?" you asked as you felt him tense up.

"you know i love you, right?" he said, and you thought you've read those words from a book before. you just hoped that the words he would say next wouldn't hurt you as much as the words on the book did.

you hummed in response as satoru turned to face you.

"i'm really sorry, my love. please forgive me."

"satoru, what's wrong? why are you– i'm scared." you said as satoru face palmed, his own body giving up as he was forced to sit down on the couch as he opened his mouth to speak and..

what was he saying? you sure you've heard it but, it sounds muffled when it entered your ears.

"i'm so sorry." he said as he stood up, embracing you as tight as he could so you wouldn't have a chance to step away from him.

"how long?" you muttered and satoru wasn't familiar with the tone of your voice. he didn't respond and it made your blood boil as you pushed him. "i asked how long!" you yelled.

"4 months."

"4 months?! 4 fucking months and you're just informing me about it right now? is that why you're not always home?!" you were screaming at this point and satoru tried to reach for your hand but you were quick to draw back.

"i already cut off ties with her! please believe me."

"satoru, you got someone pregnant! do you want the child to grow up without a father?" you exclaimed as you released a heavy sigh.

"it was just a mistake, we were drunk." satoru said as he embraced you.

-

"are you sure you'd let me attend the reunion?"

"yup, why? don't you want to?" you said as you fixed his tie.

"my ex is going to be there, though." he said and out of all the reactions he could get from you, he didn't expect you to smile at him as you pinch his nose.

"i trust you, satoru. i already did the moment we exchanged vows."

-

satoru was sure that the trust you had for him was already gone by now.

"take responsibility, satoru." you said as you push him by his chest.

"i love you so so so much, (name). please, i can't live without you."

"satoru, you can't just have me around while raising a child with another woman! what would people say?"

"like i told you, i already cut off ties with her."

"i know how it feels to grow up without a father, satoru." you mumbled as you look down on the ground. "it'll be fine. i'll manage, somehow."

"no–"

"why are you being stubborn!"

"you're being selfish!" he exclaimed as you gasp in surprise. selfish? you? how could he say that.

"you'll thank me someday, satoru." you mumbled.

"(name), please.."

"satoru. understand the situation." you weren't screaming anymore and.. why was he crying?

satoru took your hand on his as he placed it on his cheek and leaned on it, his tears stopping on your fingers and, you couldn't help but tear up as well.

"it'll be fine." you mumbled, voice breaking as you closed your eyes.

"i swear with all of my heart, that i love love love you. i'm sorry, forgive me. i didn't have enough courage to tell you sooner, because i was scared that it'll end up, like how it is now."

"it'll eventually come, you can't hide it from me forever, y'know." the storm was starting to calm as both of you spoke with hushed tones. "now go."

"let's talk about this one more time, please?" he mumbled as you slowly removed his hand on yours.

"then tell me, 'toru. what's there left for us to talk about?" you asked and satoru was, unfortunately quiet. "there's nothing, right?"

"love, please. i'm so sorry."

"what's done is done, satoru. we couldn't possibly go back in time and fix everything, right?"

"please." he whispered, hoping for something that he, himself doesn't even know what.

"i won't hate you for this, satoru. it's just– i hope you told me sooner."

"i'm so sorry. i'm grateful to have you as my wife, i'm sorry if i couldn't treat you like how you deserve it."

he really didn't deserve you. you were so understanding that satoru couldn't even look at you in the eyes.

"i'll say it as many times as i could. i love you. i didn't regret marrying you." he said as he cupped your tear stained cheeks and leaned his forehead on yours. "i don't really deserve you." satoru leaned in, kissing you and kissed back because both of you knew that, it was for the last time.

satoru left your apartment after settling things out. you fell on the couch as you felt something on the pocket of your cardigan.

"fuck." you muttered as you laughed bitterly, clutching the results in your hand, placing it close to your chest. you forgot the surprise and now that satoru have made up his mind, you knew there was no point on telling him anymore. grow up without a father, huh? now you're the one to talk.

a week has passed.

"hey." he acknowledged as he sat beside you inside the court.

"hey." you responded as you fiddle with your fingers. a gesture satoru noticed when you're uncomfortable. were you uncomfortable around him?

"how have you been?"

"i don't know." you said as satoru went silent.

"are you okay? let's stop this divorce if you–?"

"no, i just don't feel well."

"you can still change minds, y'know." satoru mumbled, anxiously tapping his feet on the floor.

should you tell him? it was a chance, the only chance left before you and satoru have to separate ways. but as you recalled it, he mentioned that his supposed to be ex was 4 months pregnant and you were just on you were just on 12 weeks, equivalent to more or less than 2 months. it was her advantage.

"it'll be fine." you said as you sighed.

"you always say that."

-

"so, this is it?" you said as you stand across each other and satoru looked to his side and he was caught off guard when he felt you hold his hand, he took note of your cold hands.

you placed the wedding ring on his palms as you forced to close it.

"no." he said as he placed it back on you after removing his own ring. "i want you to keep it. for us." he said.

"okay." you said, turning around as you placed his ring and yours inside your bag.

"(name)." he called as you looked back. "i'm sorry i broke my promise, to have a happy family with you." he said and you wanted to tear up but you reminded yourself that it's not the right time to as you smiled at him.

"find me in another life then we can have a happy family there." you joked as both of you laughed.

is it normal to be like this with each other as if satoru hadn't just got his ex pregnant? as if both of you just haven't came out of the court after signing the divorce papers?

"i'll come and visit when i can." he said, and you hoped he would keep his words this time.

"okay."

"for the last time. i love you." you do too, but this time, you didn't say it back anymore.

"don't you think sanyu is a good name for our child?" satoru said as you look up at him.

"do you want to have one?"

"i'd love to have a happy family with you."

"is that so? but why sanyu?"

"sanyu means happiness. it means we are happy that we have him." he said as you chuckled in response.

"and how are you so sure that it would be a boy?"

"instincts."

-

his instincts was right. you had a son with him and you named him sanyu.

unfortunately, when sanyu turned a year of age, it was found that he had a very weak heart. there wasn't a day where you and your son doesn't visit a hospital. he was just a kid but they already wanted to take him away from you.

"mama." sanyu called. there were a lot of tubes that was connecting his body and it hurts to see your son suffer like this. you always hoped that it was you suffering instead of sanyu.

"yes?" you responded as you sat on the nearby chair.

"papa? where?" he curiously asked and your heart couldn't hurt more. you were lying to your child all this time, that his father was not around because of his job. you'll have to explain it to him when he grows up though.

you held sanyu's hand on yours as you softly caress it.

"papa's not here. he's very very busy!" you said as sanyu frowned. "don't worry, papa will see you soon, okay?"

"okay. love love mama, papa."

-

you bit your bottom lip as you stared at your contacts. your eyes switching from the phone to the surroundings as you slowly became anxious.

his contact was still in your emergency. you took a deep breath but in the end, you just couldn't dial his number, proceeding to call the person below his contact as you place the speaker close to your ear.

"hello?" you said as you heard a small gasp from the other side of the phone.

"hey, how are you? we haven't seen you since."

"i'm doing fine, thank you for asking, geto."

"what's the matter? why'd you call all of the sudden?"

"satoru." you said as you paused, gathering some courage left in you. "um, how is he?"

"well– he's doing good."

"he is, huh?" you mumbled. "can i ask you a favor, please?"

"of course. is it about satoru?"

"kind of?"

"alright, but satoru's a very busy man now, that's why it's gonna be hard to contact him these days."

oh.

"don't worry, it's not about that. can you– can you come here at the hospital? i'll send you the address and explain it to you later."

-

suguru arrived earlier than you expected it to.

"i'm sorry for calling out of the blue." you said as you approached him on the front desk.

"it's fine." suguru said as he shrugged. "why here at the hospital? are you sick?"

"i'm not. come, follow me." you said and suguru silently obliged as you finally stopped at a certain door. suguru noticed your discomfort as you slowly opened the door.

"mama!"

"hi baby. i brought someone." you said as you approached your son.

"what?" suguru mumbled in disbelief and he was left frozen on the door, his eyes widening. it was like a child version of satoru was infront of him.

"papa?" sanyu asked as he tilted his head to the side.

"i'm sorry, sanyu. i can only bring papa's friend." you said, your heart aching as your son frowned.

"sanyu?" suguru asked as he approached the two of you.

"i'm sanyu!" your son exclaimed and once again, suguru could only sigh in disbelief.

-

"how old is sanyu?" suguru asked when both of you left the room to grab a drink outside.

"he's 4 years old."

"does satoru know?"

"no."

"then tell him." easier said than done.

"you know i can't." you mumbled. "the favor–" you said as you faced suguru. "can you tell sanyu about his father? i just couldn't.." you mumbled as you played the can of the drink with your thumb.

"alright." suguru said and you smiled at him in return.

"thank you so much. it's just.. the doctors said he doesn't have enough time to–" you paused as you wiped your tears with your sleeves. "sorry for asking you this, geto. you are the closest to satoru, that's why."

"i understand, don't worry about it too much."

"i just couldn't tell satoru. i want sanyu to know what he wants to know. i couldn't tell him because i'm scared that i'll tear up once i mention his father to him. they said sanyu's running out of time.. i don't know– i'll just have to accept it nonetheless." suguru looked at you in pity as he embraced you.

"don't think about it, okay? sanyu will live and so satoru will know about it. i'll help you with it, 'kay?"

"okay, thank you.."

-

"you look like your papa."

"really?!" sanyu exclaimed happily as suguru hummed in response. "mama said papa is busy.."

"it's true, that's why i am here to tell you about your papa." sanyu looked at suguru hesitantly as he proceeded to ask a question.

"hmm.. is my papa good?" sanyu asked as suguru looked at you.

"he is. and he loves your mama so much."

"then why is he always busy?"

"sanyu." you called him, indicating to not ask those type of questions as he frowned.

and so sanyu asked a lot of things about his papa like what's his favorite color, favorite food, what he hates the most and many more, and you were thankful that suguru was there to answer it all when you couldn't.

-

"thank you, geto. i somehow feel at ease now."

"why don't you tell satoru about this?" suguru said as you started to zone out. should you? or should you not?

part of you believes that satoru has the right to know but part of you doubts it. satoru have a family now, a family without you. how would people think if they found out the owner of the famous company has a son from another woman?

you were once married to satoru, it was a mistake to let him take responsibility of his ex' pregnancy but, she was already at her 4 months of pregnancy while you're on your 12 weeks, she's clearly at the advantage.

"i'll try." you said as you embraced yourself for warmth.

"he's free around this time every thursdays." suguru said and you only nodded at his words.

satoru was on his way to his office and he thought he caught a glimpse of you and, he wasn't wrong, it was really you.

"(name)?" you were startled at the voice as you placed your phone behind you.

"gojo–"

"i hate it when you call me that. call me satoru." he said, frowning at you as you laughed nervously. "you look tired. what's–"

get straight to the point.

"are you busy?" you asked, cutting him off.

"well.." he placed his palm on his nape as he looked behind your shoulders.

"dad!" a voice called as a kid you haven't saw in your life appeared beside him. "what's taking you so long? mom's waiting."

"i'm sorry (name)."

"no, it's fine." you said, smiling at him and satoru knew better than anyone that your smile was forced.

"who's she, dad?" the kid asked. this must be satoru's child.

"an old friend, sanyu." satoru said as he looked at you and he wonders what made you look surprised. "go ahead first, i'll follow after you." he said as his son started to walk away.

"sanyu, huh?" you said as you looked behind his son's retreating figure.

"yeah. sorry about that." satoru said.

"why?"

"i don't know. but it was supposed to be our son's name."

"that's all in the past now." you didn't mean to sound harsh but something just hurts.

"right."

"i'll take my leave then." you said, every step you take makes your heart ache as an apology for you son slipped out of your mind.

"(name)." he called once again as you stopped in your tracks but you didn't face him.

"you were right when you said i'll thank you someday." he mumbled and you knew very well that he was smiling as you gulped the lump in your throat. "so thank you. i am the happiest father, ever. even if–" he paused and you didn't respond. it was like he was rubbing a salt in your wound as you heard him sigh. "see you then." he said as you felt his hand on your shoulder for a moment before his footsteps disappeared, and then you took your leave after, going back to your son, who was waiting for your arrival.

but, why was this happening to you? of all people?

"hold onto mama's hand, mhm?"

"mama, sorry."

"mama's sorry too, i promised that you'll see papa but–" sanyu shake his head, something like disagreeing to your apologies.

"it's okay, mama." sanyu mumbled, the sound of the monitor beeping slowing down as you hold onto his hand tight. this happened before already, he will get back to normal soon, you were sure.

"mama loves sanyu, papa too. always remember that, okay?"

-

"hey (name)!" suguru called from the distance as he approached you. "what are you doing outside? oh by the way, i was wondering if i can bring shoko too? she would be delighted to see a carbon copy of satoru." suguru chuckled but he noticed that you were quiet, your hand was between your thighs as you stare at the ground.

the door opening caught your attention as the doctor came out after what it seemed like a year as he slowly shake his head left to right.

"i'm sorry ms. (name) but your son didn't make it."

"but you said he'll be fine! i am paying enough why couldn't you–!"

"i'm very sorry. we already did what we can." you were about to start an argument when you felt a hand on your shoulders and the doctor bowed at you before leaving.

and it all came crashing down as your body lost its strength, unintentionally leaning on someone, which was suguru.

"what am i supposed to do now?" you asked, the emotions you've been keeping all this time was starting to go out, all at once. "sanyu's all i have." you didn't even care if people watch as they walk pass by. "what should i do now, satoru?" you mumbled, voice breaking as you call the name of the person that wasn't even around.

-

"my condolences, (name)." suguru had managed to calm you down as he handed you a bottled water and sat beside you.

"i've decided to cremate sanyu. it hurts but it'll be for the best so.. so i could keep him near me." you said.

"i'll support your decision but i think you should tell satoru about it."

"no." you said, your tone was strict but it was quick to dissipate as you clutched the bottle in your hand. "i went to his workplace yesterday."

"what happened?" suguru asked.

"his son's name is sanyu too. i'm guessing you know it?" you asked as his breath hitched silenty.

"yeah." he mumbled.

"well, it was the name he wanted when we were still planning." you mumbled as you smiled at the memory. "geto, i trust you not to tell anyone about this. it's just you and me who know this, okay?"

"i'm sorry but–" suguru paused. "i told shoko about it." you were surprised at first as you sighed at him.

"it's fine. i trust shoko too."

"yeah, sorry about that but– i was really hoping that you tell satoru about it because–"

"there's no need. thank you for telling my child everything he wanted to know, geto. i owe you."

"listen–"

"geto, as much as i am thankful for you, please understand that i don't want to hear things regarding satoru anymore." you said as suguru nods in response, feeling bad for pushing you when your still mourning for your lost and now that you had lost your only strength to continue living, what should you do now?

PLEASE I NEED A PART TWO OF DONT BE A STRANGER !!!

HALOOO, i already started writing the part two but it suddenly became a series lol (i got too excited writing ToT). i estimated it to be 3-4 parts. i'll upload it one at a time so stay tuned if you're still interested🤭‼️

the satoru fic: anyway, don't be a stranger.

my heart belongs to.. who? g.satoru

pairings: gojo satoru x fem! reader

cw: heavy angst, mentions of death, mentions of cremation, depression, starvation, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of self-harming, please read at your own risk!! NOT PROOFREAD AGAIN HELP (i'm sleepy alr but i want to update TvT)

a/n: here's the part two of the 'anyway, don't be a stranger.' yes the title has changed. also based from a song a piece of you by nathaniel constantin. that's all, enjoy reading ;) PLS NOTIFY ME IF YOU HAPPEN TO SEE TYPOGRAPHICAL ERRORS!! THANK YOU <3

now that you had lost your only strength to continue living, what should you do now?

prev | next

satoru doesn't know why something in him ached when he randomly spotted his best friend, his dear best friend, suguru with you, on a random place and at a random time.

your backs were turned to him but he surely didn't like the way you cling to his best friend, it hurts him in many ways he couldn't explain but, satoru knew too well that he doesn't have the rights to feel that way, that's because every pain and sorrow that has happened to his life would be different if he didn't do that one big mistake.

ever since the divorce, satoru never saw you again. you left and none of the people you knew where you've gone to. satoru thought it was for the best that you should be away from him because the moment he feels vulnerable again, he would look for your presence, even though you weren't together anymore.

although sometimes, satoru do hope that you didn't run away from him. he wanted to fix everything, to apologize, to try things with you again. he never wanted anyone other than you. you were the only person that could see his other sides, the only person who knew him very very well, the only person he wanted to grow old with but everything was too late already.

he shouldn't have listened to you when you pushed him away and there, he would've never saw the pain look in your face when both of you separated your ways, he would've never saw the way you tried to stop yourself from crying infront of him, and he would've never saw the way you accepted to keep your wedding rings so desperately as if he would still be around you if you keep it.

satoru regretted every decision he made up until now, it was all of his fault, it was his fault why you had to leave, everything was his fault, you didn't have a choice because of him and he hoped that you've already forgave him for that. he really hoped so.

because of the heavy thoughts, satoru didn't know why his feet brought him to his best friend's apartment. maybe to ask how you were doing? are you still single? do you have a new lover now? was it suguru? are you both dating? oh gosh, he hoped not. it could be anyone but his best friend.

"(name) trusted you with it suguru, you shouldn't break your promise." satoru suddenly stopped on his tracks. that was shoko's voice, he was sure of it.

"but, don't you think he still has the right to know? satoru's the father after all."

"you're right though but—"

"what did you just say?" both eyes were widened at the sudden appearance as satoru revealed himself from hiding as he went closer to his best friends.

"when did you—"

"i'm the father? what do you mean?" satoru asked as he furrowed his eyebrows and suguru looked away from him. satoru could recognize the worried look of his best friend's face. "shoko?"

"well.." she mumbled, looking at suguru.

"are you hiding something from me?" satoru asked.

"it's not like that—" shoko said.

"then why do you both look nervous?"

"satoru." suguru called as he felt shoko's hand stop him and she shake her head left to right. "i'm sorry, but he needs to know."

"needs to know what? come on."

"satoru, you had a child, with (name)." and he couldn't be more surprised as he looked at suguru, lost and confused.

"what?"

"yeah, unfortunately, sanyu is—"

"stop." satoru said as he placed a hand on his temples. "is this some kind of prank? therefore, it's not funny."

"satoru, i'm not lying." suguru said, his expression blank.

"no. that's— that would be impossible.."

"go talk with her, satoru. heh, in the end, i couldn't keep my promise to her, huh?" suguru said as he placed a hand on his nape. "i'll send you the address, go." and satoru didn't waste any more time as he walked towards the front door but suguru stopped him again. "satoru." he called and suguru almost laughed at the worried and somehow excited look on his best friend's face. it's been a while since he saw that.

"what?" satoru said, cleary annoyed and impatient as suguru lightly smiled at him.

"be gentle with her, she's still vulnerable." satoru didn't get what suguru meant by that as he finally left, following the map where suguru had sent him.

you knew this day would've eventually come as you stand face to face with your ex-husband, he was panting and you were just about to go back home from the convenience store.

"(name).." he whispered your name as he took a step close to you, another one, and then another one as he started sprinting, embracing you in his arms and no one knew how much he missed feeling you around his arms. you let him embrace you but you stopped yourself from doing the same thing, you just stood there.

"why are you here?" you asked as satoru pulled away, his sleeve flying on his eyes as he slightly rubbed it. he was about to tear up.

"is it true?" satoru asked and he hoped you get what he meant with the question as you slowly nod your head.

"let's go inside my home first. it's getting cold here. i'll tell you everything there."

and there both of you ended up inside your home as satoru quietly inspected the surroundings. there was your picture and his son hanging on the wall.

"here." you said, handing him a glass of water. "i'm guessing suguru told you?"

"no. i actually overheard them."

"i see."

"so, where's.. um— can i see our child?" he asked and your heart ached at his question. you thought suguru told him already?

satoru didn't know what to do you when you started sobbing as you covered your face with your palms.

"you can't." you mumbled, wiping your tears as you look down on your lap.

"i understand.. but if you're—"

"you can't, satoru. we can't—"

"i know. i know you still don't trust me but i promise i will—"

"he's gone, satoru! don't you understand it? he's gone, he's dead, we can't see him anymore!" you exclaimed. everything was just overwhelming and you didn't mean to yell at him. "i'm sorry." you mumbled, once again, covering your face with your hands as you cry.

you felt his presence beside you as he wrapped his arms around you. he didn't know what else to do and satoru thought being close to you will help, being close to you will maybe help his almost shattering soul.

"i'm sorry." satoru said as he felt your arms around him. was this suguru meant when you were still vulnerable. he should've asked suguru to be more clear so there, satoru would know how to comfort you very well.

"i'm sorry, satoru. i kept him away from you when he wanted to see you. i should've pushed aside my own feelings and let sanyu meet you but i just couldn't, and now guilt is eating me up. it's my fault he couldn't see his papa on his last days. it was his last wishes but—"

"shh, stop it already. it's okay. don't blame yourself."

"i'm really sorry." no. satoru told himself he doesn't deserve your apologies and thinks everything was his fault to begin with.

"it was my fault that i couldn't be there for you. for our son. i deserve all the blame." satoru said as you slightly pulled away from him as you wiped your tears.

"it's not your fault either. sanyu was born with a weak heart. i couldn't protect him with that, no?" you said as you placed your hands on your lap.

"when we met at the parking lot, was that?.." you nodded your head in response as you recalled that day.

"that was the day after sanyu died." you mumbled and satoru couldn't help but clench his jaw. if only he knew.

satoru snapped out of his thoughts when he felt you sit up from the couch as you kneeled infront of the small table, taking something beneath it as you went back beside him.

"come, i'll show you his pictures." you said as you smiled at him and satoru couldn't help but mirror you. just for now, maybe you both could be happy, even just for now.

-

"he even cut his own hair, look!" you exclaimed, pointing a certain picture as satoru laughed with you.

he missed a lot things. when you were carrying his child, when his son was born, when his son was growing up. he wasn't there to witness everything and he almost– no, he regrets it so so much.

"i almost dyed his hair black 'cause he reminds me of you so much." you sighed as you closed the album, finally reaching its end as you place it on the table.

"we really do look like each other." satoru said as you lightly smile at him.

"you're not wrong." you responded and suddenly, it became silent.

"i'm sorry (name)." he started as you stayed still in your position. "i tried looking for you." he continued as he held your hand on his with you still avoiding to look at him. "why didn't you tell me before?" he said and that's what made you look at him. is he seriously asking you that?

"i don't know, satoru. do you?" you asked and he was completely taken aback.

"you should definitely go home now, someone might be waiting for you.." you said as you stand up from the couch, only for him to stop you by your wrist.

you looked at him for a moment and he did too. he opened his mouth to speak but no words came out as your hand slowly slipped out of his grasp and you turned your back at him.

"if you want to know more about sanyu, just ask."

it's been a week since you and satoru talked things out. it felt good to be able to talk everything with him. you thought at some point that satoru will hate you even more for not informing him about his son's existence but it was the opposite.

and maybe, you shouldn't have stalked his social and there you wouldn't stumble on his ex' account, because you never knew that it would hurt you this much, that it would hurt your already, broken heart.

you felt some type of jealousy seeing his family be happy in those pictures. they even went on a trip, on different places and many more. satoru looked happy. maybe if those mistakes were prevented back then, it would be you, him and sanyu.

there were missed calls and unread messages from suguru and shoko but you didn't have the energy to reply to each of them.

you just wanted to lay in your bed all day, almost wishing that sanyu would knock at your door asking for a help with his assignment, but no, it wouldn't happen anymore. you were all alone now, you'll never be able to feel happiness again, everything felt too empty for you to feel any type of emotions except for sorrow.

-

your eyes slowly opened when you felt something cold in your forehead.

"you're finally awake."

"what happened?" you asked as you tried to sit up from the bed, only for satoru to push you back.

"don't stand up yet. you passed out on the living room. you've been sleeping for a day already. are you eating? don't starve yourself." he talks too fast that you almost didn't catch his words.

"why are you here?" you asked.

"well.. i guess i want to know more about sanyu." he said as he hesitantly looked at you. "i'm sorry for walking around your house without your permission but, i saw a small shrine on the room beside here. is that sanyu's?" satoru asked as you nod at him.

"i forgot to tell you but i had sanyu cremated."

"okay, i understand."

"you can visit him anytime if you want."

"that would be great. thank you."

satoru did visit once a week. you noted that it was always on thursdays, just like suguru had told you that satoru's always available on thursdays.

your house would be messy if satoru wasn't around but if you knew that he'll be visiting, you'll force yourself to clean the house. you didn't want him to see you in worst state again, not anymore. he didn't have to know that you were starving yourself, that you would only eat when he brings you food.

he doesn't need to know. not that he would care, right? satoru is not in the position to care for you after all. he only visits for his son, it's wasn't because of you. maybe you should stop being delusional and face the reality that satoru and you couldn't work together anymore. he already has a family on his own. he has nothing to do with you anymore. a part of you is still hoping though but then again, he doesn't need to know.

there was a time where satoru visited you on tuesday. it was unexpected that he caught you almost hurting yourself. house and room messy.

it hurts him to see you like this. he couldn't help but to compare the old you to the you now. a big difference. he doesn't see you smile anymore. he doesn't hear your laugh anymore.

"you needn't to hurt yourself, okay? tell me if i can help in any way." he said as you sit on the couch, knees close to your chest as you stare at nothing.

your thoughts was playing with you because all of the sudden, you recalled everything that has happened between you and satoru. his mistakes, his wrongdoings, his happy family. your blood started to boil and you couldn't help but blame him in your mind. that it was his fault why sanyu have to suffer.

"hey, i know it still hurting you but—"

"you know nothing!" you exclaimed which took him off guard. he was unfamiliar with that look in your face.

"(name), calm down." he said as he tried to reach for you, only for you to slap his hand away.

"shut up! don't order me around! can you just leave my house?" you yelled. "this is all your fault." you mumbled and satoru heard it loud and clear. you weren't wrong though. "leave! i don't want to see you anymore. i hate you."

-

and even if you push him as many times as you want, satoru would not lose hope. he still visits you and sanyu. though he took note of the changes in your mood sometimes.

satoru visited late than usual. you already fell asleep on the couch. you swore you weren't waiting for him or something. it just happened that you got tired from the cleaning the house.

after the usual visit of you and satoru in your child's room both decided to eat the food he brought.

"sorry i was late. i had a hard time choosing a ring—" he cuts off himself with a fake cough as he looked away from you. "anyway, sorry for making you wait."

"it's fine. thank you for bringing me food."

"of course."

today, you seemed a lot more good now. satoru can notice you smile everytime. he didn't want to assume that you're smiling because of him though.

"is there something wrong?" he asked when he noticed you staring at him.

"i'm fine. thank you for visiting." you said as you walked satoru at the front door. "oh wait." you said, walking back to your room as satoru stood still on the front door and you went back after a minute.

"take this." you said, handing him a certain necklace.

"for me?" satoru said, taking the necklace in your hand.

"i asked them to put a little bit of sanyu ashes inside. you can't open that anymore since they locked it." satoru's eyes widened at your words.

"thank you." he said as you smiled at him.

"here, let me help." you said, as you wear the necklace on him. "sanyu will always be by your side, wherever you are." you said as you smiled and suddenly, satoru turned around, his face was too close to you and you think he could almost hear on how loud your beating heart is.

you awkwardly took a step back as you cleared your throat to ease the awkward tension.

"thank you (name), really. i will treasure this." he said as you smiled at him, for the last time.

"sorry for yelling at you sometimes, satoru."

"don't worry, i understand. just let me know if you want to release some stress. i'll try my best to help." he said and despite of answering, you only smiled, again.

"thank you, satoru. sanyu was the best son i could ever have." you said and he suddenly placed a hand on your head. like how he always does before as he leaned to your level.

"thank you for raising our child." he said as you look at him with widened eyes and you couldn't help but frown as you place a hand close to your chest.

stop giving me false hope, satoru.

"take care." you couldn't help but tear up as you whispered those words as satoru left. be happy, always. even if it's without me.

"i had a hard time choosing a ring." you mumbled, mimicking his words.

you smiled but what you were feeling inside was opposite. maybe you shouldn't expect too much because in the end, if reality didn't reach your expectations, it'll just hurt you more.

it really hurts to think that you made a man for another woman but, it is what it is. you're just glad that satoru seemed to cherish his new family now.

he did changed a lot, huh.

"satoru."

"be quick, suguru. i'm a bit busy right now." satoru said as he heard his best friend sigh at the other line.

"did (name) said something to you?" satoru immediately sat properly on his office chair when he heard your name.

"nothing much. she gave me a necklace though, why?"

"i see. look, if you have time today come in her house."

"why? what happened?"

"do you have a time today, at least?"

"i guess i could try." satoru said. "is there something wrong with (name)." satoru asked and there was a long pause from suguru's end before he answered.

-

satoru went back from what it seemed like a long trip as he sat on his office chair.

he stared at a certain velvet box on his table. his black glasses was discarded as he lightly move the office chair left to right.

he did had a hard time choosing a ring. he doesn't know of you still like the same design. did you change your preferences?he doesn't know that's why satoru bought a limited edition ring for you. he was told that the ring brings luck and now he just wanted to throw the ring in the middle of an ocean.

"brings luck my ass." he muttered. he was too tired to think. he refused to believe suguru's words because he just saw you 2 days ago. was suguru playing pranks on him again?

"she's been found in her room. unalive." suguru's words kept repeating inside his head like a broken radio as he clutched the necklace on his hand.

he was supposed to ask you to start over again, to try things out again, from there, he swore that he wouldn't do the same mistake again but it was all too late now.

maybe the universe didn't want you and him to be together again that's why they took you away from him, his son too. he knew he did mistakes back then but was it too much that they have to take his family away forever?

yeah, this must be his punishment for doing those unforgiving things to you.

-

"suguru, do you think (name) would agree if i ask her to start over again?"

"there's nothing wrong with trying, satoru, but know that people tend to change. don't be surprised when she doesn't want you in her life anymore." suguru said as his best friend kept quiet. "but what about them?"

"who?"

"your ex and your son."

"i couldn't care less about her, but i still cherish sanyu since he grew up with me, even if he's not my legal child."

"you don't really want to tell (name) about it?" suguru suggested and satoru couldn't help but think if he could do what his best friend is suggesting.

"what's the point? will it change everything?" satoru mumble, an ache going straight to his chest. "it hurts for me to say this but i only accepted to raise sanyu because i couldn't stop thinking of (name), of having a family with her. i forced myself to believe that he's our son. i didn't even know that (name) is actually carrying our child."

"why don't you just sue your ex for paternity fraud?"

"there's no point in it. she's still sanyu's mother."

"you're too nice, satoru."

no, he wasn't. in fact, he almost sent his ex to prison but he couldn't stop thinking of how sanyu will react if he found out that his mother was sent to jail by his father. he was too young for those things.

but satoru asks himself, why? why does he have to do these things? why does he have to think of how sanyu would feel? they weren't relatives anyway. he could take everything he spent for raising sanyu, he could just leave them to live their own life, but he just couldn't do it.

"if only i could go back in time." satoru mumbled and suguru didn't know what do respond to that anymore. if only.

tags: @skylarlyn823 @mo0nforme @mor-pheus @he4rts444mi @bubblysunwoosworld @arieltate @imaniitheoneee @kaiiriiis @ichikanu @witchbybirth @yoimiya-m @hojoslutoru @itsvalomfg I COULDN'T TAG THE OTHERS SORRY TvT

Sundered⁺ : CATHARSIS

Big thanks to @mikeyslvrr for commissioning this piece! ♡

Pairing: Gojo x reader

• Part 1  |  Part 2   | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Alt. Ending | Sundered⁺ Genre: Angst tags/cw: angst, babydaddy!gojo, babymomma!reader word count: 5.6k

Have your pieces been carried by the waves, swept away from this city that whispers his name everywhere you go?

Satoru woke up from a hard smack on his shoulder. “What is wrong with you? You kept grunting in your sleep.” You walked away, fixing your belt. “You’re leaving?” He muttered, heart still racing as he ran a hand down his face, thinking of his dream where you got mad at him and left with Yui.

Satoru's pretty sure that if he died today, he would get seven minutes of all the moments he had hurt you, not seven minutes of happy moments. Sometimes all the wrong things he did would catch up to him and haunt him in his sleep; where he can almost physically feel the pain he caused emitting from your skin because he chose to be a better man for someone else. 

“Uh, yes. Isn’t that why you volunteered to babysit? He watched you reapply your lipstick. Satoru found himself licking his lips, spacing out. “Oh yeah,” He sighed, realizing that he just fell asleep after snack time with Yui. He overheard you asking your Mom to babysit Yui while you go out and he volunteered.

You’re going out. On a date. At night. With a guy.

He blinked fast like it could wipe away his heart-wrenching thoughts. It’s just a date, he told himself, reminding himself of his place in your life and how he doesn’t have the right to be…territorial and possessive over you. 

“I, uh, haha, ‘had a really deep nap’” He scratched his head. There were a lot of things going on inside his head but hugging you was the hardest to control. If he begged you not to go, would you listen? But he promised to support your happiness. 

Satoru and you have been having a very healthy co-parenting relationship, and you're more comfortable around each other now. Although you never mentioned anything about taking him back, he just can't let go of his hope. If he gave up, he feared to end up like his father. 

Lose the woman he loves, his family, forever. That's his biggest fear. He’d probably just drop dead without warning if it happens.

“I won’t be out so late.” You rushed to check on your sleeping doll in her room. “Her screen time, Satoru.” You reminded him as you looked at yourself in the mirror. Satoru could only hum in response, mesmerized. He wished he could go out on date nights with you too.

Tapping his shoulder, you left him daydreaming in the middle of aftershocks from a nightmare.

———————————————

“Yui, do you think Mama still loves Dada?” He asked absentmindedly, juggling a toy in his hand while his daughter was lost in the movie. He didn't think she was listening to him, but she replied with a simple, “No.” He stared at the side of her face for a minute before sighing, afraid that she might be right.

“Mama wuv Yui.” She pointed at her chest, leaving Satoru in awe. “Of course. Dada loves you as well.” He was trying to let go of the weight on his chest but tragically failed when he remembered the words he said to you that fateful day. It was one of the days he regretted the most. 

That, and the day he chose to give up on your relationship.He can see himself spending his whole life proving his love to you as long as you let him. 

The wait was agonizing. He feels like his oxygen levels get significantly lower with each passing hour. He paced around the kitchen after lulling his child to sleep. It’s 9:27 PM and just as he was about to check his phone, the door opened. “Oh, it’s been a while since I ate out with a friend alone.” You sighed, a small smile playing on your lips. Satoru just stood there nervously.

“W-welcome home. How did your…date go?” He kind of regrets asking that because it felt like he was intruding, but you smiled, taking your shoes off. “It was fun, a little breather. Where’s Yui?” You walked to Yui’s room and Satoru couldn’t help but breathe in as you passed by him.

You smelled of…your cologne. He let out a sigh of relief. But did he feel relieved? No. It’s just the first date. There could be a second, third, and fourth date. Then, you’ll be together, and God…what will become of him?

“Did you go home by yourself?” He followed you. “Of course not. He dropped me off.” Damn it. He should’ve waited by the window so he could see him. “He got Yui a little something.” You pulled a little bear keychain from your bag, and Satoru couldn’t help the painful contractions in his heart.

That motherfucker prepared. He cursed internally, smiling a little too hard as you showed it to him. “Guess I’ll just give it to her tomorrow.” You both kissed your daughter good night before leaving the room. He felt a splitting headache coming on. He hasn’t stopped thinking since this afternoon.

As Satoru left, he took in the small smile on your face as you closed the door. You’re really happy. Now, he’s curious about this guy. Closing his eyes, he squeezed the steering wheel. It was that feeling with Toji again, and this time it’s worse because he has to witness you slowly fall in love with someone new.

He felt like running back inside and begging you to just let him begin again like that too. But that would be too much of an imposition, especially for someone who almost ruined your perception of love.

What he can only do is go home, suck it up, and sleep.

———————————————

The following weeks have been nothing but torture for Satoru. The second time, you went out with a couple of friends but that didn’t change anything for him. And now,  you’re meeting up again, and despite being told that your mom can do it when it’s not his schedule, he still insisted on babysitting.

Now he’s once again sitting on your couch, elbows on his knees. What would he do if you called him and told him you won’t be home tonight? No, no, he doubts that. You’re too hands-on with Yui, no way you’ll just decide like that. But…What if? He shot up from the seat to peek at the window when he saw headlights from outside.

You’re still inside the car. Images started flashing before his eyes and he could tell he was just a pinch away from bursting out the door to get your attention. Satoru’s hand moved up to his chest in relief when you stepped out. He probably kissed her. His brain whispered and Satoru was forced to gulp the pain.

He’s gonna have to see it one day and he will have no choice but to look away.

Sitting down when he saw you walk to the door, he rubbed his eyes quickly before pretending to be on his phone. “Hi,” You smiled at him, “I got home late.” You sighed, glancing at your wristwatch. “It’s alright, Yui was being so good, she slept early.” He ran a hand through his hair and walked behind you.

Kissing your daughter’s cheeks, you looked up at him. “You know, I was wondering if it’s fine to take Yui with us to the theme park next time?” You stood up, heading to the kitchen. “I mean, I’ll be there, I just want to tell you since you’re her parent too.” You continued, unaware of the thoughts in his head.

This kitchen. 

He felt nauseous watching you stand there, leaning on the counter like you did when you had your big fight. He thinks this sensitivity stems from all that has happened to him and your family.

“What do you think? You can meet him before we go—” You explained but he just stood there, shaking his head as he licked his lips. “I don’t know. I mean, I know you won’t let anything happen to her but…” He inhaled sharply, should he admit that he was jealous? You wait for him to finish talking but he doesn’t know what else to say.

“Is he…Are you guys getting serious?” He tried to smile genuinely. “Ah…” Sighing, he continued, “I guess I was just being…overprotective. Sure, y-you can take her. I mean, I’m sure he’s a good guy if he—” Straightening up, you crossed your arms, perplexed. “Satoru, what’s going on? What are you thinking?” He can’t give a reason. He just bit his lip.

“N-nothing.” His eyes feel heavy, he just wants to sleep. He starting to feel…defeated. “I just got a bit…I guess protective because a…a new person is gonna be around my child but,” He nodded awkwardly, desperate to convince you and hide his feelings, “It’s alright. You’re with her. Yeah, it’s okay.” He was about to bid goodbye, but your curious eyes froze him in place. 

“Alright,” A sigh of relief escaped his mouth despite not really feeling relieved. “Why don’t you eat with me? I bought something on our way home. Take it as a thanks for babysitting even when it’s not your schedule.” You joked, getting the plates. As much as Satoru wants to sleep his heartache off, how could he reject the smile on your face?

He can’t even remember the last time you ate together. Just the two of you. Looking at you now, he can’t help but wonder if this will be the last time too. If you fall for that guy, this could be the last time he’ll see this; the glow on your face as you share your thoughts with him. In the midst of it, Satoru can’t help but feel sentimental.

“None of this would’ve happened if I hadn’t done all that shit. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to atone, but I’ll sell my soul just to take a quarter of the pain off your mind.” You paused, processing his words. You remember all the times you felt irked while experiencing something fun, knowing it could’ve been the three of you if it wasn’t for what happened.

But you’re teaching yourself to create space for something good by letting go of the bad.

“Why did you do those things? Did you…did you want to get rid of me so bad back then?” You chuckled bitterly, suddenly feeling vulnerable, but he quickly answered. “No, Y/N. I never wanted to get rid of you. I was just…” Inhaling deeply, he looked you in the eyes. “I was desperate to run away from the problems I created in our relationship.”

“I thought distancing myself from you might help me move forward, but…” He licked his lower lip, shaking his head. 

But you can’t really create distance when it comes to someone you love, no matter how far apart you physically are. 

“Seeing Toji was the last straw. I knew I had to do something then, and I felt even dumber for letting it get to that point before listening to myself.” You looked down at the mention of your dear friend.

“I know how much you hate it, but…Y/N, I’m sorry. So many things went downhill in your life, and I took part in all of it. I can never do enough to fix it.” His voice weakened with every word. “You gave me the best thing, too.” You spoke, and his eyes lit up a bit, but not enough to mask his sorrow. 

You nodded toward your child’s room. “Satoru, it’s hard to just forget. I’ve said this countless times. But for that tiny human,” A small smile played on your lips, “For that little girl, we have to put things behind us. I don’t want her to grow up surrounded by the negative things of the past.” You leaned back in your chair, understanding that at times like this, you have to be positive. 

Satoru had been through things, too, and you wouldn’t invalidate that.

“Did you learn from your mistakes?” You asked him, standing up to grab a bottle of water. “I did, Y/N. I promise. I know it’s not much, but I try, and I will continue trying for you, for Yui.” You only realize now that you hadn’t really talked about it so thoroughly. Why? Probably because it scared you. But you can't live in fear forever.

However, the conversation brought you back to when you first saw him and Naomi. You tried hard to stop your emotions from taking over. Your face slowly drops at the memory. You remembered how you trusted his words, and how he went back on them.

“Why did you decide you didn’t want to try with me anymore that time?” Your throat started to constrict. Your chest suddenly felt too cramped up for your beating heart. Perhaps if you chose to spill out your unanswered questions earlier, it wouldn’t feel so hard right now. 

“I was a coward. I was too afraid to face our problems with you, so I thought it was better to cling to the freedom I felt with Naomi.” Stretching his legs out, he glanced at you. You can’t help but think that if only you had been open and talked it out before, instead of pushing each other away, things would’ve been better.

But of course, there’s always the threat of his beloved mother.

“Then, my mom introduced Naomi to me. She was there, she took care of Yui with me. She didn’t pull away from me, even when all I talked about were my problems. She didn’t make me feel alone.” He paused. The silence was deafening. You hated that all that you could hear was your heartbeat.

“That time…it was what I needed. But that’s definitely not what I wanted.” He looked up at the kitchen light, recollecting the feelings and thoughts he used to have. “I wanted myself to believe that. I made myself believe that I’m better off without you. For a little while, I did. She gave me a sense of tranquility, something we never had in a while then.” The peace. 

You didn’t think it would still hurt to hear him talk about her like she’s his savior but you found yourself looking down, sighing. “The quiet was nice, right?” You felt bitter suddenly. “Is that why it took a whole new guy coming into our lives for you to stand up and get your family?” You looked at him, feeling bad that you were having these thoughts for something gone. 

You don’t like to dwell on things so much but, maybe after all this time you still hate to think that some other girl was at your place. 

“It’s not quiet when I got you on my mind.” He murmured, your breath hitched. “Weeks after we fought in this kitchen, I couldn’t dream of anything else but your face, your voice.” He closed his eyes, eyebrows furrowed like he was in pain. “I could’ve sworn that if I heard your voice calling out my name, I would’ve given it all up.” You gulped your water, recalling how crushed you felt that time.

“Y/N…why did you pull away from me? I was scared shitless every time you’d say you’d find someone better because I know damn well there’s a lot.” He laughed unenthusiastically. The breath you took was harsh on your throat. It felt like it was slicing your neck from the inside. 

“I didn’t know how else to protect myself, Satoru.” You sniffed, reminding yourself that this one conversation could change so much between you and Satoru. “I didn’t know how else to protect myself from the pain, from your mom.” Something flashed in Satoru’s eyes at the mention of his mother. He’s hurt but you know that he longs to talk to her. It was still his mother, after all.

“I failed to stand up for you because I was too focused on pleasing my mom. I’m sorry that I couldn’t protect us from her.” Satoru knew that if he only believed in you a little more, the damage in your relationship wouldn’t have gotten so big. “I didn’t realize that she was already dictating my life to the point where she got me to leave my family without even knowing it.” 

Slowly taking your hand in his, he rubbed your skin with his thumb. By how shallow his breathing was, you can tell that this conversation was slowly breaking Satoru into tinier pieces. Holding your hand was probably the only thing that could keep him from falling apart right now, so you let him. 

Feeling his touch, you wondered if this was how gentle he was to Naomi.  You can’t help but think…what if he’s way gentler with her? Before you knew it, you were already speaking out your most kept thoughts; the softest, most tortured part of your heart was exposed.

“For many nights, I stayed up crying, wondering how you could so easily protect Naomi at the expense of my feelings.” You watched as his finger stopped moving on the back of your hand. “I remember wanting to know what she had that made you the man I always wanted you to be.” Tears started to pool in your eyes again, but you refused to look at him. 

Knowing about what happened to them, you were convinced that Naomi was also a victim of Satoru’s mother. She was a victim of her love towards Satoru, and that love was taken advantage of by Satoru’s mother. But other than that, you can’t help but think about how she used to be such a wonder to Satoru that he fell for her so easily. 

You watched Satoru wordlessly move out of his chair to kneel before you, kissing your hands. His whispered apologies spoke volumes. “You’re never any less, Y/N. Please, don’t think like that.” But you made her feel like that. He wished he could find the right words to say. But he thinks that no amount of apology could erase the scars he painted on your heart.

“I wanted to be better. But I'll forever regret everything I did just to satisfy her even when I knew it was hurting you.” His breaths were shaky, rough. “I wanted to be the man you wanted me to be. And just because I did it for her doesn’t mean I didn’t want to do it for you. Y/N, more than anyone, I wanted to be better for you first.” He knows that there will never be enough words to comfort your ache. But Satoru’s willing to prove it to you.

“I thought improving myself for her would make me feel better about our broken relationship. I was selfish, Y/N. I’m sorry.” You quickly wiped your tears away, sighing at how the heavy feeling in your chest seemed to slowly vanish after being uncaged. “Did it? You were going to marry her.” You weren’t mocking him at all. But it kills you to think that he loved her enough to want to marry her.

“At one point, I did. I used to think taking things further with her would pull me farther away from you. But it didn’t because if it did, I wouldn’t break so easily at the sight of you being with someone else.” Silence follows, and you can only smile and nod. Words alone still feel hard to believe. That’s why you've opted for a co-parenting setup with him—for now, you're letting his actions speak for themselves.

The night stretched on as your questions found answers, regrets were voiced, and what-ifs were shared. The conversation was bittersweet, a plea to undo mistakes and lessen the depth of wounds. The answers served as stitches and bandages to the injuries made.

That night, both of you hoped for a brighter tomorrow and lighter hearts in the days ahead.

_________________________________

Three years ago, you wouldn’t have seen yourself in an unfamiliar town, living in a small apartment with your mother and working as a waitress in a small restaurant. It was a tough adjustment for the kid but you’re getting there. She still asks for her father now and then, but you can’t give anything but a simple “Not now. He’s working” 

Will they ever meet again? Will you ever see him again? It doesn’t matter if he won’t come for you. You will live. For yourself. For Yui. You walked home with your head down, clutching your bag as you entered a small convenience store to grab some bread. You stared at a pack of candy on one of the shelves, allowing the buried memories to play in your mind.

—FLASHBACK—

“So, you’re good with her father now?” Your friend asked you as you pushed Yui’s bike. The theme park was packed with people and Yui couldn’t be more distracted and excited. “Yeah, I guess. We talked about a lot of things. We needed that.” You sighed, pursing your lips. 

“I'm still hesitant about trying again with him. With what happened between us, it’s still hard for me to just decide that.” Albeit unaware of your entire past with Satoru, your friend tried to be understanding, and you truly appreciated that. 

Seeing a row of empty chairs, you decided to sit down, and just as you were about to speak to your friend again, Yui got up and cheered for the coming cart, “Mama! Clouds, pwease!” You stood up as she pointed to it, dropping the toy Satoru got her. The toy quickly rolled down the pathway to the direction of the cart which had to stop by a group of kids and parents.

“Oh, shoot!” Your friend didn’t even have time to get it for you. You beat him to it, running after the toy which luckily bumped into a potted plant near the cart. You picked it up, panting as you looked back at them. Your friend was standing up, ready to go to you but you waved the toy at him, pointing at the cart to imply that you could get it yourself.

It was getting a bit crowded from the buyers so you signaled him to stay there with Yui, not wanting to involve her in any possible accidents. Thankfully, the vendor was skilled, and soon enough, you were returning to your daughter with a pink ball of cotton candy. “You moved so fast. I could’ve gotten it for you.” Your friend laughed, shaking his head in amusement.

“I guess it’s because I got used to it. When Satoru can’t be around to help, it’s all on me so…” You shrugged, only realizing that when it comes to Yui, you’d rather let yourself do all the work instead of relying on others. But that changes little by little now that Satoru’s around more. The day flew by, turning out to be more about Yui's outing than a friendly date.

You quickly checked your phone after your friend dropped you off. ‘Can I come over when you’re home?’ It was Satoru. Your brows furrowed at how serious he seemed. His texts usually carry a hint of sweetness, but this time, it was just a plain old text. ‘We’re home.’ You quickly replied and not even 15 minutes later, he was already at your house.

“Where’s Yui?” You looked at him standing at the door, waiting until you signed for him to come in. He was always like that, and while you appreciated it, you found the awkwardness somewhat amusing. "She fell asleep. Have you had snacks—" You were about to ask him, but he cut in abruptly, his tone serious.

“Y/N, can I ask you about something?” You felt nervous all of a sudden. He looked at you before reluctantly sitting down on the couch. You joined him when he pulled out his phone, scrolling for something. “Please, don’t take this the wrong way. I just want to know what happened here,” 

Your eyes widened, staring at the photo of Yui with your friend at the park earlier. It only captured half of the cart, blurred in the background. “Where were you? Look, my daughter’s alone with a… basically, a stranger to her—” You interrupted, heart racing in your chest, “Why do you have that? Did you get someone to follow us?” He sighed, remaining composed.

“No. Now, please just answer me first.” You learned the hard way about fights and now you just want to stay calm because this is certainly a misunderstanding. “I went after her toy that rolled down, and I bought cotton candy for her.” You reached out to zoom in on the pic, cursing out the way it was taken. What matters is that the cotton candy cart can be recognized.

“I know it’s blurry but I’m here, I even have a photo of Yui with a cotton candy if you want to—” Satoru shook his head, sighing exasperatedly. “Y/N, you left our daughter with a man. You barely know this guy, he’s a newbie in your work and now you…” Rubbing a hand over his face, Satoru looked at you with disappointment but still soft nonetheless. 

“You could’ve let him get that toy for Yui if he was such a man, made him buy in that crowded place for you.” You stayed silent, understanding where he’s coming from but the fact that he has this photo is setting you off. 

“He was about to. But I beat him to it because it’s always been like that for me.” You tried to explain before continuing, “Who sent you that, Satoru?” Satoru stared at you, contemplating. 

“My mom came to my house.” Now you know why he was in such a state. You bit your lip, wanting to cry out of frustration. Her restraining order lasted six months. You know there’s no way you could tear Satoru’s mother away from his life but you just want him to stop being tied to her apron strings.

He told you about how his mother came to him a few hours ago. He initially told her he was not yet ready to talk to her again, but was intrigued when she said she ran into Yui and a man at the park. 

“Were you following them?” He didn’t try hiding his accusatory gaze. “No, son! Believe me, I was just afraid that Y/N would panic if she saw me. But I saw her leave Yui with this man.” She looked so different from before. Satoru almost wanted to cry to her despite the pain she caused him, ask her why she did that. But he has to be tough. 

“You may go, Mom. I will talk to Y/N about it.” He attempted to close the gate but she kept getting closer to him, “When will I see my granddaughter? I miss her so much. And you, my Son…” Her teary eyes were still too much for Satoru, he looked away shaking his head. “I don’t know. Not now.” With that, he closed the door. 

“I don’t want you to think that I’m just simply buying her words, that’s why I came here to talk to you,” Satoru reassured you, “I know you didn’t mean to leave Yui like that but please, just…” Before he could even finish, you already answered, kind of relieved that this didn’t end with the slamming of doors again. “I know, I just got used to doing stuff for her myself. I’m sorry.” With that, the misunderstanding was cleared.

You didn’t think this would be followed by a string of events that would once again mess up your slowly glowing life. “Why are you here?” Your phone was in your hand as you blocked the door, your fingers found the emergency dial and immediately called Satoru. “I just want to see my Yui. I know I messed up Y/N, I just want to see my only grandkid.” You just can’t bring yourself to let her in.

“Satoru…can you come over? Right now. Your mother’s here.” You can hear his heavy sigh from the other end, “Don’t let her in. Wait for me.” And just as Satoru arrived his mother cried on his chest. “Son, I know I did wrong things but how can you treat me like I would harm your child?” Satoru’s hold on her arm was gentle but firm. 

Holding her to his chest as she breaks down, she looks at you with eyes that bear his agony. You can’t blame him for that’s his mother. But you’re desire to protect your child was greater. “I will only allow it for a few minutes, Satoru.” You wiped Yui’s face, peeking at the door to see his mother sitting on a monoblock chair with her head down.

“I know. I understand and I’m sorry. Sit with us if that would make you feel more at ease about this. I’m here, Y/N.” Hearing this from Satoru calmed you a bit, but it didn’t take away your worries. You just prayed that this would end soon. 

The last straw was the humiliation she caused you in front of your friends and strangers at a cafe. You were caught off guard and were almost torn down again but you stood your ground. 

“You dare leave your daughter at home just to mingle around? Y/N, what kind of a mother are you?” Your friends attempted to break it off, trying everything they could just to get his mother off your back. You should’ve just called the police that day. 

“What do you know about being a mother when you set up your own son for assault?!” You answered back, garnering whispers from strangers. “This is not about me! This is about you leaving your daughter just to fuck around!” It was only a matter of time before the guards dragged the two of you out of the cafe. 

“Out of all the days, she really chose the time when Satoru’s overseas for work!” You cried, fixing your hair on the way home. “You gotta protect yourself and Yui from that woman, Y/N.” Your friends looked at you with concern. That woman brings nothing but misfortune to you and your life. 

The moment you got home,  you called Satoru immediately. “I’m filing a case whether you like it or not, Satoru. I’m tired of this.” You cried, “I know, Y/N. I’m so sorry but please just wait for me to get back. I’ll help you when I’m back, I promise.” You couldn’t go out for a few days after that, it also took everything to stop your mother from committing a crime. 

And now, just a week after that, you almost lost your reason for living. 

You had to get another set of utensils after Yui dropped hers. When you returned, you saw her walking out of the cafe’s door. Satoru’s mother held the door open, using a pack of candy to lure the child out.

You’ve never run so fast in your life. You fought with all your might but she beat you to it, carrying Yui and attempting to take her away. “If you weren’t in our lives, Satoru would’ve been fine!” She screamed at you, pulling at the crying kid. You were so terrified and angry that you started to shake. You chose to scream for help rather than answer back, afraid that you’d lose your baby.

When people started rushing towards you, she immediately took off. You didn’t bother to see if she was captured, you just ran, desperate to save your child. After calling your mom, you’ve made your decision. You attempted to call Satoru but he was unreachable. You tried to understand that he was working and he didn’t even know this was happening. 

And when he finds out, he’d probably only try to hold you back and you don’t think you can do that. You can’t be in a place where your daughter’s unsafe. You knew you had to leave. Your daughter’s cries tell you that you have to leave. The scratches in her arms tell you that you have to leave. And that’s what you did, albeit without a clear place in mind. 

You left with your mother and that’s all Satoru knows too. 

Going home from his trip, Satoru didn’t even go back to his house. He went straight to yours and as if his fears came to life, you weren’t there. He tried calling you but it doesn’t even ring. He looked everywhere, asked around, and even went to Toji’s to beg him but he didn’t know too. His nightmare came true and the beat of his heart felt like it was slowing down with each day that passed without news about you.

All he knows is that the last time you were here, Yui almost got kidnapped by her own grandmother. 

He knows how protective you are of Yui. No wonder you disappeared. Satoru partially blames himself for not coming home when you called him crying. You probably thought he would put you off again. You probably thought he’d choose his mother again and honestly, he can’t blame you after all that he’s done in the past.

Satoru was broken, and the love he used to have for his mother turned into disgust and hate. His father helped him with his mother’s case. She was sent to jail after witnesses including your friends testified. His sleepless nights were endless. His search for his family was ceaseless too.

-END OF FLASHBACK-

Almost a year has passed since that, and you promised yourself that you would only believe that you and Satoru are meant to be together if he found you. If he didn’t, then maybe it’s better to let it go. After everything, you just can’t help but feel like the heavens are intentionally trying to separate the two of you.

But here you are, proven wrong when you bumped into a white-haired guy with tired blue eyes as you exited the store.

“Y/N?”

Sundered Masterlist

𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐅𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 | 00

"You know what hurts the most? I've lost our children too...but you...you're still alive...and I've already lost you."

synopsis: the chairman of the gojo group of companies, gojo satoru, is in need of an heir and quick. however, with a wife who is struggling to conceive and his subsequently crumbling marriage, he is forced to explore other options which now comes in the form of his wife's secretary.

pairing: gojo satoru x f!reader

warnings: 18+ angst, smut, mentions of depression and miscarriage.

You and Satoru Gojo are cursed.

Your marriage began to fracture the day you learned you could never have children, each passing moment turning your marriage into a silent battleground of unspoken regrets and fading hopes. People would tell you that it’s probably just bad luck or wrong timing and that sooner or later, you and your other half would be blessed with your hearts’ desires. All you had to do was wait for the right moment, but no one told you that you’d be waiting forever.

“Your tie is crooked again.”

You step into the now empty groomsmen suite where your husband is peering at himself in the mirror. Just a few years ago, he played the role of the groom, anxiously waiting for the hour he’d be linked to you forever. Now, he’s a groomsman in someone else’s wedding and hopefully a happier marriage.

Satoru looks up at the mirror to see you standing there as if on ceremony, waiting for him to invite you in. Ironically, that pretty much sums up your entire marriage: your shared heartbreak has become a gaping chasm between the two of you. You and Satoru could only hope that his sister’s wedding wouldn’t end up like yours – as lonely and quiet as a solitary mountain lake.

“I got it. You should head down with the other bridesmaids.” Satoru unloops his tie, his heart stubbornly refusing yours.

A numbness coats your veins when he simply gives up, and unbuttons his white collar for a more laid-back look instead, of course he’d rather do that — do anything else — than accept help from you, than speak more than two sentences to you, than be anywhere near you. That’s just how things are now after running head first into a happily ever after that was never going to come. “Fine. I’ll see you downstairs then.”

“Sure,” Satoru says nonchalantly.

He half-expected you to linger by the door for another minute, but his heart caves in when he sees you’ve simply left. But what did he expect? The void that exists between the two of you had grown too vast, and the brighter days of your marriage had been swallowed by the abyss of unmet expectations, and endless heartbreak. And now, all that’s left of the chaos is two lovers who have now ventured into the realm of reluctant strangers driven apart by fate.

Satoru walks over to the now closed door, and somehow sensing that you were still on the other side, he presses a hand to the cold wooden material, as if to say, “I’m still here.”

He hears a soft sniffle, then the painful sound of your receding footsteps and Satoru is, for the first time in one thousand four hundred sixty one days of calling himself your husband, utterly alone.

“Time to go home,” Satoru says monotonously, his right hand buried in his pocket while his free one holds the now settled hospital bill. He looks at you blankly, almost as if he expected this. After all, when you showed him the positive pregnancy test fifteen weeks ago, unlike the preceding ones, Satoru didn’t bother to make it public.

“I-I’m so…” you trail off, your eyes brimming with tears. “...Sorry.”

“I know. You always are,” your husband curtly replies. He’s lost count of how many times you’ve been in this exact position: by your hospital bed with a medical abstract in his hand with the words “spontaneous miscarrriage” printed on it.

He was getting sick of it. It’s almost like a nightmare that never seems to end. This would have been your fifth child, and yet again, you and Satoru would never have the chance to hold them in your arms for even just a second until they’re brutally ripped away from you. He looks at you again and sighs when you don’t move a muscle, seemingly still in shock from the ordeal.

“If you’re not ready to go, I’ll just have our driver pick you up.”

“...Alright.”

“Okay.”

He turns to leave but then your broken voice cuts through the thick air of the hospital room. “Satoru…? You don’t blame me right?”

Satoru screws his eyes shut, that was the last question he wanted to answer. He couldn’t bring himself to tell you that he has never blamed you for miscarrying, that, in the four years since he married you and the four years he’s had to witness child after child slip through your fingers like it was never meant to be, he’s never felt a tinge of disappointment towards you.

He told you not to go to the dental mission today, since you were on strict bedrest with your placenta previa but you made all these bullshit reassurances that you weren't going to push yourself too hard. He wants to say that you should have been more careful, that you should have listened to him. Yet, even then, he also couldn’t bring himself to tell you, his poor wife, his hurting better half, all the resentment he’s been harboring, so, he does the only thing he can do.

He runs away, far away from you when you need him the most. You stifle a sob when he doesn’t even crane his head back to look at you like the act of doing so would make him sick. “Get some rest," he simply tells you, unaware that this would be the last real conversation you’d have for a while because the next two months would be weeks of gut-wrenching silence.

He was wrong, you think sullenly to yourself as he leaves you alone.

Every day has already become unbearable for you, every breath has become debilitating. What right did you have to breathe when all your children, each one departing with a piece of your and Satoru’s hearts, had been denied that very right?

Looking back at it now, Sayuri’s wedding was just like yours. What else would you have expected considering that you helped with the preparations from the color scheme to the venue’s decorations? Sayuri valued your input, and with you, despite being the junior party, having gotten married first, surely, you must have known what you were talking about when it comes to weddings. Too bad you couldn’t say the same thing about knowing a thing or two about marriage.

As you watch the happy couple from the top table, you utter a silent prayer in your heart that Satoru’s sister will never have to face the trials you have faced.

Satoru stands up from his seat, guiding you to the top table with a hand on the small of your back to bid your farewells and final well wishes. “Sayuri, it’s getting late. Y/N and I should be heading back now.” A look of disappointment crosses Sayuri’s face but it is quickly overshadowed by understanding.

You watch with a small smile as your husband embraces his older sister, whispering something in her ear that causes her to land a jab on Satoru’s abdomen. Stepping forward, you kiss Sayuri’s cheek in a show of sisterly love. “Congratulations again, nee-san.”

“Thanks for helping out again, Y/N,” Sayuri says sweetly, utterly grateful to all the assistance you extended for her special day. “I’m hoping you’ll help me for my next event, right?”

You return her smile with a slight tilt of your head; the two of you have been friends long before Satoru came into the picture, what with her being your ever supportive senior in university. The trust that you forged with Sayuri is often a running joke in the Gojo family. It’s often said that you got your husband’s sister’s approval long before you even knew each other. And it was true. The way she has stood as an older sister figure for you even during your darkest days fighting your loneliest battles is something you will forever cherish.

Satoru casts a look at new brother-in-law who is busy mingling with his own family; he makes a face at his sister’s remark. “You’re already planning for a second wedding when you’ve only been married for six hours?” your husband playfully jokes about his sister’s very questionable comment.

Come to think of it, that’s the first time you’ve seen Satoru smile in a long while, and when he did, it had to be because he joked about the tricky business of remarriage. It pains you to think that he has smiled so seldomly that you’ve almost forgotten how he looks when he’s not in a constant state of silent detachment, oceans deep in his chemtrail of thoughts. You were glad you weren’t a mind reader, dreading hearing his thoughts aloud: his silent hatred of you, the final goodbye having already materialized and rehearsed millions of times in his mind.

But couldn’t he see that you were still trying? You desperately want to hold his hand in a silent oath: “I’m still here.” but you think better of it, fearing that you might just lose him altogether.

Then again, a ghost of a mirthless smile appears on your lips for a brief second, if there’s anything you were good at, it was losing people.

You are pulled out of your thoughts by Sayuri’s sarcastic laugh. “Ha-ha. If I’m lucky, this’ll be my only wedding.” She sticks her tongue out at Satoru who merely rolls his eyes in response. “Anyway, as I was saying,” she turns to you with a hesitant smile, mulling over if this was a good idea given your circumstances.

Just then, her husband cordially approaches the three of you. “Hey,” he greets his wife with an affectionate kiss. “I got you this,” he places a champagne flute in Sayuri’s hand. “Alcohol-free, I swear.”

Satoru’s face falls momentarily. How long has it been since he kissed his wife like that? No, how long has it been since you put up those unscalable walls around the fortress that is your heart, blocking him out at every corner? He glances your way in an attempt to search your face – for anything to reassure him that your marriage was still salvageable, for anything to let him know you and him were still worth saving – he isn’t even surprised when you instantly turn your gaze away from him.

Guess he got his answer.

“Did you tell them?” your new brother-in-law asks with the same trepidation in his tone as his wife’s.

You make the cardinal mistake of asking. “Tell us what?” you ask, puzzled.

The next few words hit you like a tidal wave. Your prayers of Sayuri never having to experience the anguish you felt have been answered, in place of your own unanswered prayers for yourself and Satoru.

“That…we’re expecting.”

You don’t even notice that you’ve already muttered out a brief: “O-oh. I’m…happy for you.” As you numbly offer Sayuri her congratulations, you think back to all the times you and Satoru have had to hear: “I’m so sorry for your loss”. It wasn’t fair how happiness almost always helplessly slips through your and Satoru’s fingers in the form of a silent heartbeat at twelve weeks, or a fertilized egg that never truly grows into an embryo.

If there really was such a thing as “hell” or “damnation”, then yours came in the form of an empty nursery, an empty stroller, unused onesies, unsung lullabies and unflipped bedtime story books.

Satoru handles the news with an agonizing grace, his voice gruff and raw with held back emotions. He clears his throat, repeating the congratulations. “How far along are you?” he asks his sister, his demeanor shrouded with a profound yearning for the same thing, if not for him, then for you because if anything, of all people, you deserve that kind of joy too. Maybe even more so than him. He was fine with just having his wife back, after all. The succession of the entire conglomerate would always come second to you.

Even if you didn’t know it. Even if you no longer cared to believe him.

“Eighteen weeks,” Sayuri answers quietly. “I-I was gonna ask if Y/N would be interested in helping out with the baby shower but, I’d understand if this feels like a bad idea–”

“--It’s okay,” you defensively cut off Sayuri, refusing to hear another word of pity, another syllable along the lines of: “I’m sorry.”. You’ve had enough of that. “I-I’d be happy to…really.”

With your unconvincing words, your quartet falls into a tense silence. You and Satoru don’t dare to stay long enough for either of them to try saving the conversation, so, with a polite and final few well-wishes, you leave. Just as the two of you settle into the backseat of his car for the return journey to Tokyo, tiny droplets of rain begin to collect on the windows.

“...Why can’t we be like that?” you break the overwrought silence with a genuine question, a slight tremble in your voice.

“We were like that too,” he replies almost nostalgically, recalling the many precious hushed conversations each night in your marital bed, the mornings when you and him gaze at the other’s sleeping form, thinking to yourselves how lucky you two were to have each other, the warmth that came with being so in love.

It was an age long abandoned.

Now, you two were silent, your conversations not extending past two brief sentences, your bed is now empty and cold, and your luck had run out the same way your love died out.

“Once.”

You spoke of your union as if it were a house of cards that’s been torn apart by the wind, the two of you are now all but decimated, to the point where one can only wistfully pine after what had been lost that can no longer be restored. And after the many arguments that had erupted between you and him, unbearably, this was the one thing you could never argue about.

Satoru nods, echoing your words with a heavy heart. “Yeah…once.”

The fact is: no one knows what happened or rather, no one — not even your OBGYN — could have expected this. It was a normal day, you and Satoru, as excited parents-to-be, had booked the appointment and all the succeeding ones leading to your supposed due date ahead of time, so, you arrived at your usual schedule of 3:30 PM, and after a quick check of your vitals, the OB moves to conduct the standard ultrasound.

As you move to lie down on the bed, it seems you’ve only just noticed the bag Satoru was carrying. You look at it curiously. “What’s that?” you ask, pointing to the moss green canvas bag on his lap.

“Your hospital bag,” Satoru says enthusiastically, already opening it. “See? I packed three pairs of socks for you, a sweater, your lip balm, hairbrush, lotion and — why are you laughing?” he asks when you snort with laughter. The OB is also shaking her head in amusement. Clearly, your oblivious husband kinda missed the memo.

“Babe,” you explain amidst your giggles. “I’m not having the baby today.”

“What do you mea—oh,” He awkwardly looks at the hospital bag. Satoru Gojo, the owner of the ever powerful Gojo conglomerate, the darling of Kabutocho and the Nikkei Index, a holder of a dual degree in finance and business analytics, further supplemented with an MBA from Wharton, looks flustered. He had forgotten that he’s only supposed to bring that during the delivery.

The OB chuckles as she lifts your shirt up to squeeze some of the ultrasound gel on the taut skin of your still mostly flat but slightly swollen belly. “Seems dad was a bit too excited,” she remarks. You shift at the cold gel, but relax after a while.

“Well, it’s our first, after all,” you glance at Satoru with a warm smile. He brings your hand to his lips and he sits down on the chair, his eyes altering between you and the monitor. You squeeze his hand as the probe glides over your midriff. The image shifts slightly on the screen and the OB zooms in on the small image of your baby.

She makes a note of the growth. “6.0 centimeters at 12 weeks,” the OB says, pleasantly surprised. “Now, would the two of you like to hear the baby’s heartbeat?”

You and Satoru share a brief look of happiness and nod simultaneously.

Instantly, images of what life would look like from now on flash in your minds: Satoru would constantly be chasing after the little tornado that would be your child, while you’d be too busy cleaning up after the mischievous duo. If it’s a girl — which is Satoru’s preference but he’ll never actually say that out loud — Satoru would be almost always willing to indulge them. Their little girl needs your lipstick to give her daddy a makeover? Say no more, he’s already rummaging through your makeup bag. Oh, she wants a tiara? He’s already on the phone with his ex-fling who also happens to be Swarovski’s top designer to commission a tiara piece for his little princess.

And honestly, the same can be said for you if the baby does turn out to be a boy. It would be a joy to have a little Satoru of your own. You’d shower them with kisses every morning, and every night before he went to sleep, never shying away from letting him know how much you love him.

Or at least that was the plan.

Call it a mother’s intuition but something doesn’t feel right. Worry pricks at your entire being when all you can hear is the drone-like hum of the examination room’s AC unit, the frequency adjustment of the ultrasound machine and the sound of your own hearts breaking at the sound of silence.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Gojo—”

“—What’s happening?” you ask frantically, your head abruptly lifting from the pillow in alarm to look at the screen. “What’s happening, ‘Toru? Why can’t I hear anything?” you look to Satoru for answers — no, perhaps you knew the answer all along — you simply looked at him, pleading with him to tell you that this wasn’t real, that you’ve probably just gone momentarily deaf or something, and that by some miracle, your baby was still there.

But as Satoru simply purses his lips, gently easing you back onto the bed, his eyes brimming with tears that were now falling in the crook of your neck, silently sobbing into your shoulder with you. You could faintly hear the OB amidst your sobs already paging the hospital pharmacy for a prescription of Mifepristone and Misoprostol to assist with emptying your womb. Not that it wasn’t already empty to begin with now that your baby is gone, and all they’ve left in their wake is a void in their parent’s hearts and a sense of confusion.

Why? Why did they just up and leave like that before you even got to hold them, to see their tiny face as they sleep in their hospital bassinet next to your bed? Did your baby somehow sense that you and Satoru would be horrible parents? Were you unworthy of their love, so unworthy that you’d never get to meet them?

“Shh, shh,” Satoru tries to soothe you in spite of his own turmoil, the thought of losing the baby too heavy on his mind to do anything other than attempt to comfort you. “I’m here…I’m right here.”

He was right. You both were still here but gazing back at the black and white image of your now sleeping angel, you’ll just have to learn to accept that they aren’t.

Satoru has been acting strange all day.

For one, he sent you a good morning text message wishing you luck with your patients today just as you were about to change into your scrubs when you arrived at your dental clinic in Tokyo Midtown, and just after receiving that message, your secretary, Kozue, happily enters your office with your takeaway coffee in one hand and a small gift box in the other.

“You know, Mr. Gojo would be a horrible secret admirer,” she remarks simply, placing the box above the patient records you were reviewing.

“Why is that?” you ask, finishing up on your 9:00 patient’s appointment sheet.

Kozue gestures to the Bvlgari logo on the small box. “He clearly has a thing for high-end jewelry brands, it’s either he sends you Bvlgari or Swarovski.” You breathe a small laugh at her keen observation.

“Looks like your observation skills are improving, pretty soon, I might just assign a patient to you,” you joke. “Anyway, it’s our fifth anniversary today, hence the gift-giving. I left him a new pair of Giorgo Armani loafers on the closet display this morning.”

“You two are so extra,” Kozue chortles. “My boyfriend and I don’t get to do all this.”

You nod sympathetically. “When’s he coming back again?” you ask as you carefully open the box to reveal a pair of Serpenti Seduttori diamond earrings with a blue sapphire on the head. Kozue watches you try them on with a soft smile on her face, it’s not often anyone gets to see you put your hair down.

“Around next year,” Kozue gushes. “But honestly, well, uh…don’t freak out, but—”

“—You plan to join him in Chicago once he gets his MBA,” you answer for her.

You’ve seen her often searching for apartments in the South Loop, indicating her future plans to leave the clinic and the country altogether for greener pastures overseas. You know that the long distance relationship has been hard for her, often using her breaks to speak with her boyfriend on the phone just as he’s about to turn in for the night.

It’s almost funny to think about: that Kozue and her lover, despite being forced into a long distance relationship due to their differing circumstances, were just about as close as literal soulmates get, while you and Satoru live together and yet you’re worlds away from each other.

But whatever, some people just get dealt a better hand.

“It’s alright. I really don’t mind if this would be our last year working together if it means you get to pursue your happiness elsewhere. The clinic is nothing compared to the world, after all.”

Kozue nods in thanks. This is just another one of the many things she admires you for. She knows that she isn’t as tenured as the rest of the dentists in the clinic, and honestly, she didn’t have a doctorate in dentistry either, but you still trusted her enough to be your secretary, and you never made her feel that she was in any way inferior to you or anyone else — it’s all just part of your caring nature even if you do have

“Now, you’re just making me wanna stay even more, boss,” Kozue pretends to wipe a tear from her eye, making you laugh.

Her loyalty is always something you’re grateful for and quite frankly, you couldn’t imagine the clinic functioning as well as it is without her. Sure, sometimes she’s annoyingly optimistic sometimes and just unbearably too happy in the mornings, but you had to hand it to her, in an office full of sleep-deprived dentists like yourselves, Kozue’s infectious enthusiasm is probably just as essential as good quality coffee beans. She always knows when to cheer everyone up, especially you.

“Well, that’s great, since you always know how to get me out of a tight spot,” you half-joke.

“Always!” she holds up her thumb in affirmation. The intercom suddenly pages her and she checks her watch. “Looks like our first patients are coming in, I’ll see you later. And happy anniversary to the two of you!”

The rest of the afternoon rolls by uneventfully and before you know it, Satoru is already picking you up from work like he always does except this time, he’s carrying a bouquet of pink camellias.

He removes his sunglasses just as he steps into the building and you stand there for a bit, a little starstruck.

It’s no secret that your husband is good-looking, but it feels like an eternity since you’ve actually properly regarded him. It’s like seeing him for the first time all over again: your heart thumps in your chest and a blush creeps onto your cheeks. How long has it been since you’ve felt this way? Since the two of you spent time with each other? Since you both made a courageous effort to mend the gap between you and him?

Satoru also stands there, relief washing over him when he notices you wearing the earrings he got you. “Hey,” he greets, striding over to you. The bouquet is placed into your waiting hands and you feel you’ve been swept off your feet when he leans down to press a soft yet somehow yearnful kiss on your forehead.

“Hi…” You shyly greet your husband like he’s some guy you met on a blind date. You then realize he’s wearing the Armani shoes you got him. “Do they fit well?”

What kind of a question is that? Satoru is a size twelve and a half, you should know your husband the same way he should know how his wife prefers pearls over sapphire.

Satoru forces a wry smile. The shoes do feel a little pinchy but you didn’t need to get the impression that he doesn’t appreciate your gift. “Yeah, they’re great.” He glances at the earrings with a soft smile. “You look beautiful.”

“Tell that to the patient who thought I was a mushroom when I gave them nitrous oxide earlier,” you chuckled. Satoru snorted in laughter at that. “Happy anniversary, ‘Toru,” you whispered.

“Happy anniversary, Y/N,” he pulls you into a tight hug, and your heart swells with an uneasy but welcome joy.

Your arms instinctively wrap around your husband’s form which Satoru responds to with an indiscernible sniffle. The walk to the car is quiet but not tense and maybe not peaceful either, years of emotional distancing are not easily forgotten after all. But — you look at your and Satoru’s interlocked hands, noting how for once, it felt like they fit a little more perfectly together right now more than ever — maybe it’s a start.

There’s a saying that goes: “There is no calamity greater than lavish desires. There is no greater guilt than discontentment. And there is no greater disaster than greed.” In a game of poker, it’s said the winner is the first to rise once he gets his betting sum back, and in chess, oftentimes it is the aggressive players that slaughter pawn after pawn who do not realize their own territory has already been infiltrated by their opponent.

With that being said, you shouldn’t have pushed it. You should have been content with the small yet meaningful progress you and Gojo made. After a night out at Tokyo’s Stellar Sky Garden Lounge, the two of you practically stumble back into the penthouse in an intense haze of lust, desire and a banal and reckless greed. In Satoru’s defense, with the way that you were responding to his touch, tilting your head back to expose the delicate flesh of your neck as he nips on the skin like a man possessed, he thought that, at the very least, you were ready to be intimate with him after what felt like an eternity of you choosing to sleep in the guest room rather than your marital bed.

“H-Hah–S-Satoru, mnhh…”

Satoru expertly wraps his lips around your nipple, suckling at it, his nose tickling your mound. His other hand catches your other tit, squeezing at the tender nub eliciting a languid moan from your lips. “Shhh,” he releases your nipple momentarily, his tongue flicking against the bud. “Let me take care of you, babe…”

His hand trails down to your core, collecting your slick, rubbing up and down your slit, plunging a finger inside. He bites his lip at your warmth, he could already feel your familiar and tight walls. And he wasn’t even inside you yet. The thought of being inside you again sends a shiver of excitement down his spine, and he pushes you onto the soft mattress.

It’s been two years since your last miscarriage, two whole years that you’ve denied him of sexual intimacy. And Satoru doesn’t blame you. Having to endure loss after loss, it was expected that you’d withdraw into yourself, closing everyone off as you healed. But can’t you see he was hurting too? That he has wept too? That he also has his own fair share of damp tear-stained pillows? That he has, on many occasions, locked himself in his C-suite office after having had to endure another sleepless night of your relentless sobs in the other room?

He looks into your hooded eyes, and he sees the future you two have lost: you carrying his baby in your arms, cooing to them as you bounce them gently in your arms – now, Satoru isn’t religious, but that image is his heaven. Burying his length into your cunt, he chokes, letting out a pleasured groan that mixes with your own breathless whine. Soon, the bedroom is filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin as he pounds into you at a desperate pace.

On your end, with every roll of his hips, tears prick your eyes.

This feels wrong.

No, this feels excruciating and terribly hollow. He’s never touched you like this. Sex with Satoru was always passionate, and loving. His hands would always intertwine with yours as he catches your lips in a searing kiss. He’s never like this. His captivating sapphire eyes held a loneliness to them.

As he’s bullying your cunt, you could feel yourself sinking into oblivion.

“Aah–” Satoru groans softly, his forehead pressed against your shoulder as looking at you was so painful for him right now. He doesn’t want to hate you, but he seems unable to love you all the same. What should he do? What can he do?

Suddenly, as he’s approaching his high, his hips melding into yours a little more forcefully and erratically, a dam of tears bursts wide open and you push back against him.

“Mm…’m getting close–ngh—gonna make you a mommy again, all round with my baby, you like that huh?” Satoru lifts your legs to his shoulders, thrusting into your weeping pussy, oblivious to the turmoil in your head. Two seconds ago, you wanted this. Now, you feel like you were gonna be sick at his ramblings of getting you pregnant again.

Fuck. You can’t do that anymore: getting pregnant and being led to believe that by some miracle, you’ll carry to term. Please just make it end.

“Satoru, d-don’t–ngh–p-please stop–”

“Shhh, ah…Y/N…gonna cum…gonna give you my baby—agh–”

He doesn’t seem to hear you. No, he pretends not to hear you outrightly rejecting him.

On your end, you felt like you were dying, with the overwhelming self-loathing in your heart, you couldn't even see Satoru’s desperate effort to restore the normal intimacy you two shared during the early parts of your marriage. But you didn’t care. Satoru didn’t deserve to make love to someone who’s already gone, to stick around for someone who can’t give him the happiness he deserves.

“Satoru, PLEASE STOP!”

“Fuck!” Satoru pulls out mid-thrust. Your heart clenches when he looks like he’s been slapped right across the face. He hastily finishes himself off and upon his release, he groans in frustration. He should have known you’d be this way. And fuck, he was angry at you. He was angry at himself for stupidly hoping that things were gonna get better. “You’re impossible!” he fumed, already pulling on his clothes, ready to abandon you.

“Satoru, wait! Where are you going?!” you pull the blanket to your chest, draping yourself as you follow him to the door.

“Anywhere! Anywhere but here!”

“You’ve never been here!” You accuse him without thinking and instant regret overruns you when Satoru lets out a scoff of disbelief. “Satoru, wait, I’m sorry!”

“Never?” Satoru’s jaw tenses. “What do you mean I wasn’t here?” He’s on the edge of losing it completely now. You had some nerve accusing him of that when he had to pick up the pieces — your pieces, the pieces of this shattered marriage. “Say it again, Y/N. Tell me exactly how I was never here.”

It was wrong of you to say that.

Painful memories begin flashing into your mind like a tragic montage: the uneaten and cold tray of food Satoru would leave outside the guest bedroom for you on the hardest and loneliest days of your life, the many instances he’s had to coax you to get out of bed by taking you to the places the two of you used to love, the countless nights he’s had to hold you, staying awake to hush you when you wake up sobbing from another nightmare.

“Satoru, no, I–I didn’t mean…that…”

He turns around to look you in the eyes, rage seeping through his usually calm ocean orbs. “You didn’t mean that? You sure sounded like you did!” He takes a step towards you, and you inch backwards, drawing your gaze to your feet in shame. “It’s fucking amazing how you don’t ‘mean to’ do anything! You didn’t mean to stand me up during our anniversary date last year too, the same way you didn’t mean to start sleeping in the guest bedroom every night–”

You flinch at the accusation dripping from his voice as he unloads all his heartache on you. “Stop…please stop–”

“And let me guess you didn’t mean to lose our children too!”

Your hand connects with his cheek and Satoru is stunned. Not at your slap. But at the vile words that just left his throat. He stares at you in shock, guilt written all over his face.

“Don’t you dare bring our children into this. You think this has been easy on me? Feeling a little life grow everyday in your womb only for them to just…be gone…one day when you wake up? You don’t know how difficult it is to lose a child!”

“And you don’t know how difficult it is to lose your wife!” Satoru retorts, his voice thick with exhaustion.

His eyes bear the scars of your shared heartbreak. He knows you’ve been struggling. Truly he does. And he wants nothing more than to take all your pain away from you, to spare you from the hell that you’ve been unfairly sentenced to. But why can’t you realize that you aren’t the only wounded party here?

“And you know what hurts the most?” His eyes gleamed with unshed tears, his voice cracking mid-sentence.

His gaze falls to the locket that held a small sonogram picture of your would have been fourth child which you wore everyday.

“I lost our children too. I grieved for them too. But you…you’re still alive but I’m already grieving for you like I've already lost you.”

Satoru doesn’t return to the bedroom again that night and the next morning, you both awake to a wedding portrait that now. sheltered a heartbroken wife’s teardrop stains, and a box full of baby items for disposal packed by a husband who has now, by all intents and purposes, given up.

Satoru slips out to the five star hotel's rooftop for some much needed air. Hopefully none of these pesky journalists saw him on his way here. But that probably just comes with the whole experience of celebrating the conglomerate's tenth anniversary. He finds you in the garden, seated on a bench next to a potted plant. Satoru approaches you quietly, sitting down next to you. "I thought I'd find you up here."

"Hmm? Yeah, it was starting to feel suffocating in there," you chuckled. "I think it was nice of you to choose the Tokyo Children's Hospital as this year's beneficiary," you nudge him lovingly. You were already excited for the upcoming courtesy visit and celebratory turnover of the 20 million yen donation from the Gojo clan's multinational conglomerate.

Satoru plants a loving kiss on your temple, pulling you close to his form, his head resting atop yours. It's been a year since you've gotten married and already, people were already getting antsy for a baby, but maybe none as anxious as your families who are more than excited to have a new little one running around their respective estates. "So, walk me through the event next week. What have you got planned?" he asks you candidly about your plans for the turnover.

"Well, I already contacted a catering company for the children's party, oh and of course, there'll be games and storytelling sessions," you share eagerly. "I even hired a magician and facepainter!"

Satoru hums at your plans. "Of course, it can't be a children's party without some facepainting action."

"You know facepainting isn't limited to children," you flash him an impish grin. Understanding the implication of your words, Satoru immediately shakes his head in adamant refusal. "Oh come on, as the Gojo Group of Companies's chairman, you have to lead by example, right?"

"They aren't my employees!" Satoru laughs. Before you could even pull your signature pout, he pecks your cheek. "But if that's what my wife wants, then, I'll have them paint my pretty white hair too."

You laugh along with him, sighing contentedly at this peaceful moment. "Hey, Satoru? Why don't we...make them a part of the permanent beneficiary list?" you suggest quietly. "I mean, we still have some room for them, right?"

Satoru contemplates the possibility of having the Tokyo Children's Hospital as a permanent beneficiary of the Gojo Group, yet, he agrees nonetheless. "You know what? I don't see why not, I'll be sure to talk to PR about it," he smiles softly. "We can even make it a tradition - having a fun get-together with the kids and their parents." Satoru's heart swells at the idea of one day bringing your own child along to these events, teaching them the importance of being altruistic and compassionate to others. You nod, seemingly sharing his thoughts. "Maybe someday, we can bring our own little one into the mix."

You nod against Satoru's warm embrace with a wistful smile dancing on your lips. "I'd like that. Logistically, it'd be faster for the two of us to distribute the goodie bags if we had an extra little pair of hands."

"It's a plan then," Satoru concurs joyfully.

——————

little fireflies everywhere taglist: @lvstyangel @harlamarie @forever-war @indecisive-capricorn @sammytheotakunerd @krokietino @bloopsstuff @polarbvnny @satxoru @aishies-stuff @catowru @chilichopsticks @bleppt @wizlizliz @ssetsuka @kouyoumarryme @ryumurin @gentlebeari @3lushkiii @reine-son @sleepyyammy @alwaysfreakingout @iwanttohitmyself @an-ever-angry-bi @itachiiwrites @monserrath0730 @r0ckst4rjk @reagan707 @chrimsychrism @peachipeachy @manyno @3keros3ne @kazehayaaa @leafynightmares @allofffmypeaches @straberry-cake @ladytamayolover @kirashuu @sad-darksoul @chauchirem @ghostlytravelerface @kittykatz777 @dazailover1900

TAGLIST CLOSED

Should've (Gojo x Reader)

Your heart stops.

CW: Injury, mentions of death, angst, probably not medically accurate, reader has female pronouns

Part Two | JJK Masterlist | Blog Navigation

It had been days. Three days exactly. Three days since you took that life threatening blow. Three days since you had opened your eyes.

Gojo sat beside your bed, watching you sleep.

"Sweetheart?"

No response.

"Please, if you can hear me, just move your hand. Just a little bit."

Still no response.

"Shoko says you can hear me, so stop pretending you can't."

You still didn't move.

"Come on. This isn't funny anymore. Let's just go home and cuddle. Please-"

His voice cracks and he swallows a sob.

"I love you so much. Please come back to me. I can't- I can't lose you too."

"You should get some rest."

Shoko leaned against the door, looking pointedly at Gojo.

"Sitting there isn't going to make her wake up faster. Plus, she would hate it if she could see how stupid you were acting. You've barely eaten, and I know you haven't slept this entire time. Go home and take a shower. Eat something. I promise I'll keep an eye on her until you get back."

"What if she wakes up and I'm not here?"

"Then I'll text you immediately and you can teleport over."

"Fine."

Begrudgingly he stood and planted a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"Don't worry sweetheart. I'll be right back."

Making his way to the door, he shot Shoko one last look before teleporting away.

"Please let me know if anything happens."

"Of course."

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Gojo was just finishing drying off his hair when his phone rang. Lunging for it, he picked it up eagerly.

"Shoko! Is she awake? Can I come see her? How-"

"Satoru."

It was Nanami, and the way he said his first name instantly made Gojo's stomach drop.

"Shoko told me to call you...I think you should come right away. Just...try to stay in control. Everything is going to be okay-"

Gojo had already teleported into your hospital room.

A loud beeping was the first thing he noticed.

The second was Shoko, kneeling on the bed next to you as she continuously pumped your exposed chest with her interlocked hands.

Was she performing...CPR? But that was only necessary if-

His world collapsed around him. Right there, on your heart monitor, was one long, flat, line.

He stood there numb, even as someone pushed past him and handed Shoko the defibrillator. He watched silently as Shoko placed the paddles on your chest.

Tears streamed down his face as Shoko checked for a pulse, then continued CPR as she waited for the defibrillator to recharge.

He didn't even fight as Nanami gently led him from the room, murmuring that he didn't need to see that. That everything was going to be okay. That you were a fighter.

Slumping against the wall, Gojo slid to a sitting position.

What if you didn't make it? How was he supposed to survive without you? Why is he the strongest, if he can't even protect you, the one thing he can't live without?

He should have told you he loved you more. He should have pampered you more, let you have the last piece of mochi instead of stuffing it in his face before you could get to it. He should have held you tighter, never let you out of his grasp. He should've been there, to protect you. He should've kept all his promises. He should've-

"Satoru?"

It was Shoko, frazzled and exhausted, but relieved.

"She's stable."

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Thanks for reading!! My request box is open if anyone has any!!

Hii could we have a part 2 of Should've of when the reader finally wakes up from her coma 👉🏽👈🏽

Yep! Hope you enjoy it!

Should've (Gojo x Reader) Part II

You wake up after your heart stops

CW: swearing, mentions of death, angst to fluff, kissing

Part One | JJK Masterlist | Blog Navigation

When you slowly open your eyes, you are thirsty. Moving to sit up, you find that you can't because something is on your chest. Looking down, you find a plethora of wires connecting you to various machines, but that wasn't what was stopping you from moving.

No. You couldn't move because your boyfriend of three years was sleeping with his head on your chest. When you move to brush his disheveled hair back from his face - did he let it air dry? It normally isn't this curly - he shot up.

"Sweetheart?"

"Hi. Are you - umph"

You were cut off by him burying his face in your hair as he pressed your face into his chest.

Starting to open your mouth, you pause as you notice he's trembling, his whole body shaking as he quietly sobs into your hair.

After sitting like this for a couple minutes, your worry builds up until you tentatively nudge him back a bit, so you can look at his face. He looks terrible, with puffy red eyes and eye bags so deep they look like makeup.

"Hey, hey, baby, what's going on, what happened? Last I remember I was on my mission-"

You stop as your memories begin to return.

"Wait, I was badly injured, right? Is that what's going on? You were worried?"

He nods, tears filling his eyes again as he looks down at you lying in the hospital bed.

"Well, you don't have to worry. I'm okay now. I didn't die-"

"You did."

"Huh?"

He spoke so quietly that you couldn't hear him.

"Could you say that again for me 'Toru?"

"You died."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean your heart stopped. Shoko had to resuscitate you. I thought-"

He breaks down sobbing, unable to control himself. Scooching over, you gently tug on his arm until he lays down on the bed next to you. Wrapping your arms around him, you run your hands up and down his back as he sobs into your chest.

"Shhh. Shhh. It's okay."

You soothed, trying to calm him down. You were scared; you had never seen him like this before. Normally he kept his emotions locked deep inside of him. He never broke down, and if he did, certainly not to this extent.

"It's-It's not."

He choked past his tears.

"You were gone. Your heart wasn't beating. You were dead. And I couldn't- I couldn't help. I wasn't there to protect you like I promised. I failed you. You could have slipped away from me, and I wouldn't have been able to stop it. All I could think about was how I should've told you I loved you more, been a better boyfriend."

He rambled on as you held him tighter, knowing he needed to get this out of his system.

"I should've kept my promises. Should've protected you. Should've been there to take that hit for you. Should've made you my wife like I promised myself after our first date. Should've held you tighter while I could-"

"Satoru."

You breathed out cutting him off.

"Even if I had died,"

A low pained whine escaped him, as if the very words physically hurt him.

Taking a deep breath you continued as he squirmed up in your grasp and buried his nose into the crook of your neck, inhaling you in.

"Even if I had, which I didn't, I would have died knowing that you love me with everything in you. For fucks sake babe, you only tell me about a million times a day."

You chuckled, and you felt him huff against your neck.

"Hey, look up at me real quick."

Planting a kiss on your skin, he tilted his head up so he could meet your eyes.

"I need you to listen to me. This is important."

He nods.

"Gojo Satoru. I did not die. I am right here with you. That's where I am going to be for as long as you want me to. Because you love me with everything in you, and I know that. And I love you with every part of my heart. Everything in me belongs to you. You got that?"

"Yes."

He breathes, looking up at you, an unidentifiable emotion glittering in his swollen eyes.

"As for everything else, I'm still alive, so you can do all of those things. You can hold me as tight as you want. You can protect me, you can make me your wife, you can do anything you want., with one exception."

Your gaze hardened.

"You are not allowed to take a hit for me. I wouldn't be able to live with myself. So how about we make a deal: I don't take hits for you, and you won't take hits for me. Deal?"

He opened his mouth to protest.

"I said, deal."

"Deal."

He grumbled, burying his head back into the crook of your neck.

After a few minutes, he slid up so you were eye to eye and cupped your cheek in one big hand.

"Did you mean what you said?"

"About what?"

"That I could make you my wife?"

You nod, smiling softly at him.

"I did."

"Then, would you make me the happiest person ever, and let me marry you once you're free to leave this bed?"

"Yes."

You breathed, giving him a kiss."

"One million times yes."

Note: That got a lot cheesier than I expected, sorry about that lmao. Also, my requests box is open for anyone who is interested!

For You (Gojo x Reader)

What if you were sealed instead of Gojo?

CW: Shibuya Incident spoilers, angst, not canonically accurate (just roll with it for the plot it doesn't have to make complete sense), swearing, so much angst

Part Two | JJK Masterlist | Blog Navigation

Gojo knew that you were strong. He wouldn't have fallen in love with you out of fear if he didn't trust completely in your ability to return to him.

But that was before.

Before the shell of someone the two of you once knew and loved appeared.

Before he allowed himself to be distracted for a split second.

Before you noticed what was happening and shoved him out of the way.

Before you stood in front of him, hands bound behind your back, body rendered immobile.

"Well, this is an interesting development."

Not-Suguru clapped his hands together.

"Oh well, this will do too. Actually, we just managed to nab the strongest's only weakness: his love."

"Who are you?"

You snarl, glaring at your former friend.

"Why, I'm Geto Suguru. Don't you remember me? I'm wounded."

"Bull. Shit."

All Gojo can do is stare blankly at you, and pray that this isn't happening. That one of his worst nightmares isn't playing out in front of him.

"I know damn well that Suguru would never go out of his way to hurt us. He may have hated non-sorcerers, but even at the end he held no hostility towards us. So I'll ask you again. Who are you?"

"Satoru."

Gojo jumped a little, but quickly smoothed his expression over as you used one of your techniques to communicate telepathically with him.

"You need to run."

No! He wanted to scream. There has to be another option.

You continue taunting and yelling at the creature inhabiting your friend's body, and Gojo realizes that you are desperately stalling for time.

"Listen, I know you don't want to. But right now, you can't do anything for me without putting yourself in serious danger. I'm expendable."

Not to him, you aren't. For you, he would tear apart the world with his bare hands. For you, there wasn't a risk he wouldn't take. He has to find a way out of this. For you. Because there was no world where you were fucking expendable to him.

"You need to run! Now! I don't know how much time you have, but I know you can make it outside. You are the strongest after all. Run. Regroup with the others."

He knows that what you are saying makes logical sense, but he still can't wrap his mind around it.

Then you spoke again.

"No one should be allowed to take youth away from young people. That's what we agreed, right? So go. Do it for our kids. Protect their youth. For them. For our dream. For me."

Quietly, oh so quietly, he says something.

"I'm scared."

He admits, so quiet you can scarcely hear him.

"I'm not."

Your tone is gentle and loving.

"You aren't abandoning me forever. This is only temporary. I know that no matter what happens, you will get me out of here. Not because you're the strongest or anything. Because you love me, and I love you. And nothing can keep us apart, 'kay?"

Moving as much as your restraints would allow you, you turn your head the tiniest bit so you can look at him.

"Go. Go save our kids. I believe in you. I'll see you soon my love."

Holding back tears, Gojo Satoru, the strongest sorcerer alive did the unthinkable.

Turning away from you and speeding up and out of the train station was the hardest thing he ever did, and will ever do.

But he did it.

For your many (unofficially) adopted children.

For your shared dream.

For you.

Always for you.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

This physically pained me to write, but it was taking up WAY too much of my brain space lol. Let me know what you think, and feel free to send in any requests you have!

Today I'll offer you Gojo manspreads and his long.... maybe legs 😈😈😈

Just look at those legs, look at those biiiiiig.... i mean hands, Mappa knows how to play with our minds 🥵🥵🥵

He could be my new chair 🥵🥵🥵

yeah, the author is crazy again 🤣🤣🤣

Today we have PAIN in the menu 🥲

and this quote from Madeline Miller:

I don't ship gojo with anybody, but damn! Gojo and Geto's friendship or relationship is just pure pain 😭

The writer is sad today... 😔

Hey there, I just found your blog and hope u have great day! May I request Gojo x small boobie reader since yk.. 🥲 u can add comfort if u want or not its up to u though 🤷‍♀️ i guess hes a canon tit guy due to his wallpaper was Waka Inoue but still i wonder how he'd react to his partner. Stay hydrated and take care of urself 🙏

SMALL BOOBS? NO PROBLEM!

warnings: smut, angst, unprotected sex, cunnilingus, fingering, dacryphilia, whimpering, insecure reader, p in v sex, praising, nipple biting, biting words: 1k.

A/N: is this me crying bc of one of my insecurities?, no, that's not me.

The first time you saw his wallpaper on his phone, it kinda broke your heart. You didn’t understand why of all the girls he has met, he chose you.

A man as handsome as him could easily get a girl with a big chest. So when he asked to be your boyfriend you thought he would just play with you.

The both of you already had sex some other times ago without making anything official. 

So when he planned to become your boyfriend he noticed your demeanor turning quieter, almost like you’re scared of something happening.

He tried to ask what’s wrong but you would always say anything is fine and give him a kiss to make him forget about that.

Which worked really well, until you became distant, not totally, but him watching you not wanting to be part of his go outs with friends, or not even going out with him, it caused him to be insecure of this relationship.

And he started noticing you covering up more of your body with clothes bigger than you. He didn’t like that. He loved your body.

So when things started to heat up one day and you said you weren't in the mood he finally broke down.

‘Baby what's wrong? You’ve been so different these days, am I doing something wrong? Did you find someone else?’ His voice sounded like it was about to break, never in his life he felt so vulnerable, the fear of losing you was eating him alive.

‘Please tell me what’s wrong,’ He cupped your cheeks with his hands, tears forming in your eyes, he looked at you, ‘I’ll fix it baby, please.’ His face changed from fear to sadness when he watched you break crying. Without a word he hugged you, keeping the comfortable silence in the room, ‘I’m sorry ‘toru…’ he pulled apart from your brace and looked at you confused. ‘What do you mean?..’ Your hiccups trying to remain your cries broke his heart. ‘I-im not the type of girl you want.’ It’s like his heart was cut into a thousand pieces when you said those words, ‘What? You’re totally the girl I want, why do you think that?’ He cupped your face again, 

‘Y-your  wallpaper.’ You made a gesture pointing his phone with your chin, your gaze immediately looking away from Gojo. ‘What’s wrong with my wallpaper?’ His brows furrowed, moving his body to grab his phone from the nightstand and then showing it to you.

It was a picture of the both of you. You are hugging him, face hidden on his chest while he smiles from teeth to teeth, eyes scrunching and hugging you back like his life depended on it. 

The background was full of trees, you remember it was the day he asked you to be your boyfriend. On the right side of the picture there’s a heart with your initials next to it.

Tears formed again in your eyes, turning his phone to search for anything related to his favorite actress, you saw his clear phone case with a polaroid he took of you one day the both of you went for a walk. You were eating an ice-cream, probably laughing at something Gojo said.

You looked so pretty.

You broke down crying again, feeling guilty. You explained to your boyfriend why you were acting like these and the insecurities you had, making you hide your body from yourself and him.  

He broke down crying too, he immediately hugged you, thinking what he did for you to make you think that down of him. ‘I’m so sorry baby, before we were together I was scared to use a picture of us since maybe you felt uncomfortable, my eyes belong to you, I don’t care if you have small breasts, you’re the most precious thing in my life. Every part of your body was made for me and it’s perfect that way, you don’t have to hide it from me.’ He connected his lips with yours, making you leave an unexpected moan.

His kisses started marking your neck and continuing what you were up to before. Í’m going to show you how much I love you baby.’ His hands traveled down your body and got under your shirt. Pinching your right nipple with his thumb and index finger, making you whine at the sudden action. ‘I’m so sorry princess, i’m so sorry for not telling you everyday how perfect you are,’

He undressed the both of you while giving you quick pecks which made the both of you giggle, his kisses on your neck went to your chest and he inserted one of your nipples inside his mouth. You moaned, while his free hand played with your other nipple, ‘So perfect f’me’

His free hand slandered through your body until it met your wet lips and started playing with your clit, teasing your hole, making you moan. His mouth switched to the other nipple, inserting his middle finger while he rubs your clit with his thumb. ‘My pretty girl, mine and only mine.’

You whined at the sudden lost sensation of his fingers inside of you, but that whine turned into a silent moan when he inserted his cock inside of you. ‘so ready and wet f’me. This pussy is mine. Your body is so beautiful my love.’ 

His thrusts were slow but hard, every thrust followed by a praise after it. Sloppy kisses between the both of you, and him just exploring your body with his hands like he didn’t do it a million of times before. But this time it was appreciating it, leaving his touch for you to remember how much he loves you no matter what.

‘Cum baby, mph-’ His words were interrupted with a whimper when he felt your hole clench at his words, ‘Let’s cum at the same time.’ His rhythim suddenly changed into a quicker pse but still hard thrusts. Whimpers felt out of his mouth, tears also forming on his eyes, all you could do was moan and say his name like a prayer.

‘A-Ah! So pretty… so perfect.’ The last thrust sent a sudden electric shock between the both of you, all you could see was white, legs shaking, he groaned in your shoulder before biting on it. His cock strips of cum coming out and filling you up.

‘I love you baby, never forget that.’

a/n: yeah uh i'm so sorry 😀 i wrote this in 10 mins again i was definitely in my feelings

warnings: pure angst, hurt no comfort, chapter 236 spoilers, mention of death, not proofread

Imagine having feelings for Gojo. The strongest, the untouchable. The most handsome man you've ever seen with his soft, white hair that glistens in the sun and glows in the moonlight. His Six Eyes always glowing the color of the most beautiful ocean you've ever seen, otherworldly and out of reach.

It isn't easy seeing an absolute God in a mere man so close to you but so far. How do you compare to a man that is just absolute perfection?

You've had these feelings for Gojo since highschool, always too scared to tell the tall man how you feel because how could you? When you could see the many women and men who approach him like he's theirs, when he responds with a sweet, sickly smile and flirts with them like it was the best thing that happened to him that day.

You want the ground to swallow you whole whenever you see these interactions. Especially when the latest one was a the newest beautiful sorcerer transferred to Jujutsu High who attached herself to Gojo's side like a leach and Gojo just allows it, even giving the slightest faint touches to her increasingly exposed skin with every meeting they had.

It's like the tears come so easy, walls that you so desperately try to build up stronger and stronger each time just crumbles like it was made out of paper. The pain in your chest gets deeper and deeper each day until it feels like a knife is stabbing your heart directly.

But you go on with your day, fake smiles and fake laughter as Gojo comes up to you so easily with this wide grin while wrapping an arm around your shoulder. He was so cruel, unfair, but how can you blame him when he doesn't even have a single clue on how you think about him everyday like a lover?

Then what happens when Gojo does reciprocate those feelings? When he thinks of you the same way. Six Eyes always on you wherever you are on school grounds to keep you safe, silently changing your schedule to take the missions he thinks will endanger you.

But he was selfish? Or selfless? He keeps his distance, he doesn't think he deserved you. You were pure, beautifully made by the heavens, a kind of happiness he didn't think the Gods allowed him to have.

So when you get a heartfelt letter with a velvet box shortly after his death, a confession of love and care that was carefully brewing for decades now spilling onto your hands as your wide eyes shakily takes in the words he was telling you. You decide that love truly was the most twisted curse of them all.

'Ex' husband Gojo

Synopsis: The story of a broken marriage of the strongest sorcerer Gojo Satoru and his wife, Gojo y/n.

Tags: Minors do not interact, Gojo x female reader, mutual pining, established relationship, angst, slight smut, fluff, smoking, alcohol, self harm and more+. Please read tags carefully before interacting.

// Want to be tagged in updates? Sign up here! - TAGLIST CLOSED //recommended playlist //

○ 𝐒𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 01 ○

◇ Beginning of the End

◇ You and I

◇ Better without me

◇ The Aftermath-- 01........... , 02..........

◇ Is that it?

◇ coming soon!!

misbehaving — chapter nine

<- chapter eight | chapter nine | chapter ten ->

chapter 09: the devil is in the details [ series masterlist ] + gojo x f!reader / sukuna x f!reader; wc 6.1k

summary: plans are being made, moves are being played. and the more m you think that you’re in a state of paradise with the love of your life, the more you better watch out. (or — in which there’s more than one person who threatens to ruin your happiness.)

+ content warnings: slightly soft sukuna here hehe, mentions of death/past trauma, manipulation/gaslighting

notes: sorry sobs i’ve been so busy with sale season and got sick over the weekend ;-; but alas here she is hehe i’m sorry to end this one on a pseudo-cliffhanger but you know i love it <3 mwah ty to u guys <33

“…riots outside the state build—”

Flip.

“…escaped while on bail—”

Flip.

“…model Yuki Tsukumo was seen out with—”

Japan is a mess.

Nanami sighs as he gives up and switches off the television. There’s nothing useful behind those screens.

It’s 11.03pm on a Tuesday night.

One would think that it would be bedtime. But no, not for his father, because he’s not even back. Probably still holed up in his office, same as always.

Reason number one of why Nanami vows to himself never to work overtime unnecessarily in the future.

Seeing his father’s increasingly alarming eyebags is reason number two.

He’d rather not look like a zombie while he’s still in his twenties. That’s why studying ends at exactly 9pm, then he’ll have his subjectively late dinner before going to sleep by midnight.

There’s no reason for Nanami to be staying up tonight, but maybe this concern is for good reason.

His father’s been on edge recently, staying up later than usual. Nanami eyes the door to his father’s study—should he help himself?

Self-control doesn’t exist tonight, because Nanami lets himself in, turning on the lights only to find haphazard piles of paper covering nearly every inch of the room.

The embellished red rug can barely be seen, boxes of paperwork scattered everywhere. Nanami can’t even make sense of what is what, case files for all different types of crimes strewn about wildly in the room. In the corner, there’s a picture of Gojo Sr and Zenin Naobito pinned to a corkboard.

A small chalkboard stands behind the oak study table, the letters GCLSE are written on it, with illegible scribbles all around the sides.

Worry wrinkles Nanami’s expression, it’s not hard to guess what it stands for.

Gojo Corp, Limitless, Six Eyes.

Nanami has long since known that his father is a great detective, and that means making enemies. He doesn’t know what the bad blood between him and the Gojo family is, not that it’s of much concern to him, he doesn’t think he’ll mind not seeing that Gojo Satoru guy ever.

But there’s a sort of dread that fills him when he thinks of his father having a feud with the elders of that family.

They’re not good people, Kento.

Lies. They’re just so full of lies.

The further you stay away from them, the better.

He thinks his father’s a hypocrite.

What good does telling your son to stay away do when you’re the one sinking deeper and deeper into this Gojo situation?

It’s dangerous, isn’t it?

Nanami sighs. Judging by the kinds of crimes his father’s trying to tie the Gojo family to, if this monster does have a head, he’s not sure anyone will have a peaceful ending.

His eyes fall to the thickest file on his father’s study table, the edge of a photo sticking out the side. Nanami reaches out for the nameless file, brows furrowing when he realises he recognises the person in the photo.

It’s a picture of a man he finds familiar, and a girl he definitely recognises.

What’s his father doing investigating you?

Some days you find it unbelievable.

It’s the way you’re sitting between Sukuna’s legs, head resting on his chest, his fingers intertwined with yours, thumb rubbing circles on your palm. He likes to play with your hair too, you realise, always buries his head on your shoulder while you’re watching television.

Today he’s appeasing you and watching your favourite show, even if he finds romcoms completely and utterly laughable, or so he says. It’s funny the way he pokes fun at them but yet does the complete same gestures.

He sends flowers to your office randomly. He still buys you everything nice he sees or things that remind him of you. You’re pretty sure you need a new drawer to keep everything. He also forces you to be the big spoon sometimes (but he’ll always deny it whenever you bring it up). He still calls you a motherfucker ninety-five percent of the time, but always kisses your stupid face afterwards.

“Are you even paying attention? Your stupid ass made me watch this with you,” Sukuna grumbles, flicking your forehead.

“Sweetie, it’s way more entertaining than those stupid shows you like to watch where men get hurt trying out stupid stunts.”

Despite all the sweetness, you enjoy annoying him. You like how he deadpans, sharp jawline and flared nose. You know he hates sweetie and you know he hates being insulted, and you’re pretty sure if you were anyone else you’d be dead by now. But you’re you, and despite never hearing the words from his mouth, you know how he feels about you.

Sukuna takes your face between his fingers, tip of his nose touching your own, and a boyish smirk forms on his face. He’s always looking for reasons to kiss you, you realise, and trying to shut you up is always one of them.

And in spite of his ripped muscles and his less-than-desirable reputation, the way he kisses you is always gentle, slow, his fingers trailing down to your sides, gripping your waist, tight and firm, just nice.

You know he’s not easy, you know he’s hiding a lot of secrets, and if you only listened to yourself, you’d let him keep them.

But for some reason, the conversation you had with Shoko that night still haunts you.

ONE MONTH AGO

“Yeah, my friend was dating this guy just to make this other guy friend of ours jealous and now she’s actually marrying this guy she claimed to be fake dating, I’m totally not worried.”

It was difficult not to laugh at Shoko’s sarcasm, but you figure you’d rather hold it in than get more nagging than anticipated.

“Seriously, what was going through your head when you said yes?” Shoko asked you incredulously.

In her defence, she had every right to be worried, bewildered, scared for you, even. Given how Sukuna came off to people who barely knew him, which would probably mean everyone except for you and Toji, he was worse than bad news.

Maybe like how Naoya seemed to you.

“I guess Geto told you, huh?”

Shoko sighed, taking a sip of her cocktail because her migraine was taking a nosedive from the topic at hand, “of course he did. If I knew what was going to happen, I would’ve forced Suguru to take me as his plus one.”

“To be fair, I think he was Satoru’s plus one,” you countered, much to Shoko’s disamusement.

You seemed to recall that Gojo Sr didn’t really fancy Geto either, though you had no idea why that was so.

“Back to topic,” Shoko said as she leaned back against her chair, “are you crazy? What were you thinking?”

In all honesty, you didn’t even know. What were you thinking? It wasn’t like you regretted it, because you didn’t. Despite how things went, you didn’t regret saying yes at all.

“I guess,” you pondered, sighing, “I was just… thinking that I love him.”

For a moment, Shoko’s features softened, because she knew you wouldn’t use such a term lightly. You’d never even admitted to her about your feelings for Satoru, yet here you were, claiming to love Sukuna. She didn’t understand why, because she never even met the guy, but he must’ve done some things right.

For one, you were hustling all of a sudden, doing everything you could to make your business work. You were passionate, much more so than you’d ever been. It wasn’t something you’d bothered much about back when you were ‘with’ Satoru. And, if what Suguru said was true, you were a lot spunkier now, more lively, more rebellious. Maybe being with someone like Sukuna was good for you.

Instead of being consumed by everything Satoru was, you were propelled by everything Sukuna empowered you to be.

And even if Shoko was concerned about how shady that pink-haired abomination was, there was no denying his effects on you.

“Suguru said it was great seeing you stick it to Naobito, though,” Shoko sidetracked, chuckling along with you. “Since when did my best friend get all bold like that, huh?”

You swallowed the lump in your throat when you saw the fondness in her eyes; this was her way of showing support for you. This was how she said she’d try to drown out her suspicions on Sukuna just because you said you loved him.

“Maybe my man’s just bringing me over to the dark side,” you played along.

Shoko rolled her eyes, “Satoru’s probably a worse influence, so I guess that’s fine.”

“Oh right, how’s Satoru doing?”

It felt a little awkward to ask, but you were genuinely curious. Given your history, you didn’t know if you should even reach out to him. Maybe a break from you would do him better in the long run.

Shoko didn’t seem too concerned though, shrugging, “Satoru’s how Satoru always is. Still disobeying his father and getting on his nerves. His grandfather’s probably doing a lot of the mediating, otherwise I doubt Satoru would still be living in that mansion of his.”

Not exactly the kind of answer you were looking for, but you were still grateful anyway. At least it looked like nothing major was going on in the Gojo household.

“Oh right, what about you, how’s your baby doing?”

Business, she meant business.

“It’s getting better, I have a collaboration with Minamoto soon.”

“Wait, I heard of them before, that’s amazing!”

“Yeah, but it’s taking up all of my free time,” you sighed, recalling how Sukuna helped you whenever he could, even if he had just come back home late himself.

“What does your fiancé think about that?”

You grinned; that was the first time anyone called him your fiancé, and you thought you liked it. You liked it a lot. “He’s happy for me, even if he complains the entire time he’s helping me with packing my orders.”

Shoko found herself envious for just a second; maybe Sukuna really did love you. Helping you with something like that? Not what she would’ve thought.

“Fine, fine, Sukuna gets a temporary approval from me,” Shoko gave in.

“Only temporary?”

“Mhm, only temporarily until he puts a damn ring on your finger.”

Oh right, because Sukuna hadn’t even replaced the ring he threw away. But you didn’t really mind. That wasn’t what Shoko wanted to hear though, so you kept mum about that.

“He will, if Naobito doesn’t kill him first for tossing the ring he gave him.”

Shoko cringed hearing that name. “That old asshat? Ew. I don’t know what happened to Sukuna’s actual parents but they can’t be any worse than that Zenin dictator.”

You pursed your lips, deep in thought. You didn’t even know much about Sukuna’s past. It hit you then that you didn’t even ask.

Sukuna didn’t ask about yours either.

Both of you were living in the moment, which wasn’t a sin, but now maybe you understand a little of why Shoko was concerned. Could you really marry someone when you didn’t bother to make an effort to know more than what they showed you?

“What’s up with you today?”

“Hey, what were your parents like?”

Sukuna’s staring down at you, confused—with good reason, since he’s hovering over you and halfway through making out with you.

He cocks a brow, “babe, you know that’s a mood killer right?”

You sigh, pushing him to sit back up, straddling him, your perfect, pretty face so close to him. You’ve already got him by the balls and Sukuna’s pretty sure you know it, too.

“I know, but just… I just wanna learn more about you, that’s all.”

You’re full of weird requests. You always catch him off guard with them. The mean person in him wants to just brush you off, distract you with what his fingers can do, but then the absolutely enamored part of him can’t say no to you.

Fuck you. He really just always has to abide by what you say from now on, huh?

This is so stupid.

Sukuna sighs, and you grin because you know you won, and he rolls his eyes because he thinks you’re so insufferable sometimes.

He clenches his jaw, “what do you wanna know?”

You shrug, forehead pressing against his, your fingers playing with the buttons on his shirt. “I don’t know, did you know them at all?”

“Didn’t know my father, and my mother was a druggy,” Sukuna says, short and sweet because he doesn’t like any mention of either sets of his parents. None of them were any good.

You chuckle weakly, and Sukuna can see that your mind is elsewhere, your eyes staring into the thin air between you, “I didn’t know my father either.”

He feels an urge to ask you about it. This is an entire aspect of caring for someone he can’t understand. Why is the past necessary? Maybe it isn’t, but he feels compelled to know. Is this how you feel?

“What happened to your mother?” You continue asking.

Sukuna wraps both his arms around your waist, your breaths intermingling with each other because you’re still so close. The sounds of the show still on television drowns out into the background until all he can hear is your breathing.

His eyes drag up from your thighs to your chest to your eyes. You’re perfect, so, so perfect.

“Sold me for money, said I’d grow big and strong so they can use me.”

It’s more than you bargained for. It’s an entirely different world that he must have lived in before this, something you know nothing about because even if you never knew your father, at least your mother always took care of you.

Listening to what he said just makes you sad. And infuriated. You’re not even sure what’s an appropriate response.

“Who are they?” You can’t stop yourself from wanting to know more.

“Dunno. Escaped the first chance I could,” he pauses for a moment, like he’s pondering something. “All I could remember was the men on the ground, all bloody and red and the knife in my hands.”

Oh, that’s not a side of him you’ve ever seen. You’re not sure whether you should be terrified, because you’re not. On the contrary, you think it’s fine. They deserved what they got.

Whoever buys a kid and expects to use them instead of raising them is no good news.

“Are you scared of me?”

He’s soft. So soft. He’s not looking at you, just at your lips, maybe your chin. Something tells you this isn’t something he ever talks about.

“I’m not,” and you’re being honest, because he could tell you he’s murdered scores of people and you still wouldn’t be scared of him.

Sukuna’s selfish and greedy and he takes what he wants and you know he wouldn’t hurt you, that would go against his nature—how can he keep you if he hurts you?

Something tells you he doesn’t really believe you, that the words don’t exactly sink in for him, but that’s alright with you. He’s a little—okay, a lot—fucked up, but you’re well aware of that; you have been, ever since that first night.

Maybe you’re dreaming, but you feel him hug you just a little bit tighter, like a kid not wanting to part with their toys.

“You like to ask stupid questions,” he mumbles, rolling his eyes, and you adjust yourself so that you’re laying on his chest.

“Something tells me you don’t talk about this a lot.”

“I don’t talk about stupid shit like this ever.”

“Does anyone else know about your parents?”

“Just Toji.”

“Mm, I guess that makes sense.”

“Huh?”

You sit up, “I mean, only Satoru knows about mine too. I don’t really like talking about mine either.”

It’s petty—Sukuna knows it’s fucking petty, but he’s not going to just sit there and hear that “Satoru” (mockingly) knows more about something in relation to you than him.

“Babe, tell me about your parents.”

You snort, knowing exactly why he’s asking, but you tell him anyway, your fingers absentmindedly twirling his soft pink locks. “Mom died a few years ago, got into an accident and lived in the ICU for about a month or two,” your voice gets softer as you continue, the memory etching a searing pain into your chest. “She was stable… until she wasn’t.”

The day you received the phone call is still fresh in your mind. The aching pain you buried for so long is still able to claw its way back up whenever you think about it. All you remember is the way she laid on the hospital bed, face bruised and legs broken and hanging on, and on, and on, until one day she just couldn’t.

Was it selfish for you to wish that she did?

Sukuna is silent, because he doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t know what it must feel like; he’s never lost anyone that important to him because that person has never existed until you.

“And uh,” you sniffle a little, rubbing your nose, “I knew nothing about my dad. My mother only said nothing good would come out of ever knowing anything about him, so I just left it at that.”

“Looks like we have something in common,” Sukuna murmurs, his fingers playing with your hair too, his other hand trailing lines down your thighs and calves.

You can’t tell what he’s thinking.

You giggle, “I think having horrible fathers isn’t anything to celebrate.”

Sukuna chuckles with you, and it’s a kind of intimacy you never thought existed. The kind where it’s a soft glow, a warm light in your chest that resonates with someone, one that you know is for you and you only.

“Maybe not, but what do you say we go away for a bit?”

“Oh? Someone’s feeling romantic,” you tease, because it’s been a while since he’s whisked you away to another country, destination unknown. Frankly, after everything that went down, you won’t be opposed.

Sukuna scoffs, shoving you off of him and onto the empty space next to him on the couch, “don’t flatter yourself, woman. Just looking for a place to dump your dead body in so I won’t have an annoying insect living in my house.”

So he says, in that ever not-so-subtle way of his. But you’ll let him have it, shooting him a fake pout because you know he likes it, likes you, likes to tip your chin up with his index finger and press a kiss to your nose.

“Oh, wherever you’re taking me, it’ll have to be after my pop up,” you tell him, mentally picturing the calendar—that’s roughly a month from now.

“I know, next month right?”

And you smile, because Sukuna only always remembers important dates when it has something to do with you.

“Mhm, I gotta make sure everything is perfect.”

Everything goes smoothly, because Sukuna actually listens to you. He just says okay to your reasonable demands, otherwise he just flips you off for being such a pain in the ass and still hugs you to sleep even if you had one of your occasional couple squabbles earlier.

He feels a little guilty for being relieved that you’re preoccupied, only because that means you don’t realize that he’s coming back home at two in the morning sometimes, since you’re so hard at work.

Apparently this collaboration with Minamoto is the biggest thing that’s happened to your brand yet, so understandably, you’re focusing almost every ounce of your energy into that.

That’s also why it catches the ears of people who aren’t so happy for you like Sukuna is, like Gojo is.

“She’s making quite a name for herself, isn’t she?” Naoya muses as he scrolls through the news on his phone, your name just briefly mentioned as one of the attendees.

You are talented, good at what you do—he’ll give you that. But that’s exactly why—Naoya’s eyes flick up to his father—Naobito is so bothered.

“People like her need to be brought down,” is all Naobito says, eyes fixated out the window, on the concrete ground below.

Sometimes he imagines Sukuna’s head bashed against the gray stone. Sometimes he imagines you. Both of you are just trouble, so much trouble.

Naoya sighs, it’s beyond him what exactly Naobito has against you. Did thwarting his marriage plan for Sukuna and Mei Mei warrant this much action?

“I expect you to do your part at the pop up,” the old man demands, not once looking at his son. Naoya makes sure not to say a thing. He’s not going to promise anything. “And I trust you’ve sorted things out with Chisaki?”

There’s a sly smug smirk on Naoya’s face that no one can mirror, “of course. He’s currently cozy in a hotel room with two of my most esteemed women.”

It’s easy to buy a guy like that over. It barely took any effort on Naoya’s part. Chisaki is still pissed at Sukuna, but apparently, he’s also still intrigued by you. Just a little offhanded promise about how he’ll get to meet you again was enough to soften the deal.

Not that that would be any issue. You’re Naoya’s assistant; he’ll make you obey him one way or another. No doubt that Sukuna has urged you to quit your day job, that you make enough money on the side anyway.

But Naoya’s not going to let that happen. Not before he’s had his fun with you.

He peeks down at the article in his hand, memorizing the address of the launch. You’re a curious one; such a delicate girl, yet you manage to earn the ire of a couple of the most dangerous businessmen in Tokyo.

Naoya smirks.

Time to surprise you and see just what you’re worth.

Flashes go off everywhere.

There are several news reporters lining the outlines of the pop up store, scribbling things down on their little notebooks. There are throngs of people lining up in front of your booth, excited girls measuring their wrists and admiring the different crystals and pendants on display, anxious to get their own personalized piece.

“Looks like you’re busy, huh?”

You look up from your workstation to see a petite young woman, blonde hair with brown roots, chirpy disposition and polite eyes.

It’s the intern working at Minamoto as their social media content creator, Akari Nitta. She’s already taken several reels of you hard at work.

You are busy. A little too busy. You’d expected maybe twenty people in line at the most, but now it’s stretching past the corner and you’re almost panicking.

Still, you reciprocate her warm smile, “yeah, I didn’t expect this many people to show up.” Though, you suppose you owe it to the brand’s name. You’re thankful they gave you a shot to collaborate at all.

Standing up, you put the bracelet you just customized for the college girl in front of you around her wrist, making sure it fits snugly. The cultured pearl sits in the center, elevating the entire look of the accessory.

That’s what your collaboration is centered around—your customized jewelry collection paired with their cultured pearls; you practically jumped at the opportunity.

“Really? I expected this though,” Nitta comments, eyeing the line. “Your accessories are amazing, I bought them for my friends as gifts!”

You thank the girl for waiting patiently before you turn your attention back to Nitta. “You bought from me before?”

Nitta nods, “mhm, I love that they’re high quality yet affordable.” She grins, hands behind her back, shifting her feet nervously.

You laugh, seemingly knowing what she’s struggling to ask you, “I have a few spares in my car—” the one Sukuna had bought for you—“you can see which one you want, how about that?”

The girl’s practically jumping on the spot, running to hug you, and you’re losing track of how many times she’s said thankyouthankyouthankyou. It really isn’t necessary, you’d been thankful to her for helping to keep you sane while preparing for this earlier, the two of you being the only ones there since 5am to set up and prep.

Before you can even say anything, you hear a familiar voice, one you didn’t expect to hear here of all places.

“So this is what my assistant does in her free time, I see.”

You sigh; this man has a talent for making unwanted appearances. “Naoya, did you come to get yourself one too?”

Naoya smiles at the first lady in line, wordlessly taking her place—apparently his charm works on some people, especially people who don’t know how repulsive he can be. You’re just thankful he hasn’t shown that side to you yet, though you know it’s probably coming soon.

“Can you blame me? I just wanted to see what my pretty little assistant is up to,” he tells you without skipping a beat, like he’s used to saying things like this.

“Aw, that’s sweet,” first-in-line lady coos, tucking a lock of her blonde hair behind her ear, a visible pink blush on her cheeks. Looks like someone doesn’t mind being a Mrs Zenin.

Naoya shrugs, “I’m here to support one of my dear friends, that’s all.” There’s that smile again, that fake one he throws, that sweet one that almost fools you into thinking that hey, maybe he’s not that bad.

It’s all a lie anyway.

That’s what Sukuna warned you about; Naoya knows what he’s doing. He doesn’t do anything for no reason. You guess it includes this; how he’s trying to get close to you. And shamelessly as well.

“Clasp?”

“Magnetic,” he responds, serenely, too calmly.

“Base?”

“Hm, the tennis bracelet.”

He lets you take his wrist to measure, though you’re considering whether or not you should purposely make it a little too big for him. But then he might lodge a complaint and with his status and power, you’d be done for sure.

Mm, maybe not today.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of my boss visiting me on his day off?” It’s more to seem polite than anything, with this many pairs of eyes on you. Anywho, you’ll be done with his simple bracelet in a minute, then you can make up some stupid excuse about why he can’t be here.

He better not be planning on sticking around.

“Maybe you’re just that special, Y/N,” he tells you, his free hand moving to your chin, tipping your head up to look at him.

In this light he almost looks kind, with his wanton smile and his crinkled eyes. You want to ask him what his play is, want to tell him to fuck off and find some other poor girl to torture, but you decide that maybe playing dumb is the better move.

“Hitting on your brother’s girlfriend doesn’t make me feel very special, Naoya,” you mutter under your breath, clasping the finished bracelet around his wrist, already adorned with a single small cultured pearl.

Naoya takes that chance to grab your wrist and pull you closer, his cheek brushing yours; you can smell the cologne off his neck. His lips graze your ear slightly, “careful, Y/N, wouldn’t want to end up like your mother, would you?”

“What?”

His words manage to make you freeze up, stiff as a board, even after he pulls away. Naoya appraises your shocked expression, crossing his arms.

How does he know what happened? No no, more importantly, is there a reason why you should be worried? As far as you know, her death was just an unfortunate accident.

“Everything alright here?”

Another familiar voice, but one that’s more welcome.

Naoya turns and sighs, that kind facade still plastered on his face. “Gojo Satoru,” he greets, unfazed by the tall hunk of a man getting up close in his space. “Didn’t expect to see you here especially after Y/N broke your heart. Must suck to have to see the girl you love agree to marry someone else, huh?”

Satoru’s taken his position beside you behind the booth, an angelic smile coupled with a cold piercing gaze, “yeah but it sucks to have to see your ugly face more, so why don’t you just fuck off?”

If it hadn’t been for Naoya’s earlier comment, you would’ve been trying to get Satoru to calm down, but ever since he mentioned your mother, you find yourself in a haze of confusion.

“Y/N, how’s everything going here?”

The question comes from the event’s organizer, Mrs Hataka, part owner of the Minamoto brand. Her black hair is tied into a neat bun, her face donning a full smile, looking very much unlike a woman pushing fifty.

Pushing your anxiety aside, you nod your head, “yeah, it’s perfect! Just trying to wrestle with the queue.” Which has been stuck in limbo because of two men.

“Oh, Mr Zenin! We didn’t expect to see you here, how’re you finding everything?” Mrs Hataka asks, shifting her attention to Naoya when she catches sight of him.

Thankfully, Naoya keeps it professional in front of her, “Y/N’s doing an incredible job, she even did one for me too,” Naoya tells her, showing off the bracelet you clasped on his wrist. “If you’re ever thinking of collaborating with her again, I’d definitely come and support.”

Right then, Mrs Hataka’s eyes shift over to Satoru, who’s also smiling down at her. She’s a little miffed as to how you’d know both of them, but she keeps her questions to herself, “nice to see you too, Mr Gojo, how’s your father doing?”

“Unfortunately he hasn’t keeled over and died yet,” Satoru says, probably serious although he does well to mask it as a joke, “I’m just here to assist my best friend here with her work.” He throws an arm around you, cheeky smile adorning his face.

Luckily, Mrs Hataka accepts his reasoning without question, and Naoya leaves right after. You’d like to question him further, but you really have to do something about this neverending queue of people.

Satoru sticks around, true to his word, helping you handle all the minor, menial tasks, which at the very least is still help. (Looks like he sort of made the line even longer.) Doing this alone was killer.

You don’t notice him stealing a glance at you every now and then, though. Gojo had come here purely just to support you and see how you were doing, but whatever Naoya had said to you earlier clearly frazzled you.

He’ll have to find out about it later.

The line dies down only towards the end of the event, around four hours later. You’re sure you’ve probably grown your traffic by ten times after today, and your head’s already trying to think of ways on how to manage your shop now that more people have been exposed to it.

Meanwhile, beside you, Satoru is putting on a bracelet for your last customer, adjusting the push pull adjustment clasp for her before sending her off.

“That line was super crazy,” Satoru remarks, slumping down on the chair, tipping his head back, closing his beautiful eyes, chest heaving up and down from his deep breaths, the tight black fabric hugging his skin.

Sometimes you think you know Satoru. Moments like this show you don’t.

He hasn’t spoken to you since the dinner party which is… weird, considering how much he’s been trying to talk to you before that.

But going by what Naoya said, maybe expecting a normal friendship out of Satoru is too unfair to him.

“What’re you thinking about?”

All of a sudden his cerulean eyes are right in front of you, shameless in the way they inspect your face, so blatantly close to you.

Satoru was an ass to you for the worst part of a year. He’s childish and mature at the same time, he’s unpredictable and borderline terrifying if you aren’t on his good side, and you hate him so much for how he made you miserable doubting yourself, your worth.

But Satoru’s still your friend. Despite being in love with you, despite not being the one you chose.

Gojo thinks you’re the one who’s incredible; you still tolerate him even now, when he’s trying to stay close to you, trying not to let himself drift apart from you—he doesn’t know if he can deal with everything without at least your presence in his life.

He doesn’t deserve you, not even close, not after everything you’ve done for him. So maybe this is the least he can do; be there for you when you need it, and disappear when you don’t.

If it’ll count as atonement for even a little bit, he’ll do it. Anything for you.

Even if it hurts seeing you smile because of someone else. Even if it hurts not being the one who protects you.

He’ll still jump at the chance to, because you’re all that matters.

“I don’t know, it could just be nothing.”

Still trying not to burden others with your problems; you’ve always been like that.

“It could be something,” Gojo points out, leaning in closer. “What is it?”

You smell nice. Your presence is comforting. He misses you.

Hesitancy clouds your expression, but you confide in him anyway, he’s the only one who was with you when she was in critical condition, when you were trying so hard not to break apart.

“Naoya told me to be careful unless I wanted to end up like my mother,” you say, and Gojo has to pull back a little.

Gojo’s brows furrow, “wasn’t her death an accident?”

It’s that uneasy feeling that rises up, like bile trying to fill his throat. If Naoya is saying such a thing, it’s hard for him to think it’s not a cause of concern.

A girl with short blonde hair comes by to tell you it’s almost 8pm and that Mrs Hataka wants to give a speech before you’ll all pack up but neither of you are really listening.

You’re terrified; it was just a stupid accident, right? It isn’t supposed to be any deeper than that, so why? What did Naoya know that you didn’t?

Gojo thinks the same thing too, and knowing you, you wouldn’t rest easy until you know the truth. And asking Naoya surely isn’t the way to go. No, not unless you want to set off another whole set of dominos in motion.

“Hey, Y/N?”

Your eyes are glazed over, you’re so close to crying, but you look at him anyway, a subtle strength behind his kind gaze.

“I’ll find out what happened to her.”

At the same time, in a basement on the other side of the city, Sukuna sighs as he enters the room.

It’s all concrete walls and floors, so sickish and gray and all sorts of shady. He’s gotten used to it though, after frequenting this place for over a couple of months.

Sukuna slams the files he’s holding onto the table. The place is oddly well-lit for a secluded area; ceiling lights still bright, a sturdy table lamp at the side flickering orange.

“I told you, this is all my PI could dig up,” Sukuna says, taking a seat opposite the man who called him there tonight. “There’s nothing useful in here.”

The man across from him sighs, leaning back against the chair. “If there’s even a tiny something, we can use it against him.”

Furrowing his brows, Sukuna leans across the table, studying his face. “Why? I know the guy’s trash, but why the fuck do you want to destroy him? You know there’ll be a blowback, right? Besides, I hate keeping stuff from Y/N, gonna tell me what all this is for?”

He remains stoic, straight-faced and no jokes, linking his fingers together and resting his chin atop of it. He sighs, he had wanted to keep this from Sukuna as long as possible, but he foresees that he wouldn’t play along if he didn’t get any answers.

Slowly, his fingers reach out to open the file, taking a photo out of the middle, throwing it down in front of Sukuna.

It’s a picture of Gojo Sr rushing out of a hospital.

“Because I think he had something to do with Y/N’s mother’s death.”

taglist (closed): @bimbokutos @dearestgojo @yeagerfushiguro @kimvmarvel @whoatherenelly @naturallyspontaneous @tamak00 @aceredhairliberal @watyousayin @rntrsuna @gojocumslut @lady-emy @littlemochi @kyokugo @a-book-lover-things @karasuneo @smoldrea @marie-is-in-the-dark @jeannieboys @melty-kisses @hvziers @jolynegf @kellyyween @hanmas @donttrustthefrench @yogurttea @jinadamsel @weirdnewbie @junpies @julieslove @4evahevah @shartnart1 @baekhyunatthehauntedhouse @kiyoomiee @britt-mf @todorokiskitten @moonlightaangel @yellooaaa @pricetagofficial @soulisslippery @lattebabie @lilithlunas @kaououru @t4naiis @naiomiwinchester @marjoryvamos @sparklydhokla @belovedcherry @sakurasimppp @starlet268 @oi-loverboy

misbehaving — chapter two.

<- chapter one | chapter two | chapter three ->

chapter 02: barking up the wrong zenin tree [ series masterlist ] + gojo x f!reader / sukuna x f!reader ; wc 9.9k

summary: you and your accomplice are happy to spite gojo satoru, but unknowingly, you’re not the only ones playing the game. (or — in which you’re happy to parade sukuna around as your boyfriend and go with the flow, but someone else is thinking of the long game.)

+ content warnings: fake dating, modern au, alcohol consumption, i may have gone a little soft here, mention of drugs. smut: oral (fem receiving).

notes: sobbing someone should really tell me not to get carried away write so much :’) gah I’ve been sick this week so I’m a bit out of it but slow burn for the first few chapters so hehe enjoy <3

Be careful that he breaks your heart.

I hear he’s super dangerous, if you need help just let me know, okay?

He’s not keeping you against your will, is he?

There’s many more things people have told you about Sukuna. Whether it’s from the Zenin office or from the staff working at the many resorts he takes you to, they all come to one conclusion.

Sukuna is bad news.

Keep reading

𝖍𝖎𝖘 𝖐𝖎𝖘𝖘, 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖗𝖎𝖔𝖙

summary: the king has been struck by never-ending grief when he found out about his wife's infidelity. he has her ordered to be killed, but afterward, he is no longer the same. every night he marries a woman, and every morning he has her killed. the endless cycle continues until the night you're chosen to be his wife. instead of letting him ruin you, you tell him a story. you tell him a story that he just has to know the ending to. and so begins the story of one thousand and one arabian nights.

pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader

genre: angst, fluff, enemies to lovers, strangers to lovers, royal au, based off of the story from 1001 arabian nights

word count: 10.7k+

warnings: dark content, mdni, 18+, mentions of killing, mentions of taking virginity, has the gallows and a noose in it, praise!kink, corruption!kink, cunnilingus, fingering, cum eating

note: for those who don't know, baba means dad, and aziz/azizam means my dear in farsi. this story loosely follows 1001 arabian nights, but not completely. i wasn't gonna sit on my ass and write them all out 💀

also a big, big, thank you to @jadeisthirsting for beta reading, ty sm bby!!

jjk masterlist

---

The palace smelled deeply of rose petals, a scent so distinctly comforting that you couldn’t help but smile giddily as you walked down the vast halls, looking at the different amenities the palace had to offer as you searched for the room you knew your father would be residing in. 

The more you walked, the darker the halls got and the less the smell of rose lingered in the air, a warning to stay away from this part of the palace. Though you had no choice but to ignore the prominent warnings, your posture became more frigid as you hummed a tune you had heard in the bazaar to keep yourself busy. 

You were well aware of the fact that your father resided right next to the king's quarters, so as you slowly opened his door to make sure no noise was heard, entering as you noted your father sitting on the edge of his bed, his wrinkly hands enveloping his tethered face as he could barely bring himself up to look at you.

“Baba,” Your heart dropped, running over to his frail body, your hands checking his forehead as your eyes filled with worry, “What’s wrong? Does your back hurt? Oh,” You noted his worn-out hands, “You have to let the king find another vizier,” You kneaded his hand with yours, “You cannot be his helper forever,” You cracked a gentle smile, but instead of his usual banter, he shook his head, still not looking up from his bed as he sniffled.

“Baba?” Your voice dropped to a whisper. Your father never cried. Never. Not when your mother died, not when the old king died, or even when you had managed to ruin his silken clothing. Despite his hardships, he was the man of the household, and he held himself to that standard.

But here, he looked like the shell of a man. His shoulders were hunched, lips pale as he shuddered, pushing your hands off of his back as he weakly stood up. 

“Y/n,” He stared at the door, eyes quite dead as he refused to look your way, terrified that if he did he would crumble to his knees and beg for an apology. Even worse, if he looked at you, his resolve would shatter and he’d leave the room as fast as he could, “Azizam,” You watched as a singular tear rolled down his cheek, “You will have to forgive me.”

You shakily rose, brows scrunched up in confusion as you let out a question laugh, walking over to him to see what he was talking about, what had gotten him so shaken up that he used such an endearing nickname he had never used before this day.

“The king has asked for you to spend the evening with him,” He muttered, voice hoarse and raspy as he broke down into tears again. 

“He…” Your shaky hands flew to your lips, eyes wide as you stumbled back, “He what?” Your frantic questions went unanswered as your father let more of his endless tears fall, wet lips holding back silent sobs as he turned back.

The king, a dreaded name for those around the palace. You childishly thought that being the daughter of the vizier would somehow spare you of the torture, of the horror that came with going into his quarters at midnight. 

He said nothing as he crumpled down to the floor, hands covering his eyes as you stared at the door, the same one you had entered through, and the same one that seemed to mock you as your hands shook at your side. 

One evening pleasuring the king meant spending the next morning dead.

---

Servants flocked to the room shortly thereafter.

They paid no attention to the old man as they ushered you outside, their nimble fingers working swiftly as they led you to a completely different room, stripping you bare as you worked mindlessly.

You fell into the large basin, cold water splashing across your body as they worked in silence, some here and there whispering words of pity to one another as they gossiped about your father's weakened state.

You knew that deep down, sooner or later, this day would come. That one night they will take you to get clean and pretty so that the king can spend his lonely night with a virgin to bed, and by morning have her dead so that she may not betray him.

You could guess why you were giving off no emotions as their hands scraped your body rid of the dirt and dust, rubbing rose petals across your flesh, running water through your hair as they worked quickly and effortlessly. 

At this point, you knew they had done this many times to know to be quick with the king's impatient temper.

You seemed to be like a mindless doll as they carried you out of the tub, staying quiet as one lady braided your hair, gentle as she wove flowers into the crown of your head. 

You watched as the other carefully dotted the roses across your cheeks, dipping her finger into the jar of honey as she brought it up, careful not to let any of it to waste as she swiped it across your lips, her eyes filled with deep sorrow as you stared out the windows and into the dark veil of night.

“You look very beautiful, azizam,” The old lady behind you muttered, her kind hands letting go of your hair as she gave your shoulder a gentle pat, “I’m sure your father would be proud of his daughter for serving the nation. 

Serving the nation in your one day demise.

“You have not been…” The old lady sighed, looking away as her hands fell to her side, “You have not been bedded yet, yes?”

You slowly shook your head, muttering out a quiet no as she nodded, ushering out all the other ladies as she came to your view, dropping down so that she was level with your knees.

“You are the vizier's daughter, so you must know,” She stated, her hands holding your cold ones as she pressed a soft kiss to the backside of it, “After you go into his room, he will tell you what he wants. When morning comes, he will have you killed.”

“I have heard it’s quick and painless, " She sighed, giving you a sad smile, “Yet those who have experienced it cannot tell the tale, and so I don’t want you to weigh too deeply on my words, okay aziz?”

The old lady looked down at your hands as she took in a shaky breath, lifting your chin as she patted your cheek carefully. 

“The time is almost midnight,” She said and your tongue felt heavy in your mouth, “He should be expecting us soon.”

---

His quarters were cold, that was the first thing you noticed. 

You expected frost to be on the windows, and your breath to be visible in the moonlight, but you could only shudder as you looked around the candle-lit room, wondering when the apparent king was going to make his appearance. 

Your shoulders were covered by the robes they had given you, but you still shivered as you took a slow step forward, expecting an echo to follow suit. 

You jumped when the door behind you clicked opened, and you looked behind to see his looming shadow behind you, growing slowly as he took steps forward, and you could feel his icy gaze taking you in.

His white hair matched the surroundings, and his eyes, oh his eyes. So blue, such a color seemed to be unknown to humankind. You wanted to reach in and hold his face so you could see if he had diamonds in his sockets, but you knew to restrain yourself, straining your spine as you matched his stare.

You had heard of the king's attractive outward appearance. Even when he had ordered for his old wife and her concubines to be executed, many of the women of the nation volunteered to fill her place as they never thought a man with such grace could be so cruel. 

“My king,” You said with a deep bow, the shawl that loosely covered your shoulders almost slipping off your skin at the movement. 

“Are you Y/n?” He asked, his voice deep and rich as he circled you, taking in your hair, the way your face seemed to shine brightly with the help of the candles, and how the robe around your shoulder hung snuggly around your body. 

“Yes,” You bit out, swallowing your fear as you turned with him, not wanting the man to see your true emotions. 

“You’re the oldest daughter of Ja’far?” His gaze traveled across your frame, settling seconds longer on your lips until they left as they glanced at the window. 

“Yes,” You said through clenched teeth, the unsettling blue in his eyes reminding you that you were simply a lamb in the lion's den. 

You watched as he slowly nodded, his jaw set in place as he glanced around the room, his nose wrinkling at the overpowering rose scent that lingered in your neck and wrists. 

“I’m Satoru,” He said, though you already knew that, “And I can assure you that these next hours aren’t as you’ve heard,” He mentioned with a tilt in his voice, but that only made your heartbeat more erratically, most likely the opposite of how he wanted you to react.

He worked by taking his gloves off, slender finger after slender finger, and he dropped them somewhere to the side, running a hand through his hair as he turned his back towards you, sighing deeply as he pinched his nose.

He moved to get something behind you, a drink the servants had laid out for him as he took in a heavy sip, his lips tainted red with the wine as he stared at the back of your head. 

His hands were slow yet delicate as they found their way up to your hips, and you let out a quiet yelp as you felt his cold fingers tracing the patterns that adorned your robes. 

“You’re pretty,” He muttered, his breath fanning over the skin of your neck, making you shiver, almost making you forget where you were as you felt your knees wobble from the weight of your body, “Haven’t seen you before, have I?” And you weakly shook your head, your heart pounding roughly against your ribcage as you felt his lips land on the skin beneath your ear, surprisingly gentle and warm as they kissed and nipped.

“You’re sweet, too,” He observed, and you could have sworn that have only lined your lips with honey, but he seemed intent on his statement, his lips moving more quickly as his hands reached up to the strings that tie your robes together.

And you froze, knowing that if he were to proceed, he’d surely kill you in the morning. And wouldn’t allow yourself to die tomorrow. You could not die to a man who wanted nothing more than to take your humanity and then dispose of you as if you were stale rice. You had a life planned outside of the palace walls, and you knew that deep down, this king could be manipulated in his fragile state of mind.

Your eyes darted around the room, trying to find anything to secure yourself until they landed on a jeweled knife, its handle crusted in rubies and emeralds and your eyes widened slightly with a mad, certainly mad, idea.

It was sharp and cleaned with precision. Sharp and versatile, and you didn’t doubt he had used it in the act of killing. 

“That knife!” You sputtered out, stuttering as you stumbled forward out of his grasp, almost hoping you could swallow the words back at the way he snapped his head towards you.

“What?” 

“A man once used that exact knife to get through the mountains of Zagros,” You quickly regained yourself, mind running quickly, two sides of yourself debating between doing this or sleeping with the king to quicken your eventual death.

The king stared at the knife for a couple of seconds before looking at you once again, his brows furrowed. 

“Excuse me?”

You straightened your shoulders once again, clearing your throat as you tried to regain your confidence. 

“A man that went by the name Aghā Ali,” You said, voice barely coming out of your throat as you tried to think of something as quickly as you could in your messed state, “When his daughter fell ill to the plague, he became desperate to find a cure. The village apothecary told him to go to the Zagros mountains and cut the red flowers he’d find in a field,” You nodded your head in the direction of the knife, “And he used a knife just like that one to cut the stem of the flowers when he found them…”

Silence fell in the space between the two of you, and you could see the rise and fall of his chest as millions of ideas running through his crystalline eyes.

“Are you telling me a story?” He asked incredulously, almost as if he couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of his mouth.

You cleared your throat, trying to shrug it off as you stared back at the knife.

“I’m simply stating that a man once used that knife before to save his daughter.”

“How do you know he used my knife?” He was testing you now, you could easily tell. His lips had curved into an evil smile, a cat's grin as he took a step closer to you, sensing the fear that still radiated off from your body. 

“W-well, not your knife, but one that looked much like that,” You explained, swallowing dryly as you tried for a sweet smile, one that he might like, as you continued.

“His late wife had given it to him as a present, and so he used it wherever he went, for whatever that he could.”

The king didn’t say anything, so you took it as a sign that he wasn’t angry yet.

So you moved, putting on the facade of somebody confident in their story as you slyly moved behind him, causing him to follow your quick feet as you walked over to the table, careful as you picked up the heavy dagger.

It was strange in your hand, and you could tell how uneasy he felt with the weapon in your hand. 

So you set it down, nodding as you swallowed your spit once again.

“Ali didn’t know his way around the mountains, so he got lost frequently in search of the flower,” Your fingers traced the rubies, shaking as you turned the knife over, running a pinger across the blade as you winced when it slit your skin, your blood staining it a bright red as you felt his eyes follow you. 

“And because he had no map he went off of instinct alone,” You moved around the table, eyes darting to the slick pillows and shawls fit for a king. 

“At night, he would lay under the moon and use his knife as a way to cut the animals open so that he could eat them for dinner. The mountains didn’t have anything big such as deer or goat, but he could hunt the occasional rabbits, even duck if he were lucky enough to pass by a lake.” You looked up at him from your lashes to see what he was doing, and much to your surprise he was staring back just as intently. 

“The man knew that with each passing day his daughter would be getting sick and sicker, and though she was stronger than his wife in terms of physical strength, the plague took no longer than a month to kill even the strongest of the king's soldiers, according to the village apothecary.”

Your robes felt heavy on your sides as you moved around the room, feeling the weight of everything slow you down as you tried to quickly think of more things to drag the story on. 

“So he continued the track across the mountain, getting weaker by the hour, more tired by the minute and he still could not find the flowers he needed to heal his daughter.”

“Why go through so much?” The king interrupted, clearly annoyed with the way your story was going. 

You stammered at the question, brows furrowing as you tried to make sense of it. 

“Go through so much?” You repeated, shaking your head, forgetting who you were and where you were as you tilted your head to the side, “ I’m not sure I understand,”

He shook his head, looking at the dagger as he simply shrugged. 

“The old man must be withering away in these conditions. If the girl would die in a matter of weeks, why should he push himself to such an extent?”

“Because it’s his daughter,” You quickly argued back, eyes narrowing as the king moved forward, taking off his heavy coats as he sighed in relief at the release of the material. 

“And?” 

“Well…” You sighed; realizing this must be difficult to explain to this particular man, “He cares for her and he doesn’t like to see his daughter in pain. He’s going through all this hard to make sure that she’ll be alright.” He scoffed as his hands found their way to a bowl, taking out one of the dates as he chewed on it before he spits the seed out. 

“That seems like a figment of the imagination,” The king chewed and then swallowed, his blue eyes never leaving yours as he explained, “Fathers don’t care much for their daughters.”

A part of you boiled in outrage at the statement. 

“Perhaps some don’t, my king, but that doesn’t mean all fathers carry no ounce of care for their daughters,” He could see your tremor fade off as it soon got replaced with fiery anger. 

“No?” He asked coyly, talking out another date as he repeated the same actions. 

“No,” You said without letting your voice waver. 

“Then why did your father offer you up tonight? Surely he could have picked your other sister if he cared for you that much. Or the servant that’s standing right outside my door. Or maybe even the girl who cleans up the horse shit in the stables. Surely a fathers love my reach beyond that point, no?”

You could feel your resolve crumble as you listened to his words, your heart heavy isn’t the small expanse of your chest as you refused to breathe properly. 

Did he simply offer you up as easily as the king was saying? Just like a lamb for slaughter?

“Just as I was saying,” He continued, happy with your obvious shock, “I find it rather hard to believe that Ali would go through the mountains of Zagros to find a flower for his dying daughter.”

He looked pleased with your silent state, watching keenly as you swallowed the thick lump accumulating in your throat. You took in a deep breath, controlling the shake in your voice as you stared at something behind him. 

“The old man was relentless,” You continued the story, pretending that your conversation with the king was nothing, and missed the way his face fell for a second, taken back by the way you could compose yourself with clear tears making their way into your waterline, “But the flower was hard to find.”

“One night as the man was cleaning out his rabbit, he stopped when he noticed the rabbit had red petals lining the fur near its lips.”

“And so he cut the stomach to find it full of red petals, the same color as the flower he was so desperately trying to find.”

“The next day he went in search of rabbits with the same fur, and that night he was able to catch another one with the same petals in its stomach.”

“And so the old man followed the trail of rabbits until he one day, miraculously stumbled across a field full of the red flowers.”

“He was eager as he stuffed them in his satchel, memorizing the path he had taken as he passed by the old streams and lines of trees, his bad bursting at the seam with red relates and green stems.”

You stopped, tilting your head to the side as you gave out another yawn, oblivious to the fact that in the minutes you had spent thinking of more to tell, and in the hours you had spent explaining the complexity of the story to the king, the sun had begun peeking its way through the mountains. 

“So when he got back home, his daughter told him that she only had a couple of days left to live before the plague got to her,” You didn’t notice how the king had risen from his satin seat, walking slowly over to you as his impatience got the best of him. 

“And then?”

You whipped your head around at the sound, heart beating wildly in your chest at his unexpected voice. 

“He cut the flowers up and mixed them in with tea, and each day he’d double the amount of the flowers he would use,” Your bodies were close to each other, so close that despite his tall stance you could feel his breath hitting your cheek, his eyes following the rise and fall do your chest. 

“Did she not like the tea?” His voice was taunting and you shook your head, trying for the same menacing smile he was giving you. 

“No,” You moved away from him, your robes swaying behind you as his gaze traveled across your swift movements, “She loved it. Each day she’d ask for triple the number of flowers instead of double,” Your eyes were trained on the window that pointed to the east. 

“But,” You gnawed on your lip, “Ali didn’t realize that what he was doing was wrong,” You could hear him moving from behind you, his feet padded on the ground. 

“And why is that?”

Your eyes darted to the window, the way the sun amazingly shone through the stained glass and colored his snow hair a mix of blues and yellows, something that your somber mind never thought you’d see again. 

“The sun is coming up, my king,” You noted, your voice catching in the back of your throat as if you couldn’t believe what you were saying. It seemed that he too, couldn’t believe such a thing as he looked behind himself in doubt. 

The two of you said nothing as his eyes widened for a second, lips parted in a shock as he looked at you in relative incredulity. 

“My king…” You whispered, voice hoarse as you swallowed thickly, praying that your devious plan was working its way to the man, “What should I do?”

The king could only stare at you in somewhat disbelief, eyes narrowing as he rubbed tiredly at his eyes, a yawn escaping his lips as his kind ran with millions of thoughts about what he should do with you. 

Never had somebody stalled him for the entirety of the night, let alone made him want to know more about the woman before he had her ordered to be killed. And despite him deep down knowing that this would surely ruin everything he had done to barricade his lonely heart, he shook his head slowly, brows scrunched up in confusion as he admitted to himself that he wanted to know the rest of your story. 

“No,” He muttered out to himself, shaking his head as he glanced over at you, but it weighed heavily in the expanse of his room, “Come tonight and finish the story.”

And he didn’t need to say it to know that you had managed to get the king hooked. 

---

When the door creaked open with the maids once again lamentable at the fact that they’d be leading you to your death, they were surprised to still find your robes adjourning your shoulders, and the look of both dissatisfaction and something more lining the king's face.

They all stared at him, waiting for the same orders that would tumble out of his mouth every morning, but he just waved them aside, pinching the bridge of his nose as he muttered out a quiet, “I expect you to finish tonight,” Before he shrugged his coat back on as he stalked out of the room.

As he moved past the servants, all the ladies stared back at you, mouths hanging open in shock, their hearts pounding in their ears, mirroring yours as the old lady who had bathed you the night before took a tentative step into the bedroom. 

“Y/n…?” She asked slowly, testing to see how you would react, to see if he had done anything that could have broken both you and the cruel king to such a point, “Is everything alright?”

You stared at her, giving her a slow nod of your head as you couldn’t believe you were able to see the sun rising and hear the laughs of bewilderment that came from the servants behind the old lady.

“Did he say he wants to see her again?” One of the younger girls peeped up, and everyone snapped their heads over to her, the question everybody was wondering finally spoken out loud.

“I think he did,” One of the girls behind her answered, still not believing what they were hearing.

“What did you do?” Another one asked, testing gazes all focused on you, curious, begging to know just what you had done to break the streak of killings.

“I,” You sighed, rubbing your throat as you pushed some hair behind your ears, letting out a skeptical laugh, “I just told him a story.”

---

That night, they did the same thing as the previous one.

They stripped you down, this time a bit more gentle as they weren't much grime to scrub off, but still generous in the amount of fragrance they dabbed all over your body. 

“Tonight,” The old lady who you had come to learn was named Nasreen, muttered softly, quiet enough for only you to hear, “Draw out your stories. Make them more interesting than the last,” She whispered into your ear as she led you back towards the king's quarters, “I have never seen the king so,” She paused looking for the right word, “Forgiving as he was last night. You must have made an impact on him,” Her voice was laced with pride yet worried, “Don’t forget to make him more enthralled tonight than the last, alright?”

You merely nodded, tongue heavy in your mouth as you thought of all the stories you had come up with in the hours leading up to now, that in the hassle of the palace trying to get you prepared for the king you came up with the most fantastical stories you could think of. 

“Y/n,” She stopped you right behind the familiar door, “I wish you all the luck,” She pressed a quick kiss to your cheek, scuffling away as the clock near midnight once again, fearful that if she stayed long enough she’d get too attached to you. And she had learned her lesson before.

Your eyes were trained on the door handle, hands filled with heavy lead as you raised them to the gold knob, giving it a slow twist as it opened easily into the freezing room.

It was dark, just as you remembered it being the previous night. The chilly air wrapped itself unwillingly across your frame, and with each heavy step, you took forward, the more dread-filled itself inside your head.

“Close the door,” His voice called out from the bundle of blankets and pillows that were laid out on the floor. You jumped when you noticed he had been there the entire time, shutting the wood quickly behind you as you shuffled inside.

“My king,” You gave him the customary bow, your heart pounding roughly in your ears as you heard some noise come from his side of the room, the ruffling of fabrics as he stood up, walking his distance towards you.

He said nothing as you lifted your head, his sapphirine eyes meeting yours as they stared boredly ahead, as if he could be more amused, and grunted, muttering something to himself as he walked away, picking up a date from the bowl as he pitted it and munched on it slowly.

“You seem displeased,” He noted, looking at your frigid body, “Are you not comfortable?” His white hair moved as he tilted his head to the side, trying to figure out why you seemed so reserved.

You chuckled a bit in surprise, not thinking him to be of the right mind to ask such a question.

“My king,” You started, thinking of the nicest way to phrase what you were going to say next, “Forgive my outward appearance but…” You laughed again, almost to yourself that he could even be confused, “I must admit, I have reason to be drawn away.”

He looked back at you, eyebrow cocked as your fingers picked at each other, your mouth brought in a thin line as you looked around the room, anywhere to escape his heavy gaze.

“If you are not comfortable standing,” He gestured to the space to his side, “There is ample room for you to reside as you finish your story,”

You swallowed thickly, thinking of what would happen if you agreed to his offer. Sitting next to him, in such proximity, could insinuate things that you were trying to hold off for as long as you could.

But your feet were already tired from standing for so long last night, and with the hecticness of the day that followed, you found your body disobeying your rational mind as it slowly brought you over to his residing area.

You could see his sly grin growing at your willingness to come over, and you watched as he moved his slender legs to the side, letting you almost break to the ground as you let out a small groan of pleasure at how soft the fabric lay beneath you.

His eyes widened slightly at the sound, his heart beating rapidly as your lids shut for a second, your face momentarily blissed out as you craved for such relaxation until they snapped back open, remembering just where you were.

“S-so,” You cleared your throat, moving away as far as you could as you rest your back on the wall, “If you so please, I can continue with the story of Aghā Ali.” You paused to see his reaction, and he gave a little nod of his head, allowing for you to continue.

“The flowers he had been told to get from the mountain were useless, and even worse, doing more damage than good. The apothecary who told him to find the flowers was a greedy man who had been in love with Ali’s wife, and now daughter, and could only see them as his own or as dead.” You peeked over to see what the king was doing and was somewhat surprised to see him staring back intently at you.

“In a jealous and insane rage, the apothecary had been poisoning the bread that Ali and his daughter ate, and despite all his best tries, Ali seemed immune to the lethal dosages he was receiving. So, in hopes of trying to get rid of him, he told Ali that the flowers found in the Zagros mountains would be the only cure,” He sat up, supporting his head in his hands as his eyes narrowed.

“Why not kill him?” He asked and you paused, licking your lips as you smiled, glad to have anticipated his question beforehand.

“Because killing Ali would mean that he would no longer be allowed to go to Jannah, and the apothecary was weary of the sins he committed.” His eyes shined a darker shade of blue at your statement. 

“Unfortunately for the apothecary, Ali was a bright man and could pick up on the flowers' dangerous properties. Ali was also aware of the apothecary’s jealous fit and quickly put the two and two together. So, instead of wasting time spending his rage on the apothecary, he decided to wait.” You crossed your ankles together, adjusting your robe as you shivered, the air still cold no matter how much you adjusted your shawl.

“To wait?” He interrupted, lips pursed and brows furrowed in confusion. You got worried that he was losing his interest in your story, but he sat up, his white hair falling as curls on his face, eyes still shimmering blue as he tilted his head, “He decided to wait?” 

His childish demeanor not only made you startled, but you could help but let your lips tug into a smile, and you tried to cover it up with a cough as you nodded.

“Ali was a very observant man. He could tell that whenever his daughter ate the bread, the sicker she got. So he waited, feeding her only bone broth and tea, without the flowers, of course,”

“And just as Ali had suspected after he stopped feeding her the bread and the flowers, she got healthier with each passing day. When the apothecary realized that Ali had once again won over his devious plan, he gave up,” You looked over to the jewel-encrusted knife, “And the apothecary slit his throat as a final testimony to his dying will.”

You could see how the king's eyes widened, his lips parting as he became even more confused. 

“That's it?” He interjected, “He dies?” Bile rose to your throat, terrified that you had only upset the king until you tried to calm yourself down, your plan steady in your head as you raised your hands in a gesture to calm him down.

“For that story, yes, my king, but I also happen to know another story that you might enjoy,” It was a sudden change, but you wanted him to forget who he was for a second, to look past everything so that you could continue.

You could see something happening behind his stoic gaze, how his eyes narrowed once again, trying to sniff out your ingenuity, but you offered him a tender smile, one that held more behind it than he could tell, and the king only sighed, laced with annoyance and anger because of your stranglehold on his curiosity, and he glanced out the window.

“Well, hurry on with it,” He muttered, falling back down as he picked up another date to chew on. 

And you grinned widely and didn’t care if he could see.

“My king, I doubt you’ve heard the story of the seven voyages of Sinbad…”

---

And so, the cycle continued.

You found yourself in his quarters night after night, evading death by ending on a cliffhanger that the king could only hear if he extended your death by one more day. Every night, you’d finish the story and start on another, prompting the king to a circle of never-ending stories.

The palace, stalked by your boldness to make the king enamored by your storytelling, began working like clockwork, giving you time to yourself to sleep during the day, as well as time to think up new and enticing stories the king may like.

You could tell he had a knack for adventures, and so you tried to make each one more exciting than the last. He was fond of poems of love and war, though he seemed to prefer stories of erotica more.

He was cruel, and even in the daytime, when you didn’t see much of him, you heard of his doings. While he seemed to be keen on not killing you until you run dry of things to tell, he still ruled with an iron fist, and the woes of the nation were only going unheard.

“Y/n,” The king interrupted you one night, pushing himself up by the elbows as he looked at you in your bundled-up corner, “What do you see?”

Your brows scrunched up in confusion at his question, and you squint to see what he was looking at.

“I’m sorry, but I’m not sure I understand,” Your fingers fidgeted with one another as the king scoffed and he licked his teeth, weaving his hand through his hair as he motioned for you to come closer to him.

You slowly obliged, crawling over to where he was sitting as you gave yourself some space from his side.

You could notice his features more clearly here when the candle could illuminate his features better. His hair was arctic white, white than the snow that would litter the ground in the colder months. And his skin was pale and easily flushed red, almost as if the man refused to go outside in the summer. And his eyes, you could recall just how entranced they made you when you saw them at first. They seemed so hypnotizing, so surreal, that had this man not sent a chill through your bones, they might have put you under his charms spell.

“In the paintings, what do you see?” His eyes were trained on the wall, and you looked ahead, your mind reeling as you took in the different men and women painted in the photo, and what the artist could have meant when they drew it.

“I see…” You looked a bit longer, tilting your head to the right to get a better view, “A man being seduced by a woman,” You inspected the painting longer, “She seems like a witch of some sorts, maybe an enchantress,” You gnawed on your lip as you took in the background of the mural, “And she’s been able to lure him to his demise, judging by the red on her robes.”

You looked to the side to see what the king was thinking, only to him glancing at you, and you felt your cheeks heat up as you quickly looked away.

“I don’t see where you got the seducing aspect,” He admitted, and he shifted his weight onto his other hand.

Your brows furrowed at how he could miss such an obvious message. You raised your hand, pointing out to the woman as he followed the direction, “You see how her wrist is turned as she’s greeting him? Normally, you’d see people who try to romance one another have opening gestures, but she'd be more closed off and alluring. She dressed in red with minimal jewelry, which can mean that the man prefers somebody dressed down rather than inviting.” You explain and the king let out a small chuckle.

“You got all that from how her wrists were turned?” Your cheeks heated up once again as his eyes twinkle at your obvious embarrassment, and you looked away, shrugging as his smile only grew.

“Many of the artists I know explain the little details to me,” You muttered, “And you asked how I interpreted the piece. You got my answer,” He wanted to coo at the way your lips pouted, at how much less tense you seemed to be over time, and just how alluring you seemed to be when you childishly scooted away from him.

“You know artists?” He asked, perplexed by the outside life you shared and he knew little of it.

“Of course,” You nodded, “The bazaar is full of them. If I have time I walk around aimlessly, for the fun of it. You meet many interesting people where you’d least expect them,” You rubbed your nose, your eyelids growing heavier as the night continued.

“The bazaar,” He repeated to himself, and you glanced over to see him looking longingly at the painting, “I used to be quite the fanatic of the bustling streets.”

“You don’t go anymore?” You asked and he shook his head. Had he not been adorned in royal clothing and his title so glaringly obvious, you would have felt as though you were having a simple conversation with a friend, not the tyrant king everybody had come to fear.

“They’ve become a rather dark staple for me,” He admitted, “I can’t say I’m most eager to go back.”

You scoffed, your shoulder shoving his as his eyes widened in surprise by your out-of-character move.

“Everything has become a dark staple for you, my king. You cannot expect to outlive your past if everything you see reminds you of it,” Even sitting, he towered over you, and he had to crane his neck to stare at you in the eyes.

“There are some things I prefer to remember,” He gritted out, his lips turned into an unpleasant snarl as his eyes darkened, clouded by memories.

“I’m not saying you should forget, my king,” You toned your voice down in hopes of calming him down, “I’m saying that you move on.”

He scoffed, cheeks tinted a fiery red as he puffed his cheeks out, his stance now defensive as he turned his head away from you.

“What should you know?” He bit out, rolling his eyes at the thought of somebody like you understanding the utter betrayal he had gone through. The feeling of his heart being ripped apart piece by piece until everything in him stopped functioning because his entire world had come crumbling down.

“I don’t know,” You told him, your voice soft as if carrying itself to his fragile mind, “But heartbreak is an unstoppable force, my king, and you cannot stop it from ruining your state of being. But it’s better if you move on and be-”

“I can’t move on!” He instantly roared, his voice shaking as he whipped around towards you, his shadow great in size as it dwarfed you in its presence, “Can’t you see that?” His voice wobbled for a second, and in his shaking glare, you could see his eyes water, how they seemed to dim in their crystalline glow as his lips shook.

You raised a hand to his chest, gently pushing him back as he easily complied, and you sighed, pushing some hair out of your forehead as silent tears rolled down his cheeks.

“Your wife is dead, my king. You had her killed. She cannot haunt you any more than in thoughts,” You could hear his sniffles, how he shook when he took in a breath.

“I can’t move on,” He repeated thickly, “It hurts so much,” 

“The pain is bare, my king,” You said slowly, “But what you have caused in its wake is destruction. You cannot think yourself to be healing in the act of death.”

You had feared you had said too much, but he only looked at you, hiccups leaving his mouth as his head fell onto your shoulder, and felt his tears wetly stain your robes.

“You don’t deserve this,” He said, “They didn’t deserve it,” He groaned into your coat as if realization was finally dawning on him.

“I’m sorry,” He wept out, and at this moment he was no longer a king, but a weak man who had his share of the world. He muttered it out over and over again until his cries and his apologies filled the air in the royal room.

You didn’t know who he was apologizing to. To you, to the women, he had killed, to himself, or to the man he killed when he began his endless cycle of murder.

“Satoru?” You tried for the first time, his name foreign on your tongue you felt his shaking stop, his wet lips breaths away from your skin that was revealed as he accidentally tugged on your robes.

“Stay,” He whispered into your neck, his breath hot against your skin as he moved around, shuffling so that he was off of your body, yet somehow he managed to bring you onto his lap, “I don’t care for a story,” He muttered as he looked up at you, “Sleep here tonight,” His large hands steadied themselves on your hips, gentle as you slowly nodded, his lips wet as they traced the skin near yours, soft and caring, a far cry from how you thought they’d be.

“But…” You were worried that he'd be tired of you by morning, realizing that you’re not what he bargained for, but the king shook his head, almost as if he could read your thoughts.

“I just want you to stay, nothing more,” He muttered against your skin, your fingers subconsciously rubbing his hair as he sighed contently at the feeling.

“Okay,” You muttered out, your lash fluttering against your cheek as you nodded, feeling his lips curl into a small smile as you relaxed into his hold, his arm doing all the work as they held you to his chest, cradling you to his body as if you were his only lifeline.

You knew that it was the king that was holding you as if you were his only support, that without you to hold at this moment he would sink into the floor below your bodies and disappear forever.

---

When morning came you felt a heavy arm wrap itself around your waist, and your eyes groggily opened as you felt little puffs of air hitting your neck, and you turned around to find the king fast asleep.

You moved away a bit, and felt his hand dip from your body, and didn’t see his eyes snap open to see you rising, your hair messed up, eyes groggy but still beautiful as he could only stare at the way the sun illuminated your soft skin.

“Mornin’,” He muttered, not used to waking up to a woman without feeling the ache of the night before, but the way you laughed softly at his tired state brought him back to reality.

“Good morning,” You replied, rubbing your eyes as you yawned, a gentle smile making its way up to your face as you watched him turn onto his back, his eyes still heavy from sleep as you giggled.

“I need some water,” You muttered and he cracked an eye open, getting ready to stand up until you pushed him back down, “I’ll be right back,” You corrected and he grumbled something out, blue eyes shutting anyways as sleep took a hold of the king once again.

You rubbed your eyes one last time before you stood up, groaning quietly as you stretched your legs, making note of the fact that you had never slept so comfortably before as you made your way to the door.

The hallways were lit with candles, and you quietly shut the door behind you as you tiptoed your way out, looking around to find two of the palace guards standing outside, already anticipating you from the way they instantly looked at your frame.

You had never seen them before, and while you were familiar with the guards that usually stood outside, these seemed more menacing than usual.

“Good morning,” You said sheepishly, trying to move past one of them when he blocked the way.

“Um,” You scratched your head, looking around to see if there was anybody familiar, “I’m sorry, but I need a pitcher of water for the king’s room if you’ll let me…” You went to outstep the guard but the second one now blocked your path.

You looked up at them in confusion, your lips pursed together as you laughed uncomfortably.

“May I leave, please?” You tried for another laugh, but their faces remained stoic.

You had never seen them before, and you doubted they knew you judging by the way their faces remained unchanged. Their swords were perched on their hips, and their gazes never altered.

“Come with us, miss,” The first guard said, his voice deep as he took a sudden grip on your elbow, rough as he pulled you away without letting you walk.

“W-wait, excuse me, I just need some water,'' You quickly explained but they said nothing as they led you down the hall, their face never changing as you tried to wrangle out of their tight grips.

“Sirs! Please!” They said nothing as you thrashed around, their hands only holding you with a more bruising force as you tried to break free, “I only need a pitcher, that’s all,” Your eyes were frantic, heart in your throat as you tried to think of anything you had done to warrant such behavior.

“They’re always so fuckin’ rowdy,” One of them muttered to the other, obvious displeasure on his face as his fingers tightened around your arm.

You tried to think of what he was referring to when your eyes widened in understanding.

“The king knows me!” You shouted, “He’s asked for me not to be killed!” You tried to explain but the guards only laughed, and you felt your chest fall as they led you down a passage you had never been through before.

“I’m Y/n!” you explained, but they had no idea who you were, “I’m a friend of the kings!” But you didn’t even know if the king would call you that. You told him stories to keep him entertained and you out of the execution chambers, but these guards snorted at your statement.

With their strength, they had practically lifted you off the ground, and no matter how much you kicked your legs and screamed for them to let you, they seemed intent on leading you to wherever you were headed.

A voice in the back of your head already knew where.

“Please!” You shouted, your eyes tearing up, “Ask the king, he knows me!” And one of the guards behind you decided that he had had enough of your shouting, and used his unused hand to slap it roughly over your mouth, muffling your screams.

Your breathing got shallower and rougher the more you tried to break free, and the darker the hallways got the more your body weakened, and you felt yourself grow limp in their holds as they stopped in front of an iron door.

One reached into his pockets as he brought out some keys, flipping through them until he found the right one. He jammed it in the hole and the door swung open, revealing the horror that you had guessed would be inside.

An array of gallows sat in the middle, the ground littered with dried blood as you screamed again.

“I-I’m his storyteller!” You explain hurriedly, but the guards don’t seem to mind as they bring you closer to the noose, “I tell the king stories!” That got one of the guards to laugh, and you whimpered as the noose came closer into view.

“Ask the king, p-please!” You cried out, tears wetting your eyes as your voice caught in the back of your throat, “I tell him stories! I’m a friend of his!”

It meant nothing to the guards as they heaved you up onto the wooden pedestal, grasping your hands behind your back as they tied it over and over with scratchy rope, their hands rough as they pushed you forward, wrapping some dirtied cloth around your mouth to silence your screams.

You felt your tears collect on the cloth, and you felt lightheaded as one of the men began securing the noose around your throat.

“Stand on the trapdoor,” One of the men gruffed out but you hurriedly shook your head, trying to tell them that you weren’t who they thought you to be.

Tired of your antics, the man shoved your forward, and you stumbled and your eyes widened as the noose tightened around your neck, your breath lodging itself in the little crevices of your lungs.

You watched as the men walked over to the front, their hands outstretched to pull the lever as they stopped when they heard a loud crash happen outside the door.

Three sets of eyes snapped to the iron working as it slammed open, revealing a panting king as he stared widely inside the room, wasting no time as guards poured in, the maids that usually came to collect you in the morning puffing out air as they sighed in relief, relieved to find you alive.

“What the fuck is happening?” Satoru shouted out, his eyes raging as he saw you atop the gallows, cheeks stained with tears, mouth covered, a noose around your neck as he felt his breathing momentarily stop, “Y/n?” His eyes widened in shock as he saw the noose around your neck, your cheeks glistening with tears as your screams were muffled.

His eyes snapped over to the two guards, their expressions comedic had they not been seconds away from killing you.

The king was quick in his movements as he rushed towards you, quick as he climbed the gallow, his slender fingers nimble as they worked the noose off of your neck, and then quick to tug down the tear-stained cloth that covered your mouth.

His eyes were feverish as they searched you, his hands on either side of your face as he checked for injuries.

“Are you,” His voice wavered for a second as you stared back up at him, both of your hearts pounding at the same pace as he tried to catch his breath, “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

All of the guards and servants watched in fascination as their ruthless king fell apart, his hands shaking as you smiled gently, shaking your head no to his hurried question.

“I,” Your throat was hoarse, and you realized what had led to this mess in the first place, “I just want some water,” You sheepishly admitted to Gojo’s frantic stare, and could see his resolve crack as he gave you a quick laugh, cradling your head gently as he led you out of the execution chambers and back into the forgiving bright light of the hallways.

---

The following night, the servants were extra careful as they prepared you for the king.

Their hands were more forgiving as they scrubbed the dirt off of your body, and their fingers kind as they slathered lotion upon your neck. Their smiles were caring as they rubbed rose petals across your wrists, and their words were hushed as though not to disturb you.

They could tell without asking questions that you weren’t how you usually were and didn’t doubt that going back into the king's chambers would be more nerve-wracking than ever.

The robes they had dressed you in were softer than usual, and they kept it low with the fragrance as though not to give you a headache after everything you had gone through in the past couple of hours.

“Y/n,” Nasreen gently shook your shoulders to wake you out of your trance, “It’s time to go.”

And so you silently followed her on the familiar path to his room, your head heavy with pain as she knocked once, and then twice on the door.

It swung open after a couple of seconds to reveal the king in a disheveled state, his hair in disarray, eyes darker than usual as he seized you up, opening the door a bit wider so that you could come inside.

It shut quickly behind you, and you didn’t have time to turn around to say goodbye to the old lady before the king, Satoru, had led you inside.

The air was heavy as the two of you refused to look the other in the eye, unsaid guilt present in your stances as you went to open your mouth.

“My king, if you’d so wish, I can contin-” You didn’t have any time to prepare for the way his body threw itself at yours, a heavyweight pushing itself into your chest until you were roughly backed into the wall, his hand the only thing saving your head from bumping harshly into it.

His lips were hungry, ravenous, as they searched yours. They were agile and quick, not giving you time to breathe as his hand cradled your jaw, tilting your head ever so carefully so that he could gain better access to you.

You felt your tongues and teeth clash with one another, and despite your inexperience, you tried to match his quick pace. Any logical reasoning flew out of your head as his soft lips traveled upward, kissing your cheek, your forehead, and anything he could to remind himself that you were alive.

Your eyes opened as you felt him move downwards, his mouth hot against the column of your throat as he nipped at the skin gently, his teeth somehow gentle in their way as though not to hurt the fragile skin.

He’d press chaste kisses anywhere he could, his hands secure on your waist as the king looked up at you, and for the first time since your arrangement, you saw real fear in his sapphire eyes.

“Thought I lost’ya,” He muttered into your skin, his hands grasping onto the fabric of your robes as he tried to tug them off, “Thought I fuckin’ lost’ya forever,” His voice shook with raw emotion as your hands flew to his hair, bringing him back up as his hands worked at the knots that secured your robes together.

“It’s gonna,” You sighed as the cool hair hit your naked skin, your nipples pebbling up as your cheeks heated up in embarrassment, “It’ll take a lot more to get rid of me, my king,” You tired fo a joke but the words died down on your tongue as he latched onto one of your breasts, his hands occupying the other one as he kneaded it.

“Don’t joke about that,” He murmured against you, your nipples glistening with spit as he detached himself from you, “Don’t ever wanna think about it,” He whispered, and your eyes fluttered shut as his slender fingers worked their way down to tracing the skin on your stomach, and you almost sealed as they traveled down dangerously to the apex of your thighs.

He fell to his knees, a true sight to behold as his hair ruffled, your hands clawing into his white locks as you weakly held him in place.

His tongue was hot as it licked at your skin, slow as it neared the area where you were sure was burning up and wasted no time as he slid a finger past your folds, into the slickness of your cunt, and you groaned audibly at the feeling.

It was much different from your fingers, and he was skilled as he added another, your eyes and teeth clenching at the stretch.

“Yer doin’ fuckin’ amazin’,” He muttered in awe at the way you sucked him in, at how wet his fingers became from just a couple of seconds fingering you, “Yer so fuckin’ tight - shit - h-haven't you ever been…” And he trailed off when you looked away in embarrassment, and his lips parted in understanding as you covered your mouth to silence your whines.

“Oh darlin’,” He muttered, moving away from your pussy as he came back up, pressing a quick kiss to your lips as your eyes watched his every move, “Have you never been touched before?” And even he seemed to forget that he only wanted virgins, yet you could weakly nod, your skin flushing as he hungrily looked at it.

He’s going to ruin you.

“Well you’re just fuckin’ drippin’,” He said thickly, showing you his fingers as you looked away in embarrassment, but he quietly cooed, sleeping his fingers down your mouth, your eyes widening as you close your lips around them, brows furrowing at the odd taste.

“Sweet as shit, darlin’, better than any of the honey they’ve been rubbin’ on ya,” He muttered, his fingers working quickly as they went in and out quickly, his other thumb rubbing your clit as your eyes rolled back at the heavenly feeling.

“T-toru,” You whined thrashing around in his hold, “F-fuck it feels s-so good,” You hiccupped, your voice weak as you could rarely phrase things together. It was a far cry from how you usually wear, but the man was slowly tearing you apart.

His eyes widened in admiration at how sweetly his name rolled off your tongue, his ministration quickening in pace as he pressed a gentle kiss to the inside of your thigh.

“You’re fuckin’ beautiful, you know that?” He muttered against your skin, his fingers wet with your nectar as you cried into your hand, “Prettiest thing I’ve ever seen,” You could feel the knot in your stomach tightening at his relentless movements.

“Ugh, Toru, please,” You cried out, your fat tears rolling down your cheek as you couldn’t contain your wanton moans anymore, “Fa-faster!” You were begging, your fingers curling into his hair as he grinned at your unraveling.

More quickly than not, you felt your vision go white, the not snapping as your climax came, the sweet orgasm washing over you as you almost went limp. Had his arms not been supporting you up, you would have crumbled. You could feel yourself spasm around his fingers, but he was slow as he pulled them away, his tongue flushing outwards as he licked them tentatively, moaning at how sweet your essence was as it coated his mouth.

He watched as you went to pull your robes over your body, naively thinking you were done, but Satoru pushed your hands back, shaking his head as his smile menacingly grew.

“I’m not done yet sweetheart,” He moved up as he kissed your lips, your release flooding your taste buds as his spit mixed with yours, and you moaned into his mouth, not used to such a euphoric feeling, “Gods, Y/n, I’m just gettin’ started.”

---

You woke up to your legs aching and throat hoarse from more than just crying.

Your eyes were blinded momentarily by the sun, but you felt a heavyweight stern across your chest, and you looked down to see Satoru’s long arm covering your bare breasts.

Your cheeks heated up as flashes of last night came to you, and suddenly you could barely think straight, shuffling around so much that it woke the very king up.

He was slow as he tried to remember where he was, but a flash of your hair and your awkward smile made him grin charmingly, his arm tightening around your waist as he pulled you deeper into the warmth of his chest.

“Did I wake you?” You asked quietly into his skin, causing him to shiver as the way your shy hand reached up to hold onto his naked hips, to hold him as if he were a staple into your lifeline.

“I was already awake,” he muttered into your cheek, kissing at the mark he had made the previous night, “You’re a beauty when you sleep,” He admitted and you duke your head deeper into his chest at his words.

“My king,” You blinked, swallowing thickly as you looked up at him, terrified to find a monster but instead finding a devoted man, his eyes deep as they stared back down, caring as his lips pursed at the title.

“Satoru,” he muttered, “Don’t call me king,” His fingers played with your hair, his white hair wild as you giggled softly.

“Alright, Satoru,” Your nose nudged at his bicep, “I have a confession to make.” You saw him glance down at you in momentary worry but your eyes twinkle in a playful, childish manner, and he grinned right back.

“I have no more stories to tell you,” You whispered, “They’re all done.”

Satoru said nothing for a couple of minutes as his soft breathing filled the air around you two, and your heart stopped for a second before he let out a loud laugh, joyful and juvenile as his eyes crinkled, his ars pulling you deeper into his body if possible as he littered your face with kisses, hugging you as though you were going to whisk away at any moment.

“I was wondering when you'd run out darlin',” He exclaimed, pressing a light kiss to your lips as he looked down at you adoringly, “Because it’s time I return that favor,” He moved your hair out of your face as he pressed another kiss to your forehead, “I doubt you’ve heard the wondrous story of the woman who somehow stole my heart."

inspired by a tiktok

imagine you and satoru had gotten into an argument. it's already been at least two hours since it—satoru has seemed to move on, but you're still mad and sensitive.

both of you are in bed by now. satoru watches some reality show on the tv while you mindlessly scrolled through tiktok with your back facing him. satoru sighs, then the tv is shut off. he turns to you and attempts to speak to you.

"goodnight, sweets," he chirps, sounding as positive as he could, hoping it would show that he's moved on and that he's okay with you. "i love you."

you don't respond, not because you didn't love him, but you still weren't in the mood to speak. he knew you loved him though, right?

"i love you," he repeats louder, waiting for you to return those three words. again, no response.

he puts his hand around your waist to steady himself as he tries to take a peek at your face with a smile. "hello? i love—"

"i love you! can you stop?!" you snap, shrugging him off you and furrowing your brows at him. although you finally said it, satoru looks anything but relieved and satisfied. the grin he wore to try and make things better faded, his face falling and his eyes softening.

you turned away from him once again and he followed suit, pulling the covers up to his cheeks. he mutters, although a little muffled, "not right now you don't."

it's quiet after. the way you snapped at him and the way his expression morphed into one of hurt and his comment made you feel extremely guilty. were you being petty and holding the argument over his head? you don't even remember what you had argued about.

you quit basking in your guilt and sigh, shutting off your phone and turning over to him. you think he's asleep, but his breathing hasn't evened out. propping yourself up on one arm, you peer over at his face. your hand is on his bicep, gently rubbing up and down. he pretends to be asleep, but you know he can hear you.

"i'm sorry, 'toru. that was really mean of me. i love you so much. we can talk tomorrow, 'kay?" you whisper, placing a lingering kiss to his cheek. you give him a few more pecks as well as another apology before laying down and wrapping your arm around his waist.

you kiss his shoulder blade as you spoon him, then feel his hand run over the one on his stomach. he turns over to face you, making sure your arm never leaves its place on him. you both stare at each other for a minute, apologies being exchanged in the silence and through your eyes. satoru kisses your forehead and you lean into him a little more. he leaves one last kiss on your lips and holds you a little tighter.

"i love you, meanie."

yikes…but also i love angst this is amazing ily

SOMETHING STUPID. gojo satoru

“i love you.”

he really needed you to understand what that meant but somehow the beam he got in result told him you were simply unaware of the true meaning of his words.

“awww i love you too goj—”

“no…” his voice turned deeper, the stern tone causing your brows to crease. “i fucking love you.”

all gojo got in response from you were multiple blinks while he felt the air between your bodies thicken. he tried to edge closer, a heavy ball dropping in his core as you stepped back.

“w-what are you talking about ?”

he despised the dumbness in your tone.

“what else do you think ?”

there was no way, but the mere glint in his eyes told you everything and it hit you like a brick; hands starting to shake as you dug your fingers in your side.

“you don’t mean it.”

how dare you ? gojo could only frown before clenching his jaw, lids screwing shut while he swallowed the big lump in his throat.

“o-of course i do.” his voice turning weak. “i just can’t let you go ahe—’’

“why the fuck are you doing this now ?” you shouted louder than expected; voice breaking as the image of the small flinch from gojo stayed imprinted on your mind — an image you were certain would stick in your brain and haunt you.

“y-you can’t… be serious.” you had to turn yourself away from him, eyes beginning to sting as your lips quivered. “i-it’s…” gulping down hard, “it’s my fucking wedding day !”

what was supposed to be a meaningful, memorable moment between you and your best friend before you walked down the aisle had turned into a devastating scene that you had never once contemplated.

“i…i know, but—’’ he sounded incredibly desperate; his hand reaching out to lightly touch you but the weight of his fingers on your shoulder suddenly seemed distasteful as you shrugged him off.

why were you treating him like this ?

“no gojo !”

it was frustratingly painful to face the sorrowful expression he had but deep down you both knew everything was ruined.

“you- you’ve- s-poiled it all…” your shaky words stung gojo as the realisation of everything began to sink in — tears becoming unstoppable and dripping down your face.

he hesitated but he couldn’t stand and watch, moving closer as you gave up from trying to stop him laying a hand on you and mind turning fuzzy as he embraced you.

the words that left that your mouth next were barely plausible but it seemed you were adamant on trying to make yourself believe it.

“i hate you.” it could hardly be heard but thinking about the situation more and more suddenly had you feeling a new rush of passion as you began to repeat it and get louder each time; shaping your hands into fists and thumping them against his chest.

gojo could only hold you tighter, letting his tears fall as he took all your hits.

“i’m sorry...” the small whisper forced your hands to slowly come to a halt, looking up at him with blurry vision and wincing as he carried on. “i-i’m sorry for loving you.”

send me a request !

oh this hurts

day 9283 of waiting for a drabble of reader dying and satoru is trying to bake treats that they used to make and breaking down when he just can't get it right i've been craving satoru angst sm

— angst (no comfort <3 ), character death (reader), satoru x reader (established rs), kinda proofread

satoru’s bottom lip trembles as he stares at the half-eaten cookie in his hand. too fucking salty, he thinks. first it was too much baking powder, then too much flour. somehow he burned the bottoms but not the top. now they’re too bitter. he has to spit it out in the trash and satoru glances at the salt and sugar right next to each other amongst the mess he’s made on the counter.

he slams the cookie down, spraying out crumbs to scatter onto the floor, and satoru heaves a large sigh as he leans against the wall. baking is hard, he’s never been a good cook. that was your expertise. he loved to come home to new pastries and desserts you were excited to show him, shoving brownies and cookies and tarts between his lips as soon as he was settled after work.

to say he misses you is the understatement of the century. satoru damns the tragedy that took you away, because now he’s pathetic. he’s stuck sitting alone on the floor, chest stuttering and teeth sunk into his lip, holding back tears because it’s so fucking hard to just make a cookie how you used to make it.

the frustration finally boils over. satoru buries his face in his palms, leaned forward against his knees. the tears are endless, streaming down his cheeks. he feels inadequate and defeated. it’s been three months since he started trying to bake, and a year after your death. satoru regrets not doing a number of things before you passed, but one of them is not learning to bake with you. maybe if he spent less time sneaking chocolate chips from the bag and focusing on your measurements, how much of this or that that you used to sprinkle in, it wouldn’t be taking him god damn forever to learn how to bake chocolate chip cookies. not just from scratch, but exactly how you used to do it.

it’s all bullshit. it’s unfair. you didn’t deserve to be ripped away so soon. satoru didn’t deserve to have you taken from him so soon, in the blink of an eye. you were supposed to still be here, squeezed between his arms and helping him laugh away his mistakes. if you were here, it wouldn’t hurt so much that he couldn’t get these cookies perfect. in fact, it wouldn’t hurt at all, because you’d be thumping him on the head before he poured too much salt. you’d be here to wrestle the chocolate chips from him because ‘he’s using them all’. you’d be here to guide his hand and show him how to do things.

but you’re not here. the knowledge of your recipes has died with you. he sniffs and he whimpers and he cries, but you won’t be coming to tell him it’s alright. satoru can only sit and stare at the complete disarray of the kitchen. all with nothing to show for it.

🍪: @anthoosies @staryukis @deepenthevoid @bubblez-blop @luvvmae @risuola @bunnymacaron @hellkaiserinphoenix @lxnarphase @cinnamoneve @satoruxsc @rosso-seta @angelina7890 @starlightanyaaa @domainexpansionmypants @neptuneblue @biscuitsngravie @babytoshiii @kissesfrombelle @v0ctin @purplegemadventures @luvvforliaa @apatauaia @sataraxia @leilalilox @sugu-love @manyno @the-monster-under-the-bed @kisstoru @blindbabycadder

a love unrequited

tw: angst

summary: you’re desperately in love with gojou satoru, but you’ll never let him know, because you’ll always be his best friend.

a/n: smthn quick idk i’m sorry for my inactivity

a disease that ate away at you slowly, your remnants crumbling into what could only be deciphered as a smile

“this is keiko.” his bare face exposed to the unfamiliar girl before you, blindfold nowhere to be found. a state of himself he only let those dear to his heart see. a state of himself that he let her see.

you watch as your best friend gently grasps the woman before him as if she were the sun — his eyes admiring her every movement.

oh, how you wish it was you with gojo satoru wrapped around your finger.

how you prayed to the deities above that some day, maybe, possibly, you had a chance to show satoru what true, real, burning love from you was like.

but alas, you couldn’t dare to step out of the boundary he so clearly marked for you: the best friend. you couldn’t destroy his happiness, his wishes, his dreams.

you could only fantasise a future of being mrs. gojo. nothing more.

please do not plagiarise my work or share it on any other social media platform, thank you :).

reposts are appreciated!

©️tora-ken 2024