A Weathered Heart

have difficulty reaching a book in the library? no worries, he got you. one hand on your lower back, and the other arm stretching up to grab the book and also to flex his gorgeous muscles right by your face. 

your mug missing from the teachers’ lounge? oh my, what evil person would place it on the highest shelf? do not fret, mister baby blue eyes is on the rescue! there are two ways satoru plays this: one, reaching it for you—blegh, boring. or he could lift you up the counter and let you reach for the mug yourself… with his hands on your waist, hmm.

the sky is the limit when it comes to satoru using his height to get you to fall in love with him. 

one thing he really likes, though? when you complain about your neck hurting every time you talk to him. boots! what an ego boost! the first time you said that to him, he spent the night giggling and rolling in his bed.

he can lean down, speak to you with his legs spread apart like he’s about to do a split, you know—be accommodating and meet you halfway. but.. why would he do that? why would he do that when he can have you looking up at him with stars in your eyes (there weren't any) and tiny hearts flying out to him? (again, there weren’t any)

“can you please bend down? my neck is starting to cramp.”

“bend down? i didn’t know you liked that.” satoru giggles, like a little boy, and takes the chance to pinch your cheek. that earns him a swat and a glare from you. naturally, he grins in response. 

“you’re so annoying.”

“i prefer the term affectionate.”

“bend down.”

he hums, cupping a hand to his ear. “i’m not hearing a please.” he knows he should stop. he’s pushing your buttons quite well, and you’re about to burst any minute now. that look in your eyes tells him that you’re two seconds away from violence. 

but he also knows that he loves it when you’re annoyed. a frown apparent in your face, brows furrowed, glare so intense that his six eyes cower away in fear—what is going on? why are you grabbing his collar? are you… are you about to kiss him?! good lord, satoru has been praying for times like this but never did he expect for the day to come sooner. 

his collar in your grasp, you pull. hard. 

his brain, a thing capable of processing infinite information, goes perfectly blank. he stumbles forward on instinct, one hand catching the wall beside your head, knees bending so fast it’s humiliating. suddenly he’s eye level with you, close enough to feel your breath, close enough to count your lashes if he wanted. 

you smile. 

not often. not wide. but enough.

and he swoons. he’s wonderstruck, red in the face. you’re so close—all his senses are being overridden by you. you’re so, so close. a little nudge of his head can easily result in a well-awaited true love’s kiss. he’s doing it, he’s leaning in, his nose is touching yours, his lips less than an inch away— 

“see?” you murmur. “that’s not hard to do.”

you pat his cheek twice and walk away. 

he stays there for a full five seconds, bent over, staring at nothing. 

then—

“suguru!” he shouts. “i think my wife just manhandled me!” he runs down the hall screaming, “she loves me! she loves me!”

suguru just sighs, feeling exasperated at the thought of reminding satoru that, no, you guys aren’t even dating yet.

⋆˚࿔ pairing: vet! gojo x anterograde amnesia!reader

⋆˚꩜｡ synopsis: you meet him for the first time every day. gojo satoru is loud, persistent, and entirely too determined to be part of your life, no matter how many times you forget him. and if you can’t remember him tomorrow, he’ll just make you fall in love with him all over again.

⋆˚࿔ content: memory loss and amnesia, emotional attachment under unusual circumstances, protective and controlling family dynamics, mild emotional manipulation (intentional or unintentional), fluff, humor, slight angst, eventual smut!

⋆˚｡⋆word count: 9.6k (idk what happened)

note: THANK YOU SMMMMMM FOR 500 FOLLOWERS!!!! IN CELEBRATION HERES MY FIRST GOJO FIC WHO CHEERED!🥹🥹🥹— inspired by the movie 50 first dates

join the gojo taglist here!

the cafe was buzzing, calm and uninteresting, all except the small booth in the corner, where eyes kept landing watching the couple sit through a dramatic breakup.

he sat across from a blonde girl, leaning back in his chairunbothered, like she didn’t matter one of his arm slung lazily over the backrest, the other tapping rhythmically against the table as if he were counting down to his escape.

“i wish i could stay,” he sighed, “but my pet llama just… doesn’t thrive here.”

the girl blinked, tears already forming in her eyes.

“your… llama?”

he nodded solemnly, like this was the most normal conversation in the world. “yeah... he felt the aura of california once. hasn’t been the same since.” he paused, observing her before he started again, voice dropping to sound serious like he was letting her in on something top secret.

“i think i have to leave earth. chase that feeling across the galaxy. for him.”

her hand flew to her mouth. “that’s so… selfless.”

he gave a small, almost regretful smile, tilting his head just enough for the light to catch in his eyes. “it’s not easy. but he needs me.”

she silently stared at him before she completed broke.

“when will you be back?” she asked, voice breaking as she sniffled.

he looked away, like the answer hurt him more than it would hurt her.

“i don’t know. maybe never.”

her lips trembled, eyes shining as she reached across the table, grabbing his hand like she could anchor him, like that would convince him to stay.

“i’ll miss you,” she whispered.

he squeezed her hand gently, thumb brushing over her knuckles in a way that felt intimate enough to be remembered if he wanted it to be.

“i know.”

she inhaled shakily, eyes shifting hazardous around his face like she was memorizing him in this exact moment.

“…i’ll miss you so much, holden tudix.”

satoru snorted, his head dropped forward, landing against the table with a soft thunk, shoulders shaking as he still held onto her hands.

“sorry—sorry,” he choked out between poorly hidden laughter, shaking his shoulders to look like he was crying and dragging in a breath like he was overwhelmed. “it’s just… a tough time. i’m just so proud of him, y’know?”

you might judge him for how he went about this but…she was going to cry regardless! why not make it interesting for himself in the meantime?

satoru lived a very carefree lifestyle. why not? (that's a question he asks a lot!) he has the money, the looks and the schedule flexible enough to accommodate him. he could do anything, with anyone, anywhere.

you couldn't say the same.

you woke up at 7:02 am everyday.

not 7:00, not 6:58, 7:02 on the dot every single day.

not that you knew it though.

the sunlight filtered in warm and soft against your face, the faint sound of clanking and voices already filling the house from downstairs.

you stretched, before getting up unknowingly going through the motions of a day already planned out for you.

and you didn’t even question it.

not even the way your clothes were already laid out, ironed, and at the end of your bed with your shoes underneath. not the way the hallway light was on, so you wouldn’t trip on the rug, not even the way the everything in the house seemed… ready for you.

“morning,” yuuji greeted the second you stepped into the kitchen, already halfway through eating, bright and easy like always.

“you’re up,” choso added, softer, setting a plate down in front of you before you could even think to ask.

it was like any morning, light conversation flowed over breakfast. yuuji said something dumb with his mouth full of food, choso chining in on the overexaggerated tales he was spinning with real facts as you listened with a smile, and sukuna correcting both of them with a scoff as much as he tried to act uninterested.

this was your life, comfortable and normal everyday. and after breakfast, you grabbed your bag.

“i’m heading out,” you said, slipping on your shoes.

“yaga's?” yuuji asked.

you nodded, smiling. “yeah. just for a bit. it's sunday!"

choso gave you a small nod as he began clearing the dishes. sukuna just hummed, already turning away like it wasn’t anything worth questioning.

the bell above the café door chimed softly as you stepped in, a familiar warmth wrapping around you instantly.

same smell coffee and sugar, the same low hum of conversation and the same soft light filtering in through the blinds of the windows, showing the dust swirling around the air perfectly like something almsot pretty.

you glanced around, instinctively searching for your usual spot.

“hey.”

his voice called out, being you back to the present as you landed at your usual booth.

a man was leaning back in his your chair like he owned the place, long legs stretched out, sunglasses pushed up into his hair, white strands falling messily into his face.

the way he watched you was too comfortable for a stranger.

and too familiar for someone you were sure you’d never seen before.

he tilted his head, smiling at you like he’s your friend.

“you’re late.”

you blinked. “…what?”

his grin widened, like he’d been waiting on banter with you.

“i’ve been waiting for you,” he dragged out, like it was obvious.

and for a second, you just looked at him.

then you turned, walking past him without another word, making your way to the furthest stool at the bar putting as much space between you and him as possible.

“hi, darlin’, here ya go.”

you glanced up as yaga set a menu down in front of you, his voice warm as he eyed you in your new spot.

“not your usual. you get lost?”

you smiled softly, shaking your head. “no… that guy took my seat.” you tilted your head back toward where the white-haired man sat, still watching you like the only entertaining thing in the room.

yaga followed your gesture, and the smile on his face slipped off for half a second.

“just a sec.”

he stalked over to the table and grabbed satoru by his collar, dragging the man, without much effort or resistance to the patio.

“didn’t i tell you to leave that girl alone?”

“yeah, but—”

“but nothing!” yaga snapped, releasing him with a sharp push. he dragged a hand down his face, exhaling before his eyes flicked back inside, landing on you just as you laughed at something yuki said while she poured your coffee.

his voice lowered, more serious now.

“she’s special.”

satoru followed his gaze, eyes settling on you, quieter now than he’d been before.

“…she is.”

his gaze lingered, something unreadable flickering behind it.

he remembered when he came in the day before, tuesday, just trying to pass the time and nurse the dull ache of a hangover that refused to let up.

he hadn’t planned on staying long. just a drink, maybe something greasy, then he’d be on his way.

he’d been slouched at the bar, sunglasses still on despite being indoors, lazily stirring his drink more out of boredom than anything else, half-listening to the quiet hum of the restaurant around him.

and then you walked in with a light bounce. it wasn’t dramatic really, no slow motion, no grand entrance, just the soft chime of the bell and you stepping inside like you’d done it a hundred times before. well because you had! but he didn't know that.

but something about you made him look up anyway.

you had this light to you. something calming and warm. like you carried your own kind of sunlight.

he watched as you greeted yaga and yuki with a smile that felt so genuine and breathtaking, before making your way over to a booth by the window, your booth, apparently sliding in with a small, content exhale like you belonged there.

like the world made sense in that exact spot.

and that should’ve been it.

he should’ve looked away. just finished his drink and left. maybe actually get to work on time for once.

but instead he found himself getting up.

wandering over like it wasn’t a decision at all, like his body had already made it for him.

“hey,” he said, dropping into the seat across from you like it was his.

you blinked, surprised but not alarmed, your fingers pausing where they hovered over the menu.

“…hi?”

up close, it was worse. you were prettier than he thought.

“you mind if i sit here?” he asked, already sitting and obviously already comfortable.

you glanced around briefly, like you were checking if anyone else noticed the strange man, before looking back at him. “i mean… i guess?”

he smiled, easy. “thanks. i was starting to think everyone here hated me.”

you huffed a small laugh at that, polite but amused, and something in his chest ticked.

“so,” he leaned forward slightly, resting his chin in his hand. “what are we getting today?”

we.

you blinked again, a little more confused now, but still playing along. “um… coffee?”

“bold choice,” he nodded seriously. “i was thinking the same.”

you smiled at him lightly.

and that was all it took.

conversation came easier after that. and somewhere between his ridiculous comments and your soft laughter, time passed without either of you really noticing.

he quickly learned the way you tilted your head when you were thinking. the way your fingers traced the rim of your cup absentmindedly when you listened to him. the way your smile came quicker the more comfortable you got.

it was… nice.

“you come here a lot?” he asked eventually, like he didn’t already know the answer.

“yeah,” you nodded. “i like it here.”

“same,” he said, like he doesn't come here once in a while.

there was a pause not awkward, just quiet. but comfortable.

yaga’s voice cut through it.

"hey!" yaga's fingers snapped in front of satoru's face where he zoned out. "earth to fucking satoru."

"but, why?" satoru scoffed his eyes flickereing to you again before dropping back to yaga.

“…why?”

yaga hesitated and then sighed.

“because she won’t remember you tomorrow.”

that made him look back. “what?”

“car accident,” yaga said. “year ago. she’s fine, physically. but anything new?” he shook his head while tapping the side fanning out his hand. “doesn’t stick.”

satoru frowned. “so she just… forgets everything?”

“every day resets.”

silence stretched between them.

“so if i sat with her again tomorrow…” satoru started slowly.

“she’d think you’re a stranger,” yaga finished.

“and you still think it’s a good idea to mess around with her?”

satoru didn’t answer, he just huffed and looked back through the glass again.

you were still smiling at something yuki said, completely at ease, like nothing in your world had shifted.

“…huh.”

“stay away from her,” yaga said again.

this time, it wasn’t a suggestion.

of course, would he be satoru if he didn't ignore yaga's warnings after the man walked away, not once but twice. to answer what we all know, no. no he would not.

he almost listened to the man and was going to walk away…but he could not get you out of his mind. he just had to take the chance.

so instead he tried something different.

he caught you just as you reached your car, keys already in your hand, the quiet jingle of them shifting between your fingers as you moved with that same steady purpose like you had somewhere to be, like you always did.

“hey.”

you paused. he noticed just the slightest tension in your shoulders before you turned to face him, eyes cautious already, scanning him quickly. there was no recognition in your expression just uncertainty, a quiet kind of wariness from earlier.

“…hi?”

he lifted a hand in an easy half-wave, like he wasn’t approaching you in a parking lot after you’d clearly avoided the fuck out of him earlier in the little restaurant. “you’re heading out already?” he asked, glancing toward your car.

you shifted your weight on your feet, grip tightening just slightly around your keys. “yeah.”

he nodded, rocking back on his heels as if to give you space even if he didn’t actually leave. “same,” he said, like that meant anything, like it filled the silence between you.

you didn’t respond this time. you just watched him, carefully, like you were trying to figure out what he wanted, or maybe if you should already be getting into your car.

he noticed, of course he did.

“i know this is gonna sound weird,” he started, one hand coming up to scratch lightly at the back of his neck, his tone shifting just enough to feel more grounded, less performative, “but i think i might’ve messed up back there.”

your brows pulled together slightly. “messed up?”

“yeah,” he let out a small breath, a quiet, self-aware laugh following it. “i came on kinda strong.”

“kinda?” you echoed, and there was the faintest hint of amusement in your voice now, slipping through before you could stop it.

his smile softened at that, less sharp than before. “okay, yeah. definitely.”

some of the tension eased from your posture, enough that he sighed a breath of relief.

“look,” he continued, a little more carefully now, like he was choosing his words instead of throwing them out just to see what would stick, “i just thought you seemed… nice.”

you blinked at that, caught a little off guard by how simple his explanation was.

“…okay,” you said slowly.

he shrugged lightly, hands slipping into his pockets. “so i figured i’d try again. properly this time.”

there was a brief pause as you glanced toward your car, then back at him, still unsure about his motive.

“…try what again?”

he tilted his head, that small smile returning, as he cleared his throat dramatically.

“hi,” he said, like it was the first time. “i’m satoru.”

you hesitated, just for a moment, before answering.

“…hi.” and that was all you said for your introduction, and for satoru, that was enough.

so he didn’t push it, he wanted you want to talk to him. he didn’t try to fill the silence with something ridiculous or over the top like he normally would. instead, he just nodded once, clasping his hands together like he’s already decided.

“you heading somewhere, or…” he glanced toward your car again, then back at you, a slight tilt to his head coming back, his fluffy white hair flopping on his head, “am i interrupting your very important schedule?”

you narrowed your eyes just a little, but there wasn’t much bite behind it. “i don’t have a very important schedule.”

“okay, so just a mildly important one,” he corrected easily.

you huffed softly. “i was just going home.”

he hummed, rocking back slightly on his heels like he was thinking. “that sounds boring.”

“…wow.”

“what?” he shrugged. “i mean, objectively. going home right now? middle of the day? no plans?”

you stared at him.

“…you don’t even know me. to judge me like that. ”

“i know enough,” he said.

you shifted again, eyes scruntizing him, keys still jingling in your hand, your gaze flickering briefly away before settling back on him.

“…and what exactly do you think you know?”

his mouth curved slightly, like he’d been waiting for that.

“that you said yes earlier.”

you blinked. “…to what?”

“to not being busy,” he reminded you.

you exhaled softly through your nose exasperated, already knowing where this was going.

“…and?”

“so come on,” he said, pushing off his heel, already stepping back like he expected you to follow. “i know a place.”

you didn’t move yet just tapping your foot, as you leaned on your truck.

“that’s not convincing,” you said flatly.

“it’s not supposed to be,” he shot back. “it’s mysterious.”

“it’s vague.”

“same thing.”

“…it’s not.”

you hesitated again.

because this, this wasn’t normal. following a stranger somewhere because he asked like it was nothing. because he was handsome and because smiled like it was harmless. because something about him made it feel like maybe it was.

your grip on your keys loosened slightly.

“…should i be concerned?” you asked, quieter now.

“probably.”

and for some reason that made you trust him more.

you rolled your eyes lightly, pushing off your car.

“if i get kidnapped, i’m blaming you.”

“that’s fair,” he nodded. “i’ll take responsibility.”

the park he took you too wasn’t far.

close enough that the noise of the street softened into something quieter, the air shifting just slightly as you stepped further in. there was a calm here that felt different from the restaurant, so calm and serene that you enjoyed.

eve here, you noticed things without meaning to.

the way the light filtered through the trees. the sound of leaves shifting with the breeze. a dog tugging too hard on its leash while its owner struggled to keep up.

“you always do that?” he asked.

you glanced at him. “do what?”

“look at everything like it’s new.”

you frowned slightly. “it is new.”

he held your gaze for a second longer than necessary, something unreadable flickering there before he looked away.

“…right.”

you reached a bench, sitting down with a small tired exhale as he dropped beside you a second later, stretching out like he’d always been there.

“so,” you said, turning slightly toward him, “do you usually invite random people to parks?”

“not usually.”

“so i’m special?” you asked, raising a brow.

he watched you, blue eyes glint like the water splashing in front you, “yeah.”

you stared at him for a second, like you were trying to figure out if he was joking.

“…you’re weird.”

“you keep saying that.”

“because you keep proving it.”

he laughed softly at that, something more genuine than before, and it settled into the space between you like it belonged there.

you didn’t notice how much time passed. didn’t notice how comfortable it felt, how the initial hesitation faded into something softer, easier to sit with.

you talked, and he listened intently for once. he talked and you listened enthusiastically like you really cared for what he had to say. sometimes about nothing, sometimes about things that almost mattered.

and when you finally stood, brushing your hands lightly against your clothes, there was that same pause again.

like yo we’re leaving something unfinished.

“…i’ll see you around?” he asked.

“…maybe.”

the next few days turned into something else entirely.

what started as a one-time attempt an awkward retry, a small correction became something he found himself looking forward to. not because it was easy, or predictable, or even successful every time, but because it was new in a way nothing else in his life had been.

every day, you met him for the first time.

and every day, he got another chance.

if he embarrassed himself, if something didn’t land, if you looked at him like he was strange or too much or just another random guy interrupting your morning, it didn’t matter. not really.

you wouldn’t remember.

there was no lingering awkwardness. no consequences that followed him into the next day. no version of you holding onto a bad impression.

just a reset. just another beginning.

and somewhere along the way, without meaning to, he stopped thinking of it as a loophole and started treating it like something else entirely.

an opportunity.

he wanted you to experience something new every day. something different. something worth remembering even if he knew you never would.

and to say he was starting to have fun with it would’ve been an understatement.

“excuse me,” he said, stopping at your table today with a piece of paper in his hand, looking entirely too serious. “i’m conducting a very important survey.”

you looked up, blinking. “…a survey?”

“yeah,” he nodded, already pulling out the chair across from you and sitting down like this was official. “it’s about life-altering decisions.”

“…okay…?”

he glanced down at the paper, then back at you. “would you rather fight one horse-sized duck or a hundred duck-sized horses?”

you stared at him, blankly.

“be honest,” he added, like this mattered.

“…i’m trying to drink my coffee.”

“this is important,” he insisted. “people have split friendships over this.”

you let out a small breath through your nose, clearly trying not to laugh.

“…the duck.”

his eyes lit up. “see? that’s what i’ve been saying—”

“but i don’t know you,” you cut in, pointing at him lightly. “so this is weird. you’re disturbing me.”

he blinked at you and then nodded slowly.

“…yeah,” he admitted. “fair.”

another day, he tried charm. actual charm.

“hi,” he said, sliding into the booth like he belonged there, offering you a small, almost normal smile. “i just wanted to say… you have a really nice laugh.”

you froze mid-sip of your drink. “…what?”

“yesterday,” he added smoothly.

you stared at him.

“i was sitting over there,” he gestured vaguely, not even trying to make it believable.

“…i wasn’t here yesterday,” you said flatly.

he paused just long enough to realize.

right, of course you didn't remember. he’s an idiot.

“okay,” he nodded. “new approach.”

the next, he brought props.

“this,” he said, setting a small, poorly drawn card in front of you with far more confidence than it deserved, “is a formal invitation.”

you looked down at it.

it was… terrible to say the least.

stick figures with uneven limbs. a lopsided sun shoved into the corner. something that might’ve been a heart if you squinted and gave him the benefit of the doubt.

“…what is this?”

“a date,” he said simply, like that explained everything.

you blinked, glancing back up at him. “…i don’t know you.”

“yet,” he corrected, already leaning back like he’d made a solid point.

you looked at him again, longer this time, then back at the card, like you were trying to understand how either of these things were real.

“…you drew this?”

“by hand,” he nodded. “took me hours.”

“that’s concerning.”

“i’m very dedicated.”

you huffed softly, the corner of your mouth twitching despite yourself as your fingers nudged the edge of the paper.

“…you’re weird.”

“i get that a lot,” he said easily.

you shook your head, but you didn’t push the card away.

“…what kind of date is this supposed to be?”

his eyes lit up, like he’d been waiting for that exact question.

“an excellent one,” he said, leaning forward slightly. “very exclusive. limited-time offer. only available to people who sit in this exact booth and order—” he glanced at your cup, “—coffee.”

“…that’s not exclusive.”

“it is if i say it is.”

you let out a quiet laugh, more obvious this time, shaking your head as you looked down at the card again.

“…and what happens if i say no?”

he tilted his head, considering.

“then i’ll be devastated,” he said, completely serious. “probably never recover.”

you glanced up at him, unimpressed. “…you’ll be fine.”

“…wow,” he pressed a hand lightly to his chest. “i never knew you had such a cold heart.”

“i don’t know you,” you echoed, but there was less resistance in it now.

“yet,” he said again, softer this time.

you exhaled through your nose, looking away for a second like you were thinking actually thinking before your gaze dropped back to the card in your hand.

you turned it slightly, thumb brushing over the messy lines like you were trying to make sense of them.

“…it’s really bad,” you said.

“i know,” he nodded.

“…but it’s kind of cute,” you admitted, quieter.

he smiled at that not wide, not teasing.

just… pleased, maybe with himself or maybe that he finally got another good day out of you, and he got to see that beautiful smile once again.

you didn’t look at him when you said it.

and you didn’t say yes. BUT you didn’t say no either.

and when you left you took the card with you. another day, another win!

today though, he didn’t expect this.

he’d only been a few minutes too late.

just late enough to catch you for a few minutes allowing him to see that beautiful smile grace your face, and after he paid for his coffee caught the tail end of you leaving, your figure slipping out the door as he pushed his way in, the bell chiming overhead a second too late to matter. he turned, instinctively, already moving to follow—

and then he was on the floor. it happened fast.

one second he was upright, the next he was being yanked back by the collar of his shirt, the force of it enough to throw him off balance completely.

“the fuck you want with my sister?”

satoru blinked up, momentarily stunned, a flash of pink hair and pure irritation towering over him.

“…well, that’s new.”

“sukuna!” choso’s voice cut in quickly, already moving toward them. “put him down!”

“not a chance,” sukuna snapped, grip tightening as he hauled satoru up like he weighed nothing. his expression didn’t shift, didn’t soften just sharp, controlled anger. “been watching you all week.”

and satoru didn’t struggle. mostly because he didn’t think it would help.

also because he was a little curious how far this would go.

“you’ve got a weird way of saying hello,” he muttered, brushing off his shirt as much as he could with sukuna still holding him.

“i’m not saying hello,” sukuna said flatly. “i’m telling you to stop.”

“not here,” choso added, quieter but firm, his hand coming up to rest briefly on sukuna’s arm. “please.”

sukuna’s jaw tightened, his eyes flicking briefly toward the door where you’d just left before he exhaled sharply.

“…fine.”

the drive was quiet. uncomfortably so.

satoru sat in the backseat like he’d been kidnapped which, technically, he had, one arm slung lazily over the side like he wasn’t taking it seriously, even if his eyes kept flicking between the three of them.

yuuji drove, while choso sat in the passenger seat, glancing back every now and then like he was trying to figure out how to start this.

sukuna sat beside satoru silently fuming. that alone said enough.

“so,” satoru broke the silence, tilting his head slightly, “do you guys do this to everyone who talks to her, or am i just special?”

“shut up,” sukuna said flatly.

“that’s not very welcoming.”

“i said shut up.”

“okay, okay.”

your house was quiet. too quiet.

the kind of quiet that felt intentional.

satoru barely had time to take it in before sukuna was already pushing him forward, guiding him inside like he knew exactly where he was going.

“sit.” and it wasn’t a suggestion.

satoru dropped onto the couch anyway, stretching out slightly like he was getting comfortable, even if his eyes were already scanning the space, taking everything in.

choso stayed standing, hands loosely clasped in front of him, while yuuji lingered near the doorway, unsure.

sukuna didn’t sit, he towered in front of him, arms crossed.

“stop coming here,” he said, voice low but final. “stop talking to her.”

satoru leaned back slightly, one arm draped over the back of the couch. “…you brought me all the way here to say that?”

“i brought you here so you’d listen.”

“i heard you just fine back there.”

“then hear it again.”

satoru straightened slightly, brushing at his sleeve like this was just another inconvenience, but his eyes stayed on him.

“…and if i don’t?”

“then we’re gonna have a different conversation.”

choso stepped in before it could go further, his tone softer, more measured. “we’re not trying to threaten you.”

“he is,” yuuji muttered from the side.

“i am,” sukuna confirmed.

choso ignored both of them, focusing on satoru instead. “we just… need you to understand something.”

satoru’s gaze shifted to him, choso seemed to be the only one with sense.

“you think this is harmless,” choso continued, carefully choosing his words. “you think it’s just talking. just… whatever this is.” he gestured vaguely. “but it’s not like that for her.”

“…i know,” satoru said.

sukuna scoffed immediately. “you don’t know shit.”

“she forgets,” satoru added, more firmly this time, eyes flicking between them. “every day.”

that made them pause.

“yaga told me,” he finished.

choso exhaled, some of the tightness leaving his shoulders. “then you really shouldn’t be doing this.”

“why?” satoru asked, “she’s fine. she’s not uncomfortable. she talks to me.”

“because she doesn’t get a choice,” sukuna snapped. “she doesn’t remember saying yes. she doesn’t remember you.”

“you get to walk away with everything,” choso said, quieter now. “every conversation. every moment. she doesn’t keep any of it.”

yuuji shifted awkwardly beside them, glancing between satoru and the ground. “…she asks about people sometimes,” he said, almost like he wasn’t sure if he should. “like… why things feel familiar when they shouldn’t.”

sukuna shot him a look. “not helping.”

“i’m just saying—”

“don’t.”

choso sighed softly, looking back at satoru. “we’re not saying you’re a bad person. we just…this doesn’t end well. not for her.”

satoru looked between them, “…she smiled,” he said, almost absently.

sukuna’s patience snapped a little at that. “that’s not the point.”

“i know,” satoru replied, just as quickly.

choso watched him for a moment, something softer in his expression now. “just… think about it, okay?”

sukuna wasn’t as generous.

“don’t come back,” he said again. “leave her alone.”

the tension in your house was palpable the second you finally stepped inside an hour later.

it wasn’t loud nothing was broken, no voices raised, but it sat heavy in the air, subtle and wrong in a way you couldn’t quite place. like walking into a room where something had already happened and you were the only one who didn’t know what.

yuuji was quiet.

that was the first thing you noticed.

he was usually the easiest to read, the quickest to smile, to talk but now he was sitting stiffly on the couch, eyes fixed somewhere ahead of him like he was trying too hard to look normal.

choso stood nearby, arms loosely folded, though his gaze drifted toward you the moment you stepped in, something thoughtful almost troubled lingering in his expression.

and sukuna, you could hear him outside, the low clink of metal against metal as he worked on his car, like nothing in the world had shifted at all.

you frowned slightly. “…what’s going on?”

both yuuji and choso straightened almost immediately.

“nothing!” yuuji said, just a little too quick, a smile snapping into place like he’d practiced it.

“everything’s fine,” choso added, softer, though his smile came a second slower.

you narrowed your eyes just a bit. “…okay.”

instead, you kicked your shoes off and made your way over, dropping onto the couch between them with a small exhale, settling in.

your gaze drifted to the tv.

“…oh, hockey?” you asked, tilting your head slightly as you leaned back.

“yeah,” yuuji said, relaxing just a little now that you weren’t asking questions anymore. “thought we’d put something on.”

you watched for a moment, eyes tracking the movement on the screen before something clicked.

“i wonder," you started, as if you hadn't watched this game everyday for the past year, "what’s gonna happen.”

“oh, i know this one,” yuuji said quickly.

you turned to him, interested. “really?”

“yeah,” he nodded, a little more confident now. “watch, he’s gonna miss.”

you blinked. “no way.”

“yeah, he does. completely whiffs it.”

“there’s no way he misses that,” you argued, already leaning forward again, eyes glued to the screen. “he’s right there!”

yuuji just shrugged, trying to play it off like a guess.

the front door slid open behind you, the sound of it almost lost under the noise of the game as sukuna stepped in, a beer already in his hand. he didn’t say anything at first, just took in the scene.

but his gaze lingered on you for half a second longer than necessary. then he moved, dropping into the seat beside you with a quiet exhale.

“what’re we watching?” he asked.

“hockey,” you said absently, not looking away from the screen. “yuuji says he’s gonna miss.”

sukuna’s grip tightened slightly around the bottle.

“…does he,” he muttered.

on the screen, the player wound up.

you leaned forward instinctively, anticipation building.

“see? there’s no way—”

he missed.

the room went sll and you just gasped, “oh my gosh!” you turned to yuuji immediately, eyes wide, a bright smile breaking across your face. “you guessed right!”

yuuji blinked.

“…yeah,” he said, a small, forced laugh slipping out as he rubbed the back of his neck. “just a guess.”

you shook your head, clearly impressed, already turning back to the screen like nothing strange had happened. “you’re like psychic, ji!”

choso and sukuna exchanged a quick glance over your head, both of them lingering on yuuji for a second longer than necessary. yuuji just stared straight ahead at the replay, trying to look as normal as possible while you kept talking, completely unaware.

“oh! and i got the pineapple so we can roast it!” you added brightly, sitting up a little.

sukuna hummed as he stood, reaching over to take it from your hands. he weighed it briefly, unimpressed. “it’s small,” he snorted. “with your tiny hands, that’s all you could grab.”

“hey!” you shot back immediately, pushing yourself up to follow him. “not all of us are testosterone fiends!”

he ignored you, already heading into the kitchen, grabbing another pineapple off the counter. “this is a pineapple,” he said flatly, lifting the larger one for comparison. “that’s a squirt.”

“you’re annoying,” you muttered, but there was no real heat behind it as you moved to the counter, starting to unpack your bag.

choso followed after you, quieter, leaning lightly against the counter as he watched you for a moment, that soft expression settling back onto his face.

“how was your day?” he asked gently.

“mmm, good,” you replied, a small smile lingering as you sorted through your things. “i made a friend.”

choso paused slightly at that. “…a friend?”

“mhm,” you nodded, thoughtful now, like you were trying to piece together something just out of reach. “he’s pretty cool.”

sukuna turned watching you be so happy, "you want to paint today?"

"yes! i should finish the garage. was a great day today!"

“i think i might go paint,” you added after a second, like the thought had just come to you, already turning toward the stairs.

“was a great day today!”

you disappeared upstairs before anyone could say anything else.

the kitchen fell quiet.

sukuna turned his head slightly, watching the space you’d just left through, something unreadable settling into his expression.

“…you want to paint today,” he repeated under his breath, more to himself than anyone else. you said that on good days…what the fuck was satoru doing to you?

you had disapperead into your little haven before any of your brother's could stop you.

you didn’t think about it too hard. you just picked up your brush and started.

no sketch, no outline, nothing to guide you except the quiet pull in your chest, something instinctive that made your fingers move before your mind could catch up. the bristles touched the canvas, and that was it. you were already in it.

color came first. soft, light strokes at the edges, something barely there like you were trying to build a shape without fully committing to it yet. then darker tones followed, more deliberate, filling in space you hadn’t even realized you were leaving open. your hand moved slowly at first, then steadier, more certain, like each stroke made the next one easier.

you didn’t know what you were painting. not really.

but it felt like you did. if someone came in right now and asked what you're making…you wouldn't be able to explain it but you felt it was right so you continued.

your brush dragged across the canvas in slow, deliberate strokes, filling in shapes you didn’t fully understand yet. light first. then shadow. then something in between.

and it felt familiar. that was the strange part.

like your hand already knew what it was doing before your mind could catch up. like this wasn’t the first time you’d painted this whatever this was.

you couldn’t explain it. couldn’t place why your chest felt just slightly tighter looking at it, why something about it made you linger a second longer than necessary.

it didn’t make sense. so you didn’t question it.

“DINNER.”

you startled slightly at the shout, blinking as the room seemed to come back into focus around you.

“COMING,” you called back automatically, setting your brush down without thinking, though your eyes flicked back to the canvas one last time before you left.

and following your usual routine, you started to pick up your bag when sukuna followed with you.

"ryo..? yuuji?" you asked as you turned to him as he twirled his keys in his hand. "where are you going?"

"with you."

"this is my tradition it's the third sunday."

"yeah, yeah whatever." sukuna murmured as he brushed past you, "fuck sunday. let's go."

“you hate driving me.”

“don’t flatter yourself.”

you narrowed your eyes at him, unconvinced, but you didn’t push it. the question lingered for a moment, then faded just as quickly, slipping out of your grasp before you could hold onto it.

what didn’t slip away, though, was the way he stayed.

he didn’t drop you off and leave… stayed sitting across from you while yuuji pushed in next to you.

you felt it more than you saw it at first that quiet presence behind you, steady, watchful in a way that didn’t quite make sense. sukuna leaned against the table with his arms crossed, like he had nowhere else to be, his gaze drifting but never too far.

you slid into your booth again like always, the familiarity of it settling around you as easily as it always did. same seat. same menu. same order.

same everything. but still you paused.

your fingers hovered slightly above your cup, your movements slowing like something had interrupted the rhythm you didn’t even realize you followed.

“…weird,” you murmured.

“what is?” yuuji asked from across from you, his voice light but his attention sharper than usual.

you blinked, the moment slipping the second you tried to hold onto it.

“…nothing,” you said, shaking your head lightly.

you smiled it off, just like you always did.

you weren't the only one that couldn't shake that uneasy feeling, you were just the one that had the benefit of not remembering. “fuck me.” satoru groaned as he spun in his office chair, dragging his hands down his face.

satoru stayed away. he tried to, at least.

he tried to go back to normal to the version of himself that didn’t think twice about leaving, about forgetting, about not caring. the one who could walk away from a conversation, from a person, from anything, really, without looking back twice.

easier said than done honestly, he came to find out.

it had always been easy before, way too easy.

he filled his time the same way he always had wandering, talking, slipping into conversations that didn’t mean anything and out of them just as quickly. he let people laugh at his jokes, let them lean in, let them think they knew him.

and then he left because it didn't feel the same.

he kepty unconciously comparing… judging them without meaning to. since there was something off about it.

kept waiting for someone to look at him the way you did curious, a little unsure, but open in a way that made everything feel just a little more real.

it didn’t happen. and it was getting annoying.

“…this is stupid,” he muttered under his breath one afternoon, kicking lightly at a loose pebble as he walked, hands shoved into his pockets.

nobody compared to you. he just couldn't take it.

it didn’t take long before he stopped pretending he wasn’t thinking about you.

he just… redirected it. poorly.

he found himself crouched in front of the glass tank at work, elbows resting on his knees as he stared at the seal drifting lazily through the water like it had all the answers.

“so,” he said, resting his chin in his hand, voice quieter than usual, “when did you know?”

the seal blinked at him.

“no, seriously,” he continued, gesturing slightly like this was a real conversation, “was it immediate? or did it just… happen?”

the seal rolled onto its side, floating without a care in the world.

“…great. thanks,” satoru sighed.

“you talking to animals again?”

“they’re better listeners than you,” he replied easily.

“yeah, well, they also smell like fish.”

that got him to glance over, just in time to see Suguru Geto step into the room, two small girls clinging to either side of him, both peeking curiously around his legs.

satoru raised a brow. “you brought guests.”

“i have daughters,” suguru replied easily. “they exist.”

one of the girls wrinkled her nose, tugging slightly on suguru’s sleeve. “it smells weird in here.”

“because he works here,” suguru said, nodding toward satoru.

“wow,” satoru muttered. “betrayed in front of children.”

“you deserve it,” suguru said lightly, though there was a hint of amusement in his tone as he guided the girls a little further inside. they wandered off toward the glass, already distracted by the movement of the water.

for a moment, neither of them said anything.

“so what’s actually going on?”

satoru leaned back slightly, exhaling through his nose as he dragged a hand through his hair. “…i think i’m in love.”

there was a pause.

“…you think?” suguru echoed.

“don’t start.”

“with who?”

satoru hesitated, just briefly. his eyes flicked back to the tank, watching the seal drift in slow circles, like it had all the time in the world.

and then he just exploded, words flew out his mouth as he told suguru how wonderful you were, how wonderful your dates were but that you couldn't remember them. that you couldn't remember him.

“…that’s rough,” he said finally.

“yeah,” satoru replied, quieter.

“she know?”

he huffed a soft, humorless laugh. “no.”

“you tell her?”

“i can’t.”

suguru exhaled slowly, folding his arms. “so what, you’re just… staying away?”

“that’s the plan.”

“…and how’s that going for you?”

satoru didn’t answer right away. because they both already knew.

he looked back at the tank again, watching the seal glide past the glass like nothing in the world could touch it.

“…terribly,” he admitted.

suguru hummed softly, not surprised. “then why are you still doing it?”

satoru’s jaw tightened slightly.

his gaze dropped, just for a second, before lifting again.

“because it’s better for her.”

satoru said that but honestly he wasn't so sure about his statement. and your brothers were also starting to question if this what was best for you too.

back at home, the canvases began to multiply.

one became two, then three, then more than you bothered counting. different attempts, different angles, but always the same subject, whether you realized it or not.

choso noticed first.

he stood in the doorway, quiet, watching as you added another layer of paint, your focus completely absorbed in the shape forming beneath your brush.

“…you’ve been painting a lot,” he said gently.

“mhm,” you hummed, not looking away. “i like it.”

he stepped closer, his gaze drifting over the other canvases scattered around the room. they were all the same, in a way that made his chest tighten.

"who is it?” he asked softly.

you paused, just slightly, before leaning back to look at it again.

“…i don’t know.”

your voice was thoughtful, almost distant.

“…i just feel like i should.”

even yuuji noticed it. you were both in the living room though neither of you were really watching it.

“…ji?”

“yeah?” he glanced over.

you hesitated, fingers fidgeting lightly.

“…i feel like i forgot something important.”

his expression shifted almost immediately.

“…what do you mean?”

you shook your head, frustrated. “i don’t know. it’s just—” you exhaled softly, pressing your fingers lightly to your temple. “it feels like there’s something i’m supposed to remember.”

yuuji didn’t know what to say.

“…maybe it’ll come back,” he offered gently.

you nodded, "hopefully."but it was getting even more confusing when you found your journal full of little notes of the same day over and over, it's a day you can't remember.

met someone today.

his name is satoru.

he’s annoying.

he’s funny.

he makes me laugh.

your breath caught as you turned the page.

we went to the park today. and he said i notice things too much.

the beach.

he lied about the water being warm.

your fingers trembled slightly as you flipped again, a sketch rough, but unmistakable.

him.

clearer than anything you’d painted upstairs.

your hand hovered over it, tracing the lines slowly as something in your chest tightened, then softened, then clicked into place.

“satoru.”

he came back that same day.

the walk up to your house felt longer than it should have, each step slower than the last, like if he thought about it too much he might turn around. the door was already unlocked he noticed that immediately but still, he hesitated, standing just inside the doorway like he wasn’t sure if he should be there at all, like something invisible was stopping him from going any further.

“…you’ve got nerve.”

sukuna saw him first. of course he did.

the shift in the room was instant, tension snapping into place so sharply it almost felt physical. sukuna straightened where he stood, his expression already dark, already set.

“…i just want to talk to her.”

“no.”

“sukuna.”

choso’s voice cut in, quieter but enough to interrupt before anything could escalate further. he stepped forward slightly, placing himself just enough between them to soften the edge of it.

sukuna exhaled sharply, jaw tightening as his gaze flicked toward the stairs and then back to satoru. for a moment, it looked like he might actually throw him out.

instead, he stepped aside just slightly.

they stayed in the living room. no one moved to sit, and the air felt heavier than it should have, quieter in a way that made everything seem louder—the shift of weight, the breath between words, the way yuuji hovered uncertainly near the doorway.

satoru didn’t waste time.

“…why didn’t you tell her?” he asked, his voice lower now but steady. “about her memory.”

sukuna let out a short, humorless laugh.

“you don’t think we tried that, fuck face?”

the words landed hard, but satoru didn’t react. didn’t rise to it.

“…then why stop?”

this time, choso answered.

“because it breaks her,” he said softly, his gaze drifting slightly like he was seeing something he didn’t want to remember. “the first time we told her, she didn’t believe us. we had to explain it over and over, show her, make her understand.”

his voice lowered further. “she kept asking how long it had been. how many days she’d lost.”

sukuna looked away and yuuji shifted, quieter now than satoru had ever heard him. “she thought something was wrong with her. like she was broken.”

the room fell still.

“…she cried herself to sleep,” choso added.

“every time,” sukuna muttered under his breath.

satoru’s chest tightened at that, something heavy settling there as the weight of it sank in.

“and the next morning,” yuuji continued softly, “she wakes up and doesn’t remember any of it.”

silence stretched between them, thick and unavoidable.

“so yeah,” sukuna said finally, his eyes sharp again as they landed on satoru, “we stopped telling her. because at least like this, she’s happy."

satoru didn’t have an answer for that. because there wasn’t one.

that's what everyone wanted. they wanted you to be happy, and satoru he just wanted to see you smile.

“…satoru?”

all of them froze.

you stood at the bottom of the stairs, one hand resting lightly against the railing, your gaze fixed on him in a way that didn’t make sense.

not confusion. not hesitation.

finally, in recognition.

his head snapped up, something like disbelief flickering across his face as he looked at you.

“…you—”

you stepped closer, slow but certain, your eyes searching his like you were trying to confirm something you already felt.

“…i remember you,” you said quietly.

his breath caught, the words hitting harder than anything else had.

and for the first time, satoru didn’t know what to say.

you reached for him without thinking, your fingers brushing against his sleeve, grounding yourself in something real, something steady.

“come with me.”

he blinked, caught off guard. “…what?”

you didn’t explain. didn’t slow down. you just pulled him with you, past your brothers, up the stairs, into your room.

the canvases were still scattered everywhere, the same half-finished faces watching from every corner.

you didn’t look at them yet, instead you turned around to speak to the man and paused when he held up his hand.

“wait,” he said suddenly, something urgent slipping into his voice. “before—before you say anything.”

he pulled his phone out, movements quick but not rushed, like this mattered more than anything else he’d done.

“i made something,” he added, softer now. “for you.”

you frowned slightly, but you didn’t pull away.

he pressed play.

the video started simply just him, sitting a little too close to the camera, like he hadn’t figured out how to frame it properly.

“hi,” he said, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it. “if you’re watching this, it means you forgot me again.”

you stilled. “…again?”

he smiled faintly, like he expected that reaction.

“that’s okay,” he continued. “it happens every day.”

the video shifted then, clips replacing the still frame small moments, scattered but clear. you, laughing in the café. walking beside him in the park. standing at the beach, squinting at the water.

“it’s cold,” your voice echoed faintly.

“you’ll get used to it,” his answered.

“you’re lying.”

your breath caught as the clips continued, each one building on the last, each one showing something you couldn’t remember but somehow felt.

“my name is satoru,” his voice said softly over it. “and i meet you every day.”

your fingers tightened slightly around his sleeve.

“you don’t remember me,” he continued, “but… you always like me anyway.”

the video slowed, softened.

“so i figured maybe i could give you something to remember me by.”

the screen flickered slightly before going still again, the room quiet in a way that felt too big, too full.

you didn’t move at first.

and then your shoulders shook, a breath catching in your chest as tears blurred your vision.

“…you idiot,” you whispered, your voice breaking.

you turned to him quickly then, closing the space between you in two steps, your hand finding his again.

“i wrote about you,” you said softly, your fingers still brushing like you were afraid he might disappear if you let go. “every day. over and over.”

your voice wavered just slightly before you looked up at him, something steadier settling into your expression, something certain.

“satoru… i want to go back to the beach.”

he didn’t hesitate. he never really did when it came to you.

“okay,” he said, just as soft. “let’s go.”

—

the beach looked the same open, and endless, the sound of the waves rolling in and out like nothing had changed, like time hadn’t passed at all.

but it felt different.

you stepped onto the sand slowly at first, like you were grounding yourself in it, your fingers brushing lightly against the fabric of your dress as the wind caught it just slightly, lifting the hem. the water rushed up to your ankles and you laughed immediately, the sound light and easy as you pulled your dress up instinctively to keep it dry, stepping back just a little.

“it’s still cold,” you said, glancing back at him, eyes bright.

he huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “told you you’d get used to it.”

you narrowed your eyes at him, but the smile didn’t leave your face. “…you’re still lying.”

“a little.”

you lingered there for another second, letting the water brush against your feet again before turning and running back toward him, dropping into the sand beside him like it was second nature, like you’d done it a hundred times before. maybe you had.

you tucked your legs in, smoothing your dress absently, your smile still lingering as you looked out at the horizon, the wind soft against your skin. he didn’t look at the water, didn’t look at anything else just you, like you were the only thing that mattered in the moment.

“you knew i’d like it here,” you said after a while, your voice quieter now, softer.

“yeah,” he answered just as gently.

“i don’t remember everything,” you continued, your voice steady even as your fingers curled slightly into the sand beside you, grounding yourself. “not the way you do. i don’t remember the days or the conversations or… any of it the way i’m supposed to.”

you paused briefly, searching for the right words before continuing.

“but i remember how you make me feel,” you said, softer now, more certain. “and i think… that’s enough.”

he exhaled slowly, something warm and real settling into his expression as he looked at you, something that had been building for far longer than either of you could measure.

“yeah,” he murmured. “it is.”

the quiet that followed wasn’t empty it was full, steady, something that didn’t need to be filled with words. the sound of the waves wrapped around you, the wind soft against your skin, the space between you smaller than it had ever been.

you smiled at him then, small but real, familiar in a way that didn’t need memory to exist.

and before either of you could overthink it, he leaned in, his hand lifting gently to brush against your cheek, warm and careful, like he was still giving you the choice.

and when he kissed you, it was soft at first, hesitant in a way that didn’t match him at all, like he was still asking, still making sure. but you answered without hesitation, your hand finding his sleeve, holding onto him like you’d done it before, like it was natural.

like it wasn’t the first time. like it wouldn’t be the last.

when you pulled away, your forehead resting lightly against his, you let out a small breath of a laugh, your eyes still closed for just a second longer.

“…you’re still weird,” you murmured.

he smiled softly, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek.

“yeah,” he said quietly. “but you like me anyway.”

you just leaned closer again, your lips brushing his own before you fully pressed your weight to his side smashing your lips together.

satoru let out the softest sigh as he leaned down and pushed you gently onto the blanket beneath you two. your hands found his hair as he deepened the kiss, a sharp inhale escaping you when his free hands pulled down the straps of your dress.

“this, okay?”

you hummed as he freed you from your dress, leavig you bare underneath him as he pulled off his shirt. thankfully the air you chose was secluded by the rocks surrounding you, the sounds of the waves crashing filling your ears as he reached to kiss you again.

this time it was eager and much more desperate as his hand glided slowly in feather like touches as if he was trying mesmerize you and your curves.

your whimpers rang out when his finger pressed on your clit, rubbing the sensitive bud between his two fingers. you could feel the smile on his face when his nose brushed up against the column of your neck leaving a quick kiss at your pulse.

you felt his long finger push into you slowly as you grasped at his hair, arching up as he slowly thrusted before he added a second finger curling upwards and brushy that spongy spot that had you clenching hard in his fingers. and as if he could sense your impeding orgasm he pulled away completely watching you writhe underneath him.

popping his fingers in his mouth he grinned, “think you’re ready for me now.”

he pulled down his shorts just enough that his dick popped out hitting his stomach, red, angry and hard. you watched mouth watering as he positioned right above you again, lining up with you.

your hands grabbed at his neck pulling him down for a kiss just as he started to push in, you let a broken moan in his mouth as he bottomed out after slowly pushing in while he kissed on your face.

his lips were not leaving your skin, as he kissed your lips in pecks, your cheeks and jaw before his tongue followed licking lines down your neck.

you shivered when you felt his teeth graze your collarbone before biting down, his tongue following quickly to soothe you as his thrusts got harsher, his tip hitting that spongy spot inside you again, his head lolling to the side from the hard clench you gave around his cock.

it wasn’t long before you started to feel your impeding orgasm creep up on you, still sensitive from not getting the your earlier one as your head rolled back, your toes clenching in the sand as you grasped on his shoulders your nails digging in.

and he followed not too far after gasping as he pulled out from you his dick landing on your stomach pusling and twitching as he came on you. he came down from his high watching you breath deeply before he took his short to clean you off.

he fixed your dress up before cuddling up against you again watching the sun slowly start to set.

“satoru,” you murmured. he hummed his hand brushing your cheek as he watched your slightly concerned expression.

“i’m not going to remember this tomorrow.” you started, turning to him, “are you really okay with that?”

he watched your weary expression as he pretended to think for a moment before turning to you with a lovely smile. “of course.”

“another day to make you fall in love with again.”

yorikae

tags 🏷️: @winkii @yoonsucks @sxviyna

officially crushing szn... or something like that.

sharing earbuds/playlists - one realizes that the song they introduced the other to is on their regular playlist

holding the other's hand to guide them somewhere, realizing how perfectly they fit together

the hesitant pinky reach before they hold hands for the first time, neither daring to make eye contact

small, reassuring touches under tables, even when they're not yet together

one nervously rambles while the other simply observes, finding it endearing

biting their lip (hard) to resist smiling at the other and/or their antics

subtle acknowledgement in group settings - a slight eyebrow raise, nod, and always looking at the other to find them already watching

one smiles while looking at a candid photo they took of the other

^ the subject of said photo catching them do it

the creation of inside jokes!

the small pang of excitement when one makes the other laugh

sitting to watch a movie together, but (un)subtly watching each other instead

blush rising to their cheeks at any mention of the other and their blatant attraction to them

There's just something so... icky? Seeing people in the fandom where there's literally so many talented people you commission art and animations from and they just end up using ai instead like...