What’s it like to fall for someone who isn’t afraid of death?
Existentialism x fluff x Gojo tries to make you swoon 🍯🦋
An Unexpected Chance x Gojo Satoru
Gojo tries to make moves on you
fluff + 1 tbps crack
Gojo asks for kisses??
Playing with Fire
I feel like this is self-explanatory 🤡
Yours - Fushiguro Megumi x Reader
fluff, pining
long-term relationship x fushiguro
soft fushiguro 🥺
Sweet Nothings - Fushiguro Megumi x Reader
What sweet nothings do you and Megumi like to exchange?
cutie pillow talk
soft hours
The Man Who Has Everything - Gojo Satoru x Reader (ONGOING ✨)
Gojo Satoru is good-looking, all powerful and beyond good at his job. Everyone thinks Gojo Satoru has it all, except you. Having broken off your engagement for an arranged marriage with him after graduating Jujutsu Tech, your relationship is in shreds. Can you eventually find peace in each other?
Genre: ANGST AND PINING, exes to friends to ??, commitment issues lol
New Beginnings || A Little In Love || Yours Truly || Sunset Drives || Knee Deep in Longing || Yes, Always || Brimming with Hope || Fated || Home ||
Millionaire Detective
Thankful - Kato Haru x Reader
domestic fluff
Kato feels insecure 😤
You reassure Kato about your feelings for him
Bunguo Stray Dogs
Tonight - Chuuya Nakahara x Reader
Chuuya is always angsty
Chuuya is bad at feelings
Chuuya likes to cuddle 👀
The Human Cost - Chuuya Nakahara x Reader
What do you trade for a life you want to live?
Angst, angst more angst
Shokugeki no Souma
Sweets - Isshiki x Nene
Arranged marriage trope let’s goooo
How can Isshiki and Nene fix their relationship and make peace with their past?
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Summary: What do you do when you feel like you’ve fallen for someone you shouldn’t?
Gojo Satoru x reader
Multi-fandom Masterlist || HQ Masterlist || Ao3 version
Genre: fluff, angst, exes to friends to lovers
“Do you have feelings for me? I need to know.”
Gojo is so stunned that he rubs his eyes in disbelief. Why on earth were you asking this at 2 am on a weekday?
“Why?” he blurts out.
Gojo barely pushes himself up with his elbow while in bed. The room is still brightly lit by the fluorescent lights neither of you remembered to shut off before you dozed off.
You’re sitting on the bed with your knees hugged to your chest. Your expression is somewhat absent. Gojo senses this even in his mild stupor.
“Why would you ask this now?” he yawns, repeating himself and still avoiding your questions.
“My family is trying to set up an arranged marriage and I kind of just want to know before I make any decisions.” you quietly murmur under your breath.
His ear perks up and he manages to sit more attentively.
“To be clear, marriage is a different ball game from having feelings, if you’re trying to propose…” he replies.
You snap at him at the corner of your eye. “I’m not. I just want to know.”
—————————————————————————————————
“Can I come home with you tonight?”
You can’t remember when it started or how. At some point it became a regular occurrence that Gojo Satoru asks to sleep beside you. Sometimes he asks for a little bit more, but more often than not he is content to just be in the same bed.
He loves nothing more than for you to run your fingers through his hair and down the back of his head. It inexplicably soothes him when you rub his back. It’s like nothing else.
He always enjoys company and affection, though neither of you ever own up to it. The arrangement is silent and mutual which both of you like.
“Sure.” you easily reply.
Neither of you really speak about it outside of the times you are together. The most you do is arrange dinner plans and share a room for the night. You like it when he nuzzles his face on the space between your shoulder and neck while he drapes his arm around your waist. Somehow you both just fit.
The first sign—but this was more than just companionship and physical intimacy—was what you dubbed to as the Photobooth Incident.
On a lazy Tuesday after work, you both drop by the train station for some errands. You’ve just finished an assignment together and have some free time before you need to write up some reports.
“Let’s go take a photo to attach to the paperwork,” he teases, dragging you by the wrist.
The booth is so narrow you could feel his chest on the blade of your shoulder. There is of course still enough space for you to be apart, but that was really no fun.
You both smile. The first shot clicks.
You hold up peace signs. The second shot goes.
Gojo kisses you on the side of your forehead. As the camera clicks a third time, you tenderly look at him. You don’t even notice the last shot happens.
“What are you doing?” you ask in shock when the situation sinks in.
He coolly collects the photos and briefly inspect them before putting them into his wallet.
“I want to know what you look like when you’re looking at me so I can be reminded of what you look like when you’re not here with me.” he says grinning with his usual mischievous glint in his eye.
Your eyes are wide and searching, dumbfounded by his behavior.
“Do you want the photo gone? I can get rid of it, if you like.” he volunteers apologetically, “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“I just don’t want to see it or hear about it.” you remark, avoiding his eyes.
Deep inside you were reeling. You’ve been trying so hard to protect yourself from his charms. Because you knew that once you fell, it would be hellish to crawl out. And here he is, surprising you with kisses. You hated that he would pull stunts like this. It made your situationship more than what it was.
“Will you still come home with me tonight?” He asks timidly, “I haven’t seen you all week.”
You snap back to reality and brush things off, “Sure, we can spend the night together.”
It was then he started noticing the way he was slipping too.
You briefly recall that one time you went to the convenience store. While you were picking out some drinks, he looked longingly from the outside when he thought you weren’t watching. His expression was soft and his eyes dreamy. Gojo liked to go about smirking or looking indifferent. Seeing him that way, you are not sure how to feel.
You secretly glanced at him again. Maybe he just needed to feel like you were falling for him too.
—————————————————————————————
“You’re the only photo in my wallet. I know you look when you think I’m asleep.”
You’re not embarrassed that he noticed. It almost makes you smile that he intentionally keeps the photo in, despite you knowing.
“Satoru, I need to hear it straight from you.” You softly plead.
He turns his head the other way, uneasy and awkwardly.
“...I think I’ve fallen for you.” as he says those words, his hand reaches out to touch your face. His hand gently caresses your cheek and pulls you back down to his side.
Your face is so close to him, you can see every detail of his visage.
“I’m at a point where I will take every word you say as gospel.” you murmur, “Don’t lie to me, ok?”
Your reflexes extend an arm over his body and lay your head beside his collarbone.
“I am truly so in love with you.” He enunciates each word in a whisper, with more force this time.
Neither of you mention the realities you both face. You both know that this relationship is not going to last and that the future is dangerously unpredictable for sorcerers like you.
“Don’t be stupid, Gojo.” you say in a faint attempt to take back his words. Warm tears start to slide down your face, “We shouldn't .”
“I’m not as intelligent as people give me credit for.” he shrugs.
“You can get married to someone else if you need to, if that’s something you’re concerned about.” he says kindly. He was never the commitment type anyway.
His hands run up and down your body, drawing you closer to him. Your eyes start to flicker as he soothes you.
“It’s not about that…I can’t be with someone else, knowing that you want me like this. I don’t even care if you’re with other people. I want to see you when I can...which is basically whenever I’m free.’
He shifts his entire body to face you. His warmth emanates off his body. You intertwine your finger with his.
“So what now?” he asks.
“I just want to sleep beside you.” you yawn, “Leave everything else for the morning.”
He nods and draws the blanket on the both of you.
Neither of you think about the price you’ll have to pay, when you inevitably hit the brakes too little too late. You don’t really care. You’re not afraid of death or hurt when Gojo Satoru is on your side.
Summary: After a shotgun marriage with Gojo Satoru, what does life look like for the two of you?
Gojo Satoru x reader
Multi-fandom Masterlist || HQ Masterlist || Ao3 version
Genre: fluff, angst, exes to friends to lovers
“You’re home tonight.”
Gojo Satoru is not one to be back in his ancestral home often. But after you married and your son came along, he’s been coming back more.
“I wanted to see you, even if it’s just for a few hours.” he replies.
Your marriage to Gojo was a mixed bag. It was equal parts a love match, a marriage of convenience (because if you hadn’t married, you and your son would be clanless), and an arranged marriage of sorts.
Deep down you know that Gojo is not the commitment type. You can’t help feeling guilty that you’re taking up his time even if he is officially your husband.
“Is the baby asleep?” he quietly, but eagerly peaks into the bedroom the three of you share.
Before your son was born, he never imagined himself to be back, much less sharing a room in his old home with the tatami mats and sliding screen doors with you. Your relationship with Gojo has never been easy. You were arranged to be married when you were kids and you stopped talking as teenagers. He’d openly flirt and be with other people. It hurt you of course, but it was difficult to blame him. Marriage was too big of a responsibility for most high schoolers.
But something changed 10 years after you broke your engagement. You started mending your relationship and experimenting with intimacy. Shortly after, you found out you were expecting. Maybe the old arrangement was more than just an obligation after all.
“Yeah, he’ll be up early though so you can play with him then.” You pull out some fresh clothes for him to change into from a large wooden chest in the antechamber of your room.
You turn away so he can change in peace.
“Do you ever feel forced to come home? Y’know, out of obligation?” you murmur curiously.
He looks up thoughtfully, “Sometimes, I do. But I never regret it when I’m actually here. I like being away because it helps me focus with work and it frankly keeps the two of you in less danger, but I want to be home more. Do you not like it when I’m here?”
“I do…” you nod, “I just wouldn’t be surprised if the novelty of having a family wore out. I don’t know. Maybe for the longest time, I’ve resigned myself that this was going to be one-sided. That if I loved you, it would be enough.”
His brow furrows and he frowns, “That’s not true. I would go through all this for you again and again. Truly.”
“And I know I’m missing out.” he adds wistfully. “He’s growing up so fast and I can’t catch any of it. I think of you both everyday and how much is happening in your lives without me.”
His confession catches you off guard. You feel deeply touched that your family has become part of his larger priorities despite all your initial apprehensions.
“I was just thinking the other day. It’s cool isn’t it? We have proof that we’ve been together. Our baby is a reminder of how important you are in my life.” he chuckles, “And I want him to be like you.”
You snort, crossing your arms “I thought you were the better looking one.”
He tactfully avoids replying, “I want him to be able to love as deeply and kindly as you.”
You reach out to fix his pajama collar before you both head into the room.
“You’re setting him up for a lifetime of suffering.” you sigh, rolling your eyes.
He grabs your hand and squeezes it, “But he will be a better person than I am, just like you’ve always been.”
“Hey, I think I’ve also got to say this: If things fell apart between us, I wouldn’t remarry. I’d just find a way to raise him together with you.” he adds, “I know how much you sacrificed to have our son and how much easier it would be if you had just walked away, so I’m hell bent on doing my part. I’ve made a lot of promises that I intend to keep. You can bet on that.”
“I hope you really do.” you shrug.
Gojo looks a little hurt in your lack of belief. You try to neutralize your expression. It’s almost too good to be true that he’s here tonight.
You both head into the room, lowering your voices so as not to wake your son. Your mats are placed at either side of the baby’s but Gojo sits with you on your mat for a while.
“I’m serious. I really don’t want to do this with anyone else. I really want this to work. Whatever it takes.” he says firmly, “When I said we were in this together, I meant it…even if you doubt me.”
You search his expression for any kind of insincerity and all you find is a hint of vulnerability quaking in his voice. Gojo was difficult to read most of the time. It surprises you how open he can be, especially after you married.
“I don’t necessarily doubt you. Sometimes, I just feel scared, because we never planned to end up this way and I hadn’t imagined what this would be like until we got here.” you whisper.
“It’s not so bad here, isn’t it?” he chuckles, “I mean not out here in the mountains, but like with our family life. We can move the two of you in Tokyo when you’re ready. You must be dying of boredom with the low grade curses here…and the lack of department stores.”
You jab him in the ribs. Gojo has no filter and no subtlety.
He only smirks widely.
You pull up the covers on your legs and hold his face in between your hands. You kiss his forehead in a silent reply. He smiles reassuringly the dark.
*ﾟ+.*. you’re tired of being the only that isn’t getting any. or at least, the only one who’s never gotten any before.
so when you decide to take matters into your own hands, it’s only natural that you’d want some guidance. and who better to ask than your attractive, kind, experienced co-worker, kuroo?
*ﾟ+ pairing: kuroo tetsurou/f! reader
*ﾟ+ genre: angst?
*ﾟ+ word count: 1.4k
*ﾟ+ warnings: angst??
*ﾟ+ a/n: sorry i was gone i fell in l*ve, also i’ve been trying to get better at mario kart
*ﾟ+ prev | m.list | next +.*.
You stand just a few feet from the building door, your eyes fixed firmly on the screen of your phone. It’s hard enough to try to look inconspicuous—the last thing you wanted was to rouse suspicion by lurking around somewhere you had no business being—but with every unanswered text, your heart sinks further and further in your ribcage.
It’s Tuesday, meaning Kuroo has the morning shift and then study group in the afternoon. He then gets off at the station before his usual station so that he can make a stop at the cheaper supermarket to get the week’s groceries, and—
Summary: How can you mend the past for a second chance with each other?
Masterlist || Miya Atsumu x reader
genre: angst, hurt, lil bit of fluff (1k wc)
“Do ya wanna go on a date sometime?”
Atsumu invited you to an MSBY Jackals game earlier today specifically so he can have you alone when his game was over. He meets up with you when his team lets him go. However instead of a cafe, you find yourselves on a late night grocery run shopping for cheap sushi and microwavable meals.
“No.” you say it so firmly he is taken aback. You can tell the look on his face that he was expecting you to say yes.
“Why not?” he scrambles in surprise, “Ya were into me a few years ago.”
“That’s a lot of time that has passed.” you respond.
You and Atsumu share the same hometown. When you visited Atsumu in Osaka a few years ago during your holiday, a sort of situation-ship developed. He spent almost every waking moment by your side, showing you around town or just hanging out in his apartment.
You’ve shoved that memory in the back of your mind out of embarrassment. You pray that he couldn’t feel the heat from your face and are secretly grateful that the grocery was emptying out.
It wasn’t intentional. You were someone from home he liked spending time with. In between gym “dates” and home cooked dinners, you experimented with casual intimacy. By the end of your visit, both of you agreed not to continue the relationship.
You exhaled to calm yourself. “You didn’t think I was worth the long distance, and I don’t give extra chances to people like that.”
Atsumu looks confused on what he thought was a mutual decision. He accidentally scans the sushi twice on check out. You correct the item list for him.
“Hey, ya also didn’t want it to go the distance!” he called out, a little too loudly. A couple of customers turn to look at you.
You put your hands around your waist. “Well you brought it up first and I thought that if you only want to see me when it’s convenient, then it’s not going to work.”
You jab the touch screen a little too hard. The machine prints out a receipt.
“Could you blame me though? You were in a terrible place.” he snorts as a quick reply, “Besides not wanting to do the distance is valid.”
“No, it’s not.” you retort defensively, “And I wasn’t that bad.”
Atsumu rolls his eyes. You jab him in the ribs. He is probably right, but you didn’t want to admit it. You both take a walk to a nearby park and settle at a bench to eat.
“I admit, yer still are super hot, but your mental state—not so much.” he holds up a hand, “Ya were just so…so…”
For a moment, he gets lost in trying to find the right word.
“Unhinged? Erratic?” you suggest.
“Toxic.” he nods decisively.
It’s your turn to be taken aback, “EXCUSE ME?!”
He looks surprised that you look so offended. To him it was self-evident and clear why the relationship had to end then. “You would have meltdowns over the littlest things just because you were feeling blue or whatever. You would pick a fight whenever you felt like I wasn’t paying enough attention. I was very concerned about you, but I was also confused. I didn’t know what to do. It was exhausting, being with you.
“By the end of it all, I was very hurt that you took things out on me constantly.” he sighs, “You probably didn't mean any of it. It was a tough and frustrating time.”
You slowly think back to your breakdowns and how Atsumu tried to help you cope. You remembered being frustrated with him because he seemed unprepared to deal with you. It wasn't his fault by any means. Neither of you were equipped to handle the situation.
Instantly, you felt guilty. You put him through so much and you don't even remember half of it.
“So why’d you stay?” you curiously ask.
“Sex was great.” He grins matter-of-factly.
You roll your eyes at him.
“And I knew you before that time… Look I’m not the sharpest tool in the box but even I could see slivers of who you are outside of all that. What you were going through was temporary. You can be difficult, but parts made it worth staying.
“I thought about it hard and I realized I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t be there for you and be able to handle the distance at the same time. It hurt for me to break things off, but I'd rather you find someone near enough who can check on you often.” he shrugs, “Besides, I had just gotten off a relationship when you visited. I wasn’t ready to be in another one yet, no matter how tempted I was.”
Atsumu is hot-tempered, so it’s rather strange to see him so collected and analytical. A gentle breeze blows by and ruffles his hair.
His brows are still furrowed in worry and contemplation. Clearly you haven't left his thoughts.
“What makes this time different?” you curiously ask.
He raises a brow, “I’ve been single for longer…We’ll be in the same city. You’re obviously in a better place…it’s all the circumstances I would have wanted for the last time to work.”
“I’m still angry that you left me when you needed to head back to Osaka.” you snap.
You turn away, hiding your tears from him to no avail. You couldn't help but feel hurt that he chose to leave you even if it was for the best. Although the experience made you stand on your own feet, the gap he left was immense. Thinking back to the first week without him made your chest hurt.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t make things work better. It must have been difficult to fight your demons on your own.” he utters sincerely, guilt glazing his eyes. “I promise…I can do better this time. I'll be more patient.”
He gently reaches out to hold your hand. You don't pull away. You press your forehead on his shoulder and he reaches out to draw you in. You softly sob. Swimming in a pool of memories, regret and hope, you both stay like this for a while. You hold onto his promise to try again and you hope tomorrow will be better because of it.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Summary: You’ve always wondered if your best friend Semi has feelings for you. But as time drags on and you both grow up you begin to wonder. Do you stay or walk away?
Anon request: Could you possibly do a semi x reader friends to lovers kinda thing? Angst to happy ending? Maybe where they support semis music stuff too? That would be awesome!
Jan Fics || Masterlist || Read it on A03
Semi eita x reader
genre: friends to lovers (?), angst to ??, pining, unrequited love (wc: 1.2)
Another night, another gig.
“So, how are you and Semi?” Reon casually asks, seated on the bar stool next to you. Some nights you’re alone, but tonight, Reon joins you in the crowd.
“Like us individually or together?” you raise an eyebrow.
Reon looks away and shrugs his shoulders, “Both?”
You pull up your phone to show him Semi’s instagram. Your fingers point to his latest photo, “That’s not my thigh he has his hand on.”
He tries to laugh to himself but it spills over to you. You smirk a bit. Reon’s question is one that traces back to your Shiratorizawa days. Every alumni you meet almost always asks the same thing.
You turn your eyes back to the stage where Semi is setting up. He’ll be quickly making eyes at his latest flame and will probably ditch you and Reon after the gig to head home with her. You sigh and take a sip of your drink.
“Sorry I asked,” apologizes Reon, “Didn’t you both like each other back then? You were inseparable.”
You wince. You did, but you weren’t going to admit that out loud since Semi apparently didn’t feel the same way.
Shiratorizawa with Semi was an amalgamation of small heart-skipping moments. Your memories consisted of puzzle pieces of different mundane experiences: passing notes, stolen glances and sharing music.
Outside of volleyball, Semi was most passionate about music. He hummed wherever he went with you and you’ve always felt it made you special because he didn’t do it around anyone else. You were his safe haven for when he didn’t need to act so tough. You remembered endless lunch breaks where you would listen to his original songs.
One time, you were both picking books off a shelf when he started humming one of your favorite songs of his. You started dancing to yourself and you softly hummed along. He looked left and right. Both of you were obscured from the rest of the library and so he hesitantly laced his hand with yours and danced along with you.
His hands were warm and his fingers calloused, but you felt like they fit perfectly in between yours. Seeing him swaying carefree beside you gave you an unspeakable kind of joy.
The moment had been dreamy and surreal. Neither of you talked about it afterwards, but that memory has been burned into the back of your mind.
You thought maybe he did feel something for you, but he’d always ask someone else out. Never you. Maybe it was time you moved on. You checked your phone once more. Semi clearly had.
——————————————————————
“Let’s grab a bite.” Semi invites, “I’m not seeing you around as much. We should catch up.”
You finally stop showing to him every gig. You only go when other Shiratorizawa alumni show up just because you didn’t want to block him out of your life.
“I have stuff going on in my own life. That’s all.” you shrug.
“You’re seeing someone?” he casually asks, slinging his guitar behind his back and opening the door for you. Reon and Goshki trail from behind.
Instead of answering his question, you reply, “Got tired of you not wanting to hang out when you’re hooking up with someone new.”
If Semi is fazed, he doesn’t let it show.
“You’re not as nice to me when your girlfriends are around. You never do this to your guy friends.” you add, “That and everyone is still asking if we’re dating so it just got annoying.”
He takes a long sigh, “Some people feel threatened by you. Hey, look, I’m sorry but I—“
“Save it Eita, unless you’re gonna do something about it, let’s keep things the way they are.” you put up a hand and shake your head wearily. He falls quiet beside you.
You read in his eyes that he knows he’s wrong.
“I can tell you’re trying to not be part of my life anymore.” he carefully threads, “What can I do to keep you?”
You look to him and raise a brow, “You’ve had too many second chances, Semi. And you’ve laid those chances at the hands of the women you choose to date. You’re all out.”
————————————————————————————
You feel peaceful about distancing yourself from Semi. Now that you weren’t seeing him so often, it’s easier to move on…until he shows up at your doorstep on a random Tuesday night.
“I feel like you broke up with me the last time we met,” he says.
You jump back, dumbfounded by his sudden visit. He didn’t even bother to say “hi”.
“Business hours are over. Try another time.” you slam the door, “Bye!!” You are not engaging in this conversation at 9 pm.
He takes a moment to think before knocking again.
“Alright, but I have a delivery to make. Can you at least sign something?” His tone is unusually playful. Curious, you re-open the door. He pushes some school notebooks into your hands.
“They’re lyrics I wrote about you when we were in Shiratorizawa.” he explains. You try to flip through the pages, but his hand slides in between yours and the cover to prevent you from browsing. You see his cheeks turning red.
“You can look through them when I leave. A lot of it is cringe-y and embarrassing but I thought you should have them because I wrote them for you. Every time I try to perform them in public, it feels too personal because you were the only person whom I wanted to know how crazy I was off you.”
A dam floods open in your chest. Semi DID like you. He liked you all along!
“Why didn’t you say anything?” you swallow, trying not to raise your voice. You can’t help looking back at so many wasted years. You’ve always wondered about his feelings for you but you had convinced yourself that he had none.
“I-I honestly don’t know.” he scratches the back of his head, forehead scrunched in deep thought, “I guess I took you for granted . I was complacent because you were there all the time.”
You hand the notebooks back to him without looking. “I don’t want these. They’re no longer true. You throw them out.”
Disappointment flashes in his eyes as he loosely holds the notebooks. You turn your back to him and begin to close your door.
“Wait,” he jams his foot between the doorframe, “I have one last request. I need you to be there on one last gig…”
——————————————————————————
You’re once again alone in the crowd.
Another night, another gig.
Is he going to ditch you again after the evening? You’re not really sure what coming here changes. Maybe you should’ve stayed home.
Semi takes the stage, just him and his guitar for tonight. You browse your messenger. His last message asked you if you were coming to his gig. You said you were.
A familiar melody plays. It’s not any of his latest stuff, but it sounds too familiar to be something he hasn’t played before. Then it hits you. it’s the melody he used to sing when you danced together in the library.
You look up from your phone to see him staring deeply into you. Although you are both in a crowded bar with people drinking, eating, flirting, it’s like only the two of you are really there. It brings back many stolen glances at class and shared humming in the hallways—just the feeling of him being by your side at every moment of every day.
You swallow a lump in your throat and you exhale. As a heavy feeling in your heart confirms that you’ve never really been over Semi, you take comfort in the fact that at least he’s not over you either.
Summary: What is it like to play with fire with Gojo Satorou?
Multi-fandom Masterlist || ao3 || Gojo Satorou x reader
genre: angst, spicy exchanges
“Why do you only date humans?”
Taking the train with Gojo is always a pain. He’s always making eyes at some person on the ride, turning you into an unsolicited spectator.
“You know how I am.” he replies.
“I’m not really looking for anything serious. I don’t want to be involved with someone I’m in the same line of work in so it’s a no to all sorcerers.” he tuts, “Even the hot ones.”
You first had this conversation when you’re early in your career fresh out of Jujutsu Tech. You wonder if he’s ever swallowed his words through the years. The years before you.
——————————————————————————
“We really shouldn’t be da—“ you correct yourself, “ spending time like this.”
It’s a Friday night and you’re both in a swanky rooftop bar in Roponggi. Tokyo is just a cluster of lights in the night below you. You swirl your drink in your glass and place it down on the table.
You like spending time with him this way—in a room where the lights are dim, with no one else you know. You can see just enough of him and he of you, your work weariness hidden in the dark and the murmurs of the bar.
It’s not like you’re not allowed to see each other. How do you put it…it’s sort of taboo…for people, like you, who are avoiding fuck boys.
“I’m just here to enjoy your company. What’s wrong with that?” he instantaneously leans in, his warm gaze glazing over you.
“Just my company?” you murmur demurely. You look away and lean back into your seat as you carefully await his reaction.
He’s seated so close to you your knees knock against each other and it sends electricity up your spine every time.
“Should I be enjoying anything else?” he innocently asks, licking his lips.
“I don’t know.” You shrug your shoulders slowly, moving your body forward to meet his gaze. “It is getting late.”
You’re hyper aware that he’s also watching you intently. It exhilarates you that you have under him such a spell. He’s reading into your every gesture, every word.
Is this why he’s such a flirt? It definitely makes sense. Who doesn’t enjoy this kind of power?
“Do you have to be anywhere?” he asks, his hands lightly placing itself on your knee.
He already knows the answer of course, but he likes to play the game.
You pretend to think for a moment and slide a little closer to his side of the counter. Your eyes linger on the curve of his jaw down the sides of his neck.
Hell, he’s gorgeous.
“No, I guess not.” you reply. It’s honest.
He smirks so wide you can see him at the corner of your eyes.
“I don’t have to be anywhere else either. Why don’t we just stay here?” His hand reaches out to touch your arm, his thumb gently caresses the back of your elbow.
Your fingers trace the lines of his collarbone.
“Sure.”
——————————————————————————
You’re not surprised he owns an apartment outside of the school’s premises. All the Jujutsu sorcerers in the East area basically come and go in the school all year which leaves him little privacy.
The apartment is quite bare. The only thing that hints at his personality is that he keeps the curtains drawn so he can go without his bandages.
“I thought you didn’t bring home your work with you?” you ask.
With your back facing towards him, his fingers trace the dip of your spine, making detours every now and exploring other parts of your body. His hands are wandering in between your thighs and he hooks one of your legs over him.
Suddenly you’ve come face to face with him.
You get it. You get why he’s so attractive. There’s just something about his mix of confidence, ability and his looks that makes him so magnetic.
“You’re not at work. This is play.” he winks, climbing on top of you in a flash.
With his lips planting soft kisses up and down your neck, you can feel him slowly pushing himself inside of you. You can’t help but smirk.
Gojo doesn’t date people in the Jujutsu trade, which gives you so much satisfaction on how hooked he is on you. Every time he has a bit of you, he keeps wanting more.
He sets a steady rhythm rocking you back and forth, losing himself in a haze of lust.
“Do you like touching me like this?” you ask.
A small smile perks on one side of his lip, but his veneer of cocky nonchalance is melting fast. All that’s left is a man desperately searching for pleasure with desire filling his expression.
————————————————————————————
When Utahime finds out about your affair with Gojo, her face doesn’t hide her disappointment. Gojo’s ego is big enough. She can’t believe her best friend is feeding it too.
“This isn’t going to last.” she frowns.
Utahime dragged you to the faculty room as soon as you arrived on the Kyoto campus to talk.
“I am aware. I’m not going into it for it to last. I’m just here for fun.” you try to sip the tea she sternly placed in front of you but it is aggressively boiling hot.
You’re not out to put a lock on Gojo.
“I’m just worried that you’ll end up hurt.” she crosses her arms.
As both alumnis of the Kyoto campus, the school is equal parts work and home. Even though neither of you are in your old dorms, Utahime still likes to gossip in her private rooms when you’re around.
“Well, I’m not expecting anything out of this.” you sigh, “I’m just so attracted to him and I like that he feels the same way. I can’t get enough of the adrenaline rush he gives me and when that dies down I know I’ll leave.”
Utahime seems satisfied with your answer. She sinks into her chair and looks to you.
“If someone were to tell me that you were the one laying the trap and Gojo would come out of this hurt, I would believe them. I’ll give you that much credit.“ she shrugs.
You laugh. You’ve always wondered who would be a good match for his playboy temperament. Who knew that you’d be the answer to your own question?
“Don’t get me wrong though.” she flicks her nails, “You’re both playing with fire.”
——————————————————————————
Some nights you both just like to lay side by side and whisper in the dark. Sometimes you talk about work, other times you’re just swapping stories about your friends or telling dumb jokes.
It almost doesn’t matter what you do. You like that instead he chooses to spend this time with you.
“It’s not you. It’s work.” When Gojo asks why you aren’t your usual cheerful self tonight, you try not to shrug him off.
“Are you sure? I haven’t hurt you, have I?”
Gojo’s been in enough situationships that he is attune to when the relationship is starting to turn.
“No,” you shake your head and let out a chuckle “It’s totally the work day.”
If he’s not convinced, he lets it go either way. He lies down on the bed beside you and puts his arm around your shoulder. He scrolls through his phone.
“Are you going to hurt me though?” You curiously poke a finger on his cheek.
Your tone is pretty neutral. You’ve always wondered how Gojo ends his romances. Although you’re not expecting a fully clean break, you’re not sure at how he would eventually end things with you.
“I don’t want to, but I might.” he frowns a bit.
He puts his phone down and turns his attention to you.
“Everyone says that about you.” you sigh, rolling to face the other side of the bed.
He quickly peers over your shoulder, his head hanging over yours.
“But what do you think? I don’t care what anybody says. I only care about what you think.” His brows are knitted in concern.
He’s never had to deal with other people.,
You rub the back of your neck and cross your arms while you thought out loud, “Well….there was a time before all this and I want to believe that there will a time after…I feel like I’m only starting to get to know you and I’m not ready to cut you out of my life just yet.”
You sit up and hug your knees.
“Gojo, can you promise me that we’ll stay friends after all this?” you say it so quietly he barely hears you, “Don’t do anything that will make me cut you off.”
He hears the anxiety in your voice and he can’t help but be moved. More often than not, people did not want to have anything to do with him after romance wore out. But you wanted him to stay for whatever reason because you believed he was worth a place in your life.
“I’ll try…” His eyes are wide with sincerity and his usual cheerful self is contemplative. “I promise.”
He sits up and reaches out to take both of your hands and holds you for a moment.
You smile and place a gentle kiss on his forehead.
The end of what you are both in seems so far away for Gojo. He’s immersed in his feelings and his time with you that he doesn’t want to think about what the future holds.
“I don’t want to lose you even when we’re no longer like this.” he whispers.
You run your fingers through his hair, going slowly over the motions. His eyes bat slowly, sleep lulling nearby. You both make your way under the covers and Gojo nuzzles his head on the crook of your neck.
Playing with fire has never felt so warm.
————————————-
General taglist: @itstheee-ha-chan@kaizumi@holaaaf@glxar@francxsca
Like this fic? Check out another Gojo one shot here or a Gojo series.
Summary: As you fall deeper in love with him, where do you fit into among Atsumu’s ambitions?
Atsumu x reader || HQ Masterlist
genre: angst to fluff (wc: 1k)
“So are you two together or what?” Osamu Miya squints at you expectantly with his hands on his waist.
He is much like his brother. They both have little subtlety.
After a reunion in Onigiri Miya, everybody except the twins finally leave. You’re left alone with Osamu, who is cleaning up the tables and Atsumu who is in the loo.
Osamu’s been seeing the two of you around enough that his curiosity is piqued. You look left and right, making sure Atsumu isn’t eavesdropping anywhere nearby.
“Ahhmm, don’t think so. To be honest, I’m not sure this is going to last once he heads back to Osaka.” you shrug.
You try to do it as casually as you can. You don’t want to look affected by your decision.
“Oh, really now?” Osamu tries not to give away his surprise, but from the slight raise of his brows you can tell that isn’t what he expected.
Atsumu comes out of the bathroom just as the awkward silence settles between the two of you.
“Did I miss anything?” he asks.
You and Osamu shake your heads in unison. This is a conversation to be had between you and Atsumu only.
Atsumu’s eyes flicker back and forth in suspicion.
“Let’s get you home. I’ll walk you to the intersection.” he nods.
————————————————————————————————
Atsumu is disconcerted by what he witnessed between you and Samu. He thought you and he are at a point where you can be honest with each other. Apparently not.
As your feet crunched beneath Hyogo’s pavement, he subtly turns to you.
Atsumu is one for intense romantic relationships. He is not shy about his passion. He doesn’t shy away from physical intimacy in the early stages. He is unafraid to argue and air his opinions. He likes getting in what sprints of time he can get with his partners.
And so he finds it disconcerting that despite being un-immune to his charms, you’ve been keeping him at arm’s length where he is unable to relish in the usual emotional intensity he expects out of his relationships.
“You don’t have to walk me home. I can go alone.” you insist.
“I want to.” he quickly follows you and grabs his coat. In the corner of his eye, Osamu nods as if to wish him good luck.
You remembered earlier this evening when the alcohol was really setting in, you exchanged a series of long glances at Atsumu. Your cheeks were both flushed, eyes hazy with lust and intoxication. You couldn’t help looking at him and he at you.
You looked at him through your lashes, tracing your eyes over the bridge of his nose and the curve of his cheeks. And nothing thrilled you more than when you caught him looking at you the same way, except maybe when he would smirk or wink at you from where he was.
Even though you were seated apart, these gestures obliterated the distance.
It’s not that you haven’t been attracted to him before. But something about his impassioned ways tempered by time and a tinge of melancholy adds a layer of charm to the Atsumu you know.
“When I get back to Osaka—“ he begins. Before this year, Atsumu’s never been to your side of town. Now he knows your address like the back of his hand.
“I don’t think you’ll hear much from me.” you interrupt.
The crisp in the air turns to chill.
“Hai? Excuse me?” he swivels his entire body towards you, hands buried deep in his pockets. “Aren’t you moving there?”
“I think we should stop, whatever this is.” you try to replicate the shrug you gave to Osamu.
Your impending move to Osaka was the catalyst of your increasingly frequent meetings with Atsumu this past few months. At first it was strictly business. You asked about the logistics and the house-hunting.
Soon after, Osaka was just an excuse. Whenever Atsumu came back to Kobe, you hung out because you wanted to.
You were surprised at how much you liked spending time with Atsumu. He has an irresistible zest for life and sport that was contagious. Although he’s not as frank as he used to be, you appreciated his candor and his single-handed determination not to give a shit for those who didn’t like him.
However the more time you spent with him, the more evident it is that his life revolved around his work.
Atsumu blinks hard and furrows his brow, “Was I…reading some signs…wrong?”
You hate it that he’s standing so close enough that you can feel some warmth from his body. It’s difficult not to fantasise what his skin is like on yours once you’re both alone in an apartment.
When you gaze up to his eyes, they are wide, confused and hurt.
“I-I know you were offered to play in a league abroad…” you organize your feelings, “and I…don’t want to move to Osaka just so our goodbyes can be difficult. I don’t want to have to compete with volleyball.”
“Oh that,” he murmurs swiftly, “I’m turning it down.”
Your head whiplashes, “WHAT?!”
Atsumu is one to be defined almost exclusively by his ambition and drive for volleyball. It’s such a huge part of his identity.
“I’ve made up my mind that I’m not going to play for a foreign league. I’m going to spend the rest of my professional career here in Japan.” he says steadfastly. It’s his turn to shrug.
He looks so calm. You can tell he’s made this decision for a while now.
“I’m not injured,” he reads into your expression, “I like my life right now and I’ve hit the point that I want to maintain my work-life balance. If those offers came when I was younger, I’d totally grab it. Burn myself to the ground to improve my game and everything. But that’s just not me anymore. I want to settle down in Japan.”
“Is that bad? That I’m not the ambitious, blazing athlete you thought I’d be?” he smiles. There’s a tinge of sadness as if he’s expecting inevitable disappointment.
“No, I respect that. It’s just that…” You’re not sure what to say.
“I’m closer to my family, to you and I don’t want to be ashamed that I admit that.” he continues, ”My drive has gotten me to where I am today. That doesn’t mean I need to keep this up for the rest of my life.”
He looks wistfully at the sky. You’re not sure if you’ve ever seen him so serene.
You both stop walking. You’ve arrived at the intersection. His gaze returns to you.
“So can I invite you to my game next month? Tickets will be on me.” he smiles.
He reaches out to hold your hand. Your fingers instinctively interlace with his.
“Of course, I’d love to see you play again.”
You lean in to plant a kiss on his cheek. Instead his hands cup your face and kisses your lips. Although his lips are warm and soft, the easy contentment in his eyes is replaced by longing.
When you began spending time with Atsumu, you wondered why you hadn’t been more attracted to him when you were both in Inarizaki. But now it doesn’t matter.
You feel lucky to fall for him at this stage in his life. Where his life isn’t centered completely around his career anymore. Where his ambition is to build a life with you.
-------------------------------------------------
Read more Atsumu here (one shot) or here (mini series).
— includes akaashi, semi, iwaizumi, osamu, and sugawara !!
gn! reader│ genre: fluff
Akaashi Keiji
— the guy i complimented during an entrance exam. every twitter thread and tips from the seniors already warned you about how cold the classrooms would be. yet, even now that you were all covered up, had a warm drink, you were still shivering while you wait for the proctor to enter.
your eyes scanned around the room, looking at the faces of strangers who’ll potentially be your batchmates in the following year. some were concentrated as they did their last-minute reviews, some were just bored as they scroll through their phone, but the person next to you was the only one visibly cold as well. he was a well-dressed guy, but he was already attractive per se without the fit.
“they really don’t limit their electricity in this uni, don’t they?” you were unconsciously scanning his features and only snapped back when he looked at you as well, awaiting a reply.
“uh yeah, yes,” you timidly say before proceeding to grab your phone, attempting to make what you say next sound casual, “i like your style, by the way. it’s charming."
Akaashi was startled for a while, processing what you said. when he eventually realized, the door opened as the proctor finally arrived, urging you all to stand for them to order the proper seating arrangement.
"o-oh, thank you,” he replied as he stood up, beaming a reserved smile at you, “goodluck to us, i guess! i hope i see you around.”
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Summary: What were you and Chuuya willing to trade for the lives you want to live?
M. Fandom Masterlist || Chuuya Nakahara x reader
Genre: angst, exes to ??, wc: <1000
“You can just kill me now.” you calmly look at Chuuya Nakahara.
His eyes are bright and angry, and his knife is pointed at your neck. Your back is tensely pressed against a large tree. Even after years have passed, you can tell he hasn’t forgiven you for leaving him.
“We’ll chalk it up as retribution for all the pain I caused you.” you murmur, shifting against the tree.
“You never loved me. You lied.” he hisses. Even under the cover of the night’s darkness, you can see his eyes glint with anger.
“Chuuya, of course I did.” you furrow your brows indignantly. You hated it when he questioned your feelings for him. “You’re the reason I stayed as long as I did with the Port Mafia. I’ve been wanting to leave for ages… but that meant I couldn’t come home to you anymore so I stayed.”
His expression softens a bit, and his knife withdraws from your throat by an inch.
“Being in the Port Mafia gave you so much pride. I joined because I wanted you to be proud of me, too. That and I wanted to be able to live away from the slums.” you dust yourself quietly, “but it wasn’t for me. It was too much meaningless violence.”
You shudder as you recall your time under Koyo Ozaki, who specialized in torture tactics. Koyo was not only ruthless, she was also great at drilling hopelessness to people born in the shadows such as yourself.
Once you were in the mafia, you couldn’t quit unless you were dead. Your only protection came from joining the Armed Detective Agency. Defectors like you and Dazai are still considered traitors. However, you were left alone to keep peace with the agency.
“Then why did you have to leave me?” Chuuya is yelling on top of his lungs while punching the bark beside you.
You can hear the anger and hurt ringing in his voice. He doesn’t bother asking about your loyalty to the mafia. This is personal.
His fists are balled up so tight his nails dug so deep into his palm. You are afraid he would cut himself.
Chuuya doesn’t like to be seen crying. You know that if you weren’t looking at him, his face would be stained with tears.
You shake your head and smile sadly. There was no way for you to leave the Mafia and still be one of their executives. They would either turn against Chuuya or go after you.
“You’re the one regret I had about leaving.” you sigh in a long exhale, “If there was a way for the both of us to start all over, away from all this mess, where we can like our jobs and live comfortably, I would trade anything for it.”
You pressed emphasis on your last words. Anything. You’d give anything to have it all.
Chuuya sheaths his knife and walks away. He stands on the other side of the tree, somewhat unwilling to leave just yet.
You turn to him to be able to see his profile at the corner of your eye. “Half my purpose is to be in the Detective Agency, and the other half is to be with you. I am content and almost happy right now. But I don’t feel complete—not sure if I ever will, because you’re not with me.”
Chuuya’s anger dissipates. He looks conflicted and sad. He struggles to find his words.
“Do you still think of me often?” he whispers so softly you barely hear him.
“All the time,” your fingers reach out to touch his hand. Chuuya doesn’t pull away nor does he grab you, “Whenever I’m home, I think about what it would be like to have you there and what you would be doing in your home. I try to imagine what it’s like to know about your day, to sleep in the same room, to eat the same food…”
It takes all his self-control not to look at you.
Warm tears start sliding down your face. You miss Chuuya the most when you’re away from work. When you hear Chuuya hold back a sob, you know he feels the same, too.
“I don’t regret being able to join the agency.” you exhale, “The cost was just so high. The cost was you.”
You close your eyes and let your tears fall.
You’re both quiet for a moment. Each trying to catch your own breath and dry your tears. Chuuya’s fingers are still loosely interlaced with yours.
“Can I ask if you are seeing someone else?” It’s your turn to ask the questions.
“Yes, I am.” he replies.
You frown. You knew the answer but you wanted to hear it from him.
“It’s not...it’s not serious, just for companionship and my physical needs.” he follows up, instantly regretting your reaction.
“Can't be all that different.” you snort, half-fishing. You wait to see what he says about you.
“It's more exhilarating with you,” he assured firmly, “Everything feels more intense and nerve-wrecking with you, as if life is suddenly on steroids.”
Suddenly you feel the warmth of his finger disappear from your hand. You turn around to find that Chuuya has disappeared into the night before you can grab him with your arms.
Summary: Iwaizumi is on a quest to find love with an old friend. What can he do to get there?
Iwaizumi x fem!reader/Oc || Read it on A03
Genre : romance, friends to lovers
Hajime Iwaizumi ran into the cafe, eyes wide and panicky. “I’m already twenty minutes late for the date.”
As he composed himself before he entered the place, he took a deep breath. He was determined to enjoy this date because it might be their last. Hiromi had never taken lateness kindly.
“Gomen, the meeting ran longer than expected,“ he said, nodding his head into a bow, too embarrassed to meet her eyes, “I’m so sorry.”
She looked up from her books with a weary smile. Beside her was a pile of four or five books, some of which were beginning to yellow, meticulously tabbed with colorful post-its.
“You still made it,” she said, closing her book “I usually walk out if my date was a full hour late.”
It was a Thursday. She had an afternoon at the library while he had an early off (if it wasn’t for his work meeting). Neither of them worked traditional 9 to5 jobs. He began to wonder if seeing each other would be easier if they did. Iwa was leaving on a Friday for Osaka for the rest of the weekend. He was a physical trainer for a professional volleyball team, which meant that he travelled with them during their season.
They called for a menu and began to order what would be their dinner.
“How’s work?” he asked, surveying her through the menu.
“It’s a lot of reading,” she gestured towards her stack of books, “But we’re at the beginning of a new research-heavy campaign so it’s normal. How about you?"
“Mmm…it’s still the start of the season so most of the team is quite healthy. Some of them are a little excited so we’re just trying to reign them in to keep them from straining themselves.” he said, thumbing through the pages.
He had settled for a hamburg curry rice while she had gone for a bowl of tuna pasta. She looked distracted.
“What’s up?” he asked, leaning into the table now that the niceties were done with.
“I like my job. I like my team. But why do I feel like I’m just grinding day in and day out." she sighed, resting her chin on her books, “There’s got to be more in adult life than this."
“You’ve got to find the reason out on your own because your employer won’t do it for you. Not that I’m qualified to give advice or anything.” he said, looking up from his drink.
“I know,” she murmured, her head rested between her folded arms “It’s just so difficult to find the energy for it sometimes.”
Iwaizumi nodded. He knew what she meant. No one job could fulfill all his desires for accomplishment. He liked his job, but it wasn’t a perfect job. He wished that he didn’t need to spend so many weekends away from home.
Man, this date was sobering.
“You sound burnt out. Maybe take it slower at work?” he quirked his head to match the angle of hers.
“What is it that you want to do that you’re not doing for work?” he asked. Despite less than a year in the workforce, she already looked so glum.
She pulled herself up and swept her books aside, “I don’t know to be honest. Within the next two years, I just want to be published in other big publications. It doesn’t have to be necessarily on food, more like the stuff I write for fun. The stuff I’m willing to freelance while I have a day job, y’know?”
“Like what?”
Their order had arrived. She stabbed her fork into her pasta and gently twirled it around.
“The New York Times has a column called Modern Love where you write a long essay about some type of love. It doesn’t have to be romantic. It can be platonic, familial, or even failed love as long as it is set in modern day. I’ve been meaning to write about my failed relationships.” she said thoughtfully.
Iwa choked on his first spoonful.
“Well, if this doesn’t work out, I can at least write about it. Get three hundred dollars and buy you dinner to thank you for the experience.” she laughed drily.
“Are you always this pessimistic on your first dates?” he coughed, taking a sip of water “Either ways, I’m glad to be of help.”
She perked up a bit and grinned. Her whole face lit up when she smiled. A wave of warmth washed over him.
“Send me a copy when you get published.” he added, “I want to see what you write about me.”
“I’m definitely going to writet that you were late on the first date.” she said without skipping a beat. She was grateful that they had chosen this cafe. There were not too many people even if it was dinner time, yet the ambient noise that filled the air kept their pauses from being too silent.
Iwa stopped eating and squinted his eyes at her, “You are not gonna let me live this down, huh?" She winked at him with a glint in her eye. He smiled in response.
He couldn’t care less about what the New York Times was but she was evidently fascinated by it. He wasn’t going to own up to uncultured swine he was on a first date. He had already been late.
“Anyways tell me more about this Modern Love.” he settled back into his dinner.
She pulled out her phone and began typing, “The Modern Love column came out with questions to help get to know someone. This could be a fun date activity.”
“Sure, you want to give it a go?”
She shoved the phone in his face and scrolled through the questions. “There are three sets of questions. Each set more intimate than the last. You can choose from the first set.”
Iwa lightly held the phone, his fingertips grazing the back of her hand. He chose the first question that caught his eye.
“Number 4. What would constitute a ‘perfect’ day for you?” he read out loud. Hiromi took her phone back and read the question to herself.
“What’s your answer?” she asked.
“I just got back, I hadn’t figured out what a perfect day would be like here.” he shrugged sincerely.
She snorted loudly, “What a cop out answer!”
Iwa looked up and thought for a bit, “A day spent walking around in the city…maybe a day that starts with a morning jog and a hot unrushed breakfast after. Catching up with friends sounds good too.”
Hiromi nodded. She was fully absorbed as he talked. It was like she was going through the scenes of his day in his mind as he described them.
“What about you?” he asked, snapping out of her out of her reverie.
“A day at the market,” she said quietly. ”Any market day is a good day really.”
“To be honest, it doesn’t depend on the activities so much at times. The people you’re with is definitely important. A day at the market can still be terrible with the wrong company.” she added.
“I wasn’t subpar last weekend, was I?” he asked.
“No...you weren’t.” she replied a little more shyly than usual.
They moved onto the next question.
“What roles do love and affection play in your life?” she read out loud, “Doesn’t have to be romantic again.”
Iwaizumi inhaled sharply. That was such a loaded question.
“If you’ll use this for an article and it gets published, you better buy me dinner someplace nice.” he tutted.
“Then make this one good.” she smirked.
Iwaizumi stopped eating for a few minutes to think through the question. Before he answered, he closed his eyes and breathed out slowly.
“It defined my entire career in volleyball. My best friend and I watched a game and we kind of chose to go into the same school team after that because we were both so obsessed with the sport. Our connection was almost telepathic. We barely used signals when it was just the two of us. We basically ran off instinct.” said he softly, his eyes reminiscing a different time.
“Although we went our separate ways after high school, I spent so much time in volleyball that it defined a huge part of who I was too. I mean, if I didn’t play volleyball, I would probably be in another sport, but I’d still think I’d be different, y’know?”
You could tell he was avoiding the word “love.” Iwa was not one to be vulnerable.
“In college when I was in my first serious relationship, it was the type of love that gave me confidence and assurance. But I guess it wasn’t enough…for me to say it deeply impacted my later choices on career and other decisions, unlike volleyball.”
“I can’t help but feel that any defining…relationship I have romantically will be weighed against with my time with volleyball…my first real love…" he tried to laugh it off, but you felt the weight off his words, “And I’ve been lucky enough to have enough love in my life that I don’t need to constantly be in a relationship to feel complete.”
A moment of silence fell in between the two.
“That’s a lot to heap on a relationship.” she whispered in contemplation.
Iwa awkwardly scrambled for damage control, “…no pressure.” was all he managed to say.
“So why try to date? When it’s so tough to find someone who can match up with volleyball?” she asked.
“Companionship?” he shrugged, “It’s still nice to date around.”
“And you’re…nice. I’ve been wanting to date you since we were in college. I’ve liked you for a long time…” his entire face flushed pink.
Her eyes fluttered wide open. Since college? Is he serious?
“Our friends were right,” she said in a hush, “You did have a thing for me. I thought they were just teasing us.”
“You had a boyfriend back then and when you broke up with him, I was seeing someone else.” he exhaled, looking her earnestly in the eye, “Wasn’t it obvious to you?”
Iwaizumi couldn’t tell if Hiromi just didn’t want to speak or was too busy contemplating. She was too stunned to speak.
“It felt like fate seeing you on the plane.”
A million things were going through her mind, she slowly opened her mouth, “Now that we’ve been on two half dates, what’s it like? Is this what you’d thought it would be?”
“College is very different from now, but the short answer is yes.” he nodded, rolling his shoulders back. “Everything just clicks. I’m so comfortable with you. It’s so easy for us to talk. I like you just as much as I did in college…I just really like you. Time hasn’t changed that at all.”
Hiromi looked overwhelmed. She was unable to look him in the eye. She was barely getting to know him romantically and he had long been decided about his feelings for her.
“Do you wanna ask if they sell alcohol here? You look like you need a drink.” he joked. Hiromi didn’t look like she heard him.
"This is so intense for a first date.” she shook her head in what seemed like regret.
“We can stop,” he gently interjected, “We can talk about something else.”
She finally looked up to him and whispered, “Hajime, you’ve just dumped a lot of pressure on me.”
“Sorry, didn’t mean to do that,” he smiled apologetically, “Anyways, I’m aware that we’re both at different…stages of attraction. Besides, I think this would be way more awkward if we both were pining.”
“Wouldn’t that be sweeter?” she asked.
“Way too sappy for me.” he waved with his hand. Hiromi let out a small chuckle. Iwa secretly sighed in relief.
———————————————————————————
After dinner, they headed to the arcade to blow off some steam. Iwaizumi offered to carry some of her books to which he somewhat regretted. Her books were like rocks. How the hell was she lugging them on her own in the city?
“I could carry them on my own if it’s too heavy.” she offered.
Iwaizumi looked at her incredulously. She was at least half a foot shorter and much smaller in build. His biceps weren’t going to buck in front of her.
They wandered around the arcade for a bit, unsure what to do first. Iwa silently prayed they didn’t have to do any dancing. Just when they were about to decide on the claw machine, Hiromi pointed towards a small karaoke booth at the corner of her eye.
“Let’s go in there.” she tugged at his jacket.
Iwaizumi flipped through the songs. None of them seemed to be in Japanese. All of them were in English.
“Did you pick up a default english karaoke song?” she asked, browsing through the catalogue. The room was clearly designed for kids. It was so small their knees touched and Iwa could barely sit up without hitting his head on the ceiling.
“Nah,” he shook his head, “I don’t really sing…in English. Any suggestions?”
Hiromi typed in the number of a song.
“I’m about to introduce you to your first usable English karaoke song.” she grinned at him mischievously. Iwa looked at her suspiciously.
The opening notes started to play—some acoustic guitar and a trumpet. The song sounded…Mexican? For the longest time there were no lyrics on the screen. Hiromi swayed to beat as her eyes were glued to the screen. When the song finally began to hit what sounded like the chorus, the music paused for a second.
“TEQUILA!” she yelled into the mic.
Iwaizumi was so startled he jumped up and hit his head on the ceiling. Hiromi was giggling uncontrollably.
“That’s it?!” he exclaimed.
“Yeah,” she laughed, pressing the mic towards him, “You try on the next chorus.”
When the trumpets began playing, Iwa readied himself. The song hits its familiar pause soon enough and he pulls the mic closer to his lips.
“Tequila?” he said tentatively.
“With more conviction, Hajime!” she urged, taking back the mic. On the third chorus, she moved closer to him so they could share the mic.
The music hits its third pause, they looked at each other and yelled, “TEQUILA!”
They both grinned and laughed, almost as if the act of singing about alcohol was like a drink in itself. He could feel her shins pressed against him as she continued to sway for the music. A glint in her eye flickered as she nudged him to dance along with her.
Iwaizumi wasn’t going to refuse. Especially not on their first date. He swayed what he could on the tiny box while the song lasted.
—————————————————————————
At the end of the night, they both sat in the train waiting to get off on their respective stops. The carriage shuttled back and forth, pushing and pulling their bodies back and forth into each other.
“Hajime,” she tapped him on his shoulder, “We didn’t finish the last set. Let’s do a quick one before I get off.”
He nodded, “Pick one we can answer with just one word.”
Hiromi swiftly browsed the list, before looking up.
“Finish the sentence, ‘Right now, we are both feeling…’"
Their faces were both so close they could feel the heat of each other’s breath. The back of their hands were touching, but neither dared to reach out or pull away.
“Hopeful.” whispered Hiromi, an evident earnestness in her voice. She was fighting off her shyness just long enough to look him in the eye when she talked.
Iwa smiled, “Smitten.”
Before she could react, the train jolted as it shuffled towards her station.The train stopped at Hiromi’s station and she got up from her seat, taking the books from Iwa’s arms.
He followed her to the exit and watched her as she got off. She gave a small wave from the platform while she watched the doors closed.
Iwa was tempted to press his hands onto the window, unwilling to end their time for the evening. His last sight of her was her smile when the train plunged itself into the night.
“Did he start out his day at the market with a morning jog?” she asked herself, watching the train swiftly pull away.
Iwaizumi took a deep breath. The night had gone differently from how he thought the date would proceed. For one thing, he didn’t expect to confess so early into the relationship.
He took his phone and curiously googled the questions she mentioned.
It turns out the title of the New York Times article was not “Questions to Get to Know Your Date” as Hiromi had led him to believe. Instead, it was titled, “Thirty Six Questions That Lead to Love”.
“Huh,” he said to himself. He shut off the screen to his phone.
Summary: Isshiki and Nene are childhood friends and rivals. As adults, what is their relationship like?
M. Fandom Masterlist || Isshiki x Kinokuni
Genre : romance, friends to lovers,
“When I see you, I’m reminded of all my shortcomings.” Kinokuni Nene mutters stiffly.
She would admit this ever so often to Isshiki Satoshi, her childhood friend, rival and general frenemy. He is the gifted chef between the two of them while Nene earned everything she picked up.
“You don’t have to say it like a threat.” he always chuckled lightly.
None of her feelings has anything to do with Isshiki personally. Rather, they are insecurities about her own limitations—a fact that she has to slowly accept. He sensed this and made an effort to give her space after graduating from Totsuki, so that she could grow and see herself outside of their rivalry.
“Let’s go out for a drink after work. I’m in Tokyo for a few days.”
Isshiki frequently visits Tokyo for business and uses whatever spare time he has to go around and see friends. When he visits Kirinoya, Nene insists on staying inside kitchens. Hinako and Megumi literally have to drag her out when the restaurant closes in an attempt to get her some social interaction.
“Are you still mad at me?” he asks when he finally gets her alone.
Nene’s temper shoots through the roof and she pounds her fist onto the table. She gives Isshiki an accusatory glare before irately pursing her lips together. After all these years, it’s evident she still holds her frustrations about him deep inside of her.
“I can’t seem to shake it off. I feel like I’m 16 again when I see you.” she confesses, “I’m broadening my horizons and improving my cooking, but none of that seems to matter when I hear your name.”
She bites her lip and contemplatively looks away. Meeting Isshiki, even when they were in the company of other people, always felt awkward for her. An outburst seems regularly on its way. Nevertheless, her temper never deterred him from trying to make amends.
On his next visit to Tokyo, Isshiki has an idea. “I brought you something. From home.”
He hands her a container of daifuku, mochi stuffed with red bean paste, and offers some to her. From barely a glance, Nene cantell it was her mother’s handy work. Isshiki must have stopped by her family home before coming to visit her.
When she bites into a mochi, her eyes widen.
“It’s not obasan’s recipe.” she observes. Her mother used their family recipe strictly made of red bean paste and brown sugar. This had dried strawberry bits. This was Nene’s own tinkering when she was around 17.
“Well, she asked what flavor I wanted, and my favorite Kinokuni daifuku recipe has always been yours.” he smiles brightly, his posture leaning forward and his eyes twinkling.
Isshiki tended to drop by every now and then to see her family. He grew up with her there and considered her family like his own.
“But why?” she asks, astounded.
“It reminds me of your cooking. When I think of home, I think of the Kinokuni household,” he shrugs with ease and leans back.
Nene quietly sinks back into her seat and takes thoughtful bites. She understood what he meant. Coming from a family of traditional gourmands, the food she grew up with was nothing short of spectacular.
And so it becomes a ritual. Whenever Isshiki came to Tokyo, they would meet to eat something from the Kinokuni household. The food they shared was replete with nostalgia. For Nene, it was a way to heal and repaint her years of bitter rivalry with Isshiki. As they reminisced about the past, Nene’s memories begin to highlight happier times— bike rides together and experiments in the kitchen—memories she thought buried, never to be unearthed.
“Can we go out? Just the two of us?”
Isshiki is surprised when Nene requests his company at all. But he is quick to agree. He makes sure to stop by her family home again, to bring her something they can share. Their meetings occupied a slim slice of their time, yet they slowly filled more of Nene’s thoughts.
What will Isshiki bring next time? When is he coming next to see her?
Nene begins to consider him outside of their former rivalry. He is no longer Isshiki, Totsuki’s Seventh Seat or heir to the Isshiki culinary empire. He is just Isshiki, bringer of food and Tokyo visitor.
“I made you something.”
It’s early December, and probably his last visit to Tokyo for the year. Nene hands him a plate of namagashi, freshly made sweets typically eaten during the New Years. Each bite reminds him of their late night adventures in her family kitchen for leftover sweets. They are no longer in her kitchen nor are they children in any capacity. Still the memory remains.
Isshiki quietly sits in her kitchen sipping green tea while she plates more sweets for herself. She mumbles something about experimenting for her family holiday dinner. But Isshiki is moved. Nene doesn’t make food (for free) for just anyone.
Before he goes, he takes a risk. He leans in for a kiss, their first and last of the year. Nene’s hands cup the sides of his face, and it makes him feel like he could stay like this forever.
“It’s ok that you can’t come to Tokyo next month.” she assures.
Come early spring, Isshiki is so busy that he cannot leave Kyoto. Nene is too quiet on the other end of the line that it worries him if he’s made her upset. He offers to come the week after the next to ease her and feels an unexpected pang of guilt.
Instead she replies, “What if I come down to see you?”
Isshiki is beyond ecstatic. He arrives to pick her up at the Kyoto Central station a little too early. When Nene appears on the side of the arrivals, he runs to her, feeling unexpectedly desperate and impatient, only alleviated once she is by his side.
The next time he comes to Tokyo, he sees her on the other side of the train station, behind the check out counters. His feet speed up from brisk walking to running. In his sudden desperation to reach her, he had begun to regret not being able to see her earlier. He was apprehensive to put it mildly.. Would she be cold to him? Would things be the same between them? He’s arrived empty handed without treats from home. Would they still have things to walk about?
“Should I take a later train then?”
Some of their days together are spent in the confines of Nene’s apartment. Their jobs constantly demand them to be on their feet, so it’s nice to be able to lie down and bask in whatever sun pours out of her bedroom windows.
Isshiki’s visits feel too short. Nene does not say a word when he subtly asks for an extension of their time together. Instead she buries her face by his side, and he knows better than to get up and leave. Isshiki closes his eyes and relaxes his back onto the mattress.
“Don’t go just yet.” she whispers. The touch of pining in her voice does not escape him.
He puts an arm around her and pulls her in. He’s happy to have a reason to stay in Tokyo.
I am writing a longer fic that explores this unwilling friends to lovers dynamic between Isshiki and Nene in a sort of arranged marriage scenario. Let me know if you’d like to join!
Summary: Hajime Iwaizumi runs into an old friend yet again. Second chances don't come often so will he able to make a move before their time is up?
Iwaizumi x fem!reader/Oc || Read it on A03
Genre : romance, friends to lovers
The day had gone by quicker than Hajime Iwaizumi thought it would. It was now or never.
It all began last week, when he ran into Hiromi Miura, a friend from college, in a small Vietnamese restaurant in Ginza a month after he moved to Tokyo. As he lined up for a seat, he noticed the figure in front of him was familiar. He tapped her shoulder and waved. Hiromi was so surprised that it took her a moment to realize it was her old classmate.
“Iwa??” she said in disbelief.
They got a seat together to catch up. Normally, Hiromi would be nervous about have lunch with one other man, but she had been on so many failed dates lately that at least she knew lunch with Iwa would not end in disappointment.
“You’re eating here? This place must be legit huh?” he said, remembering that she worked for a food publication. She chuckled.
“Definitely has my seal of approval.”
The restaurant was small and Iwa was rather tall. He could feel his knees touching hers from time to time. She crossed her feet behind her chair so they didn’t have to apologize mid-conversation when they bumped into each other.
“I’ve been meaning to call you by the way. Do you know any good markets around where I live?” he pulled out his phone to show her the area where he was staying, “I’m not too familiar with the area yet, so you’ll have to tell me where is it on the map.”
Iwa lived almost at fringe of the city. His home was located not too far away by bike to one of Hiromi’s favorite wet markets. She took his phone a little more enthusiastically than he expected her to and pinned a location.
Hiromi loved showing people around her favorite food spots. If being a food guide was more lucrative, she would ditch her dayjob altogether.
“Here! There’s a wet market where I’m friendly with the stall owners right here.” she pointed, “It’s about a 15 minute bike ride away from your place. I can help you get good deals. Not too many tourists too.”
And that was how Iwa found himself inside a wet market with Hiromi, on an early Monday morning. On most mornings, Iwa liked to jog and not do chores, but Hiromi had been so enthusiastic about the market that he let himself get sucked in. He tried not to yawn as she waved at every other stall.
“Another market day for work? Did the production team ask for your help again?” tutted an old woman at a vegetable stand.
Did he really look that dressed down?
“No, I’m bringing a friend around, hopefully a soon to be regular. Yamagata-san, this is Iwaizumi. He just moved here.” she chuckled, gesturing at him. Iwa politely bowed and greeted her.
As Iwa picked out some vegetables, Hiromi continued to chat with the old woman, guiding him every now and then to a vegetable that looked fresher than what he had picked out.
“I thought he was a production boy., You know one of those boys that drives your company van and carries your stuff.” Yamagata-san commented good naturally, “Too handsome for a production boy.”
When Iwa was about to pay up, Hiromi disappeared over to the next stall. He sighed and made his way to the counter at the back. Behind the desk, he saw a simply framed black and white photo of Yamagata-san with a candid smile, reaching out to a customer. The background seemed to blur and the old woman was the star. Next to that was a smaller photo of Yamagata-san and…Hiromi.
Was Hiromi some sort of MVP for this stall or something?
“Miura-chan took that photo of me,” said Yamagata-san, taking notice of Iwa, “I told her that I didn’t need such a big photo of myself so I insisted on having one with her.”
“What was the photo for?” he asked, peering again at the two photos.
“She ran an article on the oldest stalls of the market saying we were the heart of the community or something like that. When the story came out, she even gave us a glossy magazine that had my picture on it. She made us sound big and important. She was really grateful that we let her talk about us so she gave us a framed photo of ourselves to remember her milestone by. It was her big solo article I think.”
After hopping from one store to another, sometimes to say hi and others to buy produce from, they settled in for early lunch at yakitori or grill restaurant. The sun was high in the sky. While waiting to be seated, Hiromi bought cool green tea for the both of them.
“This is so good! Damn!” he sighed in pleasure. The drink relieved the sweat gathering at his back. Hiromi grinned in satisfaction.
“Iwa can I ask you something?” she tilted her head towards him.
“Shoot.” Suddenly he felt unnerved and tense. What could this be about? He bit down on the tip of the straw.
Her eyes were with amusement, “Did you not notice that the fruit vendor was making eyes at you?? She’s totally into you and I tried to wingman for, but you just shrugged and paid up.”
“Wait, for real?” he asked, taken aback by his lack of self-awareness.
Hiromi nodded her head vigorously, “That was cold!’
He slapped his hands on his forehead, “Well, I wasn’t really interested in her anyways.” he sighed, his eyes flicking towards her before looking away.
Hiromi recalled a time in college, when a circle of their friends were having lunch together. One of the girls that had a crush on Iwa tried to make a pass at him.
“I would date you if I could, Hajime-kun,” she blushed. Everybody’s eyes turned to Iwaizumi who continued eating and only stopped because someone had nudged him.
“Thanks, I’m flattered,” he nodded. It had taken him weeks to realize that she was trying to confess to him.
“Do you remember that time in colle-“ she began but was interrupted. He was cringing as he remembered the same memory.
“Don’t bring up that lunch incident, Hiromi. I know you’re going to. Just NO.” he groaned, “I get it! I’m dense.”
Hiromi was trying to restrain her laughter. He could hear her stifle her giggle beside him. She tried not to look at him. He straightened up beside her and nudged her knee with his.
“I wasn’t interested in her anyways.” he said, thoughtfully looking at her.
“Clearly not,” she snorted, browsing through the menu, “You should see what you want to eat before they seat us.”
He placed his hand a little bit behind her and peered over her shoulder. He could feel her arm pressed against his chest. They were seated so closely his nose almost touched the side of her head. She remained oblivious to him.
After they were seated, Iwaizumi finally brought up what he had been noticing.
“How does everyone here have a photo by and with you?” he asked, “Are the photos really required by your work?”
Hiromi looked a little embarrassed. She cleared her throat and sighed, “People like to take. They take stories and never give the people they take from. They take their food and their ideas, which is really not fair.
“It took me a while to earn the trust of the community here but once I gave them a copy of their story, it made them realize I was sincere about wanting to give back to them. The black and white framed photos, that was on me. We had some budget left so I got them their own photos because they’re important even if their job is not glamorous.”
“You’re really passionate about your job huh?” he said. The food had just arrived and they began to rearrange their bowls and plates on the table.
“It’s not my job I’m passionate about, it’s people and their stories. I’m just lucky enough to be paid enough to do this.” she smiled.
“Don’t you feel the same way about your job?” she asked, “You like volleyball so much you turned it into a profession.”
“I do, but I’ve just started in my new job. Passion takes time if not at least a little bit more experience. Maybe by next year, I can feel the same way about my work.”
———————————————————————————
“Thanks for bringing me here.” he said as he loaded up his bike with his morning purchases.
“Thanks for lunch,” she said. Iwaizumi had paid while she was at the restroom to thank her for introducing him to her community market.
Urgency prodded at his back. It was now or never. As she handed him some of his packaged vegetables, he hastily turned to her.
“Can I see you again next week?” he said it so quickly, he wasn’t sure she fully understood him.
“Oh, do you want to try a different market?” she asked, carefully taking out the strawberries from her bag and transferring it to his bag.
“No, no this market looks great —“
“I know right! It’s not the best or most comprehensive market, but it’s a good market if you’re looking to build a community with.” she beamed with pride.
Iwa straightened his back and cleared his throat, “No, like a date.”
She paused and stood to meet his eye. “Oh…I guess this is why you weren’t interested in the vendor huh. I really thought she would be your type! She even plays volleyball.” She looked away while slowly recalling signs from earlier today: the knee nudge, the lunch, his lack of interest in other women in the market.
Iwa could feel the heat rising in his cheeks. He forgot how nerve-wracking it was to ask someone out. Sweat was pooling around his temples just standing there.
“Ahh not really, I am actually interested…in you. I thought you might like me too, that’s why you agreed to go out with me today…y’know to test the waters…” he stuttered, “but..ah…turns out you just really like markets. I realized that I should have been more forward.”
Hiromi was simultaneously flattered, mortified and a little confused. She kept quiet. In the back of her mind, she entertained the thought that maybe this was an unofficial date, but she had convinced herself that Iwa was invested in buying cheaper fresher produce.
“It’s ok if you don’t want to. You look uncomfortable,” he said, waving his hands side to side, breaking her out of her reverie, “We can pretend like this never happened.”
She hesitantly replied, “Well, I’m on the weekend and my hours are flexible on Thursday because it’s a reading day for me…” She was praying in her heart that she got her schedule right.
Her reply caught Iwa off guard. Nevertheless, he jumped to the chance to spend a day next week with her.
“That’s great! I’m away next weekend, but Thursday sounds great.” he smiled, looking hopeful, “Let’s meet then?”
“I know it’s kinda early, but I think I have to put it out there that my schedule’s really erratic some days. That’s kind of put some people off.” he shrugged. His schedule was one of his occupational hazards.
“We’re out on a Monday, I think I’m aware.“ she nodded. Although outwardly calm, she was ready to faint. She couldn’t wait to tell Itsumi that she had a date with a seemingly decent guy?
“Oh and Iwa?” her face schooled itself into a more serious expression as he gave her his full attention, “It’s non-negotiable for me. If you want to insist on being able to date other people, I’ll have to cancel next week.”
“I had a small spat with this guy I was dating and I…walked in on second date while he was making out with someone.” she gritted her teeth, heaving a sigh.
“Ok, I won’t see anybody else while we’re seeing each other. Deal?” he couldn’t help but smile.
“I’m not very good at dating. I haven’t been in a good relationships in awhile. I’m gonna need your patience.” she said softly, turning to him, her eyes wary.
“I’m kind of aware.” he nodded, “I’ll make the most of the time you can give me.”
When she left she felt dumbfounded. She had recently sworn off dating and now she was on another date?
“Itsumi, you’ll never guess what just happened!” she called up her coworker.
This is part 2 of a series on Iwa living in Tokyo after he moves back from California. If you’d like to keep up with the next chapters (which will include questions to help them fall in love *hint hint*), comment or message!
Hello, I recently submitted an ask about an angst with Gojo. I wanted to modify my ask, if that’s possible. I wanted that when Gojo comes out of the realm that the reader is dead. And that the reader’s death was orchestrated by the higher ups.
Thank you!!!😘☺️☺️☺️
I didn't answer this for the longest time because I didn't want to spoil anything about what I've already planned The Man Who Has Everything (TMWHE) 😅 That and I don't generally do character death.
This isn't the direction that fic took at all, but I'm hoping you still liked it and had fun reading it 😬✌️I have been toying with the idea of his hypothetical super powerful kind tho so hmmmmmm
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
hiiii!! just want to say i just found out your page and i really like the gojo angstt!!! (i’m a sucker for angst) and you wrote it so beautifully!! can you please tag me for the next part? thankyou so much!! have a good dayy
Hi! I forgot to reply to this, but I think I did add you to the taglist. Thanks so much for your support ahhh 🥺💕💕
I consider my Gojo angst the best among the best of my recent works so it's nice to have some validation 😁
Summary: You’re dating your ex-fiancee Gojo again, but your relationship hits a crucial crossroad. Do you stay or do you go?
Gojo Satoru x reader
Multi-fandom Masterlist || HQ Masterlist || Ao3 version
Genre: fluff, angst, exes to friends to lovers
“You’re hiding something from me.” Gojo Satoru confronts you as you step onto the hallway for spare rooms in Jujutsu Tech.
He is in your way. You try not to get irritated.
“No, I’m not.” you snap. It’s been a long day. You don’t need this. You push him aside and keep walking. Gojo is irritably good at sniffing things out.
He swiftly appears before you again and blocks your way, “What is it?”
“I missed my period.” You stop and cross your arms, “If you really wanna know.”
“Oh.” He mumbles softly. He looks incredulous, as if he is yet to be sure of what he just heard. You walk past him.
“Oh.” he repeats again, eyes widening as the weight of your words dawn. He turns to you.
You leave him standing there, arrested and head to your room. You’re too tired for this.
Gojo watches you enter your room and lie down. He tries to offer you something to eat since you look so pallid under the fluorescent light of the room.
“I’m not hungry. Just sleepy.” you yawn, waving dismissively.
Gojo feels obligated to stay. He looks at you quietly from the door, unable to leave.
“This really isn’t the most opportune of times,” he breathes in, “but are you seeing anyone else?”
“No.” you murmur, “I don’t have the time.”
He walks in to sit beside you, making sure to close the door behind him. You roll over to the other side of the bed away from his gaze.
Gojo knows he is not an easy person to be with. He’s your ex-fiancée for one thing, and he struggles with monogamy for another.
Being able to be intimate with you again was a chance only the gods could’ve intervened. And now that chance is starting to fade. He lies down beside you, his eyes towards the ceiling. At the start of your relationship, it was him who was hesitant. Things are reversed tonight.
“I don’t want to talk. Go away.” you cut in before he says anything, “I’m seeing a doctor soon to make sure.”
He nods understandingly and quietly, but slowly pads out of the room. The weight of the floor lightly creaks under his footsteps. The silence between the two of you dominates the hall.
————————————————————————————
There was a time when you were younger that you would visit Gojo in his family home. After dinner, you’d sneak outside to his family garden to capture fireflies in paper lanterns.
That was a much different time of course. Since then, you’ve been arranged to be married, broken up and begun precariously seeing each other again after ten years.
“Why are you wading around in the darkness?” he asks, sitting on a pile of rocks, his hands inside his pockets.
Neither of you are really kids anymore, but your fondness for fireflies remains. On your occasional stays in Jujutsu Tech for your sorcery job, you like to spend your down time in the gardens at night.
“I need a break from people.” you comment succinctly.
You’re both quiet from a moment. Gojo becomes too impatient for you to start the conversation.
“So what did the doctor say?” Curiosity overcame him.
You lower your lantern by your side, making sure to face away from him as you reply, “She tried to ask if I was married and if my family knew.”
You turn around quickly, waving your hands before he can react, “You don’t need to worry. I’m considering not keeping it...it’s too much time and work…and it made me think about us. I think we should just end things…whatever this is.”
Gojo knew that this day would come. Deep down, he already prepared himself for when your relationship would end. Yet instead of acceptance, indignance rises in his chest.
“How could you let me go so easily? How are you done with us?” he finds himself saying.
He knew his disinterest in monogamy would come to bite him back someday, but he hadn’t imagined himself in a deeply romantic and emotional relationship with you when it happened.
You shake your head. The sounds of crickets and cicadas keep the silences from being too empty.
“Every year I used to wait to see if this was the year we reconciled. If this was the year we would fix things, not necessarily be lovers, but to just be back in each other's lives.” You look to the stars, sitting in a large rock beside him, “I waited maybe 11 years to see it happen even if I didn’t know if it would come at all. And I can wait another lifetime to try again. But I think in this life, our time has to end. This isn’t going to work out, Satoru.”
Gojo feels as if his lungs will collapse. It hurts him even more to know that you do love him but you’d rather he be out of your life.
“Why would you wait another lifetime for me when I’m here now?” he murmurs.
“I can’t have you to myself.” you say simply, “I can’t take this anymore. Even if I’m not pregnant, I want to be the only one in your life.”
“You are the most important person in my life.” he grabs your hand to reassure you. You don’t resist.
You face him, tears running down your eyes, “Then I don’t understand how you can say that and still need someone else.”
Gojo feels his chest crushed with heaviness. The weight spreads to his back, his arms and neck. For the first time in years, he feels helpless.
“We knew this was coming.” you mutter, pulling your hand away to make your exit out of the garden.
Gojo does not chase after you. He notices his bandages are wet.
————————————————————————
Gojo walks around in a daze for the next few days. People always say that he is a man who has everything, but for now he is the man with only questions without answers.
How can he make you stay?
“Gojo,” Utahime nudge, “GOJO!”
She sharply jabs a finger by his side to bring him back to reality. He jerks back, accidentally hitting the wooden walls of the hallway with a resounding thud.
“Are you even listening to me?” she hisses. He hasn’t been paying attention at the school meeting and her temper is rising. How can he go around doing the bare minimum and still be so praised. She was ready to throw a fit.
“Well…we’re kind of expecting…but we might not keep the baby…and ahh…” he uses his full concentration to string together his thoughts.
Utahime stops in her tracks and rubs her temples. Every other conversation she has with him always sends her reeling.
She crosses her arms together, “Let me guess, one of you wants to keep the kid and the other doesn’t?”
“OMIGOSH YES!” Gojo raises his hands as if someone finally gets him, “How did you know?!”
Utahime looks slightly alarmed at his expression. Protective of your privacy, she looks left and right to see if anybody is nearby. She shrugs.
Gojo continues, “These past few days have made me realize how badly I want a family with them. I really want this! Except it made them realize they want a family with someone else…and I’m not sure there’s anything I can do to make them feel the same way.”
His voice softens towards the end of his sentence as he slowly sinks back into his thoughts.
Utahime takes a moment before dispensing her bit of wisdom.
“Having a child with someone is an incredibly huge sacrifice. If you really want this…then you have to make a sacrifice equal in weight. Whatever that will be…” she sighs, adjusting her kimono. “And I have a feeling you haven’t properly explained to her what an open relationship is.”
She peers at him from the side of her eye. His guilty expression confirms her suspicions.
Every now and then, Utahime feels envious of his power. However, today is not one of those days. He has some hard choices to face she would not want to deal with.
——————————————————————
“Hey!”
A week after your last conversation, Gojo spots you in the school and immediately rushes towards you.
In panic, you shove yourself into an empty meeting room and try to shut the door. He jams his foot between the ledge and determinedly peers you from the door crack.
“Oh no, you are not shutting me out. We are going to talk like proper adults.” he insists.
Your instincts kick in. You kick his feet and push him back. You bolt the door shut and slump down behind it. You’re safe for now.
“You can’t keep running away.” he breathes out from the other side, “We need to talk.”
“There’s nothing to talk about,” you quickly rebut, “Gojo, I have no family. There’s no one to help me. I’m going to be alone if this kid comes out of me.”
Your voice fades hoarsely as you utter the last few words.
“You have me.” his soothes in a contemplative voice.
You want to laugh. This relationship was doomed from the start. You were such a masochist for even trying. You must have been consumed with your attraction to him.
Gojo was no different though— he couldn’t help himself. You both want each other too much and now you both were paying the price.
You shake your head, “You’ll just leave me when things get tough. I’m tired of cleaning after your mess. Why can’t you just let me have my way?”
Gojo has no time to be taken aback.
“Because I don’t want a family with anyone else. I’m desperate to make this work with you.” he pleads, “ Don’t push me away. I have my own doubts about myself, and I understand where you’re coming from but I wish you believed in me more.”
You pretend not to hear him.
“I’ll be here for you and our baby, even if it's not always romantic.” he adds, his voice pleading, “I know you’re terrified that I’ll just leave you but…”
You interrupt him by opening the door. As if on instinct he hides his vulnerability from you. His posture leans back coolly, waiting on your next move.
“Gojo, I’m just frustrated to always be at the mercy of your choices. Don’t you understand?”
His lips part slowly, “If you’re not ready for a family, it’s fine. But don't you want to make this last longer?”
——————————————————
“Oh, Satoru, what have we done?” you quietly murmur, staring at the ceiling of his room.
It’s your first night in his faculty dormitory. You’ve never really been before. His room is too close to the principal’s for a casual date night visit.
Gojo’s long switched off the lights but neither of you can sleep.
“What do you mean? The baby or the wedding?” he chuckles.
You shrug, “Both?”
You shift around the sheets, the linen ruffling under your movement.
He crosses his arms and turns to you, “Well, we’ve established that the first one was an accident. The wedding—well—it’s mostly so you and the baby will be under the protection of the Gojo clan.”
Gojo promised to close his open relationship status until your kid is one and you take his word for it. It is perplexing that the wedding was his idea too. However there was something about his sincerity that you could not refuse
“How long till we regret all this?” you half-murmur, half-sigh.
“Honestly, probably every time we hit a rough patch. But we’re not meant to always be happy anyways.” he sighs lying on his arm. It’s an honest enough answer.
You sit up and put your arms around your waist, “Such optimism you have there. So tell me, oh all powerful Satoru, why are we here then?”
“For me, it's to be able to find and meet you.” he says simply.
He catches you off guard with the tenderness of his words. You reach out to touch the side of his face and gently rub your thumb on his cheek. He presses your hand on his cheek.
“If things fell apart again and you had to wait another ten years for us to fix it, would you?”
He asks so quietly you almost don’t hear him.
Your face flushes under the cover of darkness.
“…Yes, I love you too much. This was never going to be just an arranged marriage for me even when we were younger…then again, I think you already know that.” you admit in a shaky whisper.
Now that you've married him, you've given yourself permission acknowledge your true feelings to yourself. You have always been in love with him. And being apart did not changed that.
Propping himself up by the elbow, you realize his face is so close to yours. You can almost feel the wisps of his long lashes on your cheek.
“I know this isn’t your ideal wedding, but this is more than just a shotgun marriage for me too. You are my fated. And you are the only being I want to go through this with—sorcerer, curse or otherwise.”
You try not to giggle at the mention of curses.
“Through this life and the next?” you said with a small smile.
“Through this life and the next.” he assures firmly, squeezing your hand.
You smile widely and he looks at you fondly. These are your favorite moments with him, when you’re at the brink of losing each other in your gazes.
Gojo breaks your shared reverie.
“Can you kiss me?” he grins cheekily, “As your new husband…”
You kiss his forehead without skipping a beat. He flips over, still propping himself by his stomach.
“So what shall we do on our wedding night? Try for twins?” he smirks.
You roll your eyes extra hard to make sure he sees it. Gojo only laughs.
He shuffles out of bed and tosses you your coat, “Well if you really can’t sleep, we might as well go out and see the fireflies. They look bright tonight.”
I wrote this as a follow up for another Gojo x reader fic who used to be engaged. Check out the other parts!
Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5 || Part 6 || Part 7 || Part 8
A/N: When I first wrote the original four chapters, I had already know that this was how the series would end (even though I didn't plan to write it all the way here). I don't know if I will continue writing. I have some extra material, but I don't really know if I'd like to write it out. If I ever make up my mind to do so, you will see me pop up in your notifs.
If not, I guess this is the end. if you've gone through all 8 chapters, thank you for joining me in this wild, heartfelt ride! Comment or message to be added to the taglist! Or write down some comments about your feelsssss
Series Taglist: @tokyo-love-hotel@samkysnks@herownescape@cherrianne192@shamelessdonutsludgebanana@kageyamakock@shirostrbl@luvang3l@cloudsinthecosmos@httpjungoo @saturnki @itstheee-ha-chan@gucci-froggy@soy1melk @dora-the-grownup @cherryonigiri @fiona782 @a--nonymousse @naturakaashi
If you’d like to continue being part of my taglist (JJK or Haikyuu), please let me know! I also write oneshots for both fandoms and soon I’ll be doing BSD too!
