─ kitty’

────୨ৎ────

─ ᴋɪᴛᴛʏ ⋆˚꩜｡ ┈ nsfw﹒20﹒she/her

hiii! this is a new blog so watch this space →

i'll be posting (semi-regularly) mostly jjk and some resident evil ᵔᴗᵔ

masterlist fic recs┊my favs mailbox ┊i wanna hear from you!

gojo tells you exactly what mahito is: he’s resentment and hatred given shape and a heartbeat. but you just cant shake what you saw him feel.

masterlist

word count: 1.2k

────୨ৎ────

it had been 2 weeks since your strange encounter with mahito. and it still haunted you.

even now, with you sprawled out on your bed in the same pjs, groaning into your pillow.

the sun spilled into your bedroom, but instead of lifting you gently awake like it had always done, it made your head pound and blood boil.

too bright.

too early.

with an irritated groan, you reached for the nearest object on your bedside table, fully prepared to launch it at the offending curtains.

only for a hand to catch your wrist halfway.

firm yet familiar.

"that's a lamp."

gojo's voice drifted through the room.

"and i know you love your sleep, but you'll regret that one"

"why are you in my room?" you snap as you let out a noise somewhere between a groan and a scream.

"well... me and everyone else haven't seen you for weeks, and i'm here to confirm you're still alive"

"unfortunately."

"yeah, see, that's not helping your case."

with a dramatic sigh, he dropped onto the edge of your bed.

the mattress dipped beneath his weight.

"what happened?"

"nothing happened."

"liar."

“come on, let’s make breakfast” he warmly suggested.

“i’m not hungry.”

Gojo raised an eyebrow. you can’t stand his judgemental face.

“fine,” you groan as you peel yourself out of bed, “i’ll get you some tea while you explain how you got in here,”

if you stayed in that room any longer, you were going to lose your mind.

"success!!" gojo pumped a fist into the air.

"i'm throwing you out of a window."

"after breakfast?"

"before."

he grinned.

somehow, the conversation followed you into the kitchen.

sunlight pooled across the countertops. the kettle hummed quietly and for a brief moment, everything felt normal.

you busied yourself with stirring your morning tea, grateful for something to do with your hands. across the kitchen, gojo sat on the island counter swinging his legs idly, watching you with the patience of someone waiting for the truth.

"so?"

you paused. "so what?"

"what happened?"

you sighed, because of course he wasn't letting it go.

"it was just a really long mission and..."

"and?"

"and i had the... weirdest interaction with a curse."

gojo raised an eyebrow. "yeah but you meet curses every week."

"this one was different." you sighed.

the words left before you could stop them.

immediately, gojo's expression changed. he looked more serious and attentive.

"different how?"

you struggled to find the words to say so you turned to face away from gojo as you continued:

"well he sort of touched me and-"

a snort from gojo cut you off. you whipped your head around to glare at him and his smile immediately dropped.

"sorry, go on"

"my technique activated when he grabbed me."

"ah."

gojo's expression tightened ever so slightly... as if he already disliked where this conversation was heading.

"and he felt it."

"they usually do."

"no."

you shook your head.

"he really felt it."

gojo frowned slightly.

across the kitchen island, he leaned forward.

"what do you mean?"

your stomach twisted.

because that was the part you couldn't stop thinking about.

the confusion on his face afterwards and the fascination.

the way he'd looked at you like you'd just shown him the answer to a question he'd been asking his entire life.

"he's a curse."

"i know."

"a dangerous one."

"i said i know." you huffed.

"then stop looking for humanity in places it doesn't exist."

the kitchen suddenly felt too small.

too bright.

you hated how easily he'd dissected thoughts you'd barely admitted to yourself.

gojo's expression softened.

which only annoyed you more.

"i think you're overthinking a curse that could’ve killed you."

a slice of toast launched from the toaster.

in one swift movement, you snatched it from the air and hurled it directly at gojo's head.

and of course he caught it.

"at least its not a lamp this time."

you snatched your jacket from the back of a chair.

"where are you going?"

"away."

"that's not a location."

"well why don't go back to geto's and have breakfast with him"

"y’know, most people would appreciate my concern-"

"most people don't break into my bedroom before breakfast."

"that's because most people don't spend two weeks spiralling over a curse."

silence.

because that one landed.

gojo's grin softened slightly. "look."

he set the toast down.

"whatever you think you saw..."

your jaw tightened immediately. "gojo."

"i'm serious."

for once, there wasn't a trace of humour in his voice.

"mahito isn't misunderstood."

the room suddenly felt smaller and quieter.

"he's a curse."

"i know."

"then stop thinking about him like he's some complex puzzle waiting to be solved."

you stared at him.

then grabbed your jacket.

"okay."

"okay?"

"okay, get out."

⸻

the woods had always been your favourite place.

long before jujutsu high and before dealing with curses became your full time job.

long before everything became so complicated.

whenever the world grew too loud, you came here.

beneath the trees and the tranquil birdsong.

protected by the endless canopy of green.

it usually helped.

today, it didn’t.

because no matter how far you walked

you couldn’t stop thinking about him.

him standing beneath the relentless downpour, one hand pressed against his patchworked chest.

rain soaked through his dark shirt until it clung to him completely, outlining the sharp planes of his frame and the lean muscle beneath.

pale blue hair hung heavy across his forehead, droplets sliding from the ends and tracing slow paths down the curve of his jaw.

he looked carved from something beautiful and dangerous.

like a statue abandoned to the storm.

with a frustrated sigh, you dropped your bag beside your favourite tree.

ancient roots twisted through the earth beneath you, thick enough to sit on comfortably. sunlight filtered through the leaves overhead, dappling everything gold and green.

for a moment, you simply sat there.

you tried so very hard not to think of him anymore. but the more you suppressed it, the more you felt yourself flush with annoyance and embarrassment.

you rest your head back against the solid tree behind you, gazing through the branches thinking hard - as you always did here.

when your first boyfriend broke your heart, you sat here wondering what you did wrong.

when you fell out with your friends, you hoped to find answers in the sound the wind made against the leaves.

you decided thinking about mahito wouldn’t be enough.

so you reached into your pocket and pulled out a small notepad you used to doodle or write in.

you needed an outlet. and you knew telling your friends at jj high wouldn’t end well. like gojo, they just wouldn’t get it.

so you find your hand moving in a rhythm against the pad, sketching out a familiar shape.

the scratch of graphite against paper settled something inside you.

your hand started moving automatically until after a while you froze looking down at the page.

long hair.

wide eyes and a crooked smile. a rain-soaked sharp frame.

it looked beautiful.

you’d almost captured the moment you’ve been reliving in your head for the past two weeks.

“that’s a pretty good likeness.”

every muscle in your body locked.

wind rustled through the leaves as your heart pounded so hard it threatened to burst out your throat.

because you knew that voice.

“you know, i’ve never had someone draw me before” he hummed thoughtfully.

tentatively, you tilted your head up towards the sky, your hair falling around your face.

and there he was.

perched comfortably on one of the tree branches overhead. like an innocent bird.

smiling down at you.

────୨ৎ────

authors note:

this was supposed to be a tiny drabble on mahito bc i rarely find fanfics of his character but im getting really into this now. i really hope you guys enjoy this!

and when it doesn’t work he brings yuji and todo along to help LOLLL

masterlist

cw; angst

word count; 1.1k

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the first thing mahito noticed about you was that you didn’t break correctly.

everyone broke eventually.

that was the beautiful thing about souls.

pull them apart.

stretch them.

twist them.

they always came undone.

every single one.

except yours.

his hand was still wrapped around your wrist when he realised it.

your cursed technique activated instinctively.

a violent surge of innate energy.

for one impossible second, your soul touched his.

and then

everything shattered.

warm sunlight.

the smell of summer.

laughter carried by the wind.

a hand squeezing yours.

someone saying your name.

the feeling of being loved so completely it made your chest ache.

so completely that losing it would destroy you.

and beneath it all…

fear.

the terrible, suffocating fear of losing something precious. the kind of fear that only existed because the love came first.

then just gone.

—

mahito released you immediately.

the memory shattered and he was back in the the alley with rainwater pooled beneath his shoes on the broken concrete.

distant sirens and traffic echoeing around you both.

you staggered backwards, breathing hard. waiting.

preparing yourself for the attack.

instead mahito just

stared.

for once, he wasn’t smiling.

his eyes were wide with childlike wonder and fascination.

“what was that?”

his voice sounded strange. it was quieter than before.

“you mean my cursed technique?” you frowned.

his gaze sharpened instantly.

“do it again.”

“what?”

“that.”

he pointed at you.

“do that again.”

you stared utterly confused. people usually hated your technique.

the sudden flood of emotion, vulnerability and loss of control.

mahito looked enchanted.

like he’d discovered a secret hidden beneath the world itself.

“it doesn’t work like that.”

“that’s unfortunate.”

his grin returned immediately.

bright yet dangerous.

you hated how excited he looked.

“what does it do?” he asked.

“you felt it.”

“i know.”

“thats all there is to it. pure emotion imprinted onto a soul from a powerful memory.”

mahito blinked.

“mahito… what are you doing?” you sighed.

silence followed as mahito tilted his head. examining you as he took in this information.

“you make people relive it?”

“no.” you shook your head. “they don’t see the memory.”

his smile slowly disappeared.

“they just feel it.”

the alley fell quiet.

”…they just feel it?”

for the first time since meeting him mahito went completely still.

not preparing to kill you, just… thinking.

the rain tapped softly against the pavement.

“so that feeling…”

his hand drifted absently to his chest.

”…that wasn’t mine.”

you almost laughed. “obviously. how could you have ever felt that?”

his hand remained pressed lightly against his chest as if he could still feel the remnants of it there.

the warmth.

the ache.

the love.

for once, mahito wasn’t smiling. he simply stood there beneath the rain, staring at nothing.

water clung to pale blue hair and slipped down the curve of his jaw, his long lashes casting shadows across features that looked almost delicate in the dim light.

almost human.

and somehow, that was the most unsettling part. because there was something strangely vulnerable about him then.

something open.

like he’d accidentally glimpsed a world he’d never been meant to see.

and for the first time since meeting him,

mahito looked touched.

genuinely touched.

not by you or the memory itself

but by the overwhelming weight of feeling.

as though he’d spent his entire life studying the ocean from the shore,

only to discover what it felt like to drown

a curse born from human hatred standing in an alleyway wondering why his chest still ached.

“interesting.”

the word left him quietly almost like it was only meant for himself.

then his gaze snapped back to yours.

sharp.

hungry.

and curious.

“you can touch souls.” he gasped out.

the way he said it sent a chill down your spine.

not as an accusation or as a threat.

but as pure admiration.

“you can actually touch them.”

a breathless laugh escaped him.

disbelieving.

“you know how long i’ve been looking for someone like you?”

you didn’t answer because something told you he wasn’t really asking.

mahito stepped forward delicately.

his eyes never left yours.

“i’ve touched thousands of souls.”

his smile softened gently and genuinely.

far more terrifying than any spine-chilling grin he’d given you before.

“nobody’s ever touched mine back.”

your stomach dropped because suddenly this wasn’t a fight anymore.

this was worse.

mahito wasn’t looking at you like prey. and he wasn’t looking at you like an enemy.

he wasn’t even looking at you like a person.

he was looking at you the way a child might look at a butterfly he’d never seen before.

something beautiful that he desperately wanted to understand.

and children were notorious for pulling the wings off things they loved.

“oh.” you choked out.

mahito’s eyes widened.

a new realization forming.

one that made your heart stop.

“can you feel mine?”

you froze. unsure of what to make of his request.

“what?”

“my soul.” he breathed out.

he smiled so hard it was impossible to look away whilst he was completely oblivious to how insane he sounded.

“if i touch you, can you feel mine too?”

the question lingered between you and you didn’t answer.

mahito watched you carefully.

then he smiled as he tapped his fingers gently on his face like he was working you out.

you opened your mouth to respond but nothing came out. your fingers tightened against your palm.

“you don’t know, do you?”

before you could respond, his hand closed around your wrist.

firm but not enough to hurt.

just enough to stop you from pulling away.

you feel your breath get caught in your throat as mahito’s gaze immediately dropped to where your skin met his.

fascinated.

like he’d forgotten everything else.

the rain dripped from pale blue strands of hair as he stepped closer.

close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath.

“you can feel everyone else’s,” he murmured.

his thumb brushed absentmindedly against your pulse.

“their grief. their love. their fear.”

his eyes lifted to yours.

bright, curious and yet unsettlingly sincere.

“so what’s wrong with mine?”

for the first time that evening, mahito looked genuinely frustrated.

like a puzzle refusing to solve itself.

“i’ve touched thousands of souls.” his voice dropped lower.

“why can’t you touch mine?”

the question was laced in disappointment as if he’d already decided you were the answer to something and now reality wasn’t cooperating.

his grip tightened ever so slightly.

“i want to know what it feels like.”

the confession left him before he could stop it:

“i want to know what i feel like.”

and suddenly you understood.

mahito wasn’t obsessed with your technique because it was powerful.

*⁀➷ satoru gojo (the strongest)

mini dabbles:

⤷ please don’t joke

⤷ pleasant surprise

⤷ the boundary

*⁀➷ mahito (controversial one)

mini dabbles:

⤷ touch me too

masterlist

cw: angst and more angst

────୨ৎ────

gojo always kissed your forehead like it meant nothing.

quick.

careless.

like it didn’t completely ruin you every single time.

“see ya,” he hummed easily, grabbing his coat from the couch - his lips brushed your forehead in passing warmth before he turned toward the door.

you stared at him in thought as something in you finally snapped. your heart aching and racing, trying to find the words:

“you can’t keep doing that.”

gojo paused.

“doing what?”

he was standing half-turned by the door, one hand still resting loosely against the handle. warm sunset light poured through the windows behind him, drenching everything gold.

it caught against white hair and pale skin and the sharp line of his jaw so unfairly beautifully that it almost made your chest ache.

you gulp as you let the trail of thoughts pass.

“that.” you snapped bitterly. “acting like we’re something when we’re not.”

the room went quiet immediately.

his hand slowly slipped from the doorknob.

“woah,” he breathed lightly. “where’s this coming from?” 

there it was. that tone.

playful.

careful.

like this was all still some harmless conversation he could smile his way through.

you hated it.  

“don’t,” you said quietly, the weight of everything finally sinking deeper into your gut. 

for once, gojo looked uncertain.

“don’t what?”

“don’t make it into a joke again gojo!”

the words hit harder than you intended.

you saw it immediately in his face.

that tiny shift.

small,

     but devastating.

gojo leaned against the door slowly, eyes fixed on you now, all serious.

finally.

“you think i’m joking?” he asked.

“i think you like keeping me close without actually having to mean anything.” you gasped out. 

his jaw tightened as he rubbed his neck. 

you pushed forward anyway.

because if you stopped now, you’d never say it.

“you flirt with me constantly. you touch me, kiss my forehead, look at me like…” your voice caught embarrassingly. “and then the second it gets too real, you laugh it off.”

gojo went completely still.

the usual brightness in him dimmed quietly.

“you wanna know why i’m always joking then running off?” he mused softly.

you didn’t answer.

gojo looked away for the first time that evening. 

toward the darkened window which spilled golden sunlight across the floor and across his perfect pale face.

toward the glowing city outside jujutsu high.

and suddenly he looked tired and no longer playful or untouchable.

“because this job ruins things,” he said quietly whilst stepping towards you. “people like me don’t really get normal relationships.”

you frowned slightly.

he kept talking before you could interrupt.

“missions, curses, disappearing for days at a time…” he laughed under his breath. “i’m not exactly boyfriend material.”

except this laugh sounded forced.

and almost rehearsed like he’d told himself this a thousand times already.

you stared at him silently because something about it didn’t feel honest.

    not completely.

“that’s not the real reason,” you said softly.

gojo froze. his expression shifted almost imperceptibly.

and there it was. 

     finally.

you stepped closer slowly.

“you hide behind jujutsu high because it sounds better than admitting you’re scared.”

the air between you turned painfully still.

for once, satoru gojo had no immediate response.

his eyes stayed fixed on you, unreadable beneath the dim lighting.

then he smiled.

soft and yet so pained.

“you’re annoyingly observant, y’know that?”

your chest tightened - because suddenly he looked younger somehow.

not the strongest sorcerer alive.

not the cocky teacher everyone knew.

just a man who didn’t know how to let someone love him without waiting for it to disappear.

gojo exhaled quietly through his nose.

“commitment means,” he paused briefly, searching for the words, “eventually giving someone enough of you that they could really hurt you.”

his voice stayed light like he was still trying to soften the impact of his own honesty.

“and i think somewhere along the way,” he murmured, “i convinced myself it’d be smarter not to let anyone get that close.”

a long silence and almost an inch separated both your faces.

his hand gently rose to your chin as he tilted it up to meet your eyes even closer. his breath warm against your lips. 

his eyes a saturated blue. unguarded. 

cw: fluff. and a touch of yearning.

────୨ৎ────

the lazy smiles,

the lingering touches,

the way he leaned too close when he talked like personal space had simply never applied to him.

you tried not to think too deeply about it.

because if you did, you’d start wanting things you probably shouldn’t.

but you couldn’t help it - not with him sitting so close to you that you can hear his soft, controlled breaths.

“you’re staring again,” he mused.

his blindfold had been pushed up messily into his hair, revealing those impossible blue eyes already fixed on you knowingly.

“maybe because you keep talking during the movie.”

“multitasking,” he corrected proudly, mouth full of candy.

you snorted.

the late-night glow of the apartment softened everything around him: silver hair, long limbs stretched across your couch, the faint sheen of city lights against his skin.

pretty.

so painfully pretty.

gojo suddenly held out the last gummy worm toward you.

“here,” he sighed. “because i’m generous. and because you’ve been eyeing up my snacks all night,”

“satoru,” you laughed quietly, taking it from his delicate fingers. “you’re so sweet. i love it.”

the words slipped out naturally.

but the second they landed, something shifted.

his smile faltered.

just slightly.

small enough that anyone else probably wouldn’t have noticed.

you did.

gojo stared at you for a moment too long before looking away toward the flickering television.

“don’t say stuff like that so easily,” he murmured.

the teasing in his voice had disappeared completely.

your chest tightened a little.

“say what?”

he leaned back against the couch slowly, eyes half-lidded now, thoughtful in a way that almost looked dangerous.

“that you love things about me.”

quiet.

the movie continued playing pointlessly in the background.

you swallowed.

“i didn’t mean to-”

“i know,” he interrupted softly.

that somehow felt worse.

because for once, satoru gojo wasn’t smiling like he could joke his way out of the conversation.

he looked almost solemn - like he was holding something heavy behind his teeth.

his gaze drifted back toward you again, unbearably intense beneath the dim apartment lighting.

“you say things like that,” he said quietly, “and i start thinking maybe i actually have a chance with you.”

the air left your lungs completely and you struggled to find the words to respond to that vulnerable confession with.

and then

that stupid grin returned.

slowly.

crooked.

beautiful.

fluff, cutesy bf gojo being so excited to see you and show you off ⤸

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

you didn't really know what to expect visiting gojo at Jujutsu High for the first time:

alarms blaring,

satoru struggling to control a class,

or maybe even students flying through windows.

your mind raced with all sorts of scenarios.

Instead, you found sleepy hallways flooded with soft afternoon sunlight and the distant sound of maki yelling during training.

you stand awkwardly outside one of the classrooms clutching the convenience store bag you’d brought him:

sweet coffee, strawberry mochi, and the silly gummy candy he loved.

one of the students spotted you first.

a scruffy and curious boy with cotton pink hair.

“oh,” he blinked. “you’re Gojo-sensei’s- ”

before he could finish, a familiar voice echoed down the hall.

“sweetheart?”

his voice softened instantly at the sight of you.

even from across the hall, Satoru Gojo stood out impossibly against everything around him

tall and untouchable, white hair glowing beneath the afternoon sun like fresh snow, dark uniform hanging loosely off broad shoulders.

there was something unfairly beautiful about him; the kind that made the entire world turn dull the second he caught your eye.

“you came here?” he smiled uncontrollably, rushing towards you.

for once, Satoru Gojo looked completely caught off guard.

not teasing. not cocky.

just… so surprised.

“you actually came to see me?” he asked, grinning so hard it almost looked boyish.

“is that weird?”, you laughed nervously, squeezing your grip on the bag as you blush.

“weird?” he said, pulling a face.

he stepped closer to you, taking the bag from your hands with one hand while the other wrapped around your waist immediately.

the warmth radiating from him hit you like a giant sun-ray.

“baby, I’ve been trying so hard to get you to visit for months.” he laughed.

the pink-haired boy and his friends, who have now gathered around, made exaggerated gagging noises.

Gojo ignored all of them.

“you brought me snacks too?” he gasped dramatically, peeking into the bag. “oh my god, y/n. we’re getting married.”

“yeah well, you said that last time I bought you coffee.” you snorted.

“and I meant it last time too.”

you rolled your eyes, but he only pulled you closer, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead like he couldn’t help himself.

the strongest sorcerer in the world looked delicately soft holding your hand in the middle of the hallway, holding you as close to him as possible like you might slip away at any given moment.

he was beaming the whole day, showing you around and excitedly showing you off to everyone like you were a prize he's been dying to brag about

you’d never seen him smile like that before.