đ˛Öź. Cher âš She/her âš 18+ blog âš Procrastinator âš JJK âš N/sfw âš Satoru Gojo enthusiast .đ˘
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More about me
⌠This blog is merely a hobby to me, a way to share my thoughts and writing. I work, go to school and have a social lifeâhence I mostly wonât post regularly. Updates may be a long wait.
⌠Requests will be closed until further notice: I am currently working on my first series. Donât expect requests to be open until its debut.
⌠Hereâs what I will not write: Noncon, stepcest, graphic descriptions of violence/gore, omegaverse, minors, list goes on and on. Use your common sense when interacting.
⌠Be kind and respectful! Keep it peaceful over here. Any hate will not be tolerated. You will be blocked.
⌠My writing is mostly self-indulgent. All my work will be fempov.
⌠I will also mostly write for Satoru, though when I eventually open requests, Iâll see no problem writing for other JJK characters.
If you remember these things when interacting with my blog, we'll get along great!
@satorubby4 please do not copy or feed my work to ai.
A/n: Redid my intro! I like it much better this way:3
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Synopsis: Satoru always forgets his lunch. This time, you grace him with your presence. Ohâhe also has an habit of falling asleep on his desk.
Professor Gojo has three degrees, two research grants, a handful of teaching awards, and a PhD he never lets anyone forget about.
None of that stops him from forgetting the lunch you pack him every single morning.
Which is how you find yourself carrying a bento across campus.
The evening sun is warm against your skin, painting the walkways gold as you make your way toward the faculty building.
You donât bother knocking, simply twisting the handle and stepping inside, letting the door click shut softly behind you.
Satoru is asleep at his desk.
His face is practically buried in a stack of essays, glasses hanging crooked on his nose, a red pen still trapped between ink-stained fingers.
You instinctively hold your breath and tiptoe closer, setting the bento down before leaning in slightly to inspect him.
He looks unfairly pretty like this.
Carefully, you slide his glasses from his face. His nose scrunches. A sleepy protest leaves him, barely more than a mumble. The sight nearly makes you laugh.
Then you take the pen from his fingers and set it back in its place.
When you look back down, one bright blue eye is cracked open.
âHi,â you whisper, unable to stop smiling.
The corner of his mouth twitches. âHi yourself.â His voice is rough with sleep.
Before he can properly wake, one arm reaches blindly for you. The second his fingers find your waist, youâre pulled forward with no warning at all.
A surprised laugh slips out as he tugs you into his lap.
âSatoruââ
A sleepy hum is your only warning before he buries his face against your neck.
Then come the kissesâbarely-there presses along your jaw. The kind he gives without thinking.
âWhatâre you doing here?â he murmurs against your skin. âItâs late.â
You squirm when another kiss lands just below your ear.
âSomeone I know forgot the lunch I packed for him.â
âHm.â
Another kiss.
âTragic.â
âIt's like you do it on purpose.â
âMaybe.â Too quick. Way too quick.
You pull back just enough to look at him. Heâs grinning, completely unashamed.
âHm. Sorry, angel.â
Neither of you believe him for a second.
With a raised brow, you reach for the bento and open it. The second the lid lifts, his eyes practically roll back.
âOh, thank God. Sushi? Iâm being spoiled today,â Satoru says, already watching you dig through your bag for chopsticks.
âFeed me,â he adds.
âNo.â
âBut I worked all day.â
âYouâre grown.â
âIâve suffered enough.â
You sigh anyway, snapping the chopsticks apart before picking up a piece of sushi. He opens his mouth automatically when you hold it out.
âYou look pretty in this dress,â he says around a mouthful.
You glance down. âReally?â
âMhm.â
His thumb drags slow circles against your hip.
âI mean, youâre pretty all the time.â
Heat rises in your cheeks. Years together, and he still catches you like this. Still says things so casually they linger in your head long after.
Satoru watches it happen, clearly entertained.
âIt really suits you,â he adds.
His gaze drifts over you, soft, adoring. Like youâre the best part of his day.
âThank you,â you mumble.
He swallows and accepts the next bite you offer him.
Eventually, the bento is empty.
You snap the lid shut and set it aside on the crowded corner of his desk, careful not to disturb the fragile mountain of essays threatening to collapse.
Satoru, meanwhile, looks entirely unbothered by any of it.
At some point, heâd tucked himself back into your neck. Now heâs completely hidden there, one arm wrapped around your waist, the other resting lazily across your thighs, keeping you firmly in his lap.
Not that youâre trying to move.
âYou know,â you murmur, fingers slipping into the soft white strands at the nape of his neck, âmost professors actually grade their papers.â
âMhm.â
âThey donât usually nap on them.â
âMhm.â
You smile. âSatoru.â
âI heard you,â he says, muffled against your skin.
For a moment, neither of you move.
The golden light has softened, stretching across the desk in long quiet lines.
Satoru sighsâthe kind that comes after a very long dayâand some of the tension in his shoulders finally eases.
When you tilt his chin up, he goes easily. His blue eyes meet yours. Sleepy. Warm. Completely yours.
His nose brushes yours once, then againâan old habit neither of you ever comment on.
Then he smiles. Not the grin he gives when he successfully proves a point or the smirk he uses when heâs being unbearable. Something gentle that only ever belongs to you.
His hand slides higher along your back as he leans in.
The kiss is slow and unhurried, like he has nowhere else to be. Like thereâs nothing else in the world worth paying attention to.
You melt into him instantly. You always do.
A soft hum leaves him when your fingers thread into his hair, and he pulls you closer despite there being no space left between you.
When he finally pulls back, itâs only by a fraction.
His forehead stays against yours.
âStay while I finish grading these?â he asks quietly.
You glance at the essays. Then back at him. The hope on his face is almost laughable for a man his age.
âI wonât be long,â he adds.
You smile. As if you were ever going anywhere.
WC: â1.3k
A/n: this didnât turn out how I imagined it but we ball :3 he is so sweet I love him
Frat president!Gojo x Reader â (WIP!)
After scraping together every yen you could save, you finally move to Tokyo for your sophomore year of college. Your cousin, Haibara, wastes no time dragging you into his social life, starting with a frat party on your very first night. There, you're introduced to his close-knit friend groupâyour roommate, a few new faces, and one particularly irritating frat president who seems far too entertained by you.
DRABBLES
Professor!Gojo x Reader
Content: Established relationship, fluff, Satoru wears glasses, Satoru is a sweetheart
⌠More coming soon!
@satorubby4 please do not copy or feed my work to ai
summary ⸺ dearest gentle reader, a new season is upon us as the ton gets ready for a season filled with drama, heartbreak, and passion. after being crowned diamond of the season, duke gojo⸺only looking to marry just to secure his inheritance⸺has his sights set on you, the easiest (and most obvious) option. later, when you catch his saying unsavory things about you on a terrace when he least suspected it, you swear to never marry gojo. as london's fashionable set goes through yet another wedding season, will there be hope for scandalous gossip, hate, and thinly veiled insults, or will we witness blooming love and passion?
warnings ⸺ nsfw, enemies to lovers, bridgerton au, angst, fluff, SUGGESTIVE, eventual smut, jealousy, misogyny, description of injury, concussion, blood, regency era au, gojo being infuriating, reader also being infuriating, both of them are clueless honestly
chapter summary ⸺ you are bedridden, recovering from your wound, when gojo delivers season-changing news. the house party that follows buzzes with tension, and an unexpected arrival that sends ripples through the ton (7.4k)
a/n thank you as always to the pooks @/sinn-clair for beta reading this <333 i'll see you after the chapter is over!
prev. the fall | next. the rebound
general masterlist | series masterlist
Gentle Reader,
One query occupies this Author's mind, be it ladies or mamas alikeâwhat exactly are Miss Itadori and Lord Gojo up to in the countryside? Perhaps a trifling dalliance of hearts, or will the ton bear witness to a scandal uncovered when they arrive for the house party? After having arrived a week earlyâand positioned as the diamond of the seasonâone must guess that if all goes well and Miss Itadori plays her cards right, she will be showing off her new surely lavish diamond engagement ring. Yet, she must take great care, for to err in this delicate matter would be to jeopardize a most significant match with Lord Gojo. Only time shall tell the outcome of this intrigue.
⸝ LADY WHISTLEDOWNâS SOCIETY PAPERS
Upon waking, the physician informed you that you had been unconscious for some days. Though no immediate danger threatened you, it had been long enough to send both families into a state of great disquiet. It seemed that even before youâd regained full awareness, a servantâwho had gasped upon hearing your feeble request for waterâhad swiftly spread the news, for not a moment later Yuji burst into the room.
âSISTER!â he exclaims, hurtling his way towards you with heavy steps. You flinch in your position on the bed at the sound of his loud voice. âYou are awake! Mama seemed like she would faint, Choso had almost popped a bloody vein, he looked like he was about to challenge Lord Gojo to a duelââ
âYuji! My dear,â you had to shout, interrupting the boyâs ramblings, giving him an uneasy smile. âLower your volume, please. I might faint back into unconsciousness due to the strain, and this time you will be the one dueling Choso.â
The pout Yuji adopts is akin to a chastened hound as he grabs a chair to sit next to you. You take this moment to surveil your surroundings, now with a clear headedness granted to you that hadnât been granted before. There were fresh flowers adorning a vase on the table on your bedside, and you seemed to be wearing a shift, cleaned and changed out of your dirty and mud-ridden dress. There was a gauze surrounding your head, and you could feel some similar cloth on your ankle.
You turned to your brother. âNow then, what were you saying?â
He perks up. âWell, youâve been in quite a state, dear sister! Itâs not every day youâre injured before breaking fast. Choso practically spat his tea when he heard! And, of course, Duchess Gojo has been endlessly apologetic. Between Mama, Choso, and me, weâve all been in quite a state. I daresay youâre hardly known for clumsinessâalthough you do have your moments on horseback.â At the memories seemingly pooling themselves in his mind, Yuji sniggers while you shoot him a look to not be testy. âAnd Gojo has been nothing short of attentive. No doubt the manâs come in to change your flowers more than the doctorâs visited you. Heâs so caring, he even cares for a worm like you!âÂ
You ignore Yujiâs jab, instead forcing yourself not to be gripped by the fact that Gojo had been soâŚattentive to you. Of course, it was as an indirect result of his sheer vexing nature that you were bedridden in such a manner, so it should not set your heart aflutter like a foolish girl. But your traitorous heart seems to hate listening to reason.Â
You begin to nod slowly. âAnd how many days have I been out? When is the house party?â Taking a gander at the windows in the room you were situated in, you could see the moon and starâs light filtering the curtains. You werenât sure if it was the evening or night or completely early in the morning.
He looks up to the ceiling, as if calculating something, brows furrowed. âToday.â
Groaning, you put your head in your hands, playing with your hair as it falls through the gaps of your fingers. âMother is going to kill me.â
âOh, indeed,â Yuji replied with a hum, stretching his arms in a cat-like yawn. âNow, I must get back to my rest. The servants were gossiping near my door, so I thought Iâd see for myself that you werenât dead.â He kissed you on the cheek before heading to the door. âSleep, sister, for I expect Mama will tire you endlessly come morning.â
Later, a gentle nudge at your arm and a few soft âMiss! Wake up!ââs roused you from sleep. You opened your eyes to find a maid hunched over you, relief clear in her expression as you met her gaze with a drowsy squint. âMiss, Lord Gojo requests your presence. May I allow him in?â
With a nod, you fought off your annoyance at having been disturbed. The maid, visibly flustered, hurried to admit Gojo, who soon approached with quiet footsteps. As you propped yourself up, arms crossed, you gave him a mildly reproachful look. âGojo, youâve roused me from my slumber. I trust this is a matter of utmost importanceâ-â you began, then trailed off as you took in his expression.
He was taut, as though his very sinews were wound tight. Standing rigidly, his jaw clenched, his gaze flitted everywhere but to you. Troubled, you tried, âGojo?â
At the sound of his name, he looked sharply at you and seemed to gather himself. âAh⌠forgive me.â He took a seat and smiled, though it didnât reach his eyes, artificial. âHow is your recovery?â
You eye him suspiciously. His leg is moving up and down anxiously, the action minute in a way that makes you think heâs not aware of doing it. The tight and strained smile on his face seems uncanny, his concern seeming out of place. âWell, as much as it can be for me bleeding out pints and pints of blood from my head,â at that, you note that he subtly flinches, âbut all is well!â You spread out your arms and give him a dazzling smile, and his eyes follow. âIâm sure my mama and my maid are itching to rush in here to prepare me for the house party.â Giving him a playful glare, you continue, âAnd just for the pain you caused me, you ought to have two dances and a few pastries prepared tonight.â
At that, he looks at you for a quick glance before quickly turning away, seemingly collecting himself. In what you could observe in his previous expression, you were surprised to see yearning present in his blue eyes, filled with feelings that perplexed you. Gojo was acting very odd.
Then, he drew in a measured breath, his jaw clenched as if bracing himself for what he was about to say. He finally looked at you, a shadowed intensity in his gaze that made your heart beat fasterânot in the way it used to when his eyes sparked with wit, but with a sense of foreboding.
"Miss Itadori," he began, his voice lower, lacking the familiar, teasing cadence. "I must apologize for the trouble I have brought upon you. I was⌠heedless, perhaps even reckless, and it seems I have caused you nothing but suffering."
You frowned, confusion beginning to bubble beneath the surface as he paused, clearly struggling to continue. He seemed almost pitiable, looking down at his hands, which were tightly woven together, his knuckles pale. But pity was not a feeling you had patience for. Not now. Not with Gojo of all people.
"Trouble?" you repeated, folding your arms. "I do believe that's an understatement, my lord. A mere misstep, surely?"
His eyes flicked back to yours, the corner of his mouth tugging in a grim semblance of a smile. "Understatement or not, it remains the truth," he replied, his voice nearly a murmur. "I cannot in good conscience continue this⌠attachment we have formed. The position of courtship our mamas have placed us in. For I fear it is you who stands to lose most dearly if I remain by your side."
You stiffened, his words crashing over you like a cold wave. "Attachment?" you said, bitterness coloring the word. "Do not dress it up with such kind words, Lord Gojo. An attachment is something formed with care, with respectâqualities you seem to find inconvenient."
He winced but did not break eye contact. "I will not argue with you," he said softly, voice steady in its regret. "Perhaps I am no master of attachments, nor have I ever claimed to be. But know that I had never wished to see you harmedâ"
"Harmed?" you interrupted, your voice growing louder as anger swelled within you. "Is this some twisted apology, then? A show of remorse for the inconvenience of your whims?"
Gojo opened his mouth to respond, but you did not allow him the chance.
"How very noble of you, Lord Gojo," you continued, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "After all this time, to simply say, 'Forgive me; I shall now remove myself from your life,' as if that makes up for the chaos youâve brought upon me? As if I am but a pawn to be moved at your discretion?"
His face softened slightly, as if he were seeing something in you he hadn't fully expectedâa quiet resolve beneath your anger, a dignity that refused to be bruised. "No, Miss Itadori," he said quietly. "I do not wish to see you as a pawn. After all, from what I understand is that you do not know what you desireâand I would only be exploiting that. I only⌠I only wish to relieve you of the burdens I seem to bring."
You laughed, the sound bitter and laced with fury. "Know what I want? As if you do, dropping pretenses with commoners and putting on your mask for the ton. And relieve me? I donât think you understand what it is youâve done, Gojo."
This conversation was dangerous. The emotions you hid under the air of nonchalance were steadily bubbling up, and it seemed that now, your sentiments were threatening to boil over at the sheer audacity of Gojo breaking off this arrangement, of what the ton would think today if he were to be avoiding you like the plague.
He flinched at the sound of his name on your lips, spoken with such venom. A muscle in his jaw ticked, but he made no move to respond, simply watched as you gathered your thoughts, your gaze piercing.
"All this time," you said, each word sharper than the last, "I was led to believe there was something more to your attentions. And now, you simply wash your hands of it? You think yourself a gentleman for doing so?"
"Miss Itadori," he said, his voice strained. "I amâ"
"You are a coward," you spat, and his eyes widened, the faintest hint of pain flashing in their depths. "Yes, thatâs right. A coward, for trying to protect yourself under the guise of protecting me. All this talk of 'relieving me'âdo not act as if your decision was made out of kindness." (a/n: OH NO SHE DIDNTTTTT)
"Do you not understand?" he interjected, a sudden fierceness in his voice, his composure beginning to slip. "This is not some petty whim, nor a game. My intentions⌠they were never meant to bring you harm, but they did. And I cannot bear to see it continue."
"Bear to see it continue?" you repeated incredulously. "Do you think I am some doll, some trifle to discard at your convenience?"
"That was never my intent!" he exclaimed, voice rising in frustration. "If you would but see reasonâ"
"Reason? From you?" you laughed bitterly, barely able to contain the fury welling up inside you. "Your idea of reason is nothing more than self-preservation, Lord Gojo. How convenient it must be to absolve yourself of guilt by deciding I am better off without you."
He fell silent, the anger in his face ebbing, replaced by a kind of desperation. "You do not understand," he said, quieter, almost pleading. "If I were to stay⌠if I were to court you in earnest, it would not be the life you think it to be."
"Then let that be my choice to make," you shot back, crossing your arms. "But noâthis is not about my well-being, not truly. It is about you, Gojo. It has always been about you."
A tense silence stretched between you, filled only by the soft, uneven breaths that escaped both of you. For a moment, neither dared to speak, both caught in the tangled emotions that hung thick in the air.
Finally, Gojo looked down, his eyes shuttered, his voice weary. "Then hate me, if you must. But I am done with this charade."
"Hate you?" you repeated, the word tasting strange on your tongue. "No, Lord Gojo. Hatred would imply I care enough to feel anything toward you."
Your entire body seethed with fury, every muscle trembling with the strain of keeping yourself upright, sitting on your bed. You couldn't storm outânot with your wounded leg refusing to bear even a fraction of the anger swelling within you. Instead, you pushed yourself up on shaking arms, glaring at him with such venom that he instinctively stepped back.
"Get out," you spat, the words laced with ice, your voice rising as if to fill the entire room. "Out! Now, Gojoâleave me this instant!"
He froze, his shoulders tense as he looked at you with something unreadable, but he made no move toward the door.
"I said leave!" you shriekedâyour voice shrillâthe strain of it making you nearly lose balance, but you didn't care. Hot tears stung your eyes, and you bit them back, forcing yourself to breathe through the betrayal clawing at your chest. "Take your false apologies, your noble pretensions, and get out of my sight. Go, and never, ever darken my door again."
His mouth opened, as if he might say somethingâperhaps even something that might soothe the jagged edges of your heart. But your furious gaze dared him to try.
With a pained expression, he finally gave a nod, stepping back toward the door. He lingered for a moment, one last helpless look crossing his face before he turned away, leaving without another word.
The door clicked shut, and you were left alone, shaking with fury, your breath ragged. Your eyes were still on that door, your heart racing, as though expecting him to come back, to take it all back, to be the man you'd witnessed yesterday. But deep down, you knew he would not return.
The first glimmers of morning filtered through the heavy drapes as you stirred awake, still dazed from the events that had left you bedridden. The memories of Gojoâs departure settled heavily on your chest, like a stone dropped in a lake, rippling outward and disturbing any possibility of calm. Your mind drifted over the previous nightâs argument, replaying words, and then, with a cringe, the heated moments where you felt every last ounce of self-restraint slip from your grasp.
A small part of you reasoned that you may have been rashâthat your anger and hurt had overtaken good sense. After all, it was you who deemed your and Gojoâs match impossible. So why were you so hurt?
Before you could linger on these thoughts, there was a soft knock at your door.Â
"Come in," you murmured, propping yourself up gingerly.
What followed soft footsteps was Choso, his gaze warm and steady as he entered, carrying the ease of familiarity that only he could. As he approached, he pulled a chair beside your bed and gave a faint smile.
Choso stepped in quietly, his face softened by a rare smile as he approached. âAwake at last,â he said gently, taking a seat beside you with the care one might afford a delicate flower. "I was beginning to think you'd sleep through the entire house party."
He reached out, his hand resting on the crown of your head, fingers slipping through your hair in a soothing rhythm. The fondness in his touch eased the last of the stiffness in your frame, a balm against the soreness both physical and emotional.
âYou worry too much,â you muttered, allowing yourself to lean into the comfort he offered, your voice softening as his hand continued to gently scratch at your scalp.
âYou look better today,â he said softly, continuing his familiar, soothing rhythm with his fingers. âThough, Iâll admit, you gave us all quite a scare.â
You managed a small smile, feeling the tension in your shoulders ease slightly under his touch. âI suppose I was overdue for a bit of excitement,â you murmured, though the attempt at levity felt thin, even to your own ears.
Chosoâs hand stilled momentarily, and his gaze grew searching as he looked at you. âWhat truly happened yesterday?â he asked, his voice low with concern. âThereâs more here than an unfortunate fall, isnât there?â
You stiffened slightly, glancing away from him. âIt was nothing,â you replied, willing your tone to sound convincing. âJust⌠an ill-timed accident. Nothing to concern yourself with.â
But Choso was not so easily deterred. He watched you closely, his brow furrowing with worry. âYouâve always been a poor liar, sister,â he murmured. âIf something happened, you know you can tell me. I only want to understand.â
The quiet earnestness in his tone gnawed at you, and for a moment, you considered confiding in him. But the idea of revisiting last nightâs turmoil felt too raw, too immediate. âIâm fine, truly,â you insisted, meeting his gaze with as much steadiness as you could muster. âIt was⌠nothing that canât be mended with rest.â
Chosoâs gaze lingered on you, his fingers resuming their gentle tracing along your scalp as if that alone could soothe whatever burden you were carrying. âWell,â he finally said, his tone filled with fond exasperation, âI wonât press you. But I trust youâll speak of it when you feel you are ready.â
You gave a slight nod, grateful for his restraint. The quiet between you was comforting, grounding, as he continued his rhythmic motions, easing your thoughts in a way that words could not.
After a long moment, he broke the silence again, his tone lighter this time. âOn a more cheerful note,â he began, a faint smile playing on his lips, âyouâll have another visitor tomorrow.â
âOh?â you asked, raising an eyebrow, though a part of you already guessed who he meant.
âYes,â he confirmed, a knowing glint in his eye. âSukuna received word of your injury and set off at once. Heâll be here by morning.â
You let out a small breath, a mixture of relief and trepidation filling you. âTomorrow, then,â you repeated, feeling a hint of warmth at the thought. âIt seems my brothers cannot resist making a fuss.â
Choso chuckled, squeezing your hand gently. âItâs what weâre here for. And perhaps Sukunaâs presence will help you feel a bit more at ease during the house party. Heâll see to it that no one bothers you unduly.â
You couldnât help but smile at that, the thought of Sukunaâs reassuring, if overbearing, presence lifting your spirits slightly. âWell, at least thereâs that to look forward to,â you murmured, and, with a soft sigh, leaned back against your pillows, letting Chosoâs calming presence ease the lingering shadows of last nightâs ordeal, even if temporary.
For you had a beast of a social gathering to deal with today, the same one where the ton would descend upon the outcome of your match, ready to laugh at you: the house party.
âHe what?âÂ
You flinched, scowling as you clutched your ears. Nobaraâs shrill voice was not helping your recovery, nor were her rough combs through your hair; but alas, beauty has a price, and itâs one youâre reluctantly willing to pay. You oh-so terribly wanted to politely decline the formal invitation, but it seemed that the moment you woke, your mother was dead set on getting you ready for what she thought was your engagement party. Little did she know that her not so future in law had gotten rid of you as if you were a stray animal latched onto him, but who were you to burst her bubble?
Perhaps you ought to dread the inevitable fallout from your mother when the truth emerged, but you consoled yourself with the thought of drowning your sorrows in champagne tonight, delaying her wrath for at least a little while. Besides, the prospect of Sukunaâs impending arrival tomorrow brought you some comfort; his unruly nature often served as a distraction from your own troubles.
You sighed heavily, meeting Nobaraâs furious gaze in the mirror. âHe merely said he wished to absolve me of any trouble he had caused.â
âGood riddance!â Nobara shrieked, her hand furiously waving around the hair brush in a way that made you wary, for it would not be pleasant for it to make contact with your already tender head. âHe was never the one for you to pursue, for he lacks the honor of a true gentleman! And yetâoh, heavens!â She gestured at you accusingly with the brush, her tone turning sharp. âWhy, pray, do you appear so disheartened?â
You open your mouth immediately, indignant and expecting your wit, your usual ally, to conjure a response for you, only to be left open-mouthed when it came up short. Nobara seemed to sense your hesitance, opening her mouth to unleash yet another accusatory and reprimanding remark, but you quickly moved to fill your silence. âI suppose I am justâŚoffended that he dare reject me, the diamond. The ton will seize upon this dissolution with glee. They shall revel in my supposed failure, for it will be indicative of my failure to the Queen.â
Nobara arched a brow, her skeptical silence speaking volumes. She clearly wasnât convinced, and before she could level another charge against you, a knock sounded at the door.
âSister, are you decent?â
âEnter, Choso,â you called out, hastily adjusting the neckline of your pale pink gown and straightening the strand of pearls around your neck.
Nobara opened the door, though she made no attempt to soften her posture. The hairbrush remained firmly in her grasp, poised like a weapon, and Choso cast it a wary glance as he stepped inside. His presence brought a sense of calm, even as his expression betrayed some inner turmoil. He hesitated for a moment before moving to sit at the edge of your vanity, his gaze flickering between you and Nobara.
You narrowed your eyes, suspicious of his silence. âWell, brother? Out with it,â you urged, though your voice lacked its usual sharpness.
He sighed, clearly reluctant. âVery well,â he began. âPray, hear me out. You know I have never hidden my disapproval of Lord Gojo.â At the sound of that name, you flinched, though you quickly masked it with a curt nod. Choso continued nonetheless, his tone steady but earnest. âIn light of recent events, I have taken it upon myself to formâŚa contingency plan of sorts.â
Your curiosity was piqued, though Nobara snapped at you to sit still as she continued combing through your hair. âGo on,â you said, trying to sound nonchalant.
Choso leaned forward slightly, his voice lowering as though to ensure Nobara wouldnât interrupt. âI have had the pleasure of conversing at length with Duke Nanami.â
You arched a brow, intrigued despite yourself. âThe Duke Nanami?â
âYes,â Choso confirmed. âHe is an esteemed gentleman of considerable character, and, as fortune would have it, he is not currently pursuing anyone this season.â
Your lips parted, but no words came. Chosoâs intent was clear, and the weight of his proposition settled over you like an unexpected storm. Nobara, meanwhile, had stilled entirely, her hairbrush forgotten in her hand as she turned to gawk at your brother.
âIs this,â she began, her voice disbelieving, âyour solution to Gojoâs appalling behavior? To thrust her into the path of another?â
Choso shrugged, unbothered by her skepticism. âA better match by far, I would argue. The Duke has no such inclinations to trifling or dishonor.â
You sighed, leaning back as the tension in the room thickened. âAnd what makes you so certain the Duke would even entertain such an arrangement?â you asked, your voice tinged with a weariness you hadnât intended to show.
Choso gave you a small smile, his hand reaching out to pat your shoulder. âLeave that to me, dear sister. For now, focus on enduring tonightâs ordeal. Tomorrow, you may take comfort in Sukunaâs arrivalâand in the knowledge that your prospects are not as grim as they seem.â
You exhaled, unsure whether to feel gratitude or exasperation, as Choso rose from his seat. Whatever plans he had in motion, they would unfold in time. For now, you could only prepare yourself for the chaos that awaited.
Gojo had outdone himself. Truly, magnificently outdone himself.
From the moment you entered the house, your hand resting lightly on Chosoâs arm, the stares began. They werenât the polite glances reserved for new arrivals at such gatheringsâthese were sharp, lingering, and accompanied by a cacophony of whispers that only heightened your unease.
You straightened your back, chin held high, determined not to give any of them the satisfaction of seeing your discomfort. But it was impossible to ignore the way every eye seemed to follow you, every head turned to observe as you passed. Whatever it was that had stirred this interest, you were certain Gojo was at the heart of it.
Feeling the oppressive smog of stares, you knew where you could find solace: the drinks table, where you could down a flute of champagne alongside your stress. And right as you excuse yourself from Chosoâs hold, who is now looking in the general direction of some menâparticularly a gaggle of men that included Lord Geto and Duke Nanami, who were looking at something in the direction of the dance floor with interest. As you walk, you take in the scene: a beautiful chandelier, and red drapings and coverings embellished with gold, a bloody alternative to the Gojo icy blue. Youâre not sure why todayâs ensemble of colors didnât include blue, but you believe it is fitting for whatâs going to happen to you after this party is over and your mother finds out about the elephant in the room.Â
And as you glance longingly at the couples gliding across the floor, their movements synchronized with the lilting strains of the orchestra, your breath catches.
It is then that you see him.
Gojo Satoru is spinning a girl across the dance floor, his coat tails trailing like ribbons in the air. His lips move as he speaks, the tilt of his head paired with that too-familiar smirk. His partner laughs at something heâs said, a soft sound that reaches you even from this distance. You could almost identify herâthere is no debutante in the ton you have not cataloged, no rival whose dossier you do not possessâbut tonight, it does not matter. She is just a blur of chiffon and curls, another face in a sea of women enthralled by him.
Your chest tightens as you take in the scene, a memory unspooling unbidden.
Is this what your first dance with Gojo had looked like to others? Did you appear as enraptured as this girl, your steps as confident and sure beneath his lead? You remember his light touch at your back, his questions whispered so quietly you doubted even the orchestra could eavesdrop, his eyes full of a charm so practiced it felt like a spell cast just for you.
And yet now, the spell is broken.
He is steering herâsteering everythingâwith such ease that it almost makes you laugh. Were he not so infuriating, you might have admired his grace, the way he seamlessly dominates both the conversation and the dance. His amusement is evident in the quirk of his brow, the corners of his mouth curling with every word she utters, no doubt answering his questions with meek enthusiasm.
She is simple. You can tell from the way he looks at her, the way he pauses before replying as if translating his own thoughts into something digestible for her. The way she beams at himâunaware of how deeply he calculates every moveâis almost endearing. Almost.
He is drawing the same conclusions he did of you. Simple, lacking substance.Â
The thought leaves a sour taste in your mouth.Â
But then the girl laughs again, a little too loud, and Gojoâs expression flickers for just a secondâlong enough for you to notice. His smile tightens, his gaze sliding briefly across the room as though searching for something more stimulating. It is instinctual, this glance, and his head tilts in such a way that you know it will land on you if you linger a moment longer.
Your heart stutters in protest, your legs already moving.
Punch table. Right.
As you near it, you grab the closest drink and down it one sip, desperate for the cool of the liquid to calm both your throat and your heated mind, furious with thoughts and anxiety of those around you. And it was just as you begin to set down the cool glass that in your periphery comes the man who soon tests your resolve.
âMiss Itadori,â a voice drawled behind you, the unmistakable lilt of smugness weaving through it.
You turned, and there stood Naoya Zenâin, his grin as unctuous as ever. He bowed slightly, though the gesture felt more like mockery than courtesy. âI must say, you are positively radiant tonight.â
You inclined your head ever so slightly, each movement deliberate. âMr. Zenâin. How kind of you to say.â
He grinned, and the sight was unsettling, a serpent preparing to strike. âRadiant, yes. A pity Lord Gojo has finally come to his senses and moved on. I thought the two of you might actually prove interesting.â
Your stomach churned, but you kept your expression serene. âI fail to see how my affairs are of interest to you, Mr. Zenâin.â
âOh, but they are,â he said, stepping closer, his voice lowering as though he were sharing a confidantâs secret. âEveryone is watching, you know. Wondering why Lord Gojo isâŚotherwise occupied tonight.â He tilted his head, motioning discreetly toward the mantle, a few meters away, where Gojo stood, entertaining and welcoming another lady.
Your eyes betrayed you, flicking briefly in that direction. Gojoâs figure remained in your periphery, still close enough to notice but far enough to be unattainable. You tore your gaze away, unwilling to feed Naoyaâs glee.
Naoya leaned in, his tone growing more audacious. âQuite the spectacle, wouldnât you agree? Though perhaps itâs for the best. You have much to offer, Miss Itadoriâbreeding hips, for one.â
The words hit you like a slap, your mind reeling in fury and disbelief. Your breath hitched, but before you could muster a scathing retort, something else caught your attention.
Gojoâs hand, resting casually against the column, tightened into a fist. The movement was subtle, but unmistakableâa barely contained tension that you might have missed if you werenât already attuned to his every breath, his every twitch.
Still, you refused to look directly at him. Whatever he felt, it mattered not.
âMr. Zenâin,â you began, voice icy and measured, though the rage burned beneath the surface, âyour comments are as inappropriate as they are unwelcome. I suggestââ
âSister.â
Chosoâs voice interrupted like a lifeline thrown to a drowning sailor. You turned to see your older brother approaching, his expression calm but his eyes sharp as they darted between you and Naoya. He came to your side, his imposing presence creating an impenetrable wall between you and the unwelcome intruder.
âMr. Zenâin,â Choso greeted with a curt nod, his tone laced with a warning. âI trust youâll excuse my sister. She and I were just about to take a turn about the room.â
Naoyaâs grin faltered, but he recovered quickly, stepping back with a mocking bow. âOf course. Do enjoy your evening.â
Choso wasted no time, offering his arm to you. You took it gratefully, your legs unsteady as he guided you away from the scene and toward a quieter corner of the ballroom.
âAre you all right?â he asked softly, his voice gentle but firm, as though bracing himself for a truth he might not like.
You nodded, though the words escaped you. Your hands trembled slightly, and Choso placed his over yours, steadying you. âI saw the way you looked,â he murmured, his voice quieter now. âAt Lord Gojo.â
Your breath caught, but you said nothing, focusing instead on the steady rhythm of your brotherâs steps.
âWhatever heâs doneâor hasnât doneâyou are worth far more than his regard,â Choso continued, his tone resolute. âDo not forget that.â A pause. âAre you all right, Sister?â
âI am fine,â you lied, though your trembling hands betrayed you.
The evening only worsened from there.
More and more, you felt the weight of curious glances, the whispers growing louder as the night wore on. The absence of Gojoâs attention did not go unnoticedâleast of all by your mother, who approached you and Choso with a determined expression, her fan snapping shut with a sharp flick of her wrist.
The warmth of the ballroomâs lights could not thaw the ice that slipped down your spine as your mother approached. Her movements were poised as ever, but the tightness in her lips and the fury barely hidden in her eyes told you everything. She stopped just short of you, her fan snapping shut with a sharp click that made you flinch.
âExplain,â she hissed, her voice low enough to avoid drawing the attention of onlookers but sharp enough to carve into you.
Your breath caught in your throat. You glanced towards Choso for reinforcement, but his furrowed brow and subtle shake of his head told you he would not interveneânot yet.
âI⌠donât understand, Mother,â you murmured, though the words tasted hollow even as you said them.
âDo not toy with me, child,â she snapped, her tone still hushed but more cutting. âThe entire room is whispering. Where is Lord Gojo? Why has he not so much as glanced in your direction tonight? Why is heââ Her eyes darted to the waltz floor, where Gojo had just excused himself from yet another partner. âWhy is he dancing with others while you stand here like a forgotten debutante?â
The words hit like a slap, and you flinched again, your gaze falling to your gloved hands. You wanted to speak, to explain, but the lump in your throat grew larger with every second.
Her voice softened but grew no less fierce. âWhat have you done?â
Your chest tightened, and for a fleeting moment, you considered telling her everythingâabout the garden, about Gojoâs words, about how utterly humiliated you had felt. But then the heat of the ballroom pressed down on you, the glances from curious onlookers prickling your skin like needles.
You couldnât. Not here.
So, you said nothing.
The silence between you stretched thin, your motherâs patience fraying with every passing moment. Finally, she straightened, her lips pressed into a pale line. âThis is how you repay all that has been done for you?â she whispered, her voice trembling with restrained fury. âDo you even comprehend what this will do to your prospects? To this family? You have disgraced yourself, and worseâyou have disgraced me.â
Her words left you hollow, the guilt settling into the spaces where indignation might have taken root. Still, you could not look up, nor could you summon any defense.
Your motherâs fan snapped open again with a sharp flick, the motion more violent than graceful. âWe are leaving,â she declared, turning abruptly on her heel. âNow.â
Choso stepped closer, his hand brushing lightly against your elbow as if to steady you. You dared a glance at him, finding his gaze steady and quietly supportive. It was only his presence that kept your legs moving as you followed your mother toward the grand doors.
The weight of the roomâs collective gaze bore down on you with every step. The music swelled in the background, mocking you with its cheerfulness. As you neared the exit, your feet faltered.
And then you saw him.
Gojo.
He stood near the edge of the dance floor, his posture uncharacteristically tense, his jaw clenched tightly, his usual easy confidence dimmed. His head tilted slightly, his eyes cutting through the crowd to meet yours.
Your breath hitched. In his gaze, you saw regretâyearning, evenâand something else you couldnât quite name.
But it didnât matter.
You tore your eyes away, your jaw tightening as a steely resolve settled over you.
You would not break.
Not here. Not now. Not for him.
As you stepped into the cool night air, you drew in a deep breath, willing the ache in your chest to dissipate. Gojo Satoru had taken enough from you. Your heart, your dignityâno more.
If he thought you would crumble, he was mistaken.
He would regret this, you vowed silently.
And you would make certain of it.
The morning that came in a few days was no less disheartening than the night of the house party. The morning sun filtered weakly through the gauzy curtains of the drawing room, casting pale, lackluster patterns on the carpet. Even the sunlight seemed hesitant, as if it knew it had no place in the solemn atmosphere that hung over your family.
Even Yuji was solemn as you all sipped on your tea, the drawing room oddly quiet as you reflected in the aftermath of the past few days. The events of the house party still loomed over you. Your familyâs hasty departure had been punctuated by the sight of your mother in whispered conversation with Duchess Gojo, their faces tight with the bitterness of dashed expectations. You had no doubt they had commiserated over your perceived recklessness and Gojoâs insolence, lamenting how the perfect match they had orchestrated had unraveled before their very eyes.
You had borne it all in silence.
But now, in the cold light of morning, your resolve felt brittle.
Your hands tightened around your teacup as you stared into the amber liquid, your reflection rippling with each shallow breath you took. Independence? That word felt hollow. You had fought for it, yes, but at what cost? The tonâs whispers had already begun. You could feel their weight pressing on you, suffocating in their judgment. The laughter and speculation at your expense would echo through parlors and ballrooms for weeks, if not months.
And yet, deep down, there was a spark of defiance. They thought this was your undoing. They thought you would crumble. But they had no idea.
"Why does it feel like weâre mourning?" Yuji muttered, breaking the silence. His voice was quiet, but the sarcasm was unmistakable. "Itâs not as though anyone has died."
Your motherâs sigh this time was louder, sharper, and followed by a pointed glance in his direction. âYuji, do not jest,â she snapped. "This is no laughing matter."
Choso, who had been reclining with one arm draped lazily over the armrest of his chair, sat up straighter. âMother,â he said cautiously, his voice soft but steady, âI think itâs time we address whatâs truly troubling you.â
Her handkerchief stilled in her lap. For a moment, the room was silent again, the tension thick enough to choke on.
âTroubling me?â she repeated, her tone icy. âYou think I am troubled, Choso?â
âEveryone is troubled,â Choso replied, his gaze flicking briefly to you. "But perhaps if you said whatâs on your mind, we could all breathe a little easier."
Your motherâs lips thinned as she sat up straighter, her shoulders stiff. âVery well,â she said sharply, âif you must know, I am ashamed.â
The word hit you like a slap, even though you had expected it. You gritted your teeth, staring down at your tea to hide the flush of anger and embarrassment creeping up your neck.
âAshamed of what?â you asked quietly, your voice tighter than you intended.
âOf you,â she replied without hesitation. âOf the scandal you have brought upon this family. Do you think your actions have no consequences? Do you think the ton will simply overlook yourâŚâ She hesitated, clearly searching for the most cutting word. âYour antics with Lord Gojo?â
You felt Choso stiffen beside you, his protective instincts clearly flaring, but you held up a hand to stop him. You wouldnât hide behind your brothersânot this time.
âI have done nothing wrong,â you said, your voice low but firm. âGojo and I made a mutual decision that we were incompatible. Weââ
âYou humiliated yourself!â she interrupted, her voice rising. âAnd by extension, this family. Do you think people are speaking of him? No! It is you they ridicule. It is your name they sully.â
Your chest burned with anger and hurt, but before you could retort, Yuji shifted uncomfortably, muttering, âThis is getting out of handâŚâ
âYou think I care about their opinions?â you snapped, finally lifting your gaze to meet your motherâs. âThe ton has always been cruel. They would find a reason to gossip no matter what I did. I refuse to live my life pandering to their expectationsââ
âAnd look where that refusal has left you,â your mother interrupted, her voice shaking with fury. âUnmarried. Ruined. Who will have you now?â
You flinched, the words cutting deeper than you thought possible. Your lips parted, but no words came out. What could you possibly say to that?
The silence that followed was deafening.
Until a voice, smooth and amused, broke it.
âNow, now, Mother. I know youâve always had a flair for the dramatic, but let us not turn your theatrics onto our dearest sister.â
All heads turned toward the entrance, where a figure lounged against the doorway, his presence commanding without even trying. There he stoodâSukuna, your brother, looking entirely too pleased with himself for someone who had kept you waiting for days. Both you and Yuji involuntarily gasped in excitement, while Choso only shook his head in amusement and crossed his arms.
He strode into the room with an air of nonchalance, his tailored attire immaculate, his smile one of mocking amusement. His gaze flicked to your mother, then to you, lingering for a moment as if to appraise the damage left in her wake.
âGood morning,â he said smoothly, the corners of his mouth curling. âI trust Iâve arrived in time to save you from a most tiresome sermon.â
Your mother bristled, but her voice faltered, her ire now redirected. âSukuna, this is hardly the time for your irreverenceââ
âAnd yet here I am,â he interrupted, dropping into a chair with the kind of ease that only Sukuna could muster. He leaned back, his sharp gaze softening just slightly as it fell on you. âI thought you might appreciate a reprieve. You seem to have had enough lectures for a lifetime.â
You could feel tears welling in your eyes. You had severely underestimated how much you missed your elder brother, seeing his presence stir a fondness and comfort you hadnât felt ever since he left for Europe. And it seemed that your brothers shared your sentiment; Yuji was basically on his haunches, doing everything he could not to leave his chair to tackle Sukuna, and Choso barely holding in an amused smile.Â
âStill causing chaos wherever you go, I see,â Choso said dryly, though there was no malice in his tone.
Sukuna smirked. âSomeone has to keep things interesting.â
Your mother huffed, her lips pressing into a thin line as she rose from her seat. âI refuse to be made a fool in my own home. Sukuna, do try not to corrupt your siblings further while I attend to matters of actual importance.â She swept out of the room with her usual imperious grace, leaving a silence in her wake.
As soon as she left, you left your chair to basically jumping on him, hugging him tightly as he reciprocated your hug with wrapping his big arms around yours with equal fervor. âKuna,â you whispered, burying your face into his chest as the tears started flowing. His presence surrounded you, offering you a comfort and familiarity that the eventful weeks, ever since your debut, hadnât offered
Sukuna looked down to you with a raised brow as he patted your head affectionately. âWell, that was entertaining. Now, whoâs going to tell me what truly happened while I was gone?â
prev. the fall | next. the rebound
general masterlist | series masterlist
a/n hi everyone!!! so i lied and said the update wasn't gonna take as long #womaninmalefields BUT thank you for your patience <3
so uh....we are now gonna enter the arc with DRAMAA. there will be yearning, there will be angst, and soon after, there will be fluff. idk if anyone needs to hear this, but, again, this series will have a happy ending. if anyone is sad, don't worry. i'm going to make gojo grovel <3
SUKUNA IS BACK SUKUNA IS BACK what do we think?! spoiler alert this is what sukuna will wanna do to gojo after reader spills the tea
THANK U FOR READING!!! rest assured reader a BADDIE there will be some showing ankles and lowering bustlines to start our reputation era and infuriate gojo but u didnt hear that from me !!!
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