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Synopsis: Years after Suguru left, you're still not able to get him off your mind. When he reappears years after his betrayal, the past collides with the present. Unexpected, in a way you didn't even dare to dream about.
Warnings: this isn't proofread 100%, the emotional rollercoaster you deserve, hurt to comfort big time, this is for all my geto girlies who deserve their happy ending
please please please make this go viral thank you
„He’s a threat for the whole population!”
“We need to kill that brat before he kills all non-sorcerers.”
“I can’t believe someone like him was able to do something like…that.”
“So much wasted potential. Why does a special grade sorcerer act this way?”
“I thought he’s a nice boy.”
“So, you’re not one of those nice guys I guess.”
The sun already hung so low in the sky that you were barely able to see his soft features, let alone the surprised look that crept over his face while hearing those words coming from your mouth.
“Are you talking about me or Satoru?”
You let out one of those cute chuckles he adored so much, the kind he heard in his head on repeat even when you were long gone. Gosh, he couldn’t get enough of this. Those lonely nights with only you and a cigarette by his side, the countless hours he spent trying to understand you while it was his mind that slowly but surely fell apart.
“Nope, I’m always talking about you, Suguru.”
“What am I if not a nice guy, then?”
Sure, Satoru Gojo was his one and only best friend, but you were something else entirely: An unspoken bond that lived in the spaces between words, in glances that lingered just a moment too long. You weren’t a lover, not in the conventional sense, but you weren’t just a friend either. You were a mirror to his soul, the keeper of truths he couldn't bear to speak aloud, and the only person who could hold the weight of his silence without it breaking you both.
“You’re... complicated,” you finally replied, the word laced with warmth rather than judgment.
“You’re the kind of person who feels too much but hides it too well. The kind who would burn the world down if it meant saving the people you love. Not everyone understands that, but I do. Or at least I’m convinced I do.”
Suguru’s lips twitched into a faint smile, more melancholic than amused.
“Complicated, huh? That’s one way to put it.”
“And dangerous,” you added lightly, the hint of a smile in your voice.
“But not in the way they think. Not to me.”
His expression softened, the darkness in his eyes easing for just a moment as he stared at you.
“Not to you,” he echoed, as though testing the words on his tongue, letting them sink into the cracks of his fraying soul.
Till this day, that one last conversation both of you had on that lonely bench still haunts him. The way you looked at him back then, as if you’d already knew that you might never see him again, as if you just counted the hours until he goes berserk.
What are you thinking about him now?
Is he still on your mind?
Are you hating him the way Satoru does?
“You’re thinking about her again, don’t you?”
Fuck. He thought about you.
Again.
Suguru lets out a sharp exhale, the sound halfway between a sigh and a laugh, bitter enough to sting his own ears. How pathetic he has to look to the people surrounding him. When he walked down this path, he knew that he’ll have to do it without you, that he won’t be able to see you again. And yet…
Losing you seems to hurt more than anything else.
“Of course I am,” he admits to his assistant, his voice low and rough like gravel underfoot.
“Not like I can help it. She’s everywhere, even when she’s not. It’s ridiculous.”
There it is again, your face ghosting through his mind. Other than Satoru and Shoko, you never really tried to find him. If you wanted to, you would, right? Maybe you’re too mad at him for all the things he’s done. Or maybe you already forgot about him.
“But it doesn’t matter, does it? She’s gone. Just like everything else.”
For a moment, he closes his eyes, trying to drown out the memories, the sound of your laugh, the way your voice softened when you said his name, the weight of your eyes on him as if you could see through all the lies he told himself. He’d burn every memory if he could, let them smolder in the same fire that consumed the rest of his life.
“Besides. She’d hate me now, just like everyone else. Maybe she was just waiting for me to turn into the monster she saw coming.”
“Stop stewing in these thoughts, that doesn’t matter anymore. We’re expecting another bunch of monkeys in half an hour.”
But even as she said it, the words tasted wrong. It shouldn’t matter that he can still feel the warmth of your gaze, your unwavering belief in him, and yet it cuts deeper than any accusation ever could. Suguru shakes his head while straightening his shoulders, eyes locked onto Manami in front of him in order to force you off his mind.
“Doesn’t matter,” he repeats, his voice barely above a whisper, as though trying to convince himself.
“It’s too late for that now. So, where’s the monkeys?”
“Why did I know I’d find you here?”
His voice startles you, making you jump slightly. You turn to see none other than Satoru Gojo standing there, hands in his pockets, his white hair catching the fading sunlight. The sunglasses perched on his nose don’t quite hide the sharp edge in his expression he usually wears around you.
“Because I’m always here, I guess,” you reply softly, your tone as tired as the circles under your eyes appear.
“And I told you to stop a long time ago,” Satoru bites back, his voice bitter, cutting.
“The Suguru you knew… he’s gone.”
The weight of his words lands hard, though they’re not new. He’s said them before, with the same venom in his voice, every time you bring up Suguru or the past.
“I know. I’ve always known.”
“Then why do you keep punishing yourself? Dropping out of Jujutsu High when everyone needed you didn’t bring him back. Hiding out here doesn’t change anything, y’know?”
“It wasn’t about bringing him back, Satoru,” you snap, your voice sharper than you intend.
“It was about… letting him go. You wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me,” he challenges, stepping closer.
“I’ve spent years watching people destroy themselves over things they can’t fix. I know the look in your eyes - you miss him. You always have. But you didn’t even try to stop him when he turned his back on us.”
You flinch, his words hitting a nerve.
“Because it wasn’t my place. I wasn’t like you, Gojo. I wasn’t his best friend. I wasn’t strong enough to drag him back kicking and screaming or to stand in his way. All I could do was… let him live the way he decided to. I thought… maybe if I stayed behind, if I didn’t follow him, he’d understand that I believed in him, that I trust him and his actions, the path he chooses. That I’d be here if he ever wanted to come back.”
Satoru’s shoulders tense, his jaw tightening. He never understood. Until this day, he never wrapped his head around the fact that you didn’t try to stop his best friend back then. You, who had more power over Suguru than himself.
God, how much he hates that disgusting truth until now.
“And look where that got you,” he mutters.
You look away, your hands gripping the edge of the bench for support.
“I never expected to see him again, Satoru. I didn’t think I’d matter enough to him for that.”
The silence between you stretches thin, brittle as glass.
“Do you think he hates me?” you ask, your voice barely audible.
“For staying behind? For not going after him?”
Gojo doesn’t answer, which is answer enough. You know he blames you, at least a little, for what happened. For not doing more. For leaving everything to him. For allowing Suguru to turn his back on Jujutsu High.
“Suguru hating you? Never. I bet he still thinks about you every damn day”, Satoru mutters under his breath before turning on his heels and leaving you standing in the rain.
Suguru, still thinking about you? You shake your head vehemently, not allowing that absurd thought into your brain. If he would miss you, he’d visit you, right? In all those years, he never lifted a finger in order to find you.
You were right there. In your small apartment, at jujutsu high.
Maybe he forgot about you after all.
“Me? Forgetting you? I’d never be able to do that, (y/n).”
Maybe some promises are meant to be broken.
-a few evenings later-
You’ve drank too much.
You always do when Shoko isn’t with you, when no one’s around to watch you. But even though you emptied a whole bottle of liqueur on your own, you still aren’t able to forget him. Fuck, his face is glued onto your mind like a second skin, never leaves you even though you drink enough to forget your own name.
Will it always feel like this? Will that ache ever go away?
“What are you thinking about, handsome?”
“Something I’ve lost some while ago”, you mumble, absently swirling your glittery cocktail around.
“That’s a bummer.”
You don’t even gift the random stranger next to you a look, the guy who smells like cheap cigarettes so vehemently that you feel like throwing up.
Maybe it’s time to call it a day.
“Yeah. Whatever.”
You spring back onto your feet, the alcohol vibrating through your veins. You were never much of a drinker back then, only shared a cigarette with Suguru from time to time. But this became your only way to numb the pain. At least for a few hours, at least for some time.
The cold air of the night hits your face like a wall. Even though it’s far past midnight, the city buzzes in street light, laughter and cries. And yet, all you’re able to think about is him again. His laugh, his voice, the way he used to look at you when he thought no one else was watching. Is it wrong to long for him? Is it disgusting that you couldn’t care less about the things he’s done those past years, about what he’d become?
You shake your head, trying to dispel the thoughts, but they cling to you, stubborn and relentless. Why can’t you just stop? Stop longing for something that will never happen, stop running after a person who is long gone? Suguru won’t come back, you won’t just meet him on a random street-
The click of footsteps catches your attention. Heavy, yet elegant footsteps across the still busy street.
At first, you think it’s just another stranger wandering through the city’s darkened streets. But something about the rhythm - steady, purposeful - sets your nerves on edge. Something about this feels familiar.
You glance up, your heart skipping a beat as your gaze meets a pair of familiar dark brown eyes.
Suguru Geto.
The world around you blurs, the sounds of the city fading into silence. It’s him, unmistakably him. His hair is longer than you remember, strands sticking to his face from what looks like rain, or maybe it’s sweat. Blood splatters ruin his clothes and the sharp line of his jaw, painting a stark, gruesome picture paired with those cold orbs. His expression is unreadable, but his eyes… they’re searching, watching your every move.
You should run, or scream, or yell at him – at least something that shows him what he put you through.
Anything.
He’s the same man who left you, who walked away from everything, from you. He, who didn’t even tell you about his true feelings, who didn’t care about the consequences of his actions, who didn’t even ask you to join. All those miserable nights you imagined him sitting next to you on that bench, the bottles of alcohol you’ve drank just to forget his name. He needs to pay for it, needs to know what he did to you by leaving you behind.
But instead, your feet move of their own accord, closing the distance between you in an instant.
Before he can react, you throw your arms around him so, pulling him into a tight embrace.
Suguru freezes, his body stiff against yours. He doesn’t move, doesn’t speak, as if the sheer force of your presence has left him powerless. You bury your face against his chest, not caring about the blood, the grime, or the hurricane of questions swirling in your mind. All you care about is the fact that he’s here, alive, and solid beneath your touch. You can feel him – not only in your dreams, but for real.
Suguru is here.
He’s alive.
He’s right between your arms.
The scent of him - familiar, though tinged with something darker - fills your senses, dragging you back into a world you thought you’d never touch again. Tears sting your eyes, but you bite them back, unwilling to let them fall.
“Suguru,” you whisper, your voice trembling.
Finally, he moves. His arms lift hesitantly, then wrap around you with a force that knocks the air out of your lungs. He holds you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear any given minute, his grip firm and desperate. His head dips slightly, and for a moment, you think you feel him trembling too.
“What are you doing?”
His voice is rough, low, almost broken.
“I don’t know,” you admit, your voice muffled against his chest.
“I just… I missed you.”
He pulls back just enough to look at you, his dark eyes scanning your face as if trying to memorize every detail.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he mutters, his tone a mixture of regret and warning.
“Neither should you,” you counter, your gaze unwavering.
Suguru’s lips twitch, almost forming a smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. He lifts a hand, his fingers brushing against your cheek as though testing if you’re real.
“You should hate me.”
“Maybe I should,” you reply, your voice steady despite the storm raging inside you.
God, you’re so furious at him. Mad because he ran away, mad because he left you standing in the rain.
Mad because this is actually the first time Suguru Geto hugged you.
“But I don’t. I guess I could never hate you.”
His expression falters, the mask he’s worn for so long cracking just enough to reveal the man beneath. The one you knew, the one you loved in a way you never fully understood. And for the first time since leaving everything behind, he feels that small ray of sunshine taking in his heart again.
“You don’t know what I’ve done, what I’ve become. I was so sure you’ll hate me like everyone else.”
“I know enough. And I don’t care. You’re still Suguru Geto, aren’t you?”
He exhales sharply, the sound almost like a laugh, though there’s no humor in it. You, not caring about the fact that he ended countless lives out of his own fulfilment? You, a jujutsu sorcerer who always protected those monkeys?
“You’re too good for this,” he bites back, shaking his head.
“Too good for me.”
“Don’t decide that for me,” you snap, surprising even yourself with your suddenly so sharp tone.
“You don’t get to make that choice. You already did when you left without saying goodbye”
The silence between you stretches, heavy with unspoken words. You’re right and he knows it.
But… Was it really a possibility to take you with him back then? Was there a tiny chance that you…would have joined him?
Slowly, he leans his forehead against yours, his eyes closing as though seeking comfort in your presence. No, he doesn’t want to think this through. Not right now. Not when he feels your heart pound against his body, not when you’re this close to him for the very first time.
“I thought I’d never see you again,” he admits, his voice barely a whisper.
“I told myself it was better that way.”
“And yet you’re here,” you point out softly.
“And yet I’m here,” he echoes, his lips curving into a faint, bitter smile.
For a moment, it’s just the two of you. No blood, no curses, no jujutsu, no past or future. Just the weight of the present, fragile and fleeting. And for now, that’s enough.
For now, simply holding the man you thought you’ve lost forever on a random street is more than enough to make you feel whole again.
If Suguru was an asshole, then you didn’t even know what to call Satoru.
You stared in disbelief as he plucked the lone strawberry off your slice of strawberry shortcake and popped it into his mouth like he’d earned it.
At least if it had been Suguru, he would’ve offered you his.
“You’re being mean,” you told him flatly.
“Why?” he asked, already chewing, grinning at you like he’d just won the lottery—or in this case, the strawberry. “You cryin’?”
That only made you want to pout harder.
No one—not your ‘childhood friends’, not your classmates, not even your younger siblings (because God forbid anyone in your family ever lacked something; there was always an abundance of everything)—had ever treated you like this. Casual. Teasing. Slightly cruel in a way that wasn’t meant to wound.
It was weirdly nice.
And incredibly infuriating.
“Pig,” you muttered.
Satoru gasped, clutching his chest dramatically, then turned to Shoko. “She fat-shamed me.”
You rolled your eyes so hard you nearly saw your own brain.
Shoko, completely unfazed, gave you a thumbs-up and slid her own strawberry toward you. You declined quickly—partly out of pride and because she looked visibly relieved when you did.
Seriously. What was wrong with this friend group?
Currently, it was the six of you—well, sort of. Suguru, you, Satoru, Shoko, and Suguru’s two kids. Nanako, the blonde one, had immediately decided she liked you because you were “pretty,” announcing it boldly and without hesitation. Mimiko, brown-haired and shy, lingered close to Suguru, giving you a small wave from behind him when your eyes met.
Suguru had invited you along despite your initial protests about intruding. Satoru had insisted because he “already liked you,” because of the amount of liquor you could bring to the table—whatever that means.. And Shoko was just glad she finally had someone to talk to besides “these assholes.”
So now you were all at an indoor trampoline park.
You had tried to pay. Genuinely. But Satoru apparently took that as a personal challenge and escalated it into some unspoken competition over who could swipe their card faster. That was when you finally realized—this was the obnoxiously rich asshole Suguru had warned you about.
And now Satoru was paying for everything.
You sat at a small table, picking at what remained of your cake, watching Satoru shove the rest of his food into his mouth before sprinting off to rejoin Suguru and the kids. Suguru moved carefully, attention split between laughing with them and keeping them safe (his daughters—Satoru could go fuck himself), hands always ready to steady or catch.
You swallowed, something warm and unfamiliar settling in your chest.
Shoko exhaled slowly, the universal sound of a woman reevaluating her life choices, then looked at you.
“Come on,” she said, already standing. “You should jump too.”
“I’m good,” you replied automatically. “I’ll just—”
“Nope.” She said gently pushing you away. “I’ll watch everyone's stuff.”
You blinked. “Why are you so insistent? Do you want me to have that much fun?”
“Exactly,” she said flatly, already backing away. “Also, I need air.”
That’s when it clicked.
You’d noticed it earlier—the way she kept glancing toward the exit, the subtle impatience, the hands shoved into her pockets like she was itching for something.
Yeah. She was definitely slipping out for a smoke.
You opened your mouth to call her out, but she shot you a look that said don’t snitch and disappeared toward the doors.
Traitor.
With a resigned sigh, you made your way onto the trampoline floor just as Nanako spotted you. Her face lit up like you’d personally cured all her problems.
“You’re here!” she squealed, immediately grabbing your hand and bouncing with you whether you were ready or not.
You laughed despite yourself, adjusting quickly as she dragged you along, her energy boundless. She jumped higher than she should’ve been allowed to, hair flying everywhere, clearly fearless.
Mimiko, on the other hand, stayed close to Suguru, hopping cautiously beside him, eyes flicking to you every now and then. She waved when she caught you looking, then immediately hid half her face behind his sleeve again.
Cute. Painfully so.
You were mid-bounce with Nanako, finally starting to relax—
When suddenly—
Impact.
“Oh, you’ve got to be—”
Satoru tackled you out of nowhere.
Not aggressively. Not violently.
Just… recklessly.
He slammed into you with all the grace of a feral cat, sending both of you flying across the trampoline. You bounced once. Twice. Then landed in a tangled heap, staring up at the ceiling while your soul briefly left your body.
You lay there, blinking.
He hovered over you, grinning like he’d just discovered a new hobby. “You good?”
You wanted to curse him out. You really did. You wanted to call him every insult you knew and invent a few new ones just for him.
But—
Kids.
So instead, you smiled sweetly through clenched teeth. “You absolute—”
Nanako gasped. “No bad words!”
You inhaled. Exhaled.
“…menace,” you finished tightly.
Satoru burst out laughing.
“Oh, you’re fun,” he said, then immediately reached for you again.
“Satoru wait, no—” You shoved him back with both hands, using the bounce to your advantage, and he stumbled, barely catching himself before falling flat on his ass.
Suguru barked out a laugh from across the floor. “serves you right.” He told Story who ignored just ignored him.
Satoru sat up, eyes sparkling. “Oh, we’re doing this?”
You squared your shoulders, bouncing lightly. “You started it.”
Nanako cheered like she was watching a wrestling match. Mimiko clapped quietly, eyes wide.
Satoru lunged again.
This time, you were ready.
You ducked, grabbed his arm, and used his own momentum to fling him sideways. He yelped—actually yelped—before hitting the trampoline and rolling.
He popped back up, hair wild, grin feral.
“Okay,” he said, pointing at you. “I like you.”
You scoffed, heart pounding, adrenaline buzzing. “Yeah? I still think you’re an asshole.” He laughed and charged again.
“Daddy! Daddy!” Nanako’s voice cut through the chaos, high and urgent as she bolted across the trampoline floor, her short legs pumping like her life depended on it. She skidded to a stop in front of Suguru and pointed an accusatory finger back at you.
“The big bad UGLY dragon is attacking the princess!” she declared. “She’s gonna die!” She added dramatically, tugging her hair in distress.
You barely had time to process that before Satoru—who was still very much sprawled on top of you, using your stomach like it was a premium seat—let out an offended gasp.
“I am not ugly!” he protested loudly, one hand flying to his chest like he’d been personally betrayed. “That’s slander.”
“Shush, dragon!” Nanako snapped, hands on her hips. “You’re supposed to be scary, and you are, but you’re still ugly. That’s how dragons work!”
You squirmed beneath him, trying to shove his shoulder. “Get—off—me,” you hissed between laughs, but with his strength, it's completely useless.
That’s when Mimiko spoke up.
She had been clinging to Suguru, fingers curled into her sleeves like she was debating the risk of existing at all. But now her small fists clenched with determination. “I’m helping the princess too,” she said, quiet but firm.
Before you could react, she hurried over and planted herself at your side like a tiny bodyguard.
Your heart did a weird little thing.
Suguru, meanwhile, crouched low on the trampoline, eyes narrowing as if he were surveying a battlefield. He picked up a discarded pool noodle and rested it over his shoulder, posture shifting into something exaggeratedly heroic.
“Fear not,” he announced gravely, “for I, a brave knight, shall defeat the UGLY dragon.”
Nanako lit up. “Yes! Save her, daddy!”
Satoru let out a mock growl, still stubbornly refusing to move. “I am terrifying,” he said, baring his teeth dramatically. “But I refuse to accept the ugly allegations.”
“Not on my watch,” Suguru replied.
He launched himself forward with an overly dramatic bounce, swinging the pool noodle. It smacked Satoru’s arm with a harmless thwack, and Suguru immediately followed it up by stumbling, rolling across the trampoline like he’d been hit by an invisible force.
“I shall vanquish you, foul beast!” he cried, flailing so hard it was impossible to take him seriously.
Mimiko grabbed another pool noodle, eyes shining, and joined in. “I’m helping too!”
She smacked Satoru’s side, gentle but enthusiastic.
“Ow! Betrayal!” Satoru yelped, clutching his chest and wobbling exaggeratedly. “The children have turned against me!”
You were laughing so hard your sides hurt, tears gathering at the corners of your eyes. “Get off me, you dramatic, ugly beast!”
That did it.
Suguru lunged again—this time more carefully—and hooked an arm around Satoru, rolling them both away from you in a controlled tumble. They bounced once, twice, before Suguru pinned him with a triumphant flourish.
“Behold,” Suguru declared, lifting the pool noodle like a sword. “The princess is safe.”
Nanako jumped up and down, cheering. “You did it! You saved her!”
Mimiko smiled too, small and proud, standing a little taller.
Satoru lay flat on his back, arms tucked behind his head, chest rising as he grinned up at the ceiling. “Fine,” he conceded. “Not ugly, but defeated. Temporarily.”
You finally sat up, brushing your hair back and steadying your breathing, still buzzing with laughter.
Nanako immediately grabbed your hand again. “Come on!” she said. “Let’s jump more!”
“Wait—Nanako.” Mimiko’s small voice cut in, calm but decisive. She stopped Nanako mid-tug, her hand still wrapped around your wrist.
“The princess has to give the knight a kiss as a reward,” she said matter-of-factly, like she was reciting an ancient, universally accepted law.
Nanako froze. Her eyes widened. “Oh.” She nodded solemnly, then turned to you with alarming seriousness. “I forgot. You HAVE to give the knight a kiss.” She leaned closer, lowering her voice like she was letting you in on a sacred secret. “It’s true love.”
Your brain short-circuited.
You glanced at Suguru, then at the girls, then immediately away again as heat rushed up your neck. “I—wait—”
Behind you, Satoru completely lost it. He doubled over, clutching his stomach, tears actually forming at the corners of his eyes. “Oh my god.” he wheezed. “This is the best day of my life.”
Suguru cleared his throat, visibly uncomfortable. “Girls,” he said carefully, holding his hands up. “the princess doesn’t have to repay the knight. It’s the knight’s duty to protect. No rewards necessary.”
Mimiko frowned and crossed her arms. “That’s not what you say.”
Suguru blinked. “What?”
“You always tell us to give you kisses when you ‘save’ us,” she replied, tone painfully logical. “That’s the rule.”
Nanako gasped. “Did you lie, daddy?”
What the hell is Suguru teaching his daughters?
Satoru immediately leaned in, grinning like a menace. “Wow,” he said, rubbing salt directly into the wound. “Is daddy a liar?” He mocked.
Suguru shot him a look. “You’re not helping.”
You stood there, mortified, fingers twisting into your sleeves. The girls’ eyes were on you now—expectant, hopeful, completely sincere.
You sighed. “…Okay,” you muttered, barely audible. Then, louder, to Suguru, “Um. Is that… okay?”
“Yes!—I mean, if you're okay with that?” He stiffened slightly, then nodded once, quick and clear. “Yeah. That’s fine.”
You stepped forward before you could think better of it, leaned in, and pressed the briefest, lightest kiss to his cheek. It barely lasted a second.
Still—your face felt like it was on fire.
Suguru’s ears turned red. He looked very intently at absolutely anything except you.
Nanako squealed. “TRUE LOVE!”
Mimiko smiled, satisfied, like a prophecy had just been fulfilled.
Before either you or Suguru could spiral further, the girls grabbed your hands again—one on each side.
“Come on!” Nanako chirped. “Play with us! It's gonna be a girl’s only night out.”
They dragged you away, mercifully fast, leaving Suguru standing there rubbing the back of his neck and Satoru laughing so hard he nearly fell over again.
╰┈➤ In the mysterious backdrop of ancient Kyoto, Y/N, the only daughter of the Hirano clan, prepares for her marriage to Gojo Satoru, the most powerful magician, a union designed to secure the future of their clan.
I don't allow the story to be republished or translated I'm getting tired for this please understand the matter, and thank you
-age gap (six years), gojo is a bit violent, the reader is 16 years old in current events.-
• JUJUTSUKAISEN ━≫ Akutame Gege
• THE SILENT VOWS ━≫ Quanxi
• COVER CREDIT ━≫ _3aem
-All Rights Reserved
that's all, I hope you like this!
━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━
-In the heart of Kyoto, where ancient traditions intertwined with modern sorcery, the Hirano clan's estate stood as a silent sentinel to its illustrious lineage. Within its quiet corridors and manicured gardens, the air was thick with the weight of duty, a burden that the young heiress, the reader "y/n".
-Her chambers, adorned with silks of deep crimson and gold, reflected the opulence and austerity expected of one destined for greatness. y/n, with her bright green eyes and sun-kissed hair, adorned with light orange freckles, a picture of quiet obedience, She sat on her bed, which was draped in luxurious silk sheets and pillows embroidered with intricate patterns. In her hands, she held a well-worn book about a princess, its pages soft from being read many times. This story was her favorite, as the princess's life mirrored her own in many ways, filled with duty, tradition, and a yearning for something more.
-As she lost herself in the familiar tale, the door to her chamber opened with a soft creak. Her mother, Lady Hirano, entered the room with an air of authority that commanded attention. Tall and imposing, she wore a kimono that exuded elegance, paired with very dark lipstick that contrasted sharply with her golden-yellow hair, a shade identical to her daughter's. With a graceful but firm gesture, Lady Hirano took the book from Y/N's hands and set it aside.
-She said in a firm tone :
-"You must understand, daughter, that your marriage to Gojo Satoru is more than a personal union, It is a pact that binds our clans, securing our future."-
-y/n inclined her head respectfully, her fingers tracing the intricate patterns of her kimono. The fabric whispered tales of craftsmanship passed down through generations, each stitch a testament to the artistry that adorned the Hirano lineage. From childhood, she had been immersed in the teachings of duty — to marry, to bear children, to uphold the honor of her ancestors. Her desires and dreams had long been surrendered to the sanctity of tradition, woven into the fabric of her existence like the threads of her ceremonial attire.
-From a young age, she had been groomed for this role — to marry, bear children, and uphold the honor of the Hirano name. Her desires had long been sacrificed on the altar of duty, her dreams mere whispers in the wind.
-Since her early years, Y/N's mother had treated her with a cold formality, constantly reminding her that she was special and not like other children. Play was forbidden, replaced by a strict regimen of meals and classes that focused on education and moral discipline. Under her mother's stern guidance, she transformed into an obedient doll, a woman molded to wait for marriage and childbirth without any personal goals. Like the women before her, she was expected to perform her duty, give birth to heirs, and then pass away in peace.
-"You possess the blood of warriors and sorcerers," -
-Lady Hirano continued, her gaze unwavering as it assessed her daughter. Pride mingled with expectation in her eyes, a reflection of the legacy that y/n was destined to inherit.
-"Your union with Gojo will ensure the prosperity of our clan,"-
-She affirmed with conviction.
-"This is your destiny, y/n."-
-A tumult of emotions stirred within y/n's heart — apprehension, resignation, and beneath it all, a quiet rebellion that dared to question the path laid out before her. She had been raised to honor tradition, to embrace her role without question, yet a flicker of curiosity burned within her. Beyond the rigid confines of duty, she yearned for a glimpse of a world where freely, untethered by the expectations of clan alliances.
-Lady Hirano turned to leave she will not allow her to answer, because Y/N's answer simply does not matter, as it will not change anything. She also expects absolute obedience. Any objection will result in punishment and many lectures. Her silhouette framed by the soft glow of lanterns.
-Y/N, now sixteen years old, prepares to take on the role of gojo Satoru's wife, in the eyes of her clan, this is an appropriate age for marriage.
-Y/N gaze lingered on the moonlit garden beyond her window. Cherry blossoms swayed in the evening breeze, In that quiet moment, amidst the weight of tradition and the legacy of her bloodline, y/n pondered the path that lay ahead.
-Tomorrow was the beginning of a new life, the day she had been preparing for all her years...
-Your wedding day, you had simple encounters with Gojo Satoru, specifically at clan gatherings, you don't know much about him, but what you concluded after your encounters was that he didn't care much about you, for the most part, he hates her, but you don't care, you already heard many rumors throughout their engagement that he's a womanizer.
-A sigh escaped Y/N's lips, as she cleared her mind of conflicting thoughts. She murmured in a low tone,
-"No need to be nervous, I will do what I learned,"-
Before she got up, closed the window, and went to sleep.
❛ ━━━━━━━━━━━･❁･━━━━━━━━━━━ ❜
-Gojo's Point of View-
-The year doesn't change (in 2012)
❛ ━━━━━━━━━━━･❁･━━━━━━━━━━━ ❜
-In contrast, Gojo Satoru, the man who is twenty two years old, prowled the corridors of the clan headquarters, his best friend and confidant, Suguru Geto, by his side. Gojo was grumbling incessantly, and Suguru, with his soothing voice, tried to calm him.
-"You know, Satoru," -
-Suguru began cautiously, his voice a calming presence amidst the brewing storm.
-"she didn't choose this any more than you did. Remember that."-
-Gojo's response was a derisive scoff, his expressions hidden behind the dark blindfold that marked him as a prodigy among sorcerers.
-"I know what this is, Suguru,"-
-He replied sharply.
-"A marriage to a minor who isn't even eighteen yet, to strengthen alliances. Don't expect me to play the doting husband."
-Suguru sighed, fixing his gaze on his friend's impassive face.
-"She's not just a piece in this game, Gojo,"-
-He insisted gently, knowing how much his friend despised the traditions that dictated their lives.
-"She's a person with dreams and hopes. You could at least try to see that."-
-Gojo turned away, his clenched jaw revealing the turmoil within.
-"Dreams and hopes,"-
-He repeated mockingly.
-"What does she know about such things? She's been groomed since birth to obey, to serve the clan's ambitions, just a stupid doll. Our marriage changes nothing."-
-Suguru's brow furrowed in concern, aware of his friend's stubbornness.
-"Maybe not,"-
-He conceded quietly,
-"but she deserves more than your indifference."-
-With a frustrated grunt, Gojo fell silent, his footsteps echoing through the polished corridors of the headquarters. Geto watched him, letting out a quiet sigh as he broke the silence in his gentle tone.
-"Remember, Satoru, she's a girl, barely sixteen, thrown into a harsh reality of premature adulthood."-
-Gojo looked at him, recalling their few encounters, her hesitant smiles, the nervous glances she cast around the room, her attempts to mimic the grace and poise expected of her. She was a child, really, though their world didn't afford her the luxury to remain one.
-"You know she's only sixteen,"-
-Suguru added, his voice softer, almost pleading.
-"She's not just young, she's practically still a child."-
-Gojo clenched his fist, his knuckles turning white. He knew what was expected of him — to marry her, strengthen the alliance, and get her pregnant as soon as possible. The weight of the elders' expectations was suffocating.
-"They want me to marry a minor and have children with her as quickly as possible. It's absurd,"-
-Gojo muttered, his tone filled with bitterness.
-"Do you think I don't know that? Do you think I don't understand the pressure? But I won't be forced into this without a fight."-
-Suguru stepped closer, his gaze imploring.
-"I'm not asking you to accept this without a fight, Satoru."-
-He placed a gentle hand on his friend's shoulder.
-"But at least consider what she must feel. She's trapped just like you, if not more. Show her some kindness. She deserves that."-
-Gojo turned to face his friend fully, the agitation in his eyes clear even through the blindfold.
-"And what if I can't, Suguru? What if I'm too consumed by my own anger and resentment to see beyond my suffering?"-
-Suguru smiled sympathetically, a small, sad smile touching his lips.
-"Then you'll both suffer needlessly. Especially her. You already have some freedom and a bit of authority over the elders, but she doesn't."-
-He sighed, lowering his hand from Gojo's shoulder.
-"But if you can find it in yourself to show her a little compassion, maybe — just maybe — you'll both find a way to bear this together."-
-Gojo's shoulders relaxed slightly, the internal battle momentarily subdued.
-"I'll try"-
-he whispered, almost to himself.
-"But only for myself. I'll try."-
-He said arrogantly,
-"Don't expect me to be the devoted husband. I'll just try not to treat her too harshly. I really don't see her as my wife."-
-Suguru nodded, his temper rising slightly at his friend's arrogance.
-"That's all anyone can expect from you, Satoru."-
-The moonlight bathed the Gojo headquarters in a serene glow as they continued walking, discussing other topics.-
❛ ━━━━━━━━━━━･❁･━━━━━━━━━━━ ❜
-Flashback:The First Encounter-
2003 (nine years ago)
-gojo : thirteen years old
-y/n : seven years old
❛ ━━━━━━━━━━━･❁･━━━━━━━━━━━ ❜
-Years ago, on a balmy summer evening, the Hirano and Satoru clans convened for a rare gathering at the sprawling Satoru estate. Lanterns cast a warm glow over the meticulously manicured gardens, where the scent of cherry blossoms mingled with ceremony.
-y/n Hirano, then a timid seven-year-old adorned in a kimono of soft pastels, stood amidst the opulence of the estate's grand reception hall. Her heart fluttered with a mix of curiosity and trepidation as she awaited the introduction to Gojo Satoru, the thirteen boy, heir to the formidable Satoru lineage and already a prodigy among sorcerers at sixteen, she will be engaged today, with him.
-The dinner between the clans had been a tense affair, filled with polite exchanges that barely masked the undercurrents of political maneuvering and ancient rivalries. Gojo, seated at the head of the table, occasionally glanced towards Makoto with an unreadable expression, his gaze piercing through the formalities with unsettling intensity.
-After the formalities, y/n found herself alone with Gojo in a quiet corner of the garden, away from the prying eyes and murmured conversations of their elders. Gojo leaned against a stone pillar, his posture relaxed yet his presence commanding.
-"You're the Hirano girl,"-
-Gojo remarked coolly, his voice carrying an edge of disdain as he glanced down at y/n with barely concealed disinterest.
-y/n, trained from birth in the art of etiquette and obedience, lowered her gaze respectfully.
-"Yes, Lord Gojo,"-
-She replied softly, her voice tinged with a hint of nervousness.
-"It is an honor to meet you."-
-"Honor?"-
-Gojo scoffed, approached her and held her wrist tightly, but not to the point that it would hurt her, he pressed her small figure and looked at her with complete annoyance, his tone biting as he circled her with a predatory grace.
-"This arrangement is nothing more than a shackle forced upon us by tradition. Don't mistake it for anything else."-
-y/n felt the weight of his words like a physical blow, her youthful innocence colliding with the harsh reality of their predetermined futures, She bit her lip, tried not to tremble, struggling to maintain composure in the face of Gojo's blunt dismissal.-
-"You're right, Lord Gojo,"-
-She murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.-
-"I understand."-
-Gojo's gaze softened imperceptibly for a fleeting moment, a hint of something unreadable flickering in his eyes before he turned away dismissively.
-"Good,"-
-He muttered, striding off after he left her arm and the sound of his steps filled the corridors.
-Alone once more in the vastness of the Satoru estate, y/n clutched at the folds of her kimono, her young heart heavy with the weight of their brief exchange. She had been taught from a tender age the importance of compliance, of burying one's desires deep within the recesses of the soul in service to the clan's aspirations.
-As she wandered the labyrinthine halls, the echoes of Gojo's words lingered in her mind, In that moment, amidst the opulence and the traditions that bound their clans together, She started thinking about her life — a life intertwined with the enigmatic figure who had already left an indelible mark upon her heart.
))‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿))
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
Author's Note: I have made a few changes to the original plot, as you know, don't be the ghost reader, I really love to see your opinions on this chapter, what did you like the most? are there any things you want me to add? your engagement encourages me to publish more (I will read all the comments) thank you for reading, Have a great day!
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thinking about the plot you can leave me some ideas bellow.
art: @sso_s__ on tt
_____________
After hours of wandering through countless shops, Tori and I collapsed into a cozy café, our shopping bags huddled around our feet like loyal companions. She was mid-rant about some store not having her size—of what, I'd lost track. Meanwhile, I cradled my cappuccino in both hands, staring into the foam as my thoughts drifted to Suguru.
"Hey, back to earth?" Tori's voice cut through the fog, her eyebrows raised.
"Sorry, I keep zoning out," I muttered, shrugging.
"You're thinking about him, aren't you?" she asked bluntly.
"Hmm," I nodded, not looking up.
"Well," she began, leaning forward, "maybe he's right. I mean, you always try to figure out everything on your own." Her words stung, but I stayed silent, my expression unreadable, waiting for her to continue.
"It's hard to talk to you sometimes," she said gently. "You get all caught up in your head and don't say what's going on. I bet he wants to help, but how can anyone help if you keep pushing people away? No offense, but have you ever thought about it like that?"
I blinked, surprised by her unexpected honesty. She was right—completely right. Suguru, Shoko, even Tori—they'd all been so kind to me, and I'd been keeping them at arm's length. Not because I didn't trust them, but because I didn't want to burden them. Was my refusal to be vulnerable actually harming these relationships?
"None taken," I said quietly, shaking my head.
"Tori, you're probably right," I admitted after a pause.
"Of course, I am!" She beamed, sitting back. "You should talk to him when we get back to school." She checked her phone and stood, signaling for the check. "Speaking of, we should probably get going."
The café was bustling, filled with the hum of lively chatter and the comforting aroma of cinnamon rolls mingling with coffee. For a moment, it felt like a refuge from the pressures of school. But as much as I enjoyed the change of scenery, her words lingered. Maybe it was time to face my fears and have that conversation with Suguru.
—
The hallway to the dorms felt quieter than usual as Tori and I reached the point where our paths split.
"Today was awesome. Now, go and talk to him, understood?" Tori wrapped me in a quick hug, waving as she turned down her hallway.
"Sure. See you tomorrow," I replied, waving back.
As she disappeared around the corner, I slowed my pace, fumbling for my keys. There was no way I was going to talk to Suguru tonight. Not like this. I needed time to think—time to plan what to say and how to say it. Tomorrow, in between classes, I'd text him. That was the plan. Satisfied with my decision, I dropped my bags unceremoniously onto the table, not even bothering to unpack them. After changing into my pajamas, I collapsed onto my bed, throwing on a random movie to distract myself from the impending "talk." Eventually, I drifted off to sleep.
Monday arrived far too quickly, heralded by the relentless blare of my alarm. By the third snooze, I forced myself out of bed, dragging my feet to the bathroom. The warm water of the shower was a fleeting comfort, relaxing me for only a moment before—
Knock. Knock.
What? I wasn't that late—yet. Wrapping a bathrobe hastily around myself, I stumbled to the door, my wet hair sticking to my face.
"Yes?" I cracked the door open cautiously.
Standing there was Ijichi, the assistant manager, his professional demeanor as rigid as ever.
"Miss Y/N, you've been chosen for a mission alongside your upperclassman, Geto," he said, holding a crisp paper in his hands.
My heart sank. Behind him, leaning casually against the wall with his arms crossed, was Suguru. His expression was unreadable, but his presence alone set my nerves alight.
"Can we meet at the parking lot in 30 minutes, or do you need more time?" Ichiji added, his gaze sweeping over my disheveled appearance.
"Thirty minutes is fine," I stammered, shutting the door before sprinting back to the bathroom.
This was not how I wanted to face Suguru—not in the middle of a mission, and definitely not when I'd just rolled out of bed.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" I muttered, yanking the hairdryer off the counter. In record time, I dried my hair, threw on my uniform, and grabbed my nunchaku. A quick spritz of perfume, a hurried gulp of water, and I was out the door, still struggling to get my shoes on as I rushed to the meeting point.
The parking lot was bathed in the soft light of the early morning, but the atmosphere between us was anything but serene. Suguru stood next to Ijichi, his hair neatly tied back, his uniform immaculate. He looked good—too good. Meanwhile, I was painfully aware of the fact that I was a mess, both inside and out.
We exchanged stiff greetings before climbing into the car. The tension inside was suffocating. Suguru sat beside me, his face turned toward the window, silent. It was like a physical wall between us, and every second of it made my chest ache.
I kept my hands folded in my lap, stealing glances at him, hoping for a sign—a word, a gesture, anything to break the ice. But there was nothing. His silence cut deeper than I expected, and I found myself gripping the edge of my seat, willing the awkwardness to end.
I wanted to say something. I needed to say something. But the cramped space, the watchful eyes of Ijichi, and my own lack of preparation left me paralyzed. Instead, I stared at my knees, my head hanging low, feeling like a scolded child.
I didn't even know the details of the mission—I'd been too flustered to ask. All I knew was that today was going to be a long, painful day.
As we arrived, the quiet suburb unfolded into an elementary school, its small playground eerily still. The tension in the air matched the somber atmosphere. Suguru and I stood beside the car as Ijichi laid out the mission.
"There's been cursed energy detected here, but the priority is retrieving two children who haven't returned home. We believe they're alive, but stay prepared for anything. Good luck." He gave me a reassuring pat on the shoulder before retreating to let us proceed.
Suguru took the lead as we approached the school, his movements steady and composed. My heart pounded as I trailed a few steps behind, rehearsing what I might say to him.
But then he broke the silence first.
"Hey, whatever's going on between us... can we handle this together?" His tone was calm, professional, yet his words carried a weight that made my chest tighten.
I blinked, caught off guard. Was this a truce? A promise to talk later? Or just a way to keep things functional for the mission? My mind raced with questions, spiraling deeper into uncertainty.
Focus. Now isn't the time to overthink.
I quickened my pace, stepping up beside him. "Of course. No problem," I said, nodding firmly, hoping my voice didn't betray the turmoil in my head.
We walked in sync toward the entrance, the looming mission ahead forcing me to push personal thoughts aside—for now.
—
The abandoned elementary school felt suffocating, each step echoing ominously. A faint, fearful whimper guided us to a classroom.
"They're in here," I said, quickening my pace and pushing the door open.
Inside, two children cowered beneath a desk, their small frames trembling. The sight hit me like a wave—I'd been there before, frightened and alone. I approached slowly, crouching to meet their wide eyes.
"Hey, it's okay now," I said gently, offering my hand. "We're here to help."
Channeling my cursed technique, I let soothing energy ripple outward, washing over them. Their breaths steadied, and they nodded hesitantly, clutching each other tightly.
Suguru, standing by the doorway, glanced back. "You stay here with them. I'll handle the curse."
"No," I said firmly, rising to my feet. "We're a team. I'm coming with you."
We found it soon—a hideous amalgamation of sharp teeth and writhing tendrils lurking in the shadows. Without hesitation, Suguru summoned his curses, sending them forward in an elegant, deadly dance. I gripped my nunchakus, ready to dive in.
"Stay back, Y/N!" he barked, his voice sharp. "I need room to move!"
"I'll get in close!" I shouted, darting toward the curse.
"Damn it!" Suguru snapped, yanking his curse back. "Use your technique instead!"
"I can't!" I shouted, frustration burning in my chest as I swung at the curse, my nunchakus connecting with a solid crack.
"What do you mean you can't?" Suguru's eyes flicked to me, his irritation palpable.
"I don't know how!" My voice broke, the admission spilling out as the curse retaliated, its tendrils slicing the air. I leapt back but wasn't quick enough—a glancing hit sent me stumbling.
Suguru seized the opportunity, his curse constricting the curse as his other summons tore into it. A final surge of energy and the curse dissolved, condensing into a black sphere. Without hesitation, Suguru approached it, plucked it from the air, and consumed it, his expression unreadable.
"You're reckless," he muttered, still not meeting my eyes.
My chest tightened, but I shot back, "And you're impossible." I clutched my arm, the sting of both the curse and his words biting deep.
When we returned to the children, their fear had resurfaced, their small bodies trembling once more. Kneeling beside them, I let my cursed energy flow again, softening the sharp edges of their terror. Their cries quieted as they clung to my hands, their grip grounding me as much as I calmed them.
Suguru watched silently, his features softening. "At least that worked," he said, his voice no longer cutting.
"It's all I can do right now," I admitted, my voice quiet.
He nodded, his tone gentler. "We'll figure out the rest later. For now, let's get them home."
As we stepped out of the school and made our way toward Ijichi's car, the two children held hands tightly. One clung to my side, their small grip a comforting reminder of why we were here. I glanced at Suguru walking a few paces ahead, his expression unreadable. The silence between us was heavy, and I couldn't bear it any longer.
"Suguru," I began, my voice tentative. "I need to tell you something. Please, just... let me finish before you say anything."
He glanced back at me, a faint, almost teasing smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Go ahead," he said simply, his tone soft but guarded.
I swallowed hard, gathering my thoughts. "The shock... or whatever this is... it started a few days before all of this. I don't know how to explain it, but it's like I'm pulled into something. I find myself in the memories and emotions of curses or people." My voice wavered, but I pressed on. "It's overwhelming. And when it happened a second time, I was terrified."
"I thought if I could figure it out, maybe I could control it—maybe it could even be useful. I didn't want to bother you or anyone else. Honestly, it sounds so ridiculous even as I'm saying it out loud." I let out a shaky breath. "I found a few things in books, but I don't understand them. I think I need help."
The weight in my chest lifted slightly, but I kept my eyes on the ground, unsure of his reaction.
Suguru's footsteps slowed, and he reached out, gently placing a hand on my shoulder, his other lightly gripping the arm of the child holding me. It almost made us look like a strange little family in this moment.
"Y/N," he said, his voice low but steady, his gaze piercing. "You should know by now that you're never a burden to me. Whatever this is, you don't have to figure it out alone. You're strong, but even the strongest of us can't carry everything on their own."
There was a brief pause before he continued, his tone softening. "I'm sorry I was so hard on you. I thought it would push you to open up, but I see now that I should have just been patient. I hate seeing you shut me out."
His words struck something deep inside me. "I'm sorry too," I whispered.
His lips curved into a small smile. "You're stubborn as hell, you know that?"
I chuckled softly, wiping at my face. "Yeah, well, you're not exactly easy to deal with either."
His hand gave my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Good. It keeps things interesting."
For the first time in days, the tension between us felt like it was melting away. And for the first time in what felt like forever, I felt like I wasn't carrying this alone.
As we approached the entrance of the school, the sight of two worried parents waiting near Ijichi's car immediately caught my attention. Their faces lit up with relief when they spotted the children clinging to us. The little ones released our hands and ran to their parents, who dropped to their knees, arms wide open.
"Thank you so much!" the mother exclaimed, her voice trembling as she hugged both kids tightly. The father bowed deeply, gratitude written all over his face. "We owe you everything."
"It's our duty," Suguru replied, his tone calm but kind. His formal manner reminded me of how seriously he took his role as a sorcerer, even amidst chaos.
Ijichi approached, clipboard in hand. "Great work as always," he said, giving us both a nod. "Is everyone unharmed?"
"Yeah, the kids are safe," I replied, brushing a strand of hair from my face. "We handled the curse."
Ijichi glanced at the parents and children, ensuring everything was in order, then turned to us. "If you're ready, let's head back."
I looked at Suguru, and he gave me a slight nod. As we walked toward the car, the weight of the mission—and the conversation we'd had—started to settle. We'd saved lives today, but more than that, I felt like I'd taken the first step toward mending what had been fractured between us.
As I climbed into the car, Suguru sat beside me, the tension from earlier almost entirely gone. His hand briefly brushed mine as he settled in, a silent reassurance that, despite everything, we were still a team.
There you stood in the silk gown that gracefully fell down your body. Diamond earrings dangling from their hooks and a matching necklace to go along. You could feel the stares and whispers about the how you looked or simply about how Lord h/l/n has chosen a lovely wife for him to parade around.
They were jealous or maybe envious. Either way it didn't matter to your husband. It didn't matter to him because you were his. Nobody else's.
He would show you off for the world to see, but tonight was a special night. He was gonna show a certain someone exactly what he was missing!
°•○
You watched the way your husband conversed with his associates and colleagues. He still held his everyday stoic expression, but conversed amongst them.
Sipping your glass if champagne, you walked around the room admiring the decor the servants displayed throughout the ball room. The insignia of your husband's organization was painted in huge bold lettering on the floor.
Three perfectly lined crystal chandeliers hung, lighting up the room. An assortment of food and sweets was lined on the back wall, as well as a bar placed adjacently agaisnt the corner.
Your skin prickled. Someone was watching you - and you could feel all their exasperation, which you couldn't think of why? You hadn't done anything to anyone. Let alone spoken to them.
Only a select few were graced by your soft and seductive voice - or so, your husband liked to say. You took another sip of your drink trying to take the nerves away.
"Well look at you. All prim and proper, dressing the part." An all to familiar voice spoke from behind you. This voice was definitely something you didn't want to hear ever again.
Fear and dread filled you. Reliving the most traumatic experience you've ever had. As you faced him, you got a good look at what was once the love of your life, but now, you realized how wrong you were. His eyes was sullen and held bags under them. He was alot thinner too and his skin was a sickly pale. He was dying.
You once cared for him sure, but it wasn't love. It never got to blossom into that. Instead it turned into fear. You'd never give him the time of day ever again.
Clearing your throat, you did a quick look around. Your husband was no where in sight, leaving you in an even more distressed state.
He'd never left you alone before and him choosing to not be present anywhere in the room made you mad, and scared. "Your little sugar daddy is occupied." Dan spoke out, noticing your distress.
"You know it's all a lie right you'll never be good enough for him. For anyone. He doesn't fucking love you. Your a pet to be displayed on his arm. That's what everyone is saying anyway-"
"Even though you broke my fuckin heart, I would still take you back y/n, you should just, come back to me." In all reality, Dan knew the truth. He let his jealousy and rage take over. Resulting in him losing the best thing his had. You
You tried finding your voice but you felt it quickly fading. All the work that your husband had put in just to even get you to speak, and you were allowing this man to make you go backwards.
He went to speak again, but one of the servants called for your attention. "Lord h/l/n is requesting your audience ma'am."
Flittering away from the past as quickly as you could, you marched towards his office.
When you arrived, you seen your husband having a glass of whisky with his subordinates, but upon your arrival, they all said their goodbyes, and headed back to the party
"Enjoying yourself dear?" He asked. You gave a stiff nod hoping that he wouldn't notice your distress, but that was impossible. This man knew you better than anyone - better than yourself.
"What's wrong?" Again, you just shook your head. The words failing to leave your lips. By now you were sure he noticed something was wrong with you. He took slow calculated steps towards you until he stopped right in front of you. His hands gripped your waist, pulling you flush against him.
His eyes narrow into slits as he examined you, trying to find anything abnormal. "Why won't you speak?" He racks his brain for a probable cause of what could make you so meek.
Just earlier you were fine, and the only time he'd ever seen you like this was when you first started to speak but was still to scared to voice your concerns and opinions.
The other was when . . . "Was is Dan?" He asked you suddenly. "Tch - of course it was. What did he say to you?"
"N-nothing, he-he just - is it true what they say?"
"What are you talking about?"
The tears you had been holding in began to fall from you freely. "Am I just your pet that you parade around. Like your charity case?"
You know you shouldn't have let Dan's words get to you, but your insecurities were stronger than your will. Its not like you haven't questioned whether or not your husband loved you. Truly loved you.
"Have I ever made you feel like a charity case y/n? - have I ever rushed or forced you to be presented in a way you never liked?" Irritation now laced his voice. You shouldn't feel like this. He shouldn't be the reason you were. You trembled a little, but still said no.
"Exactly. So just because Dan decided to show up does that mean everything I've done for you mean it's a lie?"
Again you responded no. He caressed your face, sliding down his hand down until it gripped your neck.
"Must I show you every time?" He pulled you in for a deep penetrating kiss - one that led to many other things in his office once again.
°•○●°•○●°•○●°○●
"Come in" The door clicked open and footsteps thumped the floorboards under their souls.
"What are you doing here?" H/N asked whomever he was speaking to. He was looking over a few papers before he decided he wanted to head back over to the party. "Nice party your having, but it's sad to see the host is not present."
Dan's voice rang out through the room. He was looking around the place. Trying to find anything valuable that he could take. "When business is booming, sometimes you have to-"
He pauses for a moment. Clearing his throat and adjusting himself before continuing. "- To work when it isn't convenient."
Dan analyzed his former partner. A bead trickling down his forehead and a light tint to his cheeks and his fist kept clenching and unclenching.
"What's up with you?" Dan asked him. He had never seen this man so flustered. The only other expression he seemed to hold was neutral and anger.
"Nothing, what do you want." He proceeded to say. What's wrong is the repetitive stroking of your tongue on his cock (ee I hate this word) what's wrong was the fact he had to hold back just mere seconds from fucking your face and having the best climax in the world.
He was trying to keep his cool but once you started to stroke him with sucking on his balls he couldn't help but sweat. His nails digging in his palms.
"Oh nothing. Came to see an old friend."
You could tell your husband was getting fed up and honestly so were you. "I don't have time for games, get on with your constantly procrastination." He was close - you could tell by the way his balls tightened in your hand.
You go to stroke him again but hesitated with his next choice of words. "How is she? Tired of her yet?" You could hear the smugness in his voice. You could even imagine his stupid little smirk.
You were tired of it - you were tired of him and his constantly bullying bullshit! You've had enough.
A snap of fingers and more footsteps fall into the room. Your husband is stunned to see you rising from your spot beneath his desk. You don't know where you got this courage from, but it felt good. Dan and the guards all had shocked expressions on their faces.
It was you who had snapped for them to come in.
"Take him downstairs so I can finish what we started, and then you can ask him if he's tired of me yet."
Dan's face looked completely taken over. He hadn't heard your voice in years and to hear it now did something to him - meanwhile your husband's dick throbbed even harder with need from thr scene before him.
So he decided to add a little to moment. "Well you her my lady. Take him away" and just like that, Dan was dragged away like the trash he is.
