#infinitynova

I just uploaded the next chapter to Gravity over on Ao3, if anyone would like to enjoy. I think all upcoming chapters will be on there because I'm finding myself not using tumblr as much.

Thanks for your understanding and I hope we finish this story off together <3

・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

What lies between nothingness and eternity? The space between you and me.

Summary: [n/a yet]

c/w: descriptions of violence and blood, some later themes include self harm (will update as we go)

Tags: Gojo Satoru x F!Reader, Friends To Lovers, Strangers to Lovers, Romance, Angst, Fluff, Feels, smut probably later on

notes: thank you for taking the time to read <3

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Chapter 4 - Pendulum

“What are you doing here?” 

You couldn’t hide the tone of surprise, as you opened the door wider to face your unannounced guest. Right outside your apartment stood the tall white-haired sorcerer you had been trying to forget. Trading in his high collared school uniform for a casual shirt, he was dressed comfortably for the hot weather. His hair hung loosely around his face and he hid a scowl behind black circular shades.

“Why does everyone say that when I arrive?” Gojo bemoaned with an exaggerated sigh. “I was in the neighborhood, obviously, and -”

He stopped mid-sentence and tilted his head to the side in an attempt to look past you into the apartment. “Something smells good.”

“Ah-” you began, but before you could answer, the tall stranger had slipped past you and entered your apartment, kicking off his shoes in the freshly-cleaned entryway. 

“I want some of this,” he announced, pointing to the small clay pot on the stove. Looking back at you from his place in the kitchen he chuckled, “Heh, nice apron.”

What in the world.

There he was, standing in your kitchen poking around in your bubbling dinner and chatting away giddily even though you weren’t listening. A dangerous sorcerer of some kind or another had found his way into your home and was inviting himself to your dinner. Your shoulders tensed as you stared him down from your place in the entryway. 

“Hey-”

“This is your apartment?” He had replaced the cover to the pot and strolled further into your one-room flat to stand over your bed and look around with curiosity. “Cute, reminds me of the students’ dormitories.”

You tried your best to wipe the surprise from your face, but it didn’t seem to bother Gojo. 

“Ah-” you started again, but were interrupted once more by the pitch of the kettle signaling your water was ready.

“Coffee!” he announced enthusiastically, a wide grin across his face. 

Taken completely aback, you retreated into the kitchen to gather your thoughts. This was completely unhinged. You stood on your toes and reached high on the shelf to gather a second cup for the sudden visitor. With trembling hands, you combined the coffee grounds and hot water.

“Burning!” he declared in a similarly amused tone, now pointing to the clay pot on the stove, which had begun to stick and smoke slightly. Flustered, you again jumped into action, mixing with a spoon and managing the heat. You stole glances at your visitor out of the corner of your eye and saw him investigating your small bedroom. With a cheery smile on his face, you watched him peek and poke around your room, scrutinizing the corners of the ceilings and dark spots behind your bed and dresser. 

“You know, I haven’t seen any monsters since I got home,” you offered, raising your quivering voice loud enough to carry into the bedroom. “It’s been quiet since then.” 

You avoided his gaze as you finished pouring the coffee cups. Spoons. Sugar. You grasped the handles of the mugs with one hand and walked into the bedroom where Gojo had cheekily sat in the chair opposite yours at the table. He leaned his head on his knuckles as he prodded the sunflowers on your table with a bemused smile. You set the hot cups down on the table, one for each of you. Eyeing the stranger with curiosity, you noted how comfortable he seemed to be as he tucked into the sugar dish and liberally added spoonfuls to his coffee. He slurped with a satisfied ‘ah’ and made a comment about its flavor, although you couldn’t hear it over the rhythm of your heartbeat in your ears. Your hands felt cold and weak as the anxiety in your chest rose. The longer this man stayed, the worse it felt. Your knees wavered but you couldn’t bring yourself to sit down with this intruder in your home. 

“What brings you here?” you tried to ask again, however politely you could manage. 

“Standard follow-up,” he nodded with confidence, still holding the mug. He fell silent, sipping at the hot drink, clearly not intending to reveal any more.

On a Sunday, I bet, you thought grumpily but hesitated to share your thoughts.

“Well,” you began timidly, trying to conceal the tense nature in your voice. “I haven’t seen anything unusual since, you know… No shadows or anything. I’m grateful for your help.”

You tried to add finality to your tone, hoping he would take your hints to leave, that he had no business here in your home. He regarded you for a long moment from behind his black sunglasses, which left you uneasy since you couldn’t see his eyes when you spoke to him. Gojo took a long sip to drain the remainder of the hot coffee from his mug.

“That’s good,” he replied flatly as he finished the last drops of coffee in his hand. “What’s for dinner?”

“This isn’t a cafe!” you finally snapped irritably, placing your hands on your hips in annoyance. The heat was rising in your face, frustration with this man was eating away at your already frazzled nerves. 

“If it was, I’d order dessert too,” he said with a laugh. 

Who is this guy?

You huffed in frustration as you turned away from your guest to once again address the bubbling pot on the stove. Where did this man get the audacity to stroll in and make demands? You grumbled to yourself in frustration at the stove while keeping an eye at the smiling man sitting at your table. His entire presence felt out of place in your apartment, where you had usually spent your time alone. A chime from the other room caught your attention, and your guest groaned loudly to himself.

“Cancel dinner,” he said with heavy disappointment, calling your name from the table as he stood up from his seat. “We’ll have to make it another time, I’m being called away by Nanamin.”

He sighed with heavy exaggeration as he peered into his phone, likely reading messages from the sender. Your mind fluttered back to the blonde-haired man with the cleaver, a night that felt like a lifetime ago. You stepped back from Gojo, keeping your distance as he strolled back to the front door. He began putting on his shoes with a disappointed expression painted on his face. You clutched your wooden spoon close to your chest as you monitored the stranger getting ready to leave. Your stomach tied in knots as you silently prayed he would just leave you alone.

“Next time,” he said with a nod in your direction. He turned to catch your gaze once more and say goodbye as he crossed through the threshold. You leapt over to the front door and grasped the doorknob, catching Gojo’s surprised stare for a brief moment before slamming the door.

“Don't come back.”

-------------------------------------------------------------

The rays of the early morning sun fell at your feet as you stood amongst the crowd of suited professionals, awaiting the morning train into the city for work. The above ground platform was quiet and reserved as most of the passengers were still shaking off the night’s sleep. It was early in the day but the heat had already begun to smother the city. You smoothed your hands anxiously over the hem of your dress for the hundredth time, wiping away the sweat on your palms. Clutching your purse close, you prepared yourself to board the train as the station announced its arrival over the loudspeaker. The energy on the platform increased to a mild hum as the group shuffled onto the arriving train and found their spots to stand in the crowded cars. You squeezed between two suited men to position yourself in reach of a straphold for balance. Butterflies danced in your stomach as you watched the cityline pass, bringing you and your cohort closer to the heart of Tokyo. The early morning haze obscured the tops of the skyscrapers in the city, blending the mirrored glass into the bright morning sun. You ran through scenarios in your head, and mentally rehearsed what you would say, just as you had done in the mirror last night. 

The squeeze of passengers in the train car released as the train stopped at its first below ground station to release the initial round of workers into the city. In another few stops, you would arrive at your destination as well. The thought was nerve-wracking but you took deep breaths to steady yourself. This was your first job interview in ages. Your first job interview since what happened. Staring down at your black flat shoes, you questioned your choice of footwear but couldn’t find the original pair you had in mind. You had dug out a dress from the depths of your closet to prepare, finding only one to be suitable in your meager wardrobe. Once the cheery voice announced the arrival at your station, you stepped onto the bustling platform. Dozens of people swarmed around you dizzyingly as they walked in all different directions toward the various exits on the platform. You fell into step behind a chattering group of uniformed high school girls as they strolled to the stairs at the far end of the platform. At street level, you watched in awe at the number of people zigzagging across the main intersection as the light changed to green. Caught up in the crowd, you walked as one with the group toward your destination a few streets further. 

The towering skyscraper loomed above you as you verified the correct address on your phone. One more deep breath and you walked inside to speak with the woman at the front desk of the lobby. She guided you to the elevators and instructed you on how to reach the office where your appointment waited. The elevator ride left your stomach on the first floor, which didn’t help with your nerves. You looked at your reflection in the mirrored wall at the back of the elevator cab, one last inspection of your interview outfit. Flipping some of your long hair behind your shoulder, you held eye contact with your reflection. The haunted face that looked back at you weeks ago was a distant nightmare. The dark circles under your eyes had lifted, and your cheeks had a healthy flush. The girl under the bridge was unrecognizable now. 

There was a whirlwind of activity on the other side of the metal doors as you stepped out onto the floor of the office. Past the front reception desk, you could see Tokyo’s skyscrapers through the glass windows. A friendly young woman at the reception desk introduced herself as Shizuka, and escorted you to the office of the Sales Manager, Mr. Hamada. She gave you a wink and wished you luck as she sashayed back to the reception desk. You took a deep breath and entered the office. Introducing yourself, you followed your interviewer’s gesture and sat in the armchair in front of his desk. Mr. Hamada was a middle-aged man, smartly dressed and well-groomed with his receding hairline neatly combed to one side. His white shirt was pristine, uncreased. His printed tie was pinned in the center with precision. He had a deep, gruff voice when he introduced himself with little ceremony, briefly describing his position within the software company as the overseer of the sales department. With your hands folded in your lap, you set your shoulders straight and awaited his lead. He spoke at length about the job description and duties, rapidly running through a list of daily tasks that he expected to be completed. Mr. Hamada brusquely asked you questions about yourself but didn’t seem interested in your response as you recited your practiced lines. 

“Alright then,” he said suddenly, placing his hands on his desk as he stood from his chair.

You blinked in surprise as he walked past you and out of the office door.

“Well, come on then. Let’s introduce you to the employees.”

You leapt from your seat to follow closely behind him as he headed down a pathway toward a group of cubicles. Your heart was racing, face flushed with surprise and anxiety. You introduced yourself to a group of men and women, sitting in the cubicles and observing you with interest. The spying eyes were nerve-wracking, the attention was unexpected. Mr. Hamada gestured toward you and let his employees know about your new position as department assistant. The announcement was brief and matter of fact and received with a murmur of indifferent agreement. 

“Thank you,” you said to your new boss and coworkers. “I look forward to working with you all.”

Mr. Hamada called to the front desk, summoning Shizuka to return to the sales department. She returned with a big grin on her face, holding a sealed manilla folder for you. Her green eyes sparkled with delight as she took your elbow and guided you away from the cubicles and back toward the front of the office, chatting away about the files in the folder.

“And then we’ll call you, okay?” she asked, capping off her monologue. You nodded mutely, still in shock at the events. “Here, give me your phone.”  

Shizuka took your cell phone from your hands and popped her phone number into the messaging app. “Now we can be friends, too,” she said with a smile as she pressed the phone back into your hands. 

You thanked Shizuka profusely and made your way back onto the elevator, scarcely breathing. Shizuka waved at you from her desk, and you meekly waved back. Once the doors closed, you let out the breath you didn’t realize you had been holding. The folder in your hands trembled as you held it and pulled the first page out to see your name in bold letters. Taking care not to crease the papers, you returned it to the folder and tucked it safely into your purse. Your head spun with excitement as the realization began to set in. You covered your mouth with your hand, trying to hide the smile that was pulling at the corners, but you could scarcely contain your joy. You peeked at yourself in the elevator’s mirror, the smile on your face an unfamiliar sight. The ping of the elevator brought your attention back to the front, the doors opening to the grandiose main lobby of the building and in moments you had landed back on the bustling street, scurrying to the station to catch the next train home. You floated into an empty seat, your head in the clouds and thoughts racing excitedly. Both hands covered your face as you tried to hide your smile. 

The announcements from the speakers barely reached your ears to announce your stop had arrived. You skipped off the train, unable to contain your good mood. The thought crossed your mind to stop at the store on the way home, so you pivoted your route out of the station to head toward your local convenience store. Inside, the owner was chastising his teenaged grandson over a stack of unopened boxes of sweet bread. He stopped midsentence when you entered, nodding stiffly at your arrival before returning his attention to the indignant boy.

“Unpack these boxes!” the convenience store owner ordered, gesturing at the cardboard boxes stacked high. “I don’t pay you to play games on your phone all day.”

“Grandpa, relax,” the kid responded, rolling his eyes and adjusting his backward ballcap in annoyance. 

Hurriedly you dashed across the floor to where the owner had taken his place behind the register. 

“I got a new job!” you announced breathlessly, tears prickling your eyes. You bit your bottom lip at the sudden rush of emotion swelling in your chest.

“I knew you could do it,” he responded with an approving smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. 

You laughed, relief in your voice while you dabbed at your eyes with your fingers. 

“I’m sorry for bursting in so suddenly,” you said with a soft laugh. “I was excited to tell you.”

“Nonsense.” 

Grandpa had walked back around the counter and placed a warm, wrinkled hand on your forearm. “You’ve worked really hard for this. I’m glad to hear your good news.”

Crinkly wrapping was pressed into your hand, Grandpa had picked up a wrapped ice cream from the refrigerator and hid it in your hands. He placed one finger to his lips and waved you out the door with the other hand, gesturing for you to get going.

“Grandpa, seriously?” the grandson whined from his place behind the stack of boxes in the aisle. His expression was a combination of disbelief and annoyance, topped with an eyeroll for good measure. 

“Hush you!” You heard the owner shush his grandson as you walked past through the automatic doors of the exit.

The breeze rustled the leaves of the trees shading the sidewalk as you passed, stirring the chirping birds overhead. Between the branches, the birds bounced and chattered with one another. You watched with interest as you unwrapped your gift from the convenience store owner. The white crinkly wrapping paper revealed an ice cream cone, dipped in chocolate and decorated with nuts to look like the face of a bear. Cute, most likely a treat for kids, but appreciated nonetheless on this hot day. The first bite into the ice cream was crisp, a layer of chocolate with sweet and smooth vanilla beneath. The creamy flavors melted over your tongue and excited your tastebuds. Your heart fluttered in your chest, for the moment everything was looking up.

A sudden figure in your periphery made you stop in your tracks, whipping your head back where you came, to the convenience store side where a man leaned against the building with a cellphone pressed to his ear. You tensed your grip on the ice cream cone. Even from behind, it was unmistakable. That height, that white hair…

“Stalking is a crime, you know.”

“Or it would be if I were a stalker,” Gojo responded casually, putting the phone in his pocket. He switched a white plastic bag from one hand to another and smiled in your direction. “Let’s chat.”

“I’d rather not,” you replied, turning heel and continuing on your way. 

Gojo caught up to you in a few strides, falling in step beside you. He carried the bag in one hand, with the other cooly thrust into his pocket. He wore a loose white tshirt in the summer heat, black sunglasses obscuring his eyes. You stepped to the side as you walked, leaving distance between you so you could watch him from the corner of your eyes. Gojo smiled cheerfully as he walked on, his tall presence feeling unfamiliar in your neighborhood.

“It’s time we talk-,” he began again, freeing his hand to wave it convincingly in your direction. 

“There’s nothing to discuss,” you interrupted, an edge to your voice. “I’m trying to move past it, but here you keep popping up.”

You shot an annoyed glance in his direction before returning to your dessert. The taste of sweet didn’t reach your tongue anymore, thoughts consumed with the sorcerer walking casually beside you. Should you run?

“You’ll want to hear what I have to say, and I figured since you owe me dinner from the other ni-”

“What!” you choked, nearly spitting out the bite of ice cream you had in your mouth.

What an idiot.

“Or you could discuss why you came to Toyko last year.”

You snapped your attention to the sorcerer, his cocky tone stopping you in your tracks. He took another couple of steps before turning to look at you, your face wide-eyed and lips parted, unable to speak. The ice cream cone lay on the floor, shattered where it fell from your hand. The smile never left his face as he nodded his head toward the direction of your apartment. 

“I’m here to help,” he insisted, smiling widely. Warily, you continued on, falling back into step with Gojo through the streets leading to your apartment. 

The door swung open into your empty flat, brightly lit by the early afternoon sun pouring in from the balcony doors. Mechanically, you removed your shoes and let the tall sorcerer into your apartment wordlessly. He plopped the full plastic bag on the counter as he entered the kitchen.

“See, I even brought dessert this time. I didn’t know what kind of bread you liked, so I got a few.”

He clapped and rubbed his hands in anticipation as you reached into the sink to fill the kettle and light it on the stove. Gojo pranced along into the bedroom of your small apartment, inconspicuously checking the dark corners once again. You kept an eye on him from your place in the kitchen, heat rising in your face. Your stomach tied in knots and thoughts circled dizzyingly, nausea rising in your throat. Fear crept into your mind, like the icy numbness slowly filling the veins in your hands. 

Get out. Get out.

The thought crossed your mind as you watched the sorcerer poke through your plain bedroom. He was distracted, leaving the possibility to escape, make it out onto the street, and then…

No.

You were tired. Tired of feeling as though you were waiting for something inevitable. Something dangerous waiting for you around every corner. Moments away from peril. Away from grasping hands, sharp teeth, endless darkness, and blood…

You gripped your hands tight, knuckles white as you walked back to your bedroom where Gojo was peering through your balcony door at the empty space outside.

“Tell me what you want.” Your voice shook, struggling to hold it steady.

Gojo stood tall, looking at you eerily from behind his black spectacles. His face was dark, the shadow cast over his face as he eclipsed the rays pouring in from the balcony door. The smile was no longer on his face and had been replaced with a more serious look, his shoulders set toward you and a slight frown. 

“The monster that attacked you on the twenty-fourth of June was a special-grade curse, a strong one. We had been looking for it across the city, chasing its energy signatures to your neighborhood.” He paused for a moment, watching your face for a reaction. “Not only that, it seems that the other local curses received the same information as well, and traveled to this neighborhood.”

“Not since then,” you responded shakily, thoughts racing as you listened.

“Even so.”

You stared at one another for a moment, your shoulders tense and the anxiety knotting in your stomach.

“Why are you here?” you asked in a harsh whisper, flinching as Gojo took a step toward you.  

He eased himself into the seat he had occupied the night before, leaning his chin onto his hand. The white haired sorcerer looked at you once again from behind his dark sunglasses and broke into a knowing smile.

“Because I find you interesting.”

The statement took you by surprise, and for a moment you weren't sure you even heard him correctly. You released your hands, feeling the blood returning to your fingers. You struggled to find the words to respond before the kettle was whistling to call for your attention. Another moment of staring into the abyss of his sunglasses before returning to the kitchen, hiding your face. The confusion stuck in your chest, heavy and jumbled, as you reached on your toes for another cup from the cabinet. From his place at your table, Gojo tilted his dark sunglasses down his nose. Over the rim of his glasses, blue eyes peered at you from across the apartment, watching as you measured coffee by the spoonful with a puzzled look on your face. One blink and a menacing figure appeared, looming over you. From your waist, a smoky black trail wrapped itself and rose to reach the ceiling of your small kitchen. From your back protruded the wispy, gangly body, a formless smoke that hunched over your head, seemingly looking down though it didn’t appear to have eyes. You poured the hot water over the coffee grounds, a look of concentration, oblivious to the weight on your shoulders. Long spindly arms protruded from the body, slowly reaching forward, thin fingers ending in sharp points that crossed menacingly as it clawed in slow motion toward your throat…

Another blink and it was gone. You stood alone in the kitchen, stirring coffee into mugs and preparing the milk and sugar.

“Like I said, interesting,” Gojo whispered to himself. 

What lies between nothingness and eternity? The space between you and me.

Summary: [n/a yet]

c/w: descriptions of violence and blood, discussions about suicide/self harm

Tags: Gojo Satoru x F!Reader, Friends To Lovers, Strangers to Lovers, Romance, Angst, Fluff, Feels, smut probably later on

notes: this is the one with the content warnings! discussion of self harm may be triggering to some users. please take care <3

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Chapter 5 - Bound

I keep trying to sit down and write chapter seven but it’s not coming to me (づ-̩̩̩-̩̩̩_-̩̩̩-̩̩̩)づ