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“I get wet at the thought of you being a responsible guy”

Second part in my Sabrina carpenter inspired series

Frat!Nanami Kento x reader

Kento Nanami is not like the other guys in Gamma Delta.

The others leave empty cans on counters and call it “vibes.”

Nanami replaces the trash bag before it’s full.

The entire Naoya Zenin estate had gone silent the moment the servant announced the results. A girl. You sat stiffly on the engawa outside Naoya’s room, hands resting protectively over your stomach while anxiety twisted painfully in your chest. Because the Zenin clan did not celebrate daughters.

Not unless they were useful. Not unless they inherited something valuable. And even then, women in the clan were treated as lesser. You already knew what people whispered about you behind closed doors.

At least she gave him sons first. Two boys had secured your position enough to survive. Your eldest already followed Naoya around with wide admiring eyes, while your second son had inherited your calmer nature entirely. But this child? A daughter. You had spent the entire morning preparing yourself for disappointment. For coldness. For Naoya’s irritation.

The sliding door suddenly opened behind you. Servants immediately lowered their heads as Naoya Zenin stepped outside. Beautiful. Arrogant. Dangerous. His sharp gaze settled on you instantly. Then drifted toward your stomach. You braced yourself. Instead.

“She healthy?”

You blinked.

“What?”

“The baby,” Naoya said impatiently. “Is she healthy?”

The question caught you so off guard that it took a second to answer.

“Yes. They said everything looks fine.”

A strange silence followed. Naoya crouched in front of you, one arm draped lazily over his knee as he stared at your stomach with unreadable eyes.

“A girl,” he muttered.

You swallowed nervously. “If you’re unhappy—”

“Who said that?”

His tone snapped hard enough to make you flinch. Naoya noticed immediately. And irritation crossed his face, not at you. At himself. He clicked his tongue softly before reaching out, resting a hand against your stomach. The gesture was awkward. Unpracticed.

“She’ll have my face,” he decided.

You stared at him.

“That’s your concern?”

“Obviously.”

A tiny smirk tugged at his lips then.

“And if she inherits your eyes too, the clan’s finished.”

You could only blink at him in confusion. Because this wasn’t the reaction you expected. Not from him. Naoya leaned closer suddenly, voice lowering.

“They’ll try to treat her differently.”

The amusement in his expression disappeared entirely.

“And they’ll regret it.”

Your breath caught. You had seen Naoya cruel. Mocking. Merciless. But this? This was protective. Possessive. Dangerously sincere.

“She’s my daughter,” he said simply, like that alone should terrify the entire clan. “Nobody touches what belongs to me.”

The words should not have made warmth bloom in your chest the way they did. But then his hand slid carefully over your stomach again, slower this time. Almost gentle. And for a brief moment, the infamous heir of the Zenin clan looked strangely soft.

“What if she hates this place?” you asked quietly.

Naoya snorted.

“She’ll fit right in then.”

You laughed before you could stop yourself. His eyes flicked toward you immediately at the sound, sharp features softening almost imperceptibly.

“You’ve been worried all day over this?”

“A little.”

“That’s stupid.”

You glared weakly. “Naoya.”

“I mean it.” He stood, then tilted your chin upward firmly. “Boy or girl, she’s still mine.”

His thumb brushed your cheek once.

“She’ll be spoiled rotten.”

From inside the estate, your two sons came sprinting down the hallway after overhearing the news.

“Father! Is it true?!”

“A sister?!”

Your youngest nearly tripped over his own feet trying to reach you first. Naoya caught him one-handed effortlessly before the child faceplanted into the wooden floor.

“A little dignity,” he muttered.

But there was no real bite to it. Your eldest looked horrified suddenly.

“Wait… does this mean she’ll cry a lot?”

Naoya immediately answered.

“Probably.”

“And break things?”

“Yes.”

“And steal my stuff?!”

“Definitely.”

The boys gasped in betrayal. You covered your mouth trying not to laugh while Naoya smirked faintly beside you. Then, quieter, low enough only you could hear.

“She’ll be terrifying.”

╰┈➤ "𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐀𝐌 𝐈" You lived like any ordinary person, each day repeating like a loop. But everything changed the moment you woke up in a world you never dreamed of seeing.

"𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚙𝚞𝚛𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎? "

"𝚆𝚑𝚢 𝚖𝚎?"

"𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗'𝚝 𝚍𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜?!? "

"𝙿𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚙!"

*𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚌𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚍*

⋘ 𝚛𝚎𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚕𝚘𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐... ⋙

"𝙷-𝚑𝚞𝚑?"

If you're interested, check out my wattpad account : animefan4life22

Content: You’re his weak spot — the one he’d move mountains for. And when you’re not alright, he knows exactly how to fix it. But firstly, you get to meet his family.

Warnings: smut, fucking, hard fucking, he's calling you slut, confessions, rough fucking. different positions.

here's part 1 and part 3

the real game - chapter 12

for a moment, you just sat there.

exposed.

vulnerable.

your face bare for the first time on camera, and not just for anyone—for him.

sukuna.

the guy who'd pulled you upstairs at that party. the guy who'd made your skin burn with just a look. the guy who'd been obsessed with you online without knowing it was you.

and now he knew.

fuck.

your heart was pounding so hard you could hear it in your ears.

but then—

something shifted.

because the panic was fading, replaced by something else entirely.

adrenaline.

the kind that made your blood run hot. the kind that made you reckless.

you'd been caught.

fine.

but if you were going down, you were going down your way.

a slow smile spread across your face.

"so," you said, leaning back slightly, letting your hands trail down your sides. "you've been spending thousands of dollars on me."

s4d1st4u: and?

"and you didn't even know it was me." you laughed—sharp and a little mean. "how does that feel, baby?"

there was a pause.

then:

s4d1st4u: like i got exactly what i wanted

"oh yeah?" you tilted your head, your confidence building with every second. "and what's that?"

s4d1st4u: you

s4d1st4u: exactly like this

s4d1st4u: no mask. no hiding.

s4d1st4u: just you, looking at me like you want me to fuck you

your breath hitched.

because he wasn't wrong.

you did want him to fuck you.

you'd wanted it since that night in his room. since he'd looked at you like he was going to devour you whole.

but you weren't going to give him the satisfaction of admitting it.

not yet.

"big talk from a guy who's been jerking off to me for weeks," you said, your voice dripping with mock sweetness. "my little pay pig."

you watched the chat box.

waiting.

and then—

his camera flickered.

and turned on.

oh.

oh fuck.

he was shirtless.

you'd seen his chest before—during the last session—but this time it hit different.

broad shoulders. defined muscles. tattoos trailing down his arms and across his ribs.

and lower—

your eyes dropped.

he was hard.

so hard.

his hand was already wrapped around his cock, stroking slowly, and the sight of it made your thighs clench involuntarily.

"fuck," you breathed.

s4d1st4u: see something you like?

you swallowed hard, trying to keep your composure.

"maybe."

s4d1st4u: just maybe?

he stroked himself again, slow and deliberate, and you watched the way his abs flexed with the movement.

god.

"you're so fucking cocky," you said, but your voice came out breathier than you intended.

s4d1st4u: says the girl who just called me her pay pig

you grinned.

"well, aren't you?"

s4d1st4u: if that's what gets you off

s4d1st4u: then yeah

s4d1st4u: i'll be whatever you want

your pulse spiked.

because the way he said it—low and rough and honest—

it wasn't just dirty talk.

he meant it.

"prove it," you said, your confidence surging now. "show me how much you want me."

s4d1st4u: touch yourself

s4d1st4u: and i will

you bit your lip, your hand already sliding down your stomach.

"bossy."

s4d1st4u: you love it

and fuck, you did.

your fingers slipped beneath the lace of your panties, and you gasped softly at the contact.

you were soaked.

"jesus," you muttered.

s4d1st4u: let me see

you hesitated for half a second.

then you hooked your thumbs into the waistband and slid your panties down, kicking them off to the side.

his groan was audible through the speakers.

low and guttural and desperate.

"fuck, y/n."

hearing your actual name in his voice—not 'baby,' not 'sluttymommiee'—

it sent a shiver down your spine.

"say it again," you whispered.

"y/n."

god.

your fingers circled your clit, and you moaned softly, your head falling back.

"that's it," he said, his voice rough. "let me see you."

you spread your legs wider, angling yourself so he could see everything.

and you watched his reaction on screen.

the way his hand moved faster on his cock. the way his jaw clenched. the way his eyes were locked on you like you were the only thing in the world.

"you're so fucking wet," he said, almost in disbelief.

"your fault," you shot back, your fingers moving faster now.

s4d1st4u: good

s4d1st4u: i want you dripping

"greedy."

s4d1st4u: you have no idea

you laughed breathlessly, slipping two fingers inside yourself.

"oh fuck—"

s4d1st4u: that's it

s4d1st4u: fuck yourself for me

you obeyed, your fingers curling inside you, and the pleasure was sharp and immediate.

"sukuna—"

"say it again."

"sukuna," you moaned, louder this time.

and the sound he made—

fuck.

it was almost a growl.

"you have no idea how long i've wanted this," he said, his hand moving faster now, his breathing ragged. "how many times i've jerked off thinking about you."

"yeah?" you were panting now, your fingers moving in rhythm with his strokes. "thinking about what?"

"everything." his voice was strained. "your mouth. your tits. the way you'd sound when i made you come."

"and now you know," you said, your voice shaking. "was it worth all that money, pay pig?"

he laughed—dark and breathless.

"fuck yes."

you grinned, even as your orgasm started building.

"good," you said. "because you're going to keep paying."

s4d1st4u: whatever you want

s4d1st4u: i'll give you anything

and the way he said it—

desperate and honest and completely fucking gone—

it pushed you closer to the edge.

"i want you," you admitted, the words spilling out before you could stop them. "i want you to fuck me for real."

s4d1st4u: soon

s4d1st4u: but right now i want to watch you come

"sukuna—"

s4d1st4u: come for me, y/n

s4d1st4u: let me see it

your fingers moved faster, your other hand coming up to pinch your nipple, and the combination was too much.

"oh fuck—"

"that's it," he groaned. "fuck, you're so perfect."

"i'm—i'm gonna—"

"do it," he commanded. "come for me."

and you did.

your orgasm hit you like a wave, crashing over you so hard your vision blurred.

you cried out his name—his real name—and you watched him on screen as he stroked himself faster, his eyes locked on you.

"fuck, y/n—"

and then he came too.

his head fell back, his abs flexing, his hand moving in quick, desperate strokes as he spilled over his fist.

the sight of it made your aftershocks pulse harder.

god.

for a moment, neither of you moved.

just breathing.

just staring at each other through the screen.

and then you laughed.

breathless and a little disbelieving.

"well," you said, your voice hoarse. "that was—"

"overdue," he finished.

you grinned.

"yeah."

s4d1st4u: this changes things

"no shit."

s4d1st4u: i'm coming over

your heart stopped.

"what?"

s4d1st4u: you heard me

s4d1st4u: i'm done watching through a screen

s4d1st4u: i want the real thing

your pulse was racing again.

"sukuna—"

s4d1st4u: send me your address

you stared at the screen.

at him.

still shirtless. still flushed. still looking at you like he was going to ruin you.

and you realized—

you wanted him to.

"fine," you said, your voice steady despite the chaos in your chest. "but you're bringing food."

he laughed.

s4d1st4u: deal

s4d1st4u: see you soon, baby

the screen went dark.

and you sat there, alone in your room, your heart pounding and your body still trembling.

fuck.

this was really happening.

.

.

.

i have this story just recently posted on wattpad, my user is juststephieee. do not translate or post this anywhere without my permission.

like imagine: —a girl disguises herself as a boy to enter jujutsu high —gets placed in an all-male dorm —gojo is suspicious from DAY ONE but thinks it’s funny —geto definitely knows and says nothing —nanami keeps getting protective and doesn’t understand why —naoya is annoyed because why is this “boy” prettier than him??? —choso is having an emotional crisis —toji keeps flirting just to make everyone mad —and sukuna… sukuna immediately knows and decides to make it everyone’s problem 😭

the tension??? the jealousy??? the accidental close moments??? the almost-reveals at 2AM???

and then somehow EVERYONE falls for the female lead.

bonus points for: —slow burn —comedy —chaotic dorm energy —possessive moments —“there’s only one bed” —and a little spice 👀 OR A LOT!!!!!..hahahaha

Synopsis: In which the strongest and reader confess their feelings.

Themes: female reader, mutual pining, longing, HEAVY TENSION, some conflict, friends-to-lovers. Fluff, little bit of angst, kinda slow burn. Didn’t proofread but if you find something it’s definitely your eyes or screen 🙏 enjoy !

wc: 3.9k

—————————————————————————

When the news about floods and heavy rain rang through the halls of Jujutsu High, you never expected it to be much of an issue. Matter of fact, you thought it was like every other day during the Tsuyu season. Sighing, you took a look out the window from your classroom, coffee in hand, dreading the moment work is over before you’re drenched in rain.

You weren’t a teacher at Jujutsu High for long, only opting to take up the role since your long time friend and colleague, Gojo Satoru, was gone on missions quite often. When he came back, he was often tired and had discoloration around his eyes from the lack of rest, only for him to continue his work as normal, always putting a smile for his students in class. With you teaching, it gave him that time to rest a little extra before training his students one-on-one.

It wasn’t exactly a decision he agreed to, as he believed it was a burden he- as the strongest- should carry. It took many months before he finally considered your proposal. After all, you’d be safe at Jujutsu High, instead of fighting off curses in who knows where, right?

——————————————————————————

“Oh come on Satoru,” you pleaded, reaching up to his eye level before being stopped by his infinity.

“Promise sweets,” he said with a dramatic sigh, reaching out to ruffle your hair before swiftly and effortlessly dodging your swat at his hand. “I’m fine. I’m the strongest, after all!” He flashed you a grin, his tone both playful and self-assured. He took out some candy from his pocket, popping it into his mouth before putting another right above your lips, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. “C’mon, I know you want it.”

You frustratedly sighed, taking the candy and throwing it in the nearest trash bin. Crossing your arms, you gave him a pointed look as he quickly frowned, furrowing his brows in response. “Satoru, I’m bring serious. You can’t even tell me the last time you had 7-8 hours of rest. Or eaten a proper, nutritious, meal.” Emphasizing the last sentence, knowing he loves his sweets. (Of course the candy- not you. Right?) “Let me do this for you.” You pleaded, shoulders hanging in defeat.

His movements faltered for the slightest second before tilting his head back, humming in thought. “Well, I guess it’d be a nice vacation for you. Safer part of the job, no fighting curses, just keeping me company, aren’t ya?” His smirk all too knowing.

Sighing, you softly shook your head and rolled your eyes before giving him a look of worry. “I just.. I want to look out for you,”

He piped up in interest before swallowing another piece of candy he kept safely hidden. “Looking after the strongest will only get ya so far,” he teased, a smirk playing on his lips. “But why?” He asked, his tone shifting to genuine curiosity.

Now that, you couldn’t- wouldn’t- answer. Your friendship with Satoru was.. complicated. It was like walking a fine line between comfort and tension, one moment full of stolen glances and playful teasing, the next filled with casual flirtations- though, you were never really sure if that was just his way with everyone.

Most of the time, it was just Satoru pretending everything was fine when you knew he needed a break. He never let anyone see how much he carried, always wearing that smile. Most of the time, it was you two sitting atop of Jujutsu High, watching the sunset or laughing at a horror movie with stupid plots. Sometimes it was quiet walks to cafes or his favorite candy shops.

But right now? Now you weren’t sure if you’d ever be able to make a decision. You glanced at him, hesitation in your tongue. Finally, you sighed and muttered, “Because you’re an absolute idiot.”

——————————————————————————

“Attention all still at Jujutsu High,” a voice echoed through halls and classrooms, about 40 minutes after students resigned to their homes or designated rooms. “Weather conditions are not safe. I repeat, weather conditions are not safe. Please stay indoors until further notice.”

The thunder was almost impossible to miss, lightning making its way through the clouds, and heavy rain painting all that is Jujutsu High. Clearly, you weren’t going anywhere.

“Looks like I’m stuck,” you muttered, glaring out the rain-slick window. The storm outside almost seemed theatrical in its ferocity. Each flap of thunder rattled the walls of Jujutsu High, as if the world itself wanted to remind you that you couldn’t go anywhere.

A knock came from your door, an all too familiar one. Raising a brow, you sat up on your desk, crossing one leg over the other. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.” A voice chimed in as the door opened. A voice too familiar, too smooth and unmistakably teasing.

You softly smiled seeing him come through the door, noticing he decided to opt into more casual clothing rather than his usual uniform and black blindfold.

“Satoru,” you greeted, your voice steady, though your heart did a little flip at the sight of him. It was almost unfair how effortlessly good he looked, even in casual clothes. A black coat paired with a white shirt underneath and black pants tailored to fit his lengthy figure. His hair, usually spiked and tall, looked softer- almost as though he hadn’t bothered fixing it before coming to see you.

He closed the door behind him with an air on nonchalance, leaning back as he crossed his arms. “Missed me already, sweets?” He teased, his lips curling into a lazy grin.

“You mean in the forty minutes since we last spoke?” You quipped, resting your chin in your hand, playfully grinning at him. “I’m not sure if I could have bared any longer without you.” You teased right back, your tone light but betraying a flicker of something deeper.

Satoru’s grin widened, his ego soaking up the attention as he leaned casually against your desk. “See? I knew you couldn’t resist me. I’m the highlight of everyone’s day as the strongest, after all.”

You rolled your eyes, but the playful glint in his expression made it impossible to look away. “Highlight? More like a recurring inconvenience.”

“Ouch.” He placed a hand over his heart, feigning hurt. “And here I thought we were bonding. Guess I’ll just take my charm elsewhere.”

You chuckled, putting your hands up in defense. “Don’t let me stop you.” You replied, though the words lacked bite. If anything, the thought of him leaving sent a pang of disappointment through you. You quickly masked it with a smirk, hoping you wouldn’t notice.

But Satoru didn’t move. He stayed rooted in his place, his usual easy grin faltering just slightly. His gaze lingered on you for a moment longer than it should have, softening in a way that felt almost too intimate. The playful banter that defined so many of your interactions seemed to melt away, leaving something raw and unspoken.

“Actually,” he said, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant, “I think I’ll stick around.”

There was a weight to his words, a vulnerability that didn’t match his usual carefree demeanor. His tone lacked the teasing lilt you’d grown so used to, and it caught you off guard.

You glanced up at him, expecting another sly remark, but what you found instead made your chest tighten. His eyes, visible beneath his tinted glasses, were fixed on you- not with his usual amusement, but with a kind of longing he didn’t bother to hide. The storm outside roared, but in the silence between you, it felt like the world had shrunk to just the two of you.

For a second, you thought he might say something else, something you weren’t sure you were ready to hear. But instead, he shifted slightly, running a hand through his hair in what felt like an attempt to break the tension.

“I mean, who else is going to put up with me in a storm like this?” He added, the teasing edge returning to his voice, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

You let out a shaky breath, a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, your own emotions swirling just as chaotically as the weather outside. “Lucky me,” you managed, keeping your tone light even as your heart raced.

He smiled faintly, but it wasn’t his usual playful smirk. It was softer, tinged with something you couldn’t quite name. And as he leaned casually against the edge of your desk, the space between you felt charged. Like both of you were waiting for something to happen- a shy confession, a flirt, maybe even something more- something neither of you dared to name.

Thunder shook the walls of Jujutsu High, causing your desk to slightly tremble. The sound echoed in the silence, as if the storm itself was urging something to break.

Suddenly clearing your throat, you forced yourself to look away, breaking the eye contact that held you captive.

“Well!” You quipped, trying to shake off the heaviness in the air. Satoru’s gaze was no longer on you, but rather the rain outside. His features were softened against the dim light, his jaw- that was usually relaxed and quick to smile, tightened for just a moment- barely noticeable if you hadn’t been watching him so closely.

“You’re unusually quiet,” you ventured, your tone light but curious. It wasn’t like him to let silences linger, especially not around you.

He let out a low hum, finally turning his head toward you. “Just thinking sweets,” he said, his voice smoother now, though something about it felt guarded.

“Thinking?” you echoed, raising a brow. “That’s a dangerous pastime for someone like you.”

His lips quirked into a smirk, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Funny,” he murmured, taking a step closer to your desk, his fingers brushing the wood as if testing its solidity—or maybe just grounding himself. “But even I have my moments.”

You tilted your head, studying him carefully. The Satoru you knew was always confident, always teasing, always larger than life. But now, under the weight of the storm, there was something quieter about him, something you weren’t used to seeing.

“Care to share?” you asked softly, folding your arms across your chest.

He hesitated, just for a second, his hand stilling on your desk. His glasses reflected the flicker of lightning outside, masking his eyes, but you could feel the intensity of his gaze all the same.

“Not much to share,” he said finally, though his tone lacked its usual bravado. “Just wondering how many more storms we’ll have to sit through before someone…” He trailed off, his smirk fading into something softer, almost wistful. “…does something about it.”

Your heart stuttered at his words, at the way they felt so much bigger than the weather outside. You opened your mouth to respond, but the words caught in your throat, drowned out by the thunder that rattled the walls once more.

“Maybe… hypothetically,” you began, your voice softer now, as if testing the waters, “a little push could help. You know, fire things up, I suppose.”

Satoru’s lips quirked into a small smile, but there was something unreadable in his expression, something that made your cheeks burn. “A little push, huh?” he echoed, his tone low and teasing, though there was an edge to it, like he was daring you to say more.

You shrugged, trying to maintain your composure under the weight of his stare. “I mean, sometimes things just… need a spark to get going. Isn’t that what storms are for?”

His fingers drummed lightly against the desk, his gaze never leaving you. “Careful,” he murmured, his voice dipping just enough to send a shiver down your spine. “Playing with fire can be dangerous.”

“Maybe,” you countered, leaning back slightly to put some space between you, though the tension still thrummed in the air. “But isn’t that what makes it exciting?”

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the words hanging between you like the crackle of lightning in the storm. His smile faded into something softer, something that felt almost too raw to look at.

“You’re something else, you know that?” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. His words hung in the air for a moment, heavy and unshakable. “The storm.. it wouldn’t be easy.”

His gaze, fixed on you, was softer now, stripped of its usual teasing confidence. It was as if he wasn’t just talking about the weather anymore, and the weight of his unspoken thoughts sent a ripple of unease and anticipation through you.

You swallowed, your heart racing as you tried to decipher the layers behind his words. “No,” you replied quietly, your voice barely steady. “It wouldn’t be easy. But that doesn’t mean it’s not worth facing.”

His lips parted slightly, as though your response had caught him off guard. For once, he didn’t have a quick comeback, no smirk to hide behind. Instead, he shifted, stepping just a little closer, the space between you shrinking with each beat of the thunder outside.

“Sometimes storms destroy everything in their path,” he murmured, his voice so low it was almost lost beneath the rain hammering against the windows. “And sometimes… they make things clearer. Wash it all clean.”

You felt your breath hitch at the rawness in his tone, the vulnerability he rarely allowed to show. “Which one is this?” you asked softly, your voice carrying a hint of challenge but also something more—hope.

He hesitated, his fingers curling into a loose fist as though he were holding himself back. “That depends,” he said finally, his gaze never wavering from yours. “On whether you think it’s worth the risk.”

Every word, every glance, felt like it could tip the fragile balance you were both clinging to. “I do,” you whispered, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

And for the briefest of moments, Satoru looked like he might close the distance entirely, the hesitation in his eyes giving way to something fierce, something undeniable.

The storm outside roared, the thunder cracking loud enough to rattle the glass panes, but neither of you flinched. Instead, the silence between you seemed louder, charged with all the things you wanted to say but couldn’t find the courage to voice.

“You’re serious,” he murmured, almost to himself, the faintest edge of disbelief in his tone. His hand moved instinctively, brushing against the desk before retreating, as if he wasn’t sure whether to close the gap between you or hold himself back.

“Would I have said it if I wasn’t?” you countered, your voice steadier than you felt.

His gaze searched yours, his usual cocky exterior stripped away, leaving nothing but raw vulnerability. It was rare to see him like this, rare for him to let the mask slip. And yet, here he was, standing before you as if the storm outside had laid him bare.

“You really don’t get it, do you?” he asked, his voice barely audible, almost swallowed by the rain.

“Get what?” you pressed, your heart hammering in your chest.

He exhaled sharply, his hand running through his hair in frustration. “That I’m not afraid of the storm out there,” he said, nodding toward the rain-soaked window. “I’m afraid of the one in here.” His hand moved, just slightly, as if to gesture to the space between you, the unspoken feelings that hung like static in the air.

“I’ll be busy almost all the time, and the little time I do get, it’s to rest and train my students..” he began, worry filling his eyes. “And where would that leave time for you? For us?”

The confession hit you like a bolt of lightning, sudden and blinding. Your throat tightened as you tried to find the words, but nothing came.

“Satoru…” you started, but the sound of his name on your lips made him flinch, as if it carried too much weight, too much meaning.

He looked away, the flicker of worry in his eyes dimming as if he’d said too much. “It’s not fair to you,” he continued, his voice quieter now, almost drowned out by the rain. “To expect you to be okay with… scraps of my time, with someone who can’t even promise to be around when it matters most.”

Your chest ached at the way his voice cracked on the last word, his usual confidence nowhere to be found. He wasn’t just pushing you away—he was scared. Scared of letting you in, of not being enough.

“Satoru,” you repeated, the sound of his name pulling his gaze back to yours. His expression faltered, the weight of his insecurities etched into every line of his face.

“Don’t,” he murmured, his hand lifting as though to stop you, but he didn’t pull away when you stepped closer.

“You don’t get to decide what’s fair for me,” you said firmly, the words tumbling out before you could second-guess them. “I know what this is—what we are. And I don’t care how busy you are, or how little time you think you have. I care about you, Satoru. Isn’t that enough?”

His eyes widened, his composure slipping further as the tension between you reached a breaking point. The storm outside seemed to echo the chaos in your chest, the thunder roaring like an unspoken promise waiting to be fulfilled.

“You make it sound so simple,” he said, a faint, shaky laugh escaping him. But there was no mistaking the way his shoulders relaxed, the way his hand finally reached out to rest on the edge of your desk, inches from yours.

“Maybe it is,” you replied, your voice steady despite the rapid thrum of your heartbeat. “Maybe you’re the one making it complicated.”

For a moment, he just stared at you, the vulnerability in his eyes giving way to something warmer, something that made your breath catch. His hand shifted, fingers brushing against yours—hesitant, tentative, like he was afraid to cross the line but couldn’t stop himself.

His fingers lingered against yours, warm and tentative, before he finally laced them together. The subtle touch sent a jolt through you, more powerful than any thunder outside. His grip tightened slightly, as though he feared letting go would mean losing something he couldn’t afford to.

“You really think it’s that easy?” he asked, his voice quieter now, yet laced with an edge of disbelief.

“I think you’re worth it,” you said simply, the words carrying more conviction than you thought possible. “I’m not asking for perfect. I’m asking for real—for you. Isn’t that enough?”

He let out a breath he didn’t seem to realize he was holding, his free hand brushing through his hair in a rare display of vulnerability. The usual smirk that would have accompanied your boldness was nowhere to be found. Instead, his lips parted slightly, his brows furrowed, as though trying to comprehend the weight of your words.

“You have no idea what you’re signing up for,” he muttered, shaking his head. But his fingers stayed locked with yours, betraying the battle between his mind and his heart. “It’s messy. I’m messy.”

“Then I guess I’ll learn to handle messy,” you replied without hesitation, stepping closer. The space between you was nearly nonexistent now, the storm outside a mere echo to the one building between you. “You don’t have to do this alone, Satoru.”

His jaw clenched, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. “You’re not making this easy,” he said, his voice wavering.

“Good,” you said, your tone soft but resolute. “Because the things that matter never are.”

For a moment, his expression cracked, his usual cool façade shattering under the intensity of your gaze. His hand let go of the desk and rose slowly, hesitantly, as if unsure of its place. But then his fingers brushed against your cheek, his touch featherlight, like he was afraid you’d disappear if he pressed too hard.

“Why do you have to be so damn stubborn?” he asked, but there was no malice in his words, only a quiet reverence that made your heart skip.

“Because someone has to be,” you whispered, leaning into his touch without thinking.

The silence stretched between you, charged and trembling, until he finally broke it. “You’re going to ruin me,” he said, the faintest hint of a smirk returning to his lips.

“Maybe,” you said, your voice a little breathless. “But isn’t that what makes it exciting?”

And then, before either of you could second-guess it, he closed the distance, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that felt both hesitant and inevitable, like the meeting of two storms destined to collide.

His lips were warm against yours, soft and deliberate, like he was testing the waters of something he had fought against for too long. The world outside seemed to dissolve—the thunder, the rain, even the walls of Jujutsu High—leaving only the two of you in the center of it all.

When he pulled back, it was barely an inch, his forehead resting against yours as his breath mingled with your own. His hand still cradled your cheek, thumb brushing gently along your skin as though grounding himself in the reality of this moment.

“I’m not sure what’s scarier,” he murmured, his voice hoarse with emotion. “The storm outside or how much I don’t want to let you go.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and you smiled softly, your hand reaching up to cover his where it rested against your cheek. “Then don’t,” you whispered, your voice steady despite the chaos of feelings threatening to overwhelm you.

He closed his eyes, exhaling deeply as though he was surrendering to something he’d fought for too long. “You make it sound so easy,” he said, the corners of his lips twitching into the faintest smile.

“It doesn’t have to be hard,” you replied, letting your fingers trail down to intertwine with his again. “We’ll figure it out—together. Like we always have.”

The vulnerability in his eyes was replaced by something lighter, something hopeful, and it made your chest tighten. For once, Satoru Gojo—the strongest sorcerer you knew—looked like a man who believed he could rely on someone else.

“Together,” he repeated, the word rolling off his tongue like a promise.

The sound of thunder rumbled again, but this time it felt distant, less intrusive. Satoru straightened, his hand slipping from your face but staying firmly locked with yours.

“Well, we’ve already survived one storm,” he said, his usual teasing tone creeping back as he gestured to the window. “What’s a few more, right?”

You chuckled, shaking your head at him. “Always so dramatic.”

His grin widened, though it didn’t quite mask the sincerity lingering in his eyes. “You wouldn’t have me any other way.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t fight the smile tugging at your lips. “Unfortunately, I wouldn’t.”

The two of you stood there for a moment longer, the storm outside gradually fading into a softer rhythm. It wasn’t a resolution to everything—there were still obstacles ahead, uncertainties and fears to navigate—but it felt like the beginning of something real.

Satoru squeezed your hand, pulling you toward the door with a newfound ease in his step. “Come on,” he said, flashing you a playful smirk. “Let’s see if we can find something to eat before the next storm rolls in. And maybe you can tell me how you plan to ‘handle messy.’”

You laughed, letting him lead the way. “Oh, you’ll see.”

And as the two of you walked down the hall, hand in hand, you couldn’t help but feel that maybe, just maybe, the storms were worth it after all.

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