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minbells · 2 months

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౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ BLAME IT ON THE BLACK STAR — hayakawa aki

summary . . . maybe aki’s in the wrong for all the mixed signals he sends you, but it’s your fault for always picking up the phone.

contents . . . f!reader, angst, complicated relationships, smoking, miscommunication, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, ambiguous ending, hurt/comfort i suppose — 5.6k

notes . . . this is my first time writing for aki so pls be nice i’m nervous hdjwjwk <33 i’m not all the way caught up w csm so it might be inaccurate idk

Aki calls you, sometimes, when he’s feeling lonely. You figure, by now, he must have your number memorized, with how frequently your phone ends up ringing.

Of course, you always pick up, knowing you shouldn’t, knowing it’ll just end up hurting. But you can’t help yourself, really. You’re incredibly weak for a man that you know will never commit his life to you. You learned that lesson a long time ago.

Still, you’re a fool who refuses to move on.

Instead, you stand, shivering in the cold in front of Aki’s door, waiting for him to answer it. The lights are off in the apartment — you have no idea where his new roommates are for the evening, but they clearly aren’t there. Aki wouldn’t have called you otherwise; you’re certain he doesn’t want anyone to know about the two of you, save for those that have known since the beginning.

Heavy footsteps pad across the floor, and then the lamp in the hallway flicks on, illuminating the threshold in a beam of yellow. The door unlatches, opening just a crack, as his blue eyes drift down to trail over you.

“You got here faster than I thought.”

“I’m freezing, Aki,” you say, pushing through the door. His palm falls away, rests at his sides. Its only eight o’clock, but he’s already in sweatpants, a loose sweatshirt hanging over his tall frame. Dark hair falls across his cheeks, still damp from his earlier shower.

“Sorry,” he says, shutting the door behind him. “I was in the bathroom.”

You don’t reply, and shrug your coat off instead, hanging it on the rack that is now full of jackets that don’t belong to him. But you’re barely able to get it onto the hook before Aki has a palm around your wrist, tugging you towards him, the smell of his body wash and shampoo lingering in a cloud around him.

A little welp of surprise leaves you as you spin around, nearly falling into his chest. Instead, you collide with his mouth, the heat already settling down on you as heavily as it always does when Aki is around.

He kisses you, long and hard, hungry for the taste of you, his head craned down to meet your height. For a moment, you let him. It’s sweet and familiar, all the things you’ve ever wanted.

In moments like these, you indulge in thoughts of a life where things are different. A life where Aki can greet you at the door, smile when you kiss him, instead of the pensive expression he always wears. A life where Aki doesn’t come home with new scars every few days, where he isn’t hell-bent on a goal you’re not sure he can ever achieve.

That dream of yours won’t ever become a reality, but it doesn’t stop you from savoring the taste of his mouth against your own — how much you’ve missed it, even when you shouldn’t.

When you’ve run out of air to breathe, you push him away, and Aki stands straight, blinking like he doesn’t know what he’s done wrong.

“Not even going to offer to make me dinner?” you ask, keeping him at a distance. Although you meant for it to sound playful, teasing, it comes off full of a bitter resentment. Your face is probably drawn up into a scowl, even if you can’t see it.

Aki blinks, rubbing his forearm. His lips part, then he shuts them, furrowing his eyebrows together. “You said you were cooking — over the phone, you said you’d already eaten.”

“Well, at least you remember that.”

Confusion spreads even further, tighter, stretching to every corner of his expression. Aki’s hands twitch listlessly at his side, just as his mouth does. “Are you upset with me?” he asks, and you know he’s smarter than that, that he might not be the most sensitive to others’ emotions, but he is certainly no fool when it comes to yours. “If you didn’t want to come over tonight, I wasn’t forcing you.”

A laugh almost escapes you — instead, you muster up a cool grimace. Like you aren’t going drop everything for Aki every time he says I don’t want to be alone tonight.

Really, it was laughable how tightly he had you in the palm of his hand, and you can’t fathom that he would think otherwise. You’ve always done whatever he needed; given him whatever he wanted.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were in the hospital?” you ask finally, swallowing back your annoyance as you gesture towards the bandage around his arm. It’s wrapped up tight, but the bandages are fresh, still a starched white.

His eyebrows tighten further. The air around him changes, even though his expression doesn’t. “Who told you about that?”

“Himeno.”

Aki purses his lips. “I didn’t realize you two were friends now.”

You did laugh then, shaking your head as you make your way into the living room, looking for any subtle changes in his apartment. There are new pairs of shoes that certainly don’t belong to him, a sweatshirt that looks about two sizes too small.

“I wouldn’t really say we’re friends,” you shrug, not bothering to look at him. The air in the room is somehow off-putting, and you take it in like it’s the first you’d ever seen of the place. “But how else am I supposed to find out if you’re still alive?”

You give him a sad little smile, and slowly, the irritation seeps out of his face, his shoulders slumping. He looks tired, then — far too old for a man that is still so young.

“It wasn’t that serious. I’m fine now, aren’t I?” Aki gestures to his arm, flails it wildly, as if to prove it’s still working properly. “Just a scratch.”

“It is serious. It’s serious to me,” you say, narrowing your eyes, and though his tone is warmer, he doesn’t smile at you, not like he used to. He maintains a vague air of surprise, while dampening any emotion that could cloud over his lack of understanding. It annoys you to no end, that he won’t let you see him.“I’m always worried about you, idiot. Don’t act like you don’t know how I feel about you.”

Aki blinks, then draws his lips together in a thin line, shaking his head. Although you were pointedly avoiding each other’s gazes, you could feel the tension drawing you together like a cord.

God, you missed him every time you were apart. You went to your regular job, thought all day about the man who would never love you like you loved him, wondering if he was okay, if he’d pick up the phone and call you again next week. Or if, one day, it would be Himeno instead, telling you that you’d never see him again — or, god forbid, Makima, with her careless tone of authority. That thought alone haunts you even with your eyes open.

But for now, it’s still Aki who calls you, and every time, you are overwhelming relieved to hear the sound of his voice again. Heavy tears always drop down your cheeks as you dig the phone into your ear, wishing that it was his mouth there instead, and wishing that those pretty blue eyes still looked at you with the same sort of softness they once had.

“I told you…” Aki begins sharply, but then he trails off, finally meeting your gaze. His features pinch once more, melodramatic, as he scans the sadness that you could never hide in your expression. “Damn it.” Car lights flash over his face through the window as someone drives past the apartment complex. The darkness of the room becomes even more evident when they disappear.

“I know,” you say, resigned, as you watch him scrub his hands over his face, and inhale heavily. It’s hard for you to keep your emotions from getting the best of you. “You’ve reminded me — many times. I know this doesn’t mean we’re back together. I know, Aki.”

His jaw parts, lips faltering at the beginning of a phrase. Despite his tall frame, he falters, looking so small, as sadness filters into the eyes that shine a deep navy in the shade of the evening. Beside him his fingers twitch, curling up into his palm, before he takes two long strides towards you.

The mere second it takes him to get there passes without your memory, and your back hits the door to his bedroom, softly, as he looms over you, fingers brushing your cheeks.

A thousand times you’ve been in this position, and it’s so familiar that your hand reaches up instinctively, splaying across his chest. Aki’s breaths leave him, deeply, expanding through his lungs before he exhales them across your cheekbones, oxygen splitting at the bridge of your nose. “What’s wrong?” you ask quietly, blinking up at him from under your lashes.

“That’s not what I meant.” His voice comes out on a hoarse whisper.

“Hm?” You dig your fingers into his sweatshirt, the material thick and warm. “What did you mean?”

Tenderly, his thumb brushes across the hollows of your cheek, the sharp bone that juts out. Aki’s fingertips are so rough and calloused, but that familiarity brings a sob out of you, your hands springing up to grab his wrists. “That I’m not fooling anyone,” Aki says, swallowing, eyes roaming all over your face. “That I can’t stay away from you, no matter how hard I try.”

Your lips part, but your breath is stolen away by another kiss, blanketing your mouth, warm and with an emotion that you’re certain you can taste. It takes you less than a moment for you to close your eyes, to relax into him as always, melt into his familiarity. The taste of the cigarettes he smokes lingers on his tongue, seeping deep into your own lungs.

As he bumps his nose with your own, you reach up, run your fingers through his hair, untangling all the knots that have accumulated since his shower. At the same time, Aki palms at the door behind you, not bothering to look up as he fumbles for the door handle, slipping it open.

Aki always kisses you like it’s the last time he’ll ever do it, struggling to unglue you from himself. He kisses you like he knows he’s going to leave again, and it might be for the very last time.

It’s a sickening emotion to live with, but you’ve accepted it all the same.

You ignore the feelings that never leave you alone when you’re with Aki, and stumble backwards into the room, feet catching under you. Although you nearly fall, Aki catches you, arms heavy around your waist, large palm spreading across your lower back.

“You’re so pretty,” he says, nearly carrying you to his bed. The two of you latch so tightly onto the other, that you will surely go tumbling down if either of you makes the wrong move. “I’ve never met anyone as pretty as you.”

“Aki,” you mumble, shaking your head. “I don’t want to hear that.”

He stumbles, and you do fall onto the bed, then, his heavy body on top of you, landing with a thud. But he’s careful to catch himself, to tuck his arms into the space beside you, as he kisses across your cheeks, down your neck, to your chest.

“Why?” he asks into your skin, voice low and rough. “You don’t think you’re pretty?” his tone is dry, sarcastic. Aki’s fingers fumble with the zipper on your jeans, slipping your pants off faster than you can inhale a fresh set of air into your lungs. “Want me to prove it to you?”

Despite your lingering resentment, you crack a smile, shift your hips so he can pull your bottoms off completely. “Aren’t you afraid you’ll fall in love with me again?” you say off-handedly, running your hands along the edge of his shirt, before slipping cold fingers under it. His skin is hot there, abdomen soft, muscle just as lean as it was last week, but stronger than when you’d first met him.

Aki’s eyes soften. “Why would I be afraid of a thing like that?”

You don’t like the double meaning in his words, and you don’t want to read into it. Instead, you pull Aki back down to your mouth, hoping he’ll take and take from you, even though he’s always one to give. The one who calls you, who needs to be inside of you, but won’t worry about himself until you’ve come apart at least once.

“Feels like it’s been a while since I’ve seen you,” he says, pushing your thighs further apart, muttering the words against your lips. His fingers graze the outside of your panties, as you slowly begin to wet them with desire that burns hot in your stomach. “I missed you.”

You feel his smile curl as he kisses across your chest, around your collarbones, and you sit up far enough to slide your shirt off. Aki does the same — there are fresh scars on his body, healing wounds. You can’t look at them for too long, before grief rises up in you, mourning a man that is not yet dead.

“Whose fault is that?” you ask bitterly, pushing the top of his head to sink him to your thighs. Instead, he takes his time pressing his mouth around your belly, swirling his tongue just past your hips.

A sigh leaves you, and you sink deeper into the mattress, eyes blinking closed. He’s so slow, so deliberate with every movement, like he’s been waiting all of this time just to lose himself in you. Ridiculous, really, considering that he could have you at anytime, and he knows it.

You’d hate him for it, for stringing you along like this, but that would be hypocritical, really. You’re the fool that continues to play the game.

Aki ignores your passing comment, squeezing your thighs as his face drifts down your body. His hair brushes against your bare skin, still a bit damp, but so soft, the scent of his soap so familiar you could pick out the shampoo with your eyes closed.

“Want my fingers or my mouth first?” Aki whispers into the inside of your thigh, kissing the delicate skin there as he looks up at you from under thick, black lashes. They flutter over his cheekbones, the hollows of his eyes, and he’s so pretty… it’s no wonder you’re so far gone for him. “Since you’re in such a mood tonight, I’ll let you choose.”

There’s a tiny smirk on his face, and even though you’re about to answer, Aki takes it upon himself to kiss your cunt through your panties, the fabric sticking to your skin.

“A-aki,” you stutter, caught off-guard, fingers lacing through his hair, nails scratching against his scalp. “You didn’t give me a chance to answer.”

He drags his tongue up your clothed cunt, wetting it even further, so you can’t tell if you’re soaked from his spit or your own arousal. “I picked instead. Like the way you moan when my mouth’s on you,” he says off-handedly, and heat rushes to your cheeks as you stare at the ceiling, still so shy when it comes to his dirty mouth. “No one’s here,” Aki continues, words vibrating against the bone, puffs of air drifting around your sensitive area. “Want you to be loud.”

A tiny laugh escapes you, but it is quickly stolen by a whimper as he sucks your clit into his mouth through the cotton of your underwear, an old pair that was anything but sexy. Although, you’ve known Aki for so long, been with him for so long, there’s never any reason to try and impress him.

“Feels good,” you say, closing your eyes as you rest on the pillow. Aki pushes his tongue against your hole, teasing. His fingers dig deeper into the flesh of your thighs, keeping them from locking around his head as you search for more friction. Your chest rises and falls with the heat of your breathing, but Aki doesn’t let you rub yourself against his tongue, doesn’t let you move much, really. “Aki,” you whine, and though there are times when he doesn’t let you get your way, this isn’t one of them.

“So impatient,” he says cheekily, but he slips your panties to the side, your cunt vulnerable to the frigid winter air. You shiver, and he sinks his tongue into you completely, the heat of it warming you as he swirls it inside, spreading you further open with his fingers.

Your body grows hot all over when Aki thrusts his tongue in and out of your aching walls, your juices seeping onto his tongue. He moves slowly, savoring every moment that you’re in his bed, even as you try to arch into him, speed him up so that you can orgasm faster. He’s right: you are impatient, because it’s been days since you’ve last felt him inside of you, and nothing feels as good as Aki’s thick fingers and cock.

His nose bumps your clit as he drags his tongue in a thick stripe up your cunt. A moan leaves you, and without thinking, you jerk your hips up, forcing them towards his face. The sound from your chest is so lewd, and you’ll feel shy about how loud you were later, but all you can think about is his mouth on you.

Aki smiles, kisses the inside of your thigh. When he lifts his head, the ache inside you burns deeper, the sight of him with saliva and fluid dripping down his chin almost too much for you to handle. “Taste so good,” he hums, massaging the skin around your knees, hoisting your calves up over his shoulder blades. “Think you can cum from just my tongue, baby? You’re so pent up, I don’t think you can last much longer.”

You whimper, pressing your heels into his back as Aki’s tongue resumes lapping up your cunt, long and hot, massaging the most sensitive spots inside of you. You can tell he’s hard, aching as he shifts his hips awkwardly, trying not to press them in the bed.

Aki picks up his speed, head bobbing slightly as the heat insides of you builds; normally, you would’ve lasted longer, but you can’t remember the last time you’ve even touched yourself, and your most recent orgasm must have been with Aki.

You don’t tell him when you’re close, but he already knows, sucking harder on your clit as you finally come, body jerking into him, walls spasming. Your eyes squeeze shut, and his name leaves your lips much quieter than he would’ve liked.

“You’re so fucking hot,” Aki says, tugging off his sweatpants, the only layer between you and his cock. His dark hair is slightly mussed from your fingers, the way you’d pulled at him, tried to guide him where you wanted him, even if he already knew. “So easy for you to get me hard, you know that?” His cock is leaking at the tip, desperate for release, and you haven’t even touched him yet. “Just the thought of you spread out like this is enough.”

A desperate whine leaves you, and you reach behind, unclasping the straps of your bra, the last remaining garment between you and Aki. He grins at that, his canines so sharp, teeth a little crooked, but the prettiest smile you’d ever seen because you see it so rarely.

“Gonna play with those pretty tits while I fuck you, baby?”

“Fuck, Aki, please,” you groan, reaching for him, pulling his mouth to your own. You kiss him hard, hoping that he knows you love him, and hoping that he feels guilty about that fact. “Want you inside me. God, I need you so bad.”

He presses his forehead to your own, lining his cock up with your entrance, the head prodding at your gaping walls. You get so sensitive, even from just one orgasm, that you wince a little bit. But the uncomfortable feeling eases as he presses into you, kisses you sweetly.

“Fuck, fuck,” Aki groans, biting down hard on your shoulder. “God, you’re so wet, so warm. You feel so good around my cock, baby. Such a pretty girl for me.”

Your nails dig into his back as he slides, slowly, out of you, before he thrusts back in, still not rough enough for your liking. Aki’s hair falls around his face, his mouth parting just a bit, focus dilating his irises. His biceps flex as he holds himself off the bed, snapping his hips into your aching cunt.

“H-harder,” you mumble, trying not to shout, to moan too loudly into the open air of the evening. Aki’s walls are far too thin, and his neighbors know who you are. The last thing you want is for them to see you as Aki’s fuck-buddy that moans like a bitch in heat. “Please, sweetheart.”

Aki groans, a deep sound that reverberates all the way from his chest down to his stomach. The affectionate name twists something up in him, and Aki thrusts his hips faster, kisses your forehead, your cheeks, any part of your skin that he can get his mouth on. His hair tickles your jaw, nose nudging against your face as he mumbles into your skin, “so needy, aren’t you? I want to take my time with you, and you just want to get off.”

“Can’t help it, Aki,” you say, squeezing your eyes shut tight as you buck your hips upward. “God, you feel so good, I lo—”

You stop the words from leaving your mouth, but Aki already knows. He’s known it for a while now, and you should be embarrassed by the fact that you can’t let him go.

Wide blue eyes stare back at you, full of something you can’t define, but still so soft as he pulls away. He draws you closer, slides your legs around his hips before pinning your own to the bed with large, heavy palms. Aki’s built with all lean muscle, and he’s so tall — so much taller than you that it’s easy to forget because he treats you so gently. Still, he blankets your body, makes you feel small in the nicest way.

Because you know that even though he can never commit his love to you, he’d never let anything — human or devil — lay a finger on you. You love him, you love him, you love him.

Aki follows your wishes, sinks faster inside of you as you exhale heavily. Your nails dig into his back so tightly that you start to worry you’ll break the skin. But Aki loses himself in the feeling of you, panting into your chest as he moves his hips.

“F-fuck,” he mutters, eyes fluttering shut. “I’m not going to last long inside you like this. Maybe I should slow down—”

“No, no, I’m close,” you stumble over your words, meeting Aki’s intense eyes, a thousand emotions relayed in them as he blinks at you. “It’s okay.”

“God,” he mutters, whispers the word between you, even though you’re certain he hasn’t believed in him for a while, and you’re not sure you do either. “I don’t deserve you.”

You wonder if Aki meant to say that at all, so you let it go, let the words exist between you as if they were never there at all.

His palm guides it’s way across your stomach, the touch featherlight, before he reaches for your breast, thumb flicking across your nipple. The nail catches, and you moan, almost there once more. Aki’s cock hitting all the right places, so much better than your own fingers.

“Aki,” you say his name over and over, your mind going numb from thinking about him.

“I know,” Aki mutters against your lips, hot air ghosting across them on his exhale. “You’re okay. Let go for me, baby. Did so good for me, want you to cum on my cock.”

His voice, so deep and rough in your ears, sends you over the edge, and a sound forces its way up your throat as you clench down on him, your cunt spasming from your orgasm. It hits you harder than you’d been anticipating, legs squeezing around Aki’s hips as you dig your toes into the mattress.

“There we go,” Aki wipes your hair away from your face, kissing your temples, so gently that you think you might cry. It’s not fair for him to be so sweet, so loving when you know he’s going to kick you out of his apartment before the night is over. “My pretty girl. Shit,” Aki mumbles, cursing lowly before pulling out of you, quick, and spilling into his palm. It takes him less than a stroke down the length of his cock, the thick cum spurting out, falling onto your hips, beside you on the mattress.

It’s not your mess to clean, though, and you can’t bring yourself to care. Breathing heavily, you watch Aki fumble for something on his nightstand, before he gives up, wiping his wet hand on the already soiled bedsheets. Then, he collapses down onto his side, staring, watching your chest rise and fall.

“Aki,” you say, turning away from his eyes to stare at the ceiling, the cracked plaster, stained from water leaks. “I can’t do this anymore.”

Silence falls across the room, and you can’t bear to look at him, refusing to see the indifference on his face. There’s nothing, he says nothing, before sitting back up, shuffling through the nightstand once more.

The beams of streetlights sway against his silhouette, encased in a beautiful swirl of purple and navy hues. His hair seems an even darker curtain, coiling around his jaw as he hides from you, hides the emotion that was less than evident on his face.

You sigh, and flip back on your side.

Aki takes a few drags of the cigarette, puffing them into the stale air. It reeks, probably, in the tiny bedroom, but all you can smell is the tangy scent of Aki’s soap, the lavender that lingers on his skin, the cleanness of the linens that have been recently washed. This apartment, sometimes, feels more like home than your lonely one does, even though being with Aki is almost like being on your own, sometimes.

“Those things are going to kill you,” you say under your breath, still fascinated by the way the smoke draws deep into his lungs, puffs out in a cloud, relaxes him easily. His veiny palms flex, long, slender fingers holding the cigarette between them.

Aki doesn’t laugh, but it’s close to one, a snort almost, as he breathes again. “Not like I’ll be alive much longer, anyway.”

“You sound like Himeno.”

“Do I?”

You sniff, and scoot up against the wall, sitting beside him. Despite your argument, you take the cigarette from him, smoke it yourself, and place your lips around the exact place where Aki’s had been. He watches with the same rapt fascination, blinking slowly, before staring at the ceiling as you had before.

It’s Himeno he should be with now, really. Another Devil Hunter. A woman he can fuck without getting his feelings all mixed up, someone who probably understands him better than you do. He’s never loved her like he loved you, and she wouldn’t take offense to it either, you think.

But it’s you he calls instead. It’s you who is too weak to leave.

“I’m sorry,” Aki whispers.

“So am I.”

You reach across him, press the cigarette into the ashtray and drop what’s left of it amongst the other ends. Aki’s fingertips dance along your spine as you do so, and you wish he wouldn’t touch you, wish he’d just kick you out of the bed, toss you out of the apartment, spit at you like you weren’t anything but a whore.

Instead, he kisses your shoulder, draws you in close, curls his tall frame around your body, and drags you back down into the bed.

It hurts more than you want to admit, because this is what you want. You’d truly go the rest of your life, never have sex with him again, if he’d always hold you like you meant something to him.

“I need to go home,” you say, remembering that you still haven’t eaten dinner, that you’d left your things in disarray, your clothes unfolded on your bed. There was never a reason to before, because with Aki, you’d always go home, just before the last train. You’d be tucked into your bed that same evening after a nice shower. “Aki…”

“Stay.” He kisses your collarbone and shoulder again, throws his thigh over your own, and traps you against his body. “Please stay. You can wear that T-shirt of mine you like so much. I’ll make you breakfast. You can meet Power and Denji, and then I’ll take you home tomorrow morning.”

You swallow, damning your weak-willed heart for succumbing so easily. Fingers curl around his wrists as you bask in his embrace, how warm he is, despite normally running so cold. “Aki,” you whisper again, tears welling along your eyelashes. “You can’t do this to me. Please don’t do this to me.”

“Do what?” His voice is just as quiet as your own, and he’s still kissing you, holding you like you’re something precious. But he is surely not that stupid about your feelings, to how he has been tearing you apart for the past year, even though you let him.

You sniff, trying not to cry, never wanting to embarrass yourself, even if you have sobbed in his arms on numerous occasions. “You must know that I love you. I’ll never stop loving you. Even if I marry someone after you die, I’m certain your name will still be etched into the chains on my heart. I’m just a stupid, dumb girl.”

He says nothing, and you do cry, then, tears streaming down your face as you twist away, stare out the curtained window, the thin fabric fluttering from the heat that kicks on.

“Please don’t call me anymore. Just let me hurt for awhile, so I can get over you. You’re so selfish, so selfish, why can’t I just move on?” You bury your face in your hands, wipe your tears, try to fight against him as he pulls you into his strong chest, kisses the top of your head. Still, even then, even when you want to hate him, you’re putty in his heads, melting and craving the place in his arms that feels like home.

“I can’t let you go,” Aki says, wiping your tears. “Fuck, I can’t — I need you. Do you understand? I need you, and I know I’m a selfish piece of shit, but I don’t want you to move on.” He frowns, clenching his jaw, twisting his expression up. “I’ll be better.”

“Aki—”

“I’ll love you like you need, honey. I thought,” Aki scrubs his palm over his face, the other still stroking across your back. “I thought it’d make it easier, all this distance between us, to let you go. I can’t put you in danger, but I can’t stop loving you either.”

You inhale sharply, leaning your head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat, committing the harmony to your memory. Who knows how much longer it will be in there, how much longer Aki will allow it to exist before he destroys himself completely.

“Aki, you’ll never love me like I need, because you’ll always put your work first,” you say, squeezing your eyes shut. “I realized that a long time ago.”

He shifts, pushing you away so you could look each other in the eye, the astounding resoluteness in his irises. How serious he was about trying to be someone he was not. “I can try.”

You sob.

And you wish you could just say no; say no and walk away, forget his name, never answer the phone again, never call Himeno to check up and make sure he’s still breathing.

But you can’t — it’ll never be that easy.

Pushing him away, you rest your head back on the pillow, trying to make yourself comfortable as you turn your back to him. Perhaps, the morning will give you clarity. You’ll stay, but you’re not sure for how long.

“I’m tired.”

Aki curls against you, rests his arm around your hip, kisses your neck, cheek, temple. “Okay,” he relents, holding you close, chest pressed against your spine. “I meant what I said about breakfast. Maybe we can talk about it then?”

You want to say no, but you won’t. He’ll kiss you in the morning, and you’ll kiss him back. Settle on your knees and give him a blowjob while he’s still groggy, before slipping on his T-shirt, chattering off his ear as he makes you breakfast. You’ll probably even curl your arms around his stomach from behind, stand on you tiptoes to reach the space between his shoulder blades.

Power and Denji will come home at some point, and probably say something rude, as Aki says they do to everyone. Then you’ll go home, and you’ll still be in love with him, and Aki will forget the conversation even happened, because he’ll say anything to get you to stay.

Or, maybe, he’s being honest. Maybe he will love you like you want him to.

Less than likely.

“Okay, Aki,” you agree, too tired to argue or acknowledge the emptiness in your stomach. “We’ll talk about it in then.”

reblogs appreciated!! thank you for reading!

#csm x reader #aki hayakawa x reader #aki x fem!reader #aki hayakawa x you #love the angst #💙

1K notes · View notes

minbells · 2 months

Text

reflections

tags: armin x reader, reader is an artist, reader uses she/her pronouns, takes place during the tent party in marley, mutual crushing, drunk confession

warnings: inebriation

words: 2.4k

★ Tucked into the corner of a drunken party, drawing a secret of your own, Armin finds you; more importantly, he finds a reflection of him on paper, crafted carefully by your hands, and you do not even try to resist his plea to let him see.

★ Or the one in which Armin has terrible alcohol metabolism, your heart comes this much closer to a stroke, and an intervention is required to resolve the mess that comes to.

He'd been so silent. Akin to a mouse. By the time she noticed him, quiet and solemn, towering over her shoulder, the drawing had been almost finished.

And he was staring at it. At her.

She didn't even have time to yelp in surprise. Her body froze when she saw him, his shadow spreading like ink over her journal, and an odd sort of shock coiled through her muscles as she looked back. Heat sinking into her cheeks, breath stuttering, she felt herself grasp at the leatherbind in her hands, so tightly it almost hurt.

Watching him now, staring back at him, she doesn't say anything. He stands there, one shoulder leaning his weight on the wooden frame of the tent, and she knows he can see her skin grow flushed.

In truth, she shouldn't have startled this much. She knows that. He always does this. He always finds her, no matter where she may hide.

Finally, voice deliberately slow and eyes cast down at her, he tells her: "I feel like I should apologise."

She opens her mouth. She thinks to say – what? To admonish him? She thinks to snap her journal shut, or to leave with an indignation. But there he stands still, watching her with that darling, repentant glint in his eye, and who is she to stay mad at him, or to grow upset with him in the first place? She simply sighs, waving her hand at him, waiting for him to sit beside.

"I'm sorry," he says, smile all sheep and no teeth, and she scoots over for him. "I noticed you were gone, and–"

"–And you went ahead to try and find me–"

"–And then I saw you here, drawing your heart away. I thought to call out, and, well.." His eyes cast down, lingering on the drawing laying helplessly in her lap. "I'm sorry." He looks back in her eyes, face earnest and shoulders tight. "I know how private you are about your drawings, I know I should have asked."

She can't help the sigh that leaves her. Looking at him, feeling him press against her shoulder so tentatively, she really can't be upset with him – even if she tried. "It's fine."

And he knows this. Of course he does. Armin grins at her, bordering on something someone else could call impish. "Am I forgiven?"

"Don't push your luck," she warns, and he laughs, loud and indelicate, and it sounds so delightful that she can't help but laugh with him, filled with an odd murmuration within her heart at how close he is sitting to her.

Then his eyes linger on the drawing again, and she can tell he tries to be subtle about it, or to resist it. She pushes the journal into his lap, his eyelashes fluttering with a soft panic. "You don't have to," he murmurs, his fingers curling delicately around the edge of the leather.

"It's okay," she tells him, just as gently. "You can look. You've already seen the most of it anyway."

And he does. This time, with a careful hold and a soft, with an amused smile curling at the edge of his lips, he looks at it unabashedly, eyes roving through the lines. "If I ask, will you tell me?" He asks, tone playful, outshined by the happy flush on his cheeks, and he chuckles when she sighs.

She thinks about lying. She wonders, for a moment, if it would be the best course of action. But he does not look back at her as she thinks to herself; instead, he looks ahead, at the journal in his hands, over and over, as if it were magical, or something he wanted – needed, desperately – to commit to memory. So instead, timidly, she admits: "You looked so happy. I couldn't let it pass by. I wanted to save it." And even as she says it, so awfully earnest and open, she thinks perhaps she should have kept her mouth shut. She feels breathless, almost vulnerable as she sees him close the journal shut at her words, as she watches him raise his eyes and look at her, eyes wide and simmering with something that she can't quite read. Then she watches, panicked, as his lips part, as he inhales, words ready on the precipice of his tongue, so instead she tells him: "You can look through the rest."

He blinks at her. Her words swim and sink into him, and then he is closer to her, so much closer, loud and exuberant. Clutching tightly at the journal, he asks her: "Really? I can see?"

Her heart skips a beat. Loathe as she may, it does; for a moment, he is so close she can smell the sweet wine on his breath. Watching the spark burst and sizzle in his gaze, she feels her panic die, dragging her hesitation with it. "Of course you can," she finds herself breathing out, watching, with a private, quiet satisfaction, as he pulls her journal open with that sheer, pulsating delight.

And he does. He does look. Fingers ghosting reverently over each page, she watches as his joy changes, morphing into a strange sort of awe that has his eyes transfixed on each stroke of her pencil. His hands follow the lines, some more delicate than others, but he never touches them, not once. She can see it in the way he holds the corners of each page; he is wary of them, of tarnishing them, as if his touch could somehow ruin them, despite the charcoal and graphite having been smudged by the years of wear already.

"You drew all of them," he breathes then, taking her back to the reality before her. "All of them. Ymir, Reiner, Berthold. Annie. Even Erwin." He flips another page, his chest rising heavily as he inhales, a quiet reverie passing between them as he flips and flips the pages, the reflections of their peers and their seniors, the dead and the living, staring back at him – at the both of them. "None of them knew, did they?"

"Annie caught me once," she admits, pulling her knees to her chest. "Made me show her. I think she liked it."

He chuckles. He doesn't look back at her, flipping through the pages slowly and attentively. She continues to watch him, too: feeling brazen, bold, as if she were taking something in return, a sort of penance for allowing him to have this. It stretches and stretches, this quiet exchange, until he pauses, swiftly and suddenly. It is an odd pause, a stretching one, and she knows what he sees. He doesn't say it, he hasn't once this whole time – but she knows.

"I remember this," he says eventually, lingering on the page. "Six years ago. In Trost."

She hums in response. As the man sits by her side, enveloped in the years of graphite she has put down into these pages, his reflection as a boy from six years back looks back at him, smiling wide and bright. This one, it used to be a favourite of hers. In a way, it still is.

She tries not to blush, or to begin explaining herself. She wonders if he will say it –– if he will ask her, finally, if he will wonder out loud why her journal is filled not just with their friends, but with him; him, and him, over and over again, hiding in every nook and cranny of the paper she had once felt too treasured to tarnish with her drawings. He had not said it yet, but there he is now, paused mid–journal and staring without a word.

She waits for it; she thinks she is ready for it. But he doesn't say a word. He turns to her, smiling kindly, softly, and instead of curiosity she sees a sadness in his eyes, deep–rooted and strange and almost sorrowful, and it is all that takes for her heart to flip upside down.

"What's wrong?" She asks, hand steady on his elbow, and he only blinks at her in return.

His gaze falls. He looks down, face growing even more somber, and looking at him like this, she almost grows desperate. She waits, hand unwavering on his arm, and eventually he tells her: "I look so much happier. In your drawings. I guess it's just.. Odd. An odd feeling, that is. A lot has changed."

She wishes she could erase it. Take the pain from his voice, spread white paint over it until it is gone, until it is sparkling clean and bright.

She knows she can't. She can't do that – neither would he allow it. So instead, she scoots closer, leaning her side into his. They sit in silence, and she feels a warmth undulate from him; one she tries to not think of, to ignore, until she feels his head lean on hers, heavy and weighted.

Her hand travels to the page he's on. It ghosts over her drawing, watching the boy memorialised in it with the man beside her.

"I think that can be said about the lot of us," she says quietly, and he sighs, his breath stuttering in his lungs. "All of us have gone through changes. I see it. Perhaps they don't, but they're all here. All versions of them." She traces her finger over his hair, a deep gray within the page. "Including you." For a moment, they are silent. Her hand on the page, his own at the edge of it, untouching. "Why'd you cut your hair?" She asks quietly, wondering out loud, suffocating from the feeling of him so close, so warm – his hand just out of her reach, tracing the edge of her journal.

For a time, he doesn't reply. He leans on her, and he is so heavy, so quiet, that she thinks he may have fallen asleep, driven to exhaustion by the excitement and the drinks.

Then he tells her, so softly, so weakly: "Don't laugh."

"Of course not."

He does not pull away when he tells her why. He stays leaning on her, hiding his face from her, his breath hitching quietly once in a while, as if he were short of breath. "I thought I could be more like him. Erwin. If I'd cut my hair, if I wore my uniform like he did, if I talked more like him. I think, I.. I think a part of me feels indebted in a way I can't really repay. So I've got to, you know.. Fill his shoes. Make up for it. Something."

"Armin," she begins softly, leaning away, looking to turn towards him, reach to him, and then she freezes, muscles tight as she sees the tears streaming down his cheek, the skin red and blotchy.

"I.. I don't know. It's stupid. Fuck." Did she hear that right? "I know. I know, that's not how it works." He brings his hands to his eyes, pressing deep, urging his eyes to stop.

She flusters. Pulling herself straight, she crawls to him, her hand closing around his wrist. "Armin–"

"It's so stupid," he interrupts her, and she sees it now – the dragging of his breath, the red sheen on his skin; he looks at her, eyes wide and glistening, tears never–ending.

"Armin, that's not.. How much have you had to drink? Armin," she calls, wiping at his tears, and he sniffles, and then he hiccups, honest to Rose. "Oh, Armin," she says, cooing desperately, pained at the sight of the boy in front of her.

Armin is drunk. Armin is drunk, and now he is clutching at her hand, and he is weeping into it, words incoherent and slurred through the tears and the alcohol that must be hitting him belatedly, over and over and over again.

And she thinks it will be that, she thinks it will fizzle out; his cries will soon ebb, and he'll tire himself out, and until then she will stay here, wiping his tears, letting him hold onto her hand as tightly as he needs – even if it's bruising.

But he has other plans. Of course, this is Armin; when are his plans orthodox?

He pulls at her, both hands in his grasp, and he is looking up at her now, eyes wide and pleading. "I didn't even thank you. I'm sorry. Your drawings are so pretty." She can't think. He is so close to her once more, and her heart is going rabid, wild at the sight of him like this. She can't even wipe his tears, not with both hands in his hold. "And you're so pretty," he cries more, small, pitiful wails shaking his entire frame.

"What?" She squeaks out, embarrassed and out of her wits, and it takes all of her self–restraint to not scream bloody murder when a crack echoes through the tent, the cloth dividing them from the rest pulled open.

"What the bloody walls is going on here?" Eren asks, laughter bubbling out of him.

In mere seconds Mikasa is towering over the both of them, eyes cast in a glare that makes her whole skin crawl with a panic, and before she can even open her mouth to say a single word, she feels Armin tug at her tighter, crying out the woman's name.

"Mikasa," he sobs, cheeks glistening and tongue stumbling over itself. "Mikasa, she's so nice to me. Did you know? She's.." she watches as Mikasa sighs, kneeling to try and peel Armin’s desperate hands from her. The man sniffles in return, refusing to let go. "She's so pretty!" He cries out.

Mikasa curses, putting effort into prying his hands off, and Eren laughs and laughs, scarlet in the cheeks. "You had to get piss drunk to finally tell her that?" He bursts out, bending down in hysterics.

"Armin, I swear.. I didn't raise you to be like this," Mikasa says, hauling the crying boy over her shoulder with an impressive force. Then the woman turns to her, cheeks red not in amusement but in embarrassment. "I'm so sorry," she says, looking over her with care.

"No! It's fine," she replies, standing quickly. "I mean– Mikasa, I think you really need to put him down. Like, right now. Immediately. Mika–"

"Ohhh," comes a thin wail. "I'm going to be.. I'm gonna be sick."

"Mikasa–"

"Oh, walls."

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minbells · 2 months

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flower crowns

You twist the stems together, mixing greens and whites with pinks and blues. You figured you had some time before he would wake up. His head laid on your thighs and his arms were wrapped around your middle, burying his nose in your tummy. You had spent the first few minutes playing with his hair, lulling him to sleep while you were reading your book and sipping a glass of sparkling cider. Then, his little snores and even breaths had caught your attention and you had smiled down at his peaceful, sleeping form.

Cute.

The leftovers of tasty foods and a pack of Uno cards were laying out on the thick blanket, long forgotten, and you just finished reading the last word in your book. He was still sleeping, and you refused to bother him while he rested. You mindlessly fiddled with a daisy that had been tickling your calf for the past hour. That’s when you let your creativity overtake you. Gathering the nearest flowers while staying as still as possible, you tried to match the prettiest colours and scents together. You knew he liked daisies, which was why he had chosen this place for your little picnic date. Right here is perfect, with all the daisies, he had said, dropping the little basket of food in the field of white flowers and smoothing the blanket carefully on the ground. You selected a few blue and pink flowers to add to the little daisies and started to craft a flower crown to the best of your abilities. The activity was pleasant and you felt all worries leaving your mind, lost in your task.

Suddenly feeling something soft tickling his cheek and pulling him out of his pleasant dream, his eyes fluttered opened. It took a few blinks before his vision cleared and he noticed you, beautiful, playing with flowers and twisting them together to make a pretty creation, the leaves brushing his skin. He felt a burst of affection ripping through his chest as he stared up at you, so focused on your task that it took you a few seconds before noticing him peering up at you.

"Oh, I didn’t notice you were awake. Sorry love," you smiled sheepishly, your fingers momentarily leaving the stems and going through his hair — him leaning instinctively towards your gentle touch and feeling your nails scratch his scalp in all the right places.

"What are you making?" he asked curiously after a few seconds of enjoying your soft caresses. You beamed.

"A flower crown! Here," you carefully placed it on his head, and it slightly tilted due to the awkward angle of his head on your lap. Nevertheless, he looked breathtaking with the little flowers in his hair, making his features even more handsome and his little smile all the more endearing. The crown in itself was a bit droopy, and some flowers had already fallen on his face, which made him scrunch his nose. You giggled and brushed the petals from his face. He smiled.

"I love it," he sighed, almost dreamily, blissful. "Thank you, love."

Looking down at his sleepy features and cute flowers, you couldn’t help but smile proudly. "I’m glad you like it. You know, I put all my love and talent into that crown," you said playfully, fixing up his hair and misplaced leaves.

His smile got larger, eyes gentler, features softer. He wasn’t sure if he would ever tell you this, but he always felt like the most peaceful and cared for when he was with you. The way you cradled his face, kissed his lips, played with his hair and crafted little things for him — there was no doubt in his mind, he would let you put a thousand flower crowns on his head if it made you happy.

armin arlert, jean kirstein, kamado tanjiro, rengoku kyojuro, kirishima eijiro, todoroki shoto, shinso hitoshi, shoji mezo, nanami kento, fushiguro megumi, okkotsu yuta, akaashi keiji.

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minbells · 3 months

Photo

Armin chasing Sasha 😊

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minbells · 3 months

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He never really thought about kissing anyone before meeting you. But then here you are, and suddenly he craves your affection more than anything else in the world. Whenever he sees your beautiful smile or your pouty lips, he wants more. More than just the lingering eye contacts, the shy graze of his hand against yours when you’re walking side by side, the gentle touch of your fingers when they go through his hair or adjust his collar that he purposefully neglected, seeking for your attention. He craves your lips against his, and this feeling leaves him confused as to what he’s supposed to do to fulfill his desires. He noticed quickly in your fresh situationship that romance is important. Unfortunately, he doesn’t know how to approach the subject. Why won’t you kiss him? Why won’t he kiss you? He’s not scared or embarrassed, is he? He shouldn’t be, for the comfort he felt whenever you were with him soothed his deepest anxieties.

Then, he doesn’t have to ponder any longer, because all of a sudden your lips are on his. He doesn’t know if you had been too tired to wait or if the moment, right under the stars, was all too perfect, but the softness of your lips had met his own. Fuck, why hadn’t he done that sooner? He cupped your cheeks in his palms and melted into the kiss. His instincts took over, lips dancing against your peach flavoured ones, the taste of your chapstick on his tongue, and he suddenly wondered how you could taste so heavenly. It wasn’t long before you gently, almost shyly, bit his lower lip and met his tongue teasingly, almost like a preview of the many more kisses you will exchange in the future, before you suddenly broke the kiss. He found himself chasing your lips.

Again, please. But you only smiled teasingly, lovingly, barely brushing your lips over his before whispering words of affections that made him melt in a puddle of pure softness.

todoroki shoto, shinso hitoshi, aizawa shota, midoriya izuku, fushiguro megumi, kamo choso, kozume kenma, wakatoshi ushijima, kageyama tobio, armin arlert, eren yeager, tomioka giyuu, kamado tanjiro, hayakawa aki.

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minbells · 3 months

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born to die - itadori yuji

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ 10k follower event special! ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

word count: 8.7k warnings: canon-typical angst and talks of death summary: itadori's fate has been sealed, and he can't bear dragging anyone down with him. especially not her. more info: friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, angsty confession rain scene, you're gonna eat it up

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[ feet don’t fail me now, take me to the finish line // oh my heart it breaks every step that i take, but i’m hoping that the gates they’ll tell me that you’re mine ]

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Itadori Yuji hasn’t always lived his life on borrowed time. It used to be normal- as some called it. He used to be just a boy, with an intrigue in the occult and semi-above average grades. Back when things were normal he’d never thought much about girls or dating, not seriously anyways. In the back of his mind he always figured the right person would come along at the right time, and he’d settle down when things worked out that way.

He didn’t know that the right time would cease to exist the moment he swallowed that finger.

At the sound of lightning cracking, Yuji flinches slightly, not having realized just how bad this storm had gotten since he’d stepped out of the dormitories to appreciate the rain. He must’ve been out here for longer than he thought, but he hadn’t exactly been trying to keep track of time. One thing led to another and he’d gotten lost in his thoughts, and…

“Megumi, what the hell is happening?”

Her shock was evident not only in the way she’d called out to her classmate and friend, but also in the speed at which she’d brought herself from one end of the corridor to the other. It was almost as if she’d teleported there.

At the time, Yuji thought maybe that was her special power. If the grumpy dude had shadow animals, it wasn’t too outlandish to believe she could warp from one spot to another, right?

He’ll never forget the way she’d looked at him then. For the first time.

Confusion and panic washed away for the briefest of moments, instead gazing upon him with wide eyes and a dropped jaw. Yuji had confused it at first for recognition, thinking maybe they’d met before and he’d forgotten, but that wasn’t the case.

“Who is that?”

“This is Itadori,” Fushiguro huffed, more annoyed by the introduction than anything. “He’s the one with the finger”

It wasn’t exactly the introduction Yuji would have wanted, but there was no changing that now. Besides, as long as he was able to say that he met her, that he knew her, he’d consider that more than a blessing.

(He always sort of had that soft way of speaking about her whenever she came up, whenever he brought her up. His eyes would glaze over with that dreamy look and before he knew it his heart was getting fluttery and his face was getting warm)

A lot of that fateful night was a blur, especially the parts where his body no longer belonged to him, but when it came to her, it was like the images were crystal clear. If there was a way for him to enter a memory and relive it- that’s how he’d describe the sensation.

“Is he still passed out?” A voice- Yuji couldn’t be sure if it was Fushiguro or his supposed mentor who’d shown up- asked, but it was fuzzy and distant.

“Seems so,” A gentler one replied. This one was undoubtedly hers. “Probably for the best that he rests” She added before he felt the faint touch of fingertips pushing the hair off his forehead.

“What do we do with him now?” It was obvious it was Fushiguro asking, and it was obvious that he was asking his mentor, but it wasn’t the older man who replied.

“We take him back with us,” She piped up, her voice holding a firmness that suggested she’d argue harder if she had to. “Right?”

The pause before an answer came was long, Yuji wasn’t sure if he had faded in and out of consciousness, or if the silence really did drag on for minutes.

He’d never told her that he’d heard that small bit of conversation, that he remembered the way her careful fingers had touched him with more compassion than he’d felt in a long time. Yuji couldn’t decide if it was because he was a coward or if he simply wanted to keep hold of that precious memory all to himself.

Another roll of thunder rumbled through the sky. Yuji lifted his head to try and make out the dark clouds among the night sky. Without a flash of lightning it was difficult to make out, but he did always enjoy watching a good storm, even if the darkness made it difficult.

He’d surely been out here for a couple of hours at this point. It was nearing midnight when he’d crept out of the dormitories to watch the rain, hoping for a peaceful moment. It was peaceful, the storm, at least. His mind had gotten foggy after spending too much time within it and he was starting to go down that path he hated.

What if I’d done things differently? Do I really deserve to still be here? How long until we find the last finger and the higher ups have me executed?

It wasn’t your average person’s derailed anxiety. In fact, all of the anxieties Yuji had ever faced before being introduced to jujutsu had faded away. He’d have to think for a few minutes to recall the things that used to be on the forefront of his mind on sleepless nights.

He was certain none of them involved being executed, though.

It was only a matter of time, and he’d known that for a while. He was quite sure he’d come to peace with it, too. Or at least he almost had. He was just wrapping his head around the idea of dying, but as long as he’d helped people before that time came, he could accept it. He could die at peace knowing he’d done everything he could to fulfill his grandfather’s dying wish.

And then she came along and everything turned upside down- again, and not for the last time.

The relief between the group of four upon finding everyone alive and as well as they could be- not unscathed, but nothing that couldn’t be bandaged up- was quickly replaced by utter shock as they watched Sukuna’s mouth appear on the palm of Yuji’s hand. There was no time to react before it was gobbling up the finger Megumi had obtained after a hard fought battle.

It’s suddenly so silent you could hear a pin drop from anywhere in these woods, everyone’s eyes focused on the skin that reappeared over the boy’s palm, each hoping their eyes had played tricks on them as the reality of the situation settles in.

Yuji wants to say something, in fact, he almost cracks a joke. But the words are stuck in his throat and all he can do is flex his fingers into a fist a few times as he processes what just happened.

Another finger consumed is another finger closer to death.

“We won’t tell anyone about this,” She speaks first, gaze lingering on his hand for a moment longer before lifting to Yuji’s concerned expression. She hesitates again, then turns to Megumi and Nobara. “No one. We keep this to ourselves”

“Not even-?”

“Not even Gojo-sensei” She cuts Megumi off before he could finish the question.

Nobara gave a solid nod in agreement right away. She always trusted her say in anything, and would blindly follow her anywhere. Megumi took a minute longer to catch up, but eventually agreed as well. The idea of keeping such a massive secret hidden from Gojo unsettled him, but when he weighed out the other options, he didn’t like the idea of Yuji being any closer to death than he was before.

“Let’s get moving” Was all he said, but it was enough for his peers to know he was on board. Nobara followed after him as he took off towards the direction they’d come hours ago. Yuji hung back a few steps, not sure how to feel about everyone covering for him.

“(y/n),”

He called her name softly, as he always did, but it was loud enough for her to perk up. She sends him a small smile as she slows her own steps to walk beside him at his slower pace.

“I don’t want anyone getting in trouble for covering for-”

“No one’s getting in trouble,” She assured him mid-sentence. “And no one’s doing anything they don’t want to do. It’s fine”

She was always so sure of herself that it was endearing. She was a natural leader, even when Megumi tried to form a plan, she had a way of rallying the small group up before any assignment. Just last week Gojo made them stay behind after lessons to clean the classroom, and she’d found a way to make it into a competition that had them finished in under thirty minutes. Yuji admired that about her. Her spirit could be over exaggerated, but it was never phony.

Yuji was at a loss for words, leaving him stuck gaping at her like a fish, which was at least effective in making her laugh.

“You care so much for others- I really admire that about you, Yuji,” She spoke as if she could read his mind. It had his chest buzzing in that familiar way she sparked. She looked at him and it was like her eyes were made of the stars themselves. “But you underestimate how much… others care for you too”

He’ll never forget the way her cheeks had gone pink after the soft admission.

If the circumstances had been different, he’s sure he would have confessed to her right then and there. If things were different he wouldn’t have been able to hold it back. If it weren’t for his reality, he would have loved nothing more than to take her in his arms and tell her- well, everything, really.

It wasn’t like he was doing that great of a job keeping his heart in check. His friends had noticed the way his demeanor changed as soon as she walked into the room. Megumi may have wanted to ignore the subject just because that was his nature, but Nobara was happy to blurt it out one night when it was just the three of them.

“So when are you gonna address the whole (y/n) thing?” She’d barely looked up from where she was sitting on Megumi’s floor painting her nails. Yuji had to do a double take just to make sure she was talking to him.

“... (y/n) thing?”

He’d acted like he didn’t have a clue what she was referencing, but truthfully, his heart was already racing. He hadn’t been that obvious about it, had he?

“C’mon Nobara, he doesn’t want to talk about that yet, leave him be” Megumi had come to his defense, but only sort of, because now Yuji realized that they both knew about his hidden feelings.

Did he not hide them that well?

“It’s been months!” Nobara barks back, ever so focused on the perfect coat of cherry red. “He’s gotta be bursting to tell someone! Might as well be us”

“This is why people don’t come to you with stuff” Megumi huffs.

“You got something you want to say then?” Nobara argues.

“No, I’m just saying-”

“Then could you shush so Yuji could actually open up about his undying love?”

“Uh… heh…?” Yuji mumbled his confusion to himself, but it was enough to interrupt their bickering. He glanced between the two with a lost look on his face, waiting for someone to better explain it to him.

“Yuji, if you need some advice on how to ask out (y/n), we’re here for you” Nobara says with complete seriousness. He knows because she paused in her nail painting to stare him down while she said it.

He swallowed the lump in his throat- which he hadn’t been aware of until that very moment- and wildly looked between both of his friends.

Megumi, although slightly disinterested, seemed just as invested as Nobara in this offer. Maybe he was just bored of reading, because he didn’t often follow along with Nobara’s antics unless there was something in it for him, but it was clear in his raised brows that he was waiting for Yuji to say something.

And that’s when the pinkette remembers-

“No way man!” He shouts defensively, standing suddenly from his spot on the floor. “You’re like her best friend! You’re just gonna tell her everything I say!”

Unceremoniously, Megumi points to himself like the statement confused him.

Nobara huffs and rolls her eyes.

“Yeah, you!”

Yuji had his moments of airheadedness, but he wasn’t a complete idiot. (y/n) and Megumi had known each other for a long time. They’d trained together as sorcerers in their younger years and it wasn’t until recently that they even had other classmates. Megumi wouldn’t openly call any of his classmates his friends- at least not until Yuji begged him to admit it- but it had been clear that the bond he’d formed with (y/n) before Yuji and Nobara’s arrival had been built on an unshakable foundation of trust and respect.

To Yuji, that made the pair best friends. And best friends shared everything with each other. Including secrets shared in confidence from other friends.

“So you admit there’s something to be told?” Nobara asks, raising a brow in curiosity.

“I didn’t say that!”

“You sort of implied it” Megumi said.

“Well then I un-imply it!”

“Not how that works” Nobara pipes back in.

Yuji groans, covering his burning face with his hands in the hopes that it helps to hide the giveaway that was his blushing face. It was too late, of course his friends were perceptive enough to have already caught it.

“I didn’t- I wasn’t saying that I-” His stammering only seems to prove the claims made against him, but still, Yuji tries to find the words to explain himself. Probably because there was no way to explain himself. His feelings were made clear in his actions already.

“So you won’t mind if I set her up with the guy at the pastry shop we go to then?” Nobara asks, and before she’s completely finished talking, Yuji drops his hands, and his eyes are wide with panic.

“Guy? Pastries? Why? Does- does she talk to him a lot?”

Nobara glances at Megumi, who’s finally cracked a smile as he scoffs and shakes his head. He’s trying not to break out into laughter, but sometimes those two just made it too hard.

He wasn’t the kind of guy that shared other people’s secrets. If Yuji needed (y/n) to know something, he’d tell her. Tonight was the first night that he’d ever contemplated crossing that boundary. Just so he could see the way she’d light up at the insinuation that the boy she loved could love her back.

It didn’t seem like the storm would let up anytime soon. The rain was hitting the ground harder than ever. If he were to step out from under the awning, he’d be soaked to the bone in just seconds. Standing in the rain actually sounded sort of nice. It might have been a relief, even for just a minute. Or maybe a decent enough distraction from where his mind had wandered off to.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like to think about her. Hell, so much of his time had been thinking about her that he was starting to go absolutely crazy. Even if he knew how to stop, he probably wouldn’t have. He definitely wouldn’t have.

The pipeline from having a crush to being full on crazy about someone was faster than he would have expected. Yuji didn’t have an exact timeline, but he knew that it wasn’t long after meeting her that he was lost in his adoration for her. Soft, warm, all consuming adoration.

“These are really good!” Her eyes were lit up and her mouth was full of food as she praised Yuji for the meal. She was already reaching for another meatball before she’d swallowed the first one. “Your grandpa gave you this recipe?”

Megumi and Nobara, who were also knelt around the table, had given Yuji their compliments as well. But the brightness on his face now outshined his reaction to their five star reviews. With the wide grin splitting his face and wider eyes following her greedy movements to snatch another meatball. Nothing zapped his heart with pure electricity like the way she did just by enjoying his food.

He’s nodding his head in a small, slow motion to her question.

“That’s amazing, I wish I knew how to make anything. Especially something this good,” Her approval was laying itself on thick, but he knew that it was completely genuine. “I’m honestly jealous, Yuji”

He laughs, his face pink from the bashfulness.

“I’m glad you like them,” He says, keeping his gaze focused on the one meatball on his plate that he hadn’t even touched yet.

He couldn’t bear to look over at Nobara, who was snickering through her full mouth. Or Megumi, who was staring so blatantly between him and (y/n) that Yuji thought he might burn up completely if he met his eyes.

So he keeps his head down, for the love of all things good and sane, he kept his head down.

“Well… I’ll make if for you anytime you want”

It takes a lot of courage for him to peek over at her from his peripheral, but it’s completely worth the trembling in his fingers. She’s beaming at him, cheeks full, eyes bright, completely overcome by his generosity and sweetness.

Nobara had to lift her napkin to her face to keep herself from spitting out her food. Megumi finally shifts his gaze to his food, hoping he’ll at least be able to keep it down with all the lovesick nonsense at the table.

Yuji would have to use both hands to count the amount of times he made those meatballs for her. Both out of request, and by his own choice. She definitely was treated to them the most, despite Nobara and Megumi also enjoying the recipe.

But Nobara and Megumi didn’t get them at two in the morning when they couldn’t sleep and wanted a snack. Nobara and Megumi didn’t get them when they were sick in bed with the flu for a week.

And the two would tease him for it relentlessly. Not only because the treatment was unfair- they wanted delicious meatballs too! But of course when they caught Yuji up at odd hours to make her favorite meal, they just couldn’t resist calling him out on it.

Yuji would fluster, but it would never matter once he finished his masterpiece and presented them to (y/n). It was like the entire world would melt away when he was greeted with her pure delight for his food. He wished he could learn to make something else to give her, but it had taken so long for him to learn this recipe from his grandpa, he worried he’d only mess up a new dish.

His throat starts to feel hot. Was that tears? It constricts until he can’t breathe without it burning, and even when he tries to swallow to relieve the throbbing sensation, it remains. Was he going to cry over meatballs?

(It wasn’t the meatballs)

“I have a surprise for you students!” Gojo’s cheery voice wasn’t out of the ordinary, and neither was the little dance of excitement he did as he wheeled up a large box to present to the first and second years.

While no one held any interest, they all remained there, waiting for their eccentric mentor to get the display over with. No one knew what to expect, but they figured it couldn’t have been important.

But then he steps aside and does a grand introduction, and even though he states Yuji’s name, it’s not until the boy is popping out like a jack-in-the-box that it really settles in for anyone that Itadori Yuji was there. Alive.

No one moves. No one even says anything. Yuji’s grinning and holding his hands up in peace signs as he’s returned to his friends, but even his cheerfulness couldn’t penetrate the unsettled trance the first and second years seemed to be in.

“Uh- Gojo- sensei…?” Yuji glanced towards his teacher for some help, not having expected anything other than a warm welcome. However, Gojo was also wincing as he took in his students’ faces.

The second years looked aghast. With Maki’s entire face in a disgusted cringe, as if Yuji was brought back as a zombie. All three of them seemed more shocked than relieved.

The first years also didn’t appear like they were struck with relief either. Megumi and Nobara had gone so pale they looked like they could faint at any moment. With Megumi’s eye twitching and Nobara’s nose wrinkling, they were certainly processing it slowly.

Then there was (y/n).

To this day Yuji couldn’t describe the way she looked at him. He was certain she didn’t blink once. Tucked behind Megumi as if his tall stature could protect her from the boy raised from the dead, she looks more small and fragile than he’s ever seen her before. Her jaw wasn’t dropped like Maki’s, but her lips were parted, trying to form any word that comes to mind. Nothing comes out. Her eyebrows can’t stop pinching and relaxing. Worst of all, the tears that were silently streaming down her face.

Maki was the first to bark out an insult at Gojo for his insensitive display. Panda welcomes Itadori back as he and Inumaki follow after Maki to come up with a plan of attack before the Exchange Event begins.

Yuji awkwardly climbed out of the box he was still standing in, approaching his friends with a frown.

“I thought you guys would be more excited”

“You- you were dead, Itadori” Megumi’s the first to stutter over his quiet statement.

Nobara’s chewing on her lip, but some of the color was returning to her face the longer he stood before her, and she was sure that he was going to disappear like a ghost again.

(y/n’s) left to stare with wide teary eyes, still half behind Megumi, still rendered speechless. Yuji wonders if she even knows she’s crying.

“I’m… I’m glad you’re back. We’re glad you’re back,”

Megumi would love it if one of the girls would speak up. But Nobara still looks like she might be sick, and he hasn’t found the courage to check on how (y/n’s) been taking the last few minutes. He’s pretty sure she’s crying behind him and he didn’t know how to take that on.

“Just in time too, yeah?” He finishes with an awkward cough. Yuji can barely manage a nod before Megumi leaves.

Nobara mutters something of a similar sentiment before she leaves as well. It’s through a cough and a gag, but she tries, and Yuji appreciates it nonetheless.

With everyone else gone, and without Megumi to hide behind, (y/n) seems more exposed now. Never before in Yuji’s presence had she wanted to shrink down into the earth, and she hates feeling that way now.

“Gojo thought that would be fun…” He starts to explain himself, his hand going over the back of his neck. “I’m realizing now that it was probably… really stupid, huh- oof!”

He didn’t get the chance to properly apologize before she crashed into him. It’s so fast, almost a blur, that he nearly loses balance. But her arms are wrapped around his middle so tight he thinks even if he had tripped up, she would’ve righted him with her strong hold with no issue.

“So stupid,” She repeats before pulling away, and finally wiping away the tears on her face with the back of her hands. “You were dead Yuji, you can’t just- just pop out of a box and expect us to think that’s normal!”

“I’m sorry,” He blurts out the apology before he can lose any more time. “I’m really, really sorry, alright? I wish I could have told you guys sooner but Gojo-sensei… well, we thought it was right while I was training. He was just trying to protect me”

She nods in understanding, but it’s shaky, and it was clear that she was struggling to actually understand the whole picture. Yuji couldn’t be upset with her for processing it all slowly. Hell, he wasn’t all too caught up himself. He might’ve gotten ahead of himself a bit with the whole surprise reappearance.

“Look, I get it, I… do,” (y/n) sighs, blinking quickly to rid the last of the tears from her eyes. It doesn’t quite work. “Just don’t ever be that stupid again, alright?”

He chuckles a bit, and for a moment it makes a smile crack on her lips too. It’s wobbly, but it’s enough to warm his heart.

“I know that’s hard for you,” She teases weakly, before sniffling. “But you’re gonna have to try, alright?”

“Alright,” He’s still smiling, but it comes out so genuine it’s heavy. “Promise, I won’t do anything that stupid again”

Her wobbly smile stretches a little more, before a small laugh escapes her.

“Don’t go making promises you can’t keep”

“I don’t”

To his luck, he hadn’t done anything too stupid since his little ‘I’m still alive!’ bit. Well, he was pretty sure, considering she had yet to give him that look she had that day. Thank the gods too, because Yuji’s pretty sure if he ever had to see her cry like that again, he’d die on the spot.

Unfortunately, this means that Yuji learned that day that he couldn’t live with himself if he was the cause of her suffering. Seeing her cry was hard enough, but knowing he was the sole reason for it? Even thinking about it now, his throat burned hotter. His eyes did, too, but he was trying to ignore the blur that kept invading his vision for now.

What the hell was with his emotions tonight? He’d come out here to find some peace while storm watching, and instead he’s standing here reminding himself of everything he’d done wrong in his life.

Falling for someone despite knowing he wasn’t meant to walk this earth for much longer had to have been some twisted punishment for something wicked he’d done in a past life.

Or was it punishment for carrying the most wicked thing within him now?

Swallowing that first finger months ago on a whim to save a stranger’s life, was that the day that sealed his fate?

Was he doomed from the start or doomed somewhere along the way?

Would he be able to live with himself, not for the evil residing inside of him, but knowing that one day he’d have to leave the people he’s grown to love more than anything in the world, and he’d leave them knowing that they wouldn’t see him go without fighting, kicking, screaming-

Wait, did he just see something move?

Shaking his head of his self pitying thoughts, he blinked away the fog in his eyes and tried to focus on where he could’ve sworn he’d seen movement. Sure enough seconds later his eyes were bulging out of his head and he was abandoning his safe and dry spot under the awning in order to take off towards the figure.

She’s half jogging, at such an awkward speed Yuji could only wonder if she wasn’t even rushing to get to a dry spot. Maybe she’d indulged herself in the rain the same way he’d thought about doing earlier. Either way he’s sprinting towards her and closing the distance in rapid time.

He’s surprised upon his approach when he hears her laughter. Sweet and bubbly, as if being caught in the rain was the funniest thing in the world. Even though it had to be intentional, didn’t it? At this hour? She had to have chosen to come outside- much less walk around the campus?

“What are you doing out here?” He hollers over the loud rain once he reaches her.

(y/n) grins at him, and he swears even with the moon in hiding behind the storm clouds, it reflects it’s light onto her somehow anyways. She’s already soaked through, the walk from the girls’ dorms to the boys’ isn’t a short one by design. Even if she was doing a half-jog the whole way over. Her body trembles like a leaf in the wind and Yuji tries to usher her back to where he was, but she seems to have no urgency about her at all.

“Aren’t you freezing? C’mon, you should get out of the-”

“It’s alright!” She waves her hand around to dismiss Yuji’s worries. “I wouldn’t have come out here if I was afraid of getting a little wet”

(Yuji thinks this is why Megumi used to make fun of her for being a manic pixie dream girl. He had yet to fully understand the term himself, but this painted a pretty clear picture. He’ll have to ask Megumi about it later)

“A little wet?” He chuckles, hoping that if he picks up his pace she will too, but she doesn’t. “You’re soaked through”

She just shrugs, and follows alongside him towards the boys’ dorms, where he had been sitting dry just moments ago. That’s long gone now, his tee shirt and sweatpants felt heavy and cold as they clung to his skin. His hair hangs almost in his eyes, raindrops dripping onto his eyelashes and making him rub his eyes from the irritation every few minutes.

It wasn’t very pleasant at all. He’s glad he didn’t step out into the rain earlier. Without her company, it wouldn’t have been worth it.

“What’re you doing out here anyways?” He’s still yelling through the rain, but they’re almost to the peace and quiet of the awning now. “It’s pretty late”

“You’re up too,” She shoots back like it’s a scold, even though there’s still a grin on her face.

He’s dying to know what has her so delighted even in these awful conditions. He’s certain it’s nearing two in the morning- if not later- the storm was so awful they had to yell to hear one another, and now they were both soaked to the bone and shaking like dogs to try and preserve heat. Honestly, everything about this present moment should suck. But it simply doesn’t.

“Which I should’ve expected. Once the storm really started I wanted to come see if you were watching it too. I know you like that sort of thing”

His heart does a stupid flutter at the simple fact about him she’d remembered. It might have also had something to do with her coming all the way here. In the rain. In her pajamas. Her cute hello kitty themed pajamas.

They finally reach the awning and (y/n) gets to work ringing out the hem of her tee shirt. It’s useless, even with the shocking amount of rainwater splashing on the ground, but Yuji doesn’t comment on it.

“You could’ve just texted you know” He mumbles, hoping the dark would hide the heat that rushes to his face. Although, it’s somewhat welcomed, as he’s still shivering a bit from being in the rain.

(y/n) looks up at him, stopping her movements to wrap her arms around herself instead. She was still cold too, but she didn’t say anything about it, didn’t try to rush back to her dorm or anything of the sort.

“Well maybe I wanted to come and see you, too,” She suggests, her smile softening as she gazes up at him.

He laughs, bashfully hanging his head to bite back the smile that threatens to take over his whole face. (y/n) laughs with him, solely for the fact that she’d gotten him to crack just a little bit.

It had been awhile since he’d acted himself around her. Maybe only a few days, but there was a notable change. He wanted to hang out less, was rushing out of class, and training on his own more often. For someone as extroverted as Yuji, it was easy to notice. It had been nagging at her for longer than she would’ve liked, but she didn’t work up the courage to address it until tonight.

“Yuji,”

His name comes out in a soft whisper. Had she spoken so low while they were still caught in the rain, he surely wouldn’t have heard it. It hits him now with the force of a truck. He can’t help but give her every ounce of his attention.

“I’ve been meaning to ask… are you alright?”

The concern laced in her gentle voice has him worrying, too. There was some sort of hypnosis involved whenever she spoke to him, as if she had the power to compel him to answer anything she asked. It was a terrifying ability, however Yuji was convinced she didn’t know she possessed it, so theoretically he was safe. For now.

When he doesn’t answer right away, (y/n) feels an overwhelming need to explain herself.

“You’ve just been a little distant and… and I want to make sure you’re doing okay. It’s okay if you’re not, just…” She trails off for a moment, her eyes flickering between his as she tries to decode whatever heavy emotion is sitting behind them. “Just know I’m here for you if you need to talk, or anything, alright?”

“I know,” He nods back at her right away. Of course he knew. She was the most compassionate person he’d ever known. Just being in her presence relaxed him to a dangerous state of relief. That said, his heart was beating at odd intervals as she displayed this much concern over his well being. “I’m okay, you don’t need to worry”

He tries to convince her with a smile, but she must see through it, because she gives him a puzzled look as her gaze sweeps over him. A beat passes before she takes a deep breath.

“Of course I need to,” It’s not intended for it to come out in a whisper, but it does anyways. “I’ll…” She loses her voice again as her eyebrows pinch together.

Yuji wonders if she doesn’t know what to say, or if she can’t say what she wants to. Either way, he waits with as much patience as he can muster for her to finish.

“I’ll always worry”

When it finally comes out, (y/n) seals her lips together, pressing them just tight enough that she’s sure they won’t let anything slip that she isn’t prepared to say. Although if the pounding heart in her chest has anything to do with it, it very well could all come tumbling out before she could stop herself.

The corners of Yuji’s mouth tilt into a frown as he stares back at her with his own concern. This isn’t right, she shouldn’t be worrying about him. The logical corner of his brain is raising red flags at alarming speeds. He needs to find something to say to right this, before she could put too much of her worry in him. He wasn’t worth worrying about, didn’t she see? He wouldn’t be here forever anyways, there were definitely more worthwhile things for her to focus on.

Instead, all that comes out is a quiet, “Why?”

(y/n) blinks, as if not understanding what he means at first. Her arms squeeze around herself a little tighter to preserve warmth, but really she’s only squishing the cold and soggy material of her pajama shirt against her stomach.

“Why?” She repeats in a soft huff, before shaking her head. “You’ll never really get it, hm?”

The tiniest of smiles forms on her lips as she looks up at him, gauging his reaction. Just like before, he’s got that lost look on his face. It’s cute, the little knot between his brows and the way his frown deepens but only makes his lip jut out in a pout. One of these days she’ll tell him how adorable this look on him is, but right now she’s only seeking to help him understand the way she feels about him.

“Yuji, do you remember when we all thought you’d died, but then Gojo brought you back?”

“Of course” He answers her without hesitation.

“And I cried at you and made you promise not to do anything stupid like that again?”

This time, Yuji nods his head back at her.

“I’d never seen you cry before” He mumbles. Just like earlier, thinking about it makes his stomach squirm uncomfortably.

“Well, that was probably the thousandth time I’d cried over you,” She tells him, and his eyes go wide with alarm. A short, humorless laugh escapes her as she shakes her head at him. “Not because of anything you’d done,” She says quickly, already knowing there was going to be a misunderstanding. “But… we thought you were dead for quite some time, and I… I didn’t know what to do with myself. I’ve never felt like a larger failure as a sorcerer- as- as a person, when you died,”

Yuji’s frown worsens.

“I mean I… I was a wreck, it was awful. I could barely sleep, eat, train- I actually was denied assignments for a while. Gojo thought I would be a liability. I know he was just worried about me, but… what I’m trying to say is it was hard,” Her voice strains and she has to take a pause to even her breathing before her emotions could get on top of her. “Really hard” She adds quietly.

“I… I didn’t realize it was like that,” Yuji mumbles, ducking his head to stare down at the ground. How could he be so stupid? She’d suffered over him and shortly after coming back he’d started distancing himself without an explanation. “I’m sorry, I feel so-”

“No, don’t,” (y/n) steps forward, tilting her chin to catch his line of sight even when he tries to avoid her gaze. “I don’t need you to apologize, you haven’t done anything wrong, not at all,” She even gives him a small smile to convince him. It takes a minute for him to commit to looking back at her. “Yuji, it’s quiet the opposite”

“The opposite?” He repeats, and she nods her head.

Her nerves have her repeatedly pushing her wet strands of hair behind her ears, tucking the same strands over and over to make sure they couldn’t possibly fall out of place. Even though with how wet they were they practically slicked back against her head.

“I’m trying to tell you that I care about you, idiot,” She breathes out the insult so softly, so lovingly that even though it’s nature is cruel, his heart accepts it as the most darling pet name anyone had ever called him. “So I’m going to worry about you… because I’ve lost you before, and I don’t want to go through that again”

It doesn’t dawn on him how much closer she’d gotten to him until he lifts his head and they’re almost nose to nose. Her eyes don’t shy away from his once. They’re soft, and full of his favorite constellations. He melts little by little before her, until his muscles stop shivering.

“I don’t ever want to put you through that again,”

He whispers it as if it’s the most hidden secret he could offer her. With it, his hand reaches out towards her, his eyes landing on the smallest strand of wet hair that she’d missed in her rampant tucking. It’s clung to her cheek from the rain. But his movements still just before his fingers could graze over her skin.

“But…”

He doesn’t have to say it. They both know. There’s no sense in speaking about the thing that they never talk about. It was his burden to carry, wasn’t it? It wasn’t fair to make anyone else carry the weight of his punishment. Even if just for a moment. Even if his back is tired and he longs to love her like a man with no worry about a scheduled death date creeping up on him.

Yuji swallows, hard, trying to keep the unspoken reality just that- unspoken.

But he can’t help but feel as though he owes her an explanation.

“But I’m afraid I’m going to,” His mouth feels dry as he finally tiptoes towards the subject. (y/n’s) face falls. “One day, you know I… I’ll be gone and- and I won’t be coming back again”

As her eyes flicker between his, there’s the smallest of movement in her chin, and incidentally she feels his fingertips ghost over her cheek. Her head tilts towards the warmth of his featherlight touch right away, leaning into it until the pads of his fingers are pressed into her soft cheekbone.

As Yuji tells himself to pull away and step back, he finds the rest of his hand following her movement, until his palm is fitted over her cheek, and the tip of his index finger is finally pushing that stray hair back behind her ear.

“Are you afraid of death?” Her question is murmured so softly it’s almost spoken right into his lips.

He shakes his head.

“No,” He answers quietly. “No, I’m not afraid of death. I’m afraid of… what gets left behind,”

He’s never shared this with anyone before. He’d been bottling up the nasty feelings that come with knowing you’ll be executed for so long that it felt criminal to admit them to her now. Especially when she frowns up at him, and he can see the tears forming in her pretty eyes.

“I’m afraid that I’m going to hurt the people I care about because… because I cared about them” He admits.

When she blinks, a tear escapes, and makes a run for it down her cheek.

“Yuji…” She trails off, a small gasp interrupting her. “You won’t hurt anyone,” She tells him, even as another tear follows suit. Just as it slips past her cheekbone, Yuji’s thumb catches it, and he wipes it away without hesitation, determined to keep her from crying over him anymore than she already has. “We’ll be okay”

“I don’t want to keep making you cry” He sighs, and she reaches up to grab him by the wrist, squeezing onto it as she presses her cheek further into the palm of his hand.

“You’re not making me cry,” She assures him, a watery smile stretching over her lips. “I’m crying because- because what I’m afraid of is that you’ll die not knowing how loved you were,”

His frown finally softens, morphing into faint surprise.

“I would never forgive myself if I didn’t make sure that you know that, every single day, for as long as you live,” She’s stammering a little bit, but there’s a sudden rush that overwhelms her, making her want to spill it all out before it’s too late. “I’ve never… I’ve never felt so moved by another person before I met you, Yuji,” She confesses. “I was just… training to be my best every day just because I thought that’s what you do when you’re in my position but then… then you came along, seemingly out of nowhere, and you turned everything so upside down I could barely see what the right direction was,”

She’s cut off by a giggle that escapes her, and it’s almost out of place, but her entire face brightens with it as she relives that first blossom of feeling he’d sparked in her. She’d never be able to describe to him exactly what he’d done for her, he’d never understand the way he sparked a purpose in her so deep that it made her feel like she’d finally grown a soul, but she could try.

“Yuji, you gave me a reason to want to be a jujutsu sorcerer, you know?” And he doesn’t know, but she continues anyway. “You made me not only want to be a better sorcerer, but a better person. That’s why when you died I felt so pathetic, for not being able to do something, to help you,” She explained. “You were so bright and- and eager to do the right thing even when it was hard, even though you have every reason to just- just do whatever you want, to leave if you wanted…”

She gnaws on her lip for a moment as she processes it all herself. Her heart felt heavy in her chest, but she felt a certain responsibility to tell him the full truth.

“But you didn’t… you… you stayed,” She mumbles.

At this point, Yuji’s too stunned to speak, so he just stood there, frozen, taking in every word she had to say. He doesn’t want to interrupt her, but he’s also at such a loss for words nothing would come out if he tried.

“I’m trying to tell you I- that I lo-”

“Don’t,”

He shakes his head, his hand sliding lower over her cheek, thumb hovering just over her lips, ready to press down if his interruption wasn’t enough to keep her from finishing her confession. But she does stop, and he watches closely to make sure she doesn’t try again, his thumb still hovering just over her quivering lips just in case.

“Don’t say that” He whispers, quieter than the rain around them.

With the hand she still has curled around his wrist, she pulls his hand away, dropping them at their sides.

“Why not?” Her brows pinch together, her heart aching with the weight of the words still stuck inside of her.

“Because, you…” He tries to give her a reason, but it’s not an easy feat. It takes a few tries of him opening and closing his mouth before something actually comes out. “Because you can’t”

She doesn’t like that answer. She frowns back at him.

“Yuji, you-”

“Because if you say that, then when I’ll die, I’ll know it, and I’ll know that I’m letting you down again. I’ll know that you’ll cry over me, and you’ll- you’ll hurt and I can’t- I’m selfish, alright? I can’t cause that, I don’t want that-”

“Yuji,” She calls his name again, this time reaching for him with her trembling fingers, clutching at the front material of his shirt to grab his attention enough to cut him off. “It’s far too late for that now,” She says it with a chuckle and a bittersweet smile forming on her face. Her head tilts at him, just a short angle, but enough that it makes him feel weak in the knees. “Don’t you think?”

No, there’s still time to take this all back, there’s still time to fix this. There’s still time for him to end whatever is happening now and forget that it ever happened.

The faint nod he gives is only received due to the movement of his wet hair. He’s not sure why he’s agreeing with her, but the logical corner of his brain was being squandered by his body’s instant reaction to be honest with her, to comfort her, to make everything okay, anything to keep her from crying.

“Too late?” He echoes the words curiously.

Her smile softens as she nods back at him again, her free hand touching his jaw, so lightly he wants nothing more than to grab her wrist and press her hand into his face until the warmth of her small palm against his jaw was the only thing that he could feel.

She nods back at him, her lips pursing towards the corner of her mouth as she fights the urge to grin back at him.

“Afraid so,” She murmurs back.

They share small smiles and warm cheeks for a moment, and (y/n) becomes a little more sure of herself as she lays her fingers against the length of his jaw.

“But either way, are you gonna let me fess up now?” She asks, and it seems she really was waiting for his approval. “I walked all this way in the rain, you know-”

“When you have my number” He reminds her, and she laughs again, quiet and sweet.

“I felt like the walk”

“During a huge storm?”

“Needed the air”

“You’re soaked to the bone, you’re still shivering”

“And it’s so bad that I wanted to come ‘n see you?”

“I’m in love with you,”

The bantering ends there. (y/n’s) eyes double in size, and her shaking fingers finally still against his skin. There’s no doubt that she heard him, but with how frozen she is before him now it was as if he suddenly lost the ability to understand the language.

Yuji’s cradling her face again, his hands cupped under her jaw and his face so close she could almost tear up again.

“I’m so in love with you,” He says it again for good measure, or just because he couldn’t hold it back now that it was out there. “I…” He shakes his head, a breathless laugh escaping him, before he can’t help but confess one more time. “I love you”

“I love you too” It comes out so fast, as if the blockage in her throat was suddenly removed. It’s followed by the faintest of smiles at first, timid and sweet- it’s the most innocent he’s ever seen her look.

(Compared to the twisted grins she’d wear on assignments and even while training on her own, at least)

The shy smile quickly spreads wider, until it’s a goofy and toothy grin. She can’t contain the spurts of giggles that escape her, because it’s just all too cliche isn’t it? Getting caught in the rain, sharing confessions that might be better left unsaid- and yet they just couldn’t help themselves.

He’s laughing with her, quiet and soft, before his hands drop to her hips and wind around her waist, tugging her against him in a tight hug.

The sticky wet clothes make them both chilly again, but no one seems to mind. Not when she’s wrapping her arms around his neck so tight that their wet clothes are clinging together. They hang on as tight as they can before the wet clothes become too much of a hindrance, and they have to peel apart.

“C’mon,” Yuji’s quick to sling his arm around her waist and pull her towards the door. “Let’s get some dry clothes”

She follows him in, keeping as close as she can and walking on the tips of her toes once they’re inside, just to be sure that they wouldn’t be heard. Even though the thunder was still rolling outside, Megumi was a known light sleeper, and they wouldn’t put it past him to wake up at the slightest creak of a floorboard.

“And something to eat, too?” She whispers, peeking up at him with hopeful eyes.

Yuji nods, smiling back at her. It was ridiculously late, they surely wouldn’t be getting enough sleep to be well rested tomorrow, but that was a problem for tomorrow.

“Anything in mind?” He asks as they creep their way through the halls. The smile she gives him in return suggests that she already knew exactly what she wanted. Yuji can’t say he’s surprised when she answers.

“Meatballs…?”

And it might be a ridiculous ask- because it’s two in the morning and it’ll be at least an hour before they could actually eat the meatballs, but Yuji beams at the suggestion, and agrees to the request right away.

“It’s about time I teach you how to make them, anyways” He says softly.

“Yeah,” (y/n) agreed, whispering just as carefully. “I’d like that a lot”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[ lost but now i am found // i can see that once i was blind // tryna take what i could get, scared that i couldn’t find all the answers honey ]

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

xoxo ~ jordie

#absolutely beautiful #masterpiece #itadori yuji x reader #itadori yuji #yuji x reader #itadori x reader #i’m in love #and in tears #🩷

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