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moonvyx · 23 days

Note

careless whisper by george michael , gojo , angst

WC: 2k

CW: cheating, angst, hurt/no comfort, reader has female pronouns (referred to as madam and birthday girl), alcohol consumption (all characters are of age), swearing

Taglist (lmk if you want to be added to the event taglist): @chosolovers @ssetsuka @ichikanu

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For one night, one night alone you were going to put all of your suspicions and past hurt aside and enjoy the party. After all, it was your birthday so the night was supposed to be all about you.

Shooting a smile at your boyfriend across the room you can't help but feel your stomach flutter as he shoots you a wink and begins making his way through the crowd towards you. Stopping in front of you he sweeps forward in an exaggerated bow, extending his arm.

“Madam Birthday Girl, will you do me the honor of dancing with me?”

Laughing at his antics, you relax, reassured by his usual behavior. Of course everything was normal between the two of you. You were just being paranoid. Placing your hand in his, you allowed him to escort you onto the dance floor.

I take your hand and lead you to the dance floor

Wrapping your arms around his neck and swaying slowly to the music you rested your face against his chest and enjoyed the peace of the moment. Or, at least you tried to.

As soon as your nose brushed his blue button up your senses were invaded with some sort of expensive oriental perfume, meant to be subtle with rose and jasmine. But judging from the way your nose burned, whoever had been wearing it must have been wearing a whole bottle for the residual left on his clothes to be so strong. Nothing like the one or two spritzes of understated wildflower perfumes you preferred.

Fighting the urge to gag at the overpowering scent, you looked up over his shoulder in an attempt to get some fresh air. Instead you were confronted by lipstick stains on the edge of his collar. Bright pink lipstick stains, which couldn’t possibly be yours, because you would never wear a color that garish.

Suddenly you no longer felt like dancing, and as the song’s outro played you decided to give him one more chance to explain himself after the party. If he couldn’t do that, then the two of you were done. Looking up into his eyes you gave him a forced smile, a small part of you screaming that this was going to be the last time the two of you danced like this.

As the music dies, something in your eyes

Calls to mind a silver screen

And all its sad good-byes

After the song ended Gojo watched you walk away, unsettled by the finality in your eyes. Had you figured it out? Did you know where he had been before the party? Who was he kidding of course you had. As much as the two of you had danced around the obvious truth for months he knew that you knew. He had fallen in love with your quick wits and intelligence. There was no way you hadn’t put two and two together.

But despite forgotten dates, the nights he came home late or not at all, the perfume that wasn’t yours clinging to his skin, he dared to hope that you would just keep pretending not to know. That things could stay the way they were. If only you weren’t so smart.

Though it's easy to pretend

I know you're not a fool

Walking across the room you mingled with the guests, accepting birthday wishes and engaging in small talk. Heading over to the bar, you got a refill on your drink and leaned against the bar sipping it. You heaved a sigh, wishing the entire thing was over and that you could just go home. A large warm hand placed on your shoulder interrupted your stewing, causing you to turn around.

“Oh! Geto! Hi! I wasn’t expecting you to come. How are you?” You were surprised to see none other than your boyfriend’s best friend, Geto Suguru. The large man chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly at your surprise.

“Sorry, I was in the area and decided to drop by. I’m doing okay, but actually I’m here to ask you that. I’m really sorry about what Satoru did. It was fucked up. How are you doing with the breakup? I may be his best friend but just know that I’m always here for you-”

“Wait, what? The breakup?” You were confused. You hadn’t even told your best friends about your plans to confront Satoru, seeing as you had only made up your mind a few minutes ago. “What are you talking about?”

“What do you mean ‘what do you mean?’ We had a conversation and Satoru promised me-” Realization lit up in his dark eyes. “He didn’t do it, did he? Oh that son of a-” He stops, looking at you guiltily.

“Listen, I’m really sorry. You should hear it from him. I gotta go now.” With that, he turned and walked away, leaving you with a sinking feeling in your gut.

From across the room, Gojo watched his friend leave, knowing that whatever had just happened between the two of you could not not have been good. Not wanting to obsess over what Suguru could have said, he turned away and jumped into a conversation. Whatever was said had been said already. There was nothing he could do about it at the moment.

Time can never mend

The careless whispers of a good friend

If he had watched a few seconds longer he would have seen you shake yourself then chase after his friend, looking for answers. Darting around guests and avoiding dancing couples you caught up to Geto just outside of the building.

“Wait!” You yelled, hurrying to catch up with him. “You can’t just leave like that! I need to know what you mean.”

Not turning, Geto shook his head. “Trust me on this one. You don’t want to know. Let him tell you. I’ll make sure he does, but you shouldn’t hear this from me.”

“I’m pretty sure I already know.” The words fly out of your mouth before you could stop them. “He’s cheating on me, right? Listen, I need to know. I’m probably going to break up with him tonight. So it doesn’t matter anyways. Just tell me.”

Rubbing his face with one hand he sighed and chuckled without humor. “Of course you know. Jesus this whole situation is so fucked up.” He turned around and looked at you properly.

“Let’s go find somewhere to sit. This might take a little while.”

To the heart and mind

Ignorance is kind

Geto had left a couple of minutes ago, leaving you sitting on a sidewalk bench organizing your thoughts. Fighting the urge to cry, you were unsure why the pain in your chest was so sharp. You had been almost positive, he was cheating on you, so why did it hurt so bad to have your suspicions confirmed? It wasn’t like the knowledge was anything new to you.

Maybe it was because you now knew that the woman was the daughter of a wealthy family close to the Gojos. Maybe it was because you knew that it had been going on for months, and when Geto found out he had made Satoru promise to either end things with the other girl or break up with you. Maybe it was knowing that after making that promise Geto had found him with the other woman again, leading him to assume Satoru had broken up with you.

Whatever it was, it fucking hurt. Letting out a small sob, you clutched your chest feeling your heart break. Unable to stop the tears from spilling over your waterline you opened your phone and texted him that you knew before you could back out.

But as you wiped your face and headed back to the party because you would be damned if you let him ruin your night, a small part of you wished you hadn’t discovered the truth.

There's no comfort in the truth

Pain is all you'll find

After receiving your text, Satoru watched the entrance intensely, waiting for you to return. The second you step through the door he locks eyes with you, gesturing towards the outside, mouthing that he wanted to talk.

Instead of turning around and walking back outside so the two of you could talk like he had expected, you just strolled into the party and joined a group of your friends. Whipping out his phone, he tried to send you a text, only to discover that he had been blocked.

Then the panic set in as he started trying to make his way towards you. But at that moment a popular song came on over the speakers, and the crowd became rowdy, making it impossible for him to get to you. It was like the crowd was against him, pushing him back towards the edge of the dance floor instead of across it to where you were.

Didn’t they understand that he needed to get to you? That he need to explain himself? He wishes the crowd would just disappear. That it was just you and him, with nothing else in the way.

Tonight the music seems so loud

I wish that we could lose this crowd

As he continues to scan the crowd for you, he finally catches sight of you dancing with your friends, laughing and singing along to the song. Shouting your name, he waves frantically, but the venom in your eyes when they meet his make his voice die out.

Maybe it was for the better that the two of you didn’t talk right then. You didn’t seem like you were in a place where you would be able to talk reasonably. Turning, he decided to head out for the night and give you the space you so clearly needed. He would just talk to you tomorrow.

Maybe it's better this way

We'd hurt each other with the things we'd want to say

The next day when he went to your place to talk, Satoru was greeted by a box of all of his things sitting outside of your apartment and a post-it note declaring that the two of you were over. And despite all of his screaming and pleading and banging on the door, you didn’t come out that day. Or the next. Or the one after that.

Now it’s been months, and he’s given up on winning you back. It’s clear you have no interest in hearing him out. And in those three months he had come to realize just how much you had meant to him. You were his better half, the one he truly loved. The other woman he had cheated on you with couldn’t hold a candle to you.

If only he hadn’t been such an idiot. Maybe if he hadn’t been so conceited and cocky he would have seen the value in what the two of you shared and the two of you would still be together. Maybe the two of you would have spent the rest of your lives in happiness together. But that’s not what happened, and now he was all alone.

We could have lived this dance forever

But now, who's gonna dance with me?

Years had passed, and he was still alone. At first he had tried dating to get over you, but after realizing that the first girl had a similar smile to you, the second had the same shade eyes as you, the third your hair color, he stopped.

It didn’t matter how hard he subconsciously tried to find girls to replace you. None of them were ever going to be you. And the guilt he harbored over the way he treated you would follow him into the grave. He lost the best thing that ever happened to him. There was no recovering from that.

And I'm never gonna dance again

Guilty feet have got no rhythm

Note: to the people who asked to be tagged on the poll, i haven't added you to my event taglist yet, it was just for this fiic dw. however if you would like to be added, let me know!!

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moonvyx · 24 days

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The Widow's Keeper

Marrying again after losing your husband in Shibuya was never part of your plan. Then, Higuruma Hiromi came along.

Warnings: Character death, grief, angst, fluff

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A hysterical shriek-- a frantic cry for a man long dead-- rang through the bedroom, enveloped in the dark warmth of night, and broke down into anguished sobs. A soft shout of alarm, and hurried reassurances, sobs muffled, hands stroking, soothing, kisses on foreheads.

Hiromi held you to his chest, his pyjama top damp with your tears, his eyes gritty from sudden wakefulness. You cried away your grief, still so raw, replaying over and over in your dreams-- taunting you with 'what if's and 'if only's. Hiromi's nose nuzzled into your hair, both arms tightly holding you lest you fall apart against him, mumbling his sweet love in humid little breaths to your head.

It had been a while since you had dreamed of Nanami Kento, he pondered, rocking you gently from side-to-side. Dead and buried for almost 4 years now, Hiromi had married you and your trauma, your loss, your fallen love. He had taken you as the package you were, a complex parcel, and the mother of the second love of his life.

Little footsteps approached the door; little hands, cautious against the cool wood, pushed it open with a squeak.

"Mummy? Daddy? Is it a bad dream? You woke me up," grumbled your little girl, blonde and brown-eyed, with sharp delicate features. You sat up hurriedly, wiping your eyes and plastering on a damp smile. As you began moving to get out of bed, Hiromi laid a gentle hand on your thigh, kissing you on the temple.

"I'll take it from here," he hushed, and you sniffled, threatening tears again, "go back to sleep. I love you."

Planting a watery kiss to Hiromi's lips, you laid down in bed, burrowing your nose into his pillow, his smell, always feeling your adoration for him with the sting of guilt.

Hiromi scooted to the door, his loud shuffling footsteps pretending to be sneaky as he scooped his daughter up in his arms, nosing at her with deliberate snuffles. She giggled, batting him away, capturing his face in her little hands, slanted eyes narrow and delighted.

"Back to bed, little one. Your teddies can't sleep without you." Hiromi's playful bargaining wasn't needed, his daughter half-asleep in his arms already, while her arms wound around his neck to snuggle her head under his chin. By the time he had tucked her back into bed, she breathed soft snores, her bed still warm from the nest she had made.

Hiromi crouched by your daughter's bed, watching her, committing all of her features to memory; never this small, ever again, he thought, bittersweet as she grew, blooming. He stroked her hair, nursing the stale guilt of feeling he had stolen this life from another man, and feeling so deeply undeserving, so ashamed because of it.

While Hiromi knew his daughter-- your daughter, Kento's daughter-- more than Kento ever would, there felt to be an impenetrable wall to his love, an absence of a blood bond, stolen away from a man who did not want to leave his wife, and had not even known he was to become a father. Hiromi felt responsible, as if he had spirited you both away himself. He did not deserve to hold you through your grief; he did not deserve to be daddy.

Planting a last kiss to his daughter's forehead, a long-fingered hand stroking blond flicks out of her eyes, Hiromi tiptoed to the door. He hesitated for a moment, then tiptoed back. A brown teddy with its familiar, well-fiddled-with and far-too-large-for-teddies yellow leopard-spotted tie, belonged in his daughters' arms, and not on the floor.

Padding back to your bedroom, a thief in the night, the sheets played a gentle susurrus over your bodies as Hiromi tangled his legs through yours, lying on his back so you could tuck across his chest. You slipped a hand under his t-shirt, travelling up to his chest to stroke its patch of downy black hair. Hiromi's fingers tangled through your hair, examining the whorls of your ear, rolling your earlobe in thought.

"I'm so sorry," you hiccuped into Hiromi's chest, and you heaved with sobs when his reassurance began before you had even finished apologising, his arms tightening around you. He cupped your face in his hands, tilting it, look at me, come on darling, please, look at me.

Hiromi held your face, your cheeks squashed and blotchy with tears in his palms. He felt a trickle of disgust with himself run down his throat, as he stole his role as your hero from Kento, "None of that. You know you don't have to apologise for anything--"

"But I love him," you sobbed, voice cracking with devastated guilt, feeling like a filthy liar, a cheater, a bigamist, "I love him so much and I want him back, but I want you, Hiro, I-- I--" Hiromi nodded, still gazing into you, hooded dark eyes like little embers in the night. You felt a surge of appreciative, grateful love as he drank down your proclamations of love for another man, and wanted you anyway.

"If it were the other way round," Hiromi started, slow and deliberate, "if it were me who had died, and Kento loved you after...I would trust him completely to carry the torch for me. To give you two everything that I wouldn't be able to give."

You wept again, your face and chest aching, loss heavy in your soul. Hiromi kept you close, tethering you, repeating in a tender mantra; "You can love us both. You can love us both, because we both love you. You can love us both."

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"I...I'm not very good at this sort of thing."

Hiromi's words fell weakly, unanswered by the dead. Nanami Kento's grave was pristine under the hands of his many friends, his lover, his students, those he had saved. He was popular in death as he had been in life; not inundated with true friends, but awash with bannermen and admirers, those who aspired to be like him, and those who aspired to be liked by him. An admission of guilt writhed in Hiromi's chest, bursting out in one strained cry.

"I can't feel sad that you died," Hiromi spat, disgusted not with Kento, but with himself, "because if you hadn't died, I wouldn't have them, and I'm a real piece of shit--"

"No you're not," a friendly voice drawled to Hiromi's left. Hiromi froze, eyes wide and paralyzed, dread creeping through him that someone had heard his biggest shame--

"-- and Nanami wouldn't have thought so, either. I bet she was the last thing he thought about-- worrying about her, who would look after her. He'd be happy. For her to have a good man. Like you."

Ino Takuma leaned down beside Hiromi, speaking a brief prayer above Kento, a wrapped, spotted blunt blade harnessed onto his back. Placing some fresh flowers down, he stood up again.

Hiromi and Ino were silent together amongst the rustling willows, the smooth dappling sunlight, the whispering babble of the shallow river. Ino rocked on his heels, smiling, hands pocketed. Hiromi hung his head in shame.

"You can...you can feel both, Higuruma. Regret for him dying and leaving her, and...and loving her, I guess. You're not a bad person. I bet she beats herself up for marrying again, right?"

Hiromi swallowed, nodding quickly after a breath's pause. Images flitted across his mind-- you, resplendent in your gown. Your daughter, so solemn on her big day, scattering petals down the aisle. Your earnest kiss, your joyful dancing, your gracious speech. Your wedding night breakdown, holding you in a hot bath in innocent intimacy, folding your lingerie away in favour of a soft nightdress, nothing expected, nothing lost, in life and in death, in sickness and in health.

"You've just...you've just got to be his wingman, y'know?" Ino stated, arms crossed up behind his balaclava'd head, "You and Nanami...you're both her husband. You're both my niece's dad. So big him up a bit for us, huh?"

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"Hey, dad?"

Hiromi leaned round the fridge door, crows feet crinkling around his eyes as he popped a cube of cheese into his mouth, busted.

His daughter smirked at him, fine eyebrows raised under a smooth honey-blonde fringe. As tall as Hiromi, leggy and sarcastic, Hiromi didn't so much tell this young woman off now, as get savagely roasted by her dry wit. Hiromi took it with all of the frustrated joy of a father trying to parent a young woman with unparentably excellent traits.

"Cheese?" Hiromi offered, flicking a cube deftly at his daughter. She caught it, seamlessly, eyes narrowing at him. For all the bravado she was putting on, Hiromi knew she was putting it on. He headed over, pulling her to him with one arm, blonde head against black-grey head.

"Penny for them?"

She sighed, and began: "Did you...meet him?"

Him. Ah.

"I did not," Hiromi admitted, "but I know he was exceptional. Your mother has wonderful taste." He accepted the slap to his arm, well-deserved.

"I can never...I don't think I'll ever be as good as him." Hiromi's heart swelled and ached for his daughter; he felt an odd kinship, one of them in such a powerful shadow, one of them in such enormous shoes. Hiromi nodded, his throat thick.

"You're right," he said, his daughter's lips puckering up in grim acceptance, looking at the floor, "your dad was a hero. He protected the weak when nobody else wanted to. He took on the messy jobs with nothing more than a glass of whiskey and your mum's love behind him. He was funny, kind, patient, empathetic... he was the best of the best. The best sort of man. He's a legend even now."

"So, no, sweetheart, you're never going to be as good as him," Hiromi turned to his daughter, cupping her high-cheeked face in his hands, pressing her to look at him, "you're going to be better. You have all three of us in you, and you carry it so well."

Hiromi's daughter let out a dry sob, refusing to let tears fall. She sniffled, pulling close to Hiromi, letting herself be held. Rubbing her nose and pulling her hair behind one ear, she reached behind her onto a chair, revealing a black, rectangular handled case.

"Uncle Ino gave me something, today," she started, unclipping the case, "he said it was dad's. I thought I...I want to use it. Like he did."

Hiromi gazed fondly down at the blade of legends, white wrapping yellowed at the edges with age, but still just as deadly. He smiled, and your daughter relaxed into his wordless reassurance.

"Yes. Absolutely. It's the only...you're the only one who could do this old thing justice, now," Hiromi pressed, eager to hold Kento and his child together across the impenetrable veil of death, "but I have to warn you."

His daughter glanced to Hiromi, anxious. He took a deep breath, and continued;

"Your mother will cry when she sees this."

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A few tears slipped out while I wrote this.

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moonvyx · 25 days

Note

So..you know how you did the drunk I miss you smau? Would you mind reversing that, where it's the jjk guys drunk texting y/n after they broke up? Love your works!!

SMAU- THE GUYS TEXT YOU I MISS YOU WHILE DRUNK

(Gojo, Geto, Toji, Nanami, Choso)

Note: tysm I'm glad ur enjoying them. Please feel free to leave requests 😗.

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moonvyx · 27 days

Text

of course other women want your boyfriend

pairing: nanami kento x reader

tags: nanami is 34. is that a warning? lol.

"your dad's kinda hot."

the bar isn't too full, just the regular crowd, and then some. of course there were other college kids, none that you knew. well, except this one.

you've seen aiko around, always at the back of the class. not that that's worth shaming, you ended up back there too often due to sleepy mornings to be looking down on her.

no, it's the constant bitching and laughing during class that pissed you the fuck off. not an ounce of respect or decorum for the rest of you depressed losers just trying to make it out of class with notes that made sense, or the poor professor, who has long since given up on admonishing her. so maybe you did once tell her off in the middle of class a week before finals. just once. or twice.

and here she is, having tapped on your shoulder as you were sipping your drink, bitching and laughing with her friends hanging behind her, snickering along.

"that's not my dad," you reply, ticked off.

her eyes widen in faux shock. "even better then! I didn't wanna make it too messy for you. what's his instagram?"

you laugh, bunching up your shoulders, finally putting down your drink and getting up. you're usually not the jealous type, and you're not even feeling jealous right now, more like a bubbling irritation.

"he doesn't have an Instagram. he's thirty four, what instagram do you think you're gonna be hitting him up on, huh?"

"thirty four? he looks forty plus at least! I didn't know being with a stuck up bitch like you would age a man like that, but makes sense!" she scoffs, looking you up and down.

"so you can pick up on social cues! I was wondering how you couldn't figure out that he's my boyfriend from the kiss he gave me or, perhaps from the way he was holding me, but turns out you're just a rude bitch who wants to slather her fingers all over my boyfriend!" you snap at her.

that makes a few people around you look over, and as much as you wanted to smack her across her face, you needed to maintain some decorum.

"then where is he now? where's your boyfriend? and which forty year old brings his little girlfriend on a night out to a bar like-"

"there you are, sweetheart."

kento slides his arm around your waist, slipping into the seat next to yours.

nanami kento. thirty four. food critic! 6' 1", honey blonde hair slicked back, but a few pieces spill out on to his face, deep brown eyes that are both soft and sharp. his white shirt's sleeves rolled up to his elbows showing his thick forearms, veiny with light, golden hair. the bar and the girl in front of you almost fade to the back of your mind when his cologne hits your nose, sending you into a daze.

almost.

"ken!" you breathe.

"did i keep you too long? you know satoru, refusing to get to the point," he frowns, dropping a kiss on your forehead. "what's got you all worked up?"

"hey!"

his eyes leave yours to look at aiko. "yes?"

"how come she doesn't bring you around more often? she's always all by herself, in her own little world! so shy, really! i'm aiko, we go to class together!" she smiles at him, all cute and bubbly like.

"what are you trying to do?" you ask, shouldering youself between kento and her. "you trying to swoop in and show him a better life or something? do you need attention that bad?"

"oh my god, you guys, look she's getting all bothered!" she gasps to her friends around her. "no babe i didn't mean it like that, i just meant it like i am personally, SO happy that someone like you's found love, you know? even if it's with someone who is SO different from you, you're finally out of your shell, and clearly, there is someone for everyone!" she gushes, and then looks over your shoulder at kento.

"why are you looking at him, look at me," you interject, something finally snapping in you. kento can sense the change in you, and places his hands on your waist.

"sweetheart, i think- "

you appreciate it, but you can handle this, you're FINE.

"no no," you repeat, "look at me! because do you think he's gonna treat you the way he treats me? do you think he's gonna keep up with your bullshit, and your little friend group and not see you for the pathetic attention seeking loser you are? you think he's gonna buy you the stuff you want and take you to all your raves and whatnot? this man goes to sleep every night by eleven thirty! you don't see him at parties because he's thirty four fucking years old, and his definition of a night out is wine and fine dining, with ME! he treats me like this, and buys me whatever the fuck i want, because i'm me, he's not gonna treat you like that babe!"

"don't get all worked up!" aiko spits "we can just be friends, you know!" she twirls her hair, her eyes still on kento.

"what are you twirling your hair for? he's not even looking at you, the only thing that that's gonna do is make you even balder. spending all your time trying to poach another bitch's man the whole time your bald spot's been making direct eye contact with me."

she gasps, and deep down i know i would never say that to a girl unless she absolutely deserved it, and aiko has been begging for it.

kento squeezes your waist, standing up, towering over you from behind.

"baby, she said she just wanted to be friends, didn't she?" he asks. "why don't you give her my instagram?"

aiko chuckles, seeming to have recovered. she pushes her phone into his hands, instagram open, and he hands it over to you diligently.

you scoff and type in his username, pressing the follow button and shoving it back to her.

"now that that's done," sighs kento, holding you. "it's getting a little hot in here, isn't it honey? let's get this scarf off of you."

his hands unfasten the scarf that you had tied around your neck, that you're sure aiko just attributed to poor fashion sense. despite the previous chaos, your eyes follow his thick fingers as the open the knot, and unloop the scarf from around your neck, causing the scarf to slip out and leave you neck bare in the deep v neck top you had put on this morning.

deep red and purple bruises litter your neck, all the way down to your breasts, disappearing off behind the lace borders of the neck of your top.

kento stares at you, smug and unclouded desire clear on his face. he slides his hands up and holds the sides of your neck firmly, squeezing slightly. he pulls you closer and your lips meet in a deep kiss, his thumbs rubbing slow circles on your cheek. the kiss leaves you breathless as he pulls away and leans back in to place on more kiss on your wet, parted lips, taking you by surprise.

"that's perfect," he thumbs on one of the hickies, eyes never leaving you. "my perfect girl."

warmth floods up your chest and face. a smile can't help but spread across your face as you lean into him.

"let's go, love. dinner, wine and that eleven thirty nap time awaits us," he chuckles, taking your hand, gathering your bag and turning away to leave, not a single glance given to aiko.

aiko!

you turn to her, a lazy, easy grin on your face, glancing to her phone open with kento's instagram, and then back up at her. "happy stalking!"

aiko and her friends are sure to spend the night pouring over kento's instagram, which is filled to the brim with pictures of you, you and him, food, you, travel and his girlfriend, you.

DO NOT REPOST

yay first fic!!!

likes, reblogs, comments HIGHLY appreciated 🩷

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moonvyx · 1 month

Note

Hello love! ❤️

I have a feeling Nanami is that kind of person who wrinkles his nose at Boba tea, then when he actually tries it he ends up loving it 😊

Can you write something cute for him trying Boba tea for the first time maybe he ends up liking milk tea or something.

short but sweet, hope you enjoy!

You are so excited to show him this little tea shop. Kento isn’t someone who usually treats himself to frivolous little things like this, so you were more than happy to show it to him. You open the door for him, and the barista is quick to greet you. You wave at her, guiding your husband towards the counter.

“Boba tea?” He’s got this look on his face that says he’s not overly interested.

You giggle, “I’ll order one for me and we can share.”

You order your usual boba tea and then you bring Kento over to the table where you like to sit. It’s a quiet night, and you both have the chance to just relax and feel good. Kento has been overworked, so he’s enjoying this quiet time.

Once your order is up, you go grab it from the counter. He looks at it, his nose wrinkling a little in disgust. He’s not usually one for something so sweet. But he wants to give it a chance before he gives it a proper judgment. This is something you enjoy, after all. And you’re being kind enough to share this part of your life with him.

“Try a little,” you offer the cup to him.

He brings the straw to his lips, making you watch him curiously. Then he takes a little sip. His mouth is filled with such a delicious treat. You swear his pupils almost turn into hearts. You giggle again when he begins gulping it down, a smile spread on his face.

“This is…this is really good,” he says as he passes it back to you.

There’s a warmth that spreads inside of you when you hear your husband talking about how one of your favorite things is so good to him. He’s always someone who’s more into the savory things of life. It’s not that he doesn’t like sweet things, but you just rarely see him indulging in that sort of thing.

“Would you like me to order you one?” You ask, and he nods his head.

You take his hand and you bring him back up to the counter. You and the barista talk him through the different flavors. He looks like a little kid in a candy store right now. You love seeing this side of your husband. Being able to indulge in the things he might not have been able to when he was growing up because of the way of life he had.

Then you two settle back at your table, both drinking your boba tea of choice. Happy as can be.

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moonvyx · 1 month

Note

Hiiii i really like reading some angst stuffs so heres my idea loll!

What about reader never felt like they were ever loved romantically and has been quite the loner for a while. So, to have Gojo confess to the reader has reader confused, but quite happy, but will soon find out that its a dare and Gojo only has the end of the year to make reader date him! (Just say the current month is near december loll)

But as time goes by, Gojo starts to actually have feelings for reader and suddenly reader overheard their convo of Gojo with his friends about the dare...

(PLS IM SORRY IF THIS IS TOO SPECIFIC THISIS ONE OF MY FIRST TIMES REQUESTING SMTHHH. BTW YOU CAN CHANGE THE GOJO TO ANYONE ELSE :3AND ALSO YOU CAN CHOOSE WETHER TO HAVE COMFORT OR NAH. AND THANKS FOR GIVING YOUR TIME TO READ THIS HAVE A NICE DAYY)

-🍰

Sypnosis - Gojo was already known to be a heartbreaker, but you didn't stop to think for a second that maybe -- just maybe -- he was trying to break your heart too.

Warning(s) - mature themes, foul language, Gojo is a MAJOR dick in this one, angst

Word Count - 3.1k

A/N - Hi Anon! (STOP IM CRYING I LOVE EMOJI ANONS SO MUCH) So you made the mistake of giving me an angst prompt while also saying that I could maybe add comfort. I will be doing no such thing. Kisses!

! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !

Satoru Gojo was, by every single standard, a lady’s man.

And you, by every single standard, were the complete opposite of every man’s “ideal type”.

How you managed to find yourself in a situation where you told others, “I’m dating Satoru Gojo,” felt like a fever dream constructed by the hardest drug.

The way in which he asked you out was — well — Satoru Gojo. A grand white banner with your name scrawled into it, underneath it the words: Go out with me?

Of course you accepted, though you were thoroughly confused. You had always been an observer from the shadows, not emerging unless it was absolutely necessary.

To have the Satoru Gojo ask you out in front of a gaggle of people was off putting — and certainly not anything that you had expected.

But none of that stopped you from saying yes, which made the snowy-haired male’s smile widen three times in size — if that was even possible.

“C’mon Satoru, it’s an easy 2,500 Yen,” Geto says, a sly smirk curling the corner of his mouth upward as he leans over the back of the couch.

Gojo sighs, jutting out his bottom lip as one of his hands busies itself with running through his hair. It wasn’t a terrible bet — even though the payoff didn’t exactly feel worth it.

“2,500 Yen to ask her out?” Gojo confirms, turning his head and glancing over the rims of his glasses. Geto smirks again, turning his phone and flashing a picture of you at Gojo, just to make sure that he would be asking out the right person.

“2,500 Yen,” Geto nods. Gojo sighs, his body slumping forward dramatically. Geto grins again, watching his best friend crack down — no way was he turning down a bet that he could easily secure.

“Fine, you have a deal,” Gojo holds his hand out, failing to hold back the smirk that curls his mouth upward as Geto slaps his hand against Gojo’s.

The two shake on it, and the bet is made.

But, of course, you were oblivious to all of that. You believed that, for the very first time, someone looked at you in a way that wasn’t strictly platonic. Someone loved you — really, truly loved you.

And what an extravagant partner Gojo was, buying you small trinkets that he believed you would like, taking you to restaurants that you had looked at on the street for a moment too long — he had even forced himself to learn how to ice skate because you mentioned offhandedly that it would be nice to skate with someone.

For the first time in a very long time, you felt connected to someone. Conversations flowed so easily between you both, never forced or uncomfortable. It was as if you had known each other your entire lives.

Gojo knew that it was fake — you thought it was truly real.

< … >

“(Y/N)! There you are!” Gojo calls out with a flashy wave of his arm. Once you’re in reach of him, he latches onto you, nose nuzzling into your hair.

You let out a startled squeak at the force of his body against yours, but immediately loosen up and return his embrace, snuggling as deeply as you can into his arms.

“Satoru!” you laugh out breathlessly, squeezing his shoulders as he lifts you from the ground, easily spinning the both of you in a circle. “You act like you haven’t seen me in years.”

Gojo rolls his eyes dramatically, setting you down but keeping his arms locked around your waist. He gaze meets yours through the darkened lenses of his glasses, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Oh god, I know that look,” you mutter teasingly, which earns you an affectionate pinch to your side — one that you swat him away for.

“You wound me,” Gojo sasses back, releasing you only to place a hand flat against his chest as if he had been stabbed. You roll your eyes, laughing breathily at his antics.

“What do you want to do tonight? It’s date night,” you remind him, watching as his face breaks into a bright smile. He reaches for you again, lifting your hand and twirling you around before he tugs you to his chest.

“I was thinking-“ he begins in a sing-song tone. You raise an eyebrow at him, which he quickly leans in to peck. “-we go to the movies, get some cheap froyo, and crash in your dorm.”

You smile at him, eyes crinkling adorably at the corners as you throw your arms around his neck, squeezing him.

“Yes please!”

< … >

“The movies? Froyo? God, if I didn’t know any better I’d say you’re falling for her,” Geto mocks the motion of throwing up, earning a laugh from the snowy-haired boy that stands next to him.

Gojo rolls his eyes, catching the basketball that Geto throws at his chest. He bounces it once against the ground before taking a shot, smirking as it swishes inaudibly into the basket.

“I want her to at least believe it,” Gojo responds with an indifferent shrug of his shoulders. Geto rolls his eyes, biting back the chuckle that rises in his throat. “What? I’m not lying.”

“No, I know you’re not lying,” Geto bends to pick up the abandoned basketball, bouncing it against the ground and taking a shot of his own — which misses.

“So then why the sudden comment?”

“Because of the look in your eyes whenever someone mentions her or whenever you see her,” Geto says plainly, turning to cross his arms at Gojo.

He purses his lips together, eyebrows pinching in confusion as he silently urges Geto to continue. How he looks at you?

Geto sighs through his nose, then lifting his fingers to pinch at its bridge. The basketball is long abandoned now, rolling into the center of the gym and remaining there.

“Every time she calls out to you with that — stupid nickname, you brighten up like a dog who’s seeing his owner,” Geto points out. Gojo can feel the tips of his ears burn red at that — because even he knew that it was true.

“Toru! There you are!” you call out affectionately, crossing the training fields and practically jumping into Gojo’s awaiting arms.

He smiles warmly as your face nestles into the junction between his neck and shoulder, breathing in the familiarity of your scent and holding you close to him.

“That isn’t true,” he murmurs, scratching at the back of his neck. Geto stands still for a moment, staring at Gojo with a look that could easily slaughter an entire town.

“No? How about when she made you lunch that one time?” Geto raises his eyebrow — his eyes visually calling bullshit as Gojo’s cheeks burn the same shade of red as his ears.

“Ta-da!” you smile widely as you present Gojo with the intricately put-together bento box. He takes it from your hands, allowing his fingers to brush against your own for a moment too long — an action that brought a light blush to your cheeks.

He smiles down at the bento you had prepared for him, feeling his heart swell at the idea that someone cared enough about him to sit down and put so much thought into preparing him a lunch. Gojo is quick to then lean in, pecking your cheek and smiling widely at the dark red hue that coats your face.

“That’s…different,” Gojo tries to argue, but Geto is quick to call out his bluff, laughing loudly in his friend’s face and striding towards the center of the gym to retrieve the abandoned basketball. He bends, scooping it into his palms and bouncing it twice against the ground.

“Oh, I’m sure that it is,” Geto rolls his eyes, twisting his body and shooting the basketball — already displaying annoyance when it misses yet again.

Gojo sighs, the puff of air he releases blowing his bangs from his face. He watches as Geto goes to retrieve the basketball, bouncing it once before roughly checking it to Gojo.

“Careful Satoru, I wouldn’t want you to fall for her,” Geto teases, feeling himself smirk as Gojo’s hands catch the basketball. The snowy-haired male rolls his eyes in response, bouncing the ball.

“That won’t happen, trust me,” Gojo bites back, not failing to notice the knowing glint in Geto’s eyes.

“Sure it won’t.”

< … >

Hey! I’m at the theatre, where are you?

READ

Satoru?

READ

I’m just assuming you’re running late, just text me when you’re here!

DELIVERED

Puffing out the air that you held in your cheeks, you stow your phone away into your pocket, eyes silently scanning the front entrance of the theatre. Maybe you missed him? No, there was no tuft of snowy-white hair anywhere in the crowd — surely he was just running late.

You shuffle on your feet, adjusting the small bag that you had brought with you. The interior is stuffed with snacks that both you and Gojo enjoyed — including his favorite from the local convenience store. You smile to yourself, already picturing the wide smile that would cross his face when you presented him with the snacks.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket, which you all but dive for with a speed that feels almost inhuman. You stare down at the illuminated screen, heart deflating as you realize it’s only a message from your mother, checking in and asking you how your date with Gojo was going.

Lifting a shaky hand to your eyes, you wipe away the tears that cling to your bottom lash line. You text your mother back, lying to her about the state of the date and pushing your phone back into your pockets. You glance back down at your open purse, blinking back your tears at the sight of the snacks — what a waste.

< … >

“Sato—“

You pause just outside of the classroom doors, resting your palms against the sliding door and peering curiously inside. Your eyebrows pinch together, eyes narrowing as you listen intently to the conversation shared between Gojo and Geto, both of whom seemed to be in the middle of — maybe — arguing with one another.

“How much longer am I keeping this up for?” Gojo all but whines, leaning back in the seat that he was occupying, his feet propped up on the desk as he releases an annoyed huff.

Geto chuckles, rubbing a hand over his face as he sits on the desk directly in front of Gojo, folding his legs over one another and smirking down at his best friend. Gojo sighs, blowing his bangs out of his face as he leans forward, his sunglasses slightly slipping down the bridge of his nose.

“Why? Getting bored?” Geto raises an eyebrow at Gojo, lifting his arms to cross them firmly over his chest. Gojo rolls his eyes yet again, releasing a deepened sigh that only has Geto releasing the chuckle that he had been holding in.

“I’m getting tired,” Gojo mocks a dramatic yawn, throwing his arms into the air and leaning back in his chair. Geto raises an eyebrow at the answer, curious now.

“Tired?”

“Exhausted. I don’t think you understand Suguru, she’s so desperately clingy and just — I can’t keep up with it,” Gojo explains in exasperation, rubbing his hands over his face and digging his fingers into the skin of this temples, rubbing them in slow circles.

You feel your heart crack the more that Gojo speaks — listening quietly as he lists off all of the things that he seemingly hates about you. Your eyes burn with tears, and suddenly every ounce of love that you ever felt for Gojo seep out of you in waves.

Had he felt that way about you the whole time?

“Hey, you were the one that said yes. You could’ve dropped the bet,” Geto shrugs his shoulders, an action that earns him an annoyed kick from Gojo.

“It’s 2,500 Yen. I’m not saying no to that,” Gojo reminds his friend, waving a finger in his face. Geto chuckles breathily, but pauses at an unfamiliar sound — a choked cry. His head whips around in an attempt to locate the source of the sound, feeling his heart drop to the deepest depths of his stomach at the sight of a retreating figure by the classroom's doors.

Gojo follows Geto's wandering gaze, eyebrows knitting together in confusion at the sudden change in his friend's facial expression. "Shit." Is all that Geto says before he moves to the door, peering out of it just in time to see your figure turn the farthest corner of the hallway – then vanishing.

Geto's eyes flicker to meet Gojo's as the latter leans his chin onto Geto's shoulder, staring at the spot that you had just disappeared from.

"What happened?" Gojo inquires curiously, not failing to notice the way that Geto's spine stands as stiff as cardboard. The dark-haired male swallows the lump in his throat – they were both royally fucked.

"We're fucked."

< ... >

"There, there, c'mon (Y/N), don't let this--"

"He lied to me!" You rub your hands roughly over your tear-filled eyes, feeling your chest tighten as you look away from Utahime's concerned gaze. Her eyebrows furrow together in worry, eyes silently taking you in as you curl into yourself.

She would be lying if she said that she wasn't downright pissed at what Gojo had done to you. After listening to your tearful ramble about what you heard, any and all respect that she had for her snowy-haired classmate went completely out of the window.

Not that there was much respect there in the first place.

"So how much of what he said did he actually mean?" Your voice is a broken cry, trembling in a way that has Utahime reaching out to comfortingly lace her fingers with your own.

"I don't know," she whispers in response, not knowing how to help you. You turn your head away from her, sniffing and wiping your nose with the cloth of your sleeve. "I'm sorry (Y/N)."

You shake your head, breath trembling as you grip at your knees. You screw your eyes shut, still seeing his affectionate smile behind your eyelids – you wish that you could forget it completely. You can still feel him too; you can feel his arms wrapped around you and his lips as they press affectionately to your cheek.

You begin to wonder how much effort he actually put into your dates, you begin to wonder if his affectionate touches were genuine, you begin to wonder if it was him writing his text messages out or if it was someone else entirely. Did he ever care about you?

"Hey."

You glance up at Utahime, sniffling quietly as she reaches a hand out, laying her palm against your cheek and thumbing away the stray tears that roll down your cheeks. Her heart breaks at the sight of you – but her heart also yells angrily at the idea that Gojo would toy with you for a measly 2,500 Yen.

She knew that he was an asshole – everyone did. But she didn't think he was that big of an asshole.

"How about me and you go out? I'll even text Mei Mei and Shoko," Utahime offers, smiling again at you. You sniffle, cheeks reddened by your tears. Your eyes are puffy, lashes still wet with tears that take their sweet time in dripping down your face.

"Can we stay in instead?"

Utahime nods, smiling again at you. Her arms extend, wrapping around you and tugging you into her chest, squeezing affectionately at you. You sink into her embrace, face pressed comfortably into her shoulder.

"Yeah, of course we can."

< ... >

"You're such a dick!" Utahime yells in a fit of rage, shoving her hands against Gojo's chest and glaring daggers at him as he stumbles backwards. He stares at her incredulously, eyebrows raised to a point that his forehead is wrinkled five times over.

He hadn't expected this behavior from the usually calm and collected girl – but the way that she had stormed at him screaming her head off told him that he had royally screwed up.

Over his shoulder, Geto watches knowingly. He knows that he'll likely be yelled at too, so in mental preparation, he remains completely silent, not wanting Utahime to turn her rage on him prematurely.

"What is this about?" Gojo asks genuinely, his eyes narrowed in confusion as Utahime angrily takes a step back from him, restraining herself from actively strangling him.

"What is this – so you just have no idea what you did to (Y/N)? God, you're dense!" Utahime all but screams, throwing her hands up in a fit of rage.

Gojo narrows his eyes, then they widen – shit. How the fuck did you find out?

"What do you mean?" He pauses for a moment, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. "What about (Y/N)?"

"Oh, don't act so clueless! You know exactly what I'm talking about!" Utahime jabs a finger at Gojo's chest, her eyes burning with a rage that he had genuinely never seen in her before. She takes a brave step towards him – in return, he takes a step back.

"I don't--"

"Does 2,500 Yen sound familiar to you?" Utahime raises an eyebrow at him. He deadpans, swallowing the growing lump in his throat and feeling his heart sink.

His silence tells her everything that she needs to know. She straightens, shooting a pointed glare to Geto as well – resulting in him looking anywhere but her direction, gaze flickering around wildly.

She turns her attention back to Gojo, looking him up and down with an expression of nothing but pure disgust. He winces at the glint in her eyes – God, he had really screwed up.

"You're both disgusting," Utahime spits venomously, then turning on her heel and promptly striding away from both males. Gojo turns, exchanging a worried yet remorseful glance in Geto's direction. His friend only swallows, they had both royally screwed up.

< ... >

Gojo suffered with the aftermath of you hearing his conversation – you avoided him like he had been infected with some kind of infectious disease. Any room he entered, you exited. Any time he called out your name with a polite wave, you turned your nose up and continued walking.

In a way, you pretended that he simply didn't exist – that the person waving to you or trying to interact with you was nothing but a phantom, one that you ignored as if it was the only thing that you knew how to do.

"(Y/N)! Hey, can we--"

You stride past him, shoulder knocking against his own as you exit the classroom. He stands silently at its center, lowering his hand back to his side – he had wanted to reach out for you, but something inside of him told him to simply leave you be.

And the day that he saw you happily hanging off of Nanami's arm was the day that he realized – loving someone from afar was the worst pain of all.

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moonvyx · 1 month

Text

i'm waiting for my state inspection and this mom is here with her baby and the baby is so cuuuuuuute, the noisy lil thing. and now i'm imagining single parent nanami in a similar scenario with baby yuji, and reader being the only other person in the waiting lounge.

kento gently shushes the boy in his arms, the little thing quickly growing into a ball of energy, even at only six months old. "yuji." he murmurs softly, fruitlessly pressing the baby's pacifier into his mouth. "please settle down."

yuji spits out his favorite binkie, waving his hands around as he babbles to his adopted father his woes. kento nods along with a sigh, glancing over at the only other person in the lounge. "i apologize in advance for any headaches." babies deserve their space in public, no doubt, but yuji is so loud that kento feels the need to at least warn you.

smiling warmly, you wave a hand. "don't worry. i raised a child myself for a time— i assure you, i'm used to it."

for a time? perhaps you're a foster parent; kento initially only planned to be as such for yuji himself, but the bond he formed with the pink-haired cutie quickly became too strong for kento to even entertain the idea of giving him up. "thank you for understanding."

"besides, who could possibly ever be mad at that face?" you coo, waving at an enamored baby yuji. his cheeks blush, the now bashful baby hiding his face in his father's broad chest.

"you only act shy around women." kento murmurs, brow perked as he looks down at his boy.

chuckling, you settle back into the nice armchair and open your magazine again. kento glances over at you as he swipes a comforting hand over yuji's back. feeling eyes your way, you look up to catch his gaze. he's handsome. and a good father, from the looks of it. "how old is he?"

"twenty-seven weeks."

nodding, you pick up the toy yuji carelessly throws to the ground that rolled to your feet. standing and coming to hand it over, your fingers brush kento's. "i take it he resembles his mother?"

kento wipes the toy on his shirt before giving it back to the baby. "i'm not sure. i took yuji in when he was just born; he was left in the cold with a note attached to him." all the note said was the boy's name, and that this was what was best for him. a little digging for further information only provided that the boy's two older siblings have been lost to the system, but kento is determined to eventually bring them all together again as brothers should be.

gasping softly, you take the seat beside kento. "he's been through so much, hasn't he?" you murmur softly, eyes soft as the baby stares at you with big, warm eyes.

"he has." kento mumbles, squeezing his son just a bit. "his spirits are high, despite that."

"no doubt because of you."

kento's cheeks warm. "... thank you."

silence falls, or as silent as it can be with a rambunctious baby in the room. yuji begins to whine after a point, likely hungry! kento swears lowly; he hadn't anticipated it would take this long for his car to be serviced, and that's where the baby's snacks are!

the usual routine of bouncing, tickling and kisses isn't working, and you bite your lip as you watch the struggle. a handful of years ago, you fostered a baby too and are more than familiar with this struggle. "... may i?"

kento considers it, eventually handing the boy over. perhaps you'll be able to settle him just long enough for kento to make a dash into the shop—

yuji stops crying the second he's settled in your arms, that little smile bright. returning his grin, you gently rub his tummy. "now, now... giving your papa such grief isn't very nice!"

the baby is putty in your hands, quiet and giggly and bashful as a conversation stirs between you and kento. an hour passes and yuji's fast asleep by the time kento's name is called, and you stand to walk with him to the car and carefully settle yuji in the car seat. kento straps him in, triple-checking each buckle and strap before he's satisfied enough to close the door.

"thank you for your help." kento murmurs, staring down at you and your sweet face. it's been some time since he's encountered a stranger as lovely as you.

"of course... and, if you'd like..." it's your turn to be bashful now, your eyes flicking from kento's to anywhere else. "um... i'd love to see you and yuji again sometime."

glancing at the soundly sleeping baby through the window, kento gazes back at you. "i— we would like that." his cheeks flush, and your giggle pulls the tiniest of smiles to his lips.

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moonvyx · 1 month

Text

HUSBAND!NANAMI TEXTS

Warnings : slightly suggestive at first, big font cause i’m blind, reader is gender-neutral!

Genre : mild crack, little smidge of hurt/comfort, fluff <33

Additional notes : I’ve had non-stop exams for the past like month or two, so here’s a little something cause I miss my man 💔

Tip jar!

Masterlist

Taglist : @blondeboyfriend @mrsgiovanna @sherlockscumslut @the-foreigner @thispersoniscrazy @em-3456 @angry-and-yandere

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moonvyx · 1 month

Text

i need a man like nanami kento

"You look...breathtaking." Kento murmurs against your skin. He presses soft kisses all down your neck.

You smirk, "Oh yeah? You like me all showered and fresh faced?"

Kento pulls back,.holding you at arms length. His eyes are full of adoration and love for you. He smiles that genuine smile that you adore seeing. You're convinced that this smile is for you and you alone.

"Darling, I love you in any way I can have you. I am blessed with the ability to love you. I am forever grateful that you have given me the chance to shower you in love and devotion in the way such an angel as yourself deserves."

If that doesn't melt your heart, you aren't sure what will.

With both hands, he cups your face and places a tender kiss on your lips. Then as he pulls away, he rests his forehead against yours. His thumbs continue to caress your cheeks softly.

"I am reminded each day that you...have given me this chance. I am forever thankful to have you in my life. To me, you are the most beautiful goddess I have ever been allowed to lay eyes on." He kisses you once more. "Thank you, darling, for loving me and allowing me to love you."

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moonvyx · 1 month

Text

WE'LL FIND OUR LOVE IN THE SKY

pairing: fushiguro megumi x gn!reader (no pronouns used) genre: fluff word count: 379

notes: megumi pretty boy !! this took FOREVER to write lmao, not proofread pls forgive any mistakes, title from the weeknd - love in the sky

“you’re so pretty.”

megumi furrows his eyebrows, glancing over at you. his gaze could almost be called a glare, but the deep flush that immediately spreads across his cheeks does little to intimidate you. “what are you talking about?” he scoffs.

you smile in response. megumi freezes when you reach up, brushing a stray strand of hair away from his face. it feels soft against your fingers - ink black and just short enough for it to avoid being caught in his eyes.

only illuminated by a sliver of moonlight, you smile. megumi watches as you intertwine your fingers together. hands that hold the power to summon the most dangerous of creatures are nothing but pliant in your hold.

you trace your fingertips along the callouses that litter his palms before leaning in to press a chaste kiss against his knuckles.

“you’re pretty,” you repeat.

megumi frowns. of all the words used to describe him, megumi most often agreed with average. nothing special.

he wasn’t the most powerful sorcerer. he was smart - probably smart enough to get him into a decent university - but not smart enough for him to consider it an asset. and his looks were nothing megumi cared to focus on for longer than the time it took for him to brush his hair in the morning.

but here you were - the most gorgeous person he had ever seen - calling fushiguro megumi pretty.

“pretty?” he repeats. the word almost feels foreign as it leaves his lips. “really?”

“of course.” megumi isn’t given time to think of a response before your lips brush against the junction between his neck and shoulder. his breath hitches in his throat when you shift, this time pressing another kiss against the edge of his jaw. then his cheek. and finally, you press a kiss against megumi’s lips.

you can just barely taste his mint chapstick as his lips mold against your own, unconsciously chasing after you when you pull away. you smile softly as you reach up to cup his face in your hands. megumi’s skin feels hot against your own, though you’re gracious enough not to mention it in the moment. “i love you, megumi.”

megumi playfully rolls his eyes; his lips quirk upwards into a soft smile. “i love you too.”

taglist (open! send an ask/dm to be added): @sunoooism

if you liked this fic, please consider leaving a like, comment, feedback, or rebloging !! and if you want to support me, check out my jjk masterlist <33

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moonvyx · 1 month

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i wish i hated you

Part 1

Synopsis: Five years later, since Satoru last saw you but here you were, standing in front of him doing well in life but the only problem was that you couldn't remember him.

Word Count: 3,408 words

Warning: Angst ( sorry no happy ending :(( )

Note: we can't be friends (wait for your love) was well-loved both on AO3 and Tumblr that I decided to make a part 2! title is based on ariana's song in eternal sunshine!

_____________________________________________________________

Pen clicking

Satoru sighed, placing down the documents he needed to sign before passing them to the HR department to finalize. His eyes unconsciously went to his curtain wall office. It’s been at least five years since he left that shared apartment.

People say that he looks so happy in his married life but he can't keep being happy when the look in your eyes screams desperation and misery that day it got stuck in his mind now and then.

He stopped thinking when his door opened revealing his right-hand man, Suguru Geto.

“The meeting with the Zenin company has been canceled” Geto announced, Satoru’s brow furrowed. “Is there any valid reason why they canceled the meeting?” Satoru spoke with a hint of a displeased tone.

“It’s not them who canceled the meeting, it was your father, Satoru. The Zenin are quite pleased with your father's explanation,” Geto said. That left Satoru even more confused about what was going on.

“It’s better to be important-” Geto cut him off by saying “It is important, your grandfather was rushed to the hospital this morning” Satoru’s eyes widened.

“Sorry, excuse me,” Satoru said a hundred times as soon as he arrived at the hospital and was rushing inside not caring if he bumped too many people.

He heads to the receptionist to ask where his grandfather's room is only to receive that it was on the 7th floor. Satoru cursed under his breath before thanking the receptionist and headed to an elevator.

After he pressed the 7th-floor button, he tried catching his breath before he took out his phone to see unread messages from his mom and dad, especially his wife.

His thumbs stop midway as he thinks a couple of times, Satoru just thinks he should check it later as he places his phone back in his pocket while waiting for the elevator to arrive.

The moment it opened, he wasted no time and headed out of the elevator. Satoru didn't have to ask what room his grandfather was in when he noticed a crowd of familiar people in front of the room.

“Mom! What happened?” Satoru asked after he greeted her with a hug.

“Toru, we still don't know, the doctor is still examining him” His mom explained while looking back at the door that has a window that lets them see what's going on.

Satoru tried to peek only to see the back of the doctor talking to his grandfather.

“You didn't have to rush here, Satoru,” His mom told him.

“It’s fine Mom, grandfather is important besides I had Suguru to take care of things at the company” Satoru reassured her.

At that moment, the door flung open and Satoru stood up straight and ready to face the doctor only for his eyes to widen.

Here you were, standing in front of his family like the doctor you’ve ever wanted. Satoru’s eyes directly went to your neck to see the stethoscope wrapped around your neck that he gifted to you on your birthday way back.

You still wear them…

“Are you all relatives to Mr. Gojo?” You asked with your serious face and eyed them one by one until Satoru who was looking at you with an unreadable face that you couldn't comprehend but then you were able to get some responses from the family in front of you.

Your voice softened as you delivered the news to the family, "I'm sorry to inform you, but Mr. Gojo has experienced a stroke.”

“Although Mr. Gojo has experienced a stroke, we're committed to helping him regain his ability to walk again through rehabilitation and support.” You reassured them before eyeing them all. “Are there any more questions?” You asked

“If none, you’ll be allowed to get inside” One by one all of them got inside leaving Satoru behind. He stared at you with his bewildered expression.

You turned around and walked away but Satoru wanted to stop you from walking away.

He was about to speak when he felt an arm linking to his arm, he turned his head swiftly to see his wife.

“I came here so late, good thing I saw you here,” She said with a smile.

Satoru felt like his voice was stuck but his wife continued talking. “Should we head inside?” she asked.

“Uh sure let's go inside,” Satoru said as he opened the door for his wife to get in while watching your back as you slowly disappeared from his sight.

He sighs before getting inside the room after his wife gets in.

Satoru stared at the ceiling the next day inside his office as he tried to see what was wrong with you yesterday when you couldn't recognize him.

As if you're looking at him that he doesn't matter anymore

“Satoru, here are your next schedules-” Before Geto could finish his announcement, Satoru cut him off.

“Just a second Suguru, can you try and get my grandfather’s record at the hospital?” He needed to make sure if it was really you at the hospital.

Geto stared at him with a suspicious look. “May I at least know the reason behind that?” Geto asked.

“Just trying to see the bills,” Satoru thought he did a great job there when Geto only stared at him dumbfounded.

“The bills were already covered by the company, sir,” Geto told him.

shit

“Uh, mother told me to” Satoru replied and hoped for Geto to stop asking questions. His right-hand man stared for a second before heading out and coming back with the record.

Satoru sighs in relief, opens the folder and directly goes to find the doctor's name. At last, he finally saw the name.

Neurologist assigned: Dr. [Reader’s full name], M.D

His eyes sparkled as if he finally saw the treasure in a pirate hunt. It was as if it was yesterday when you told him what kind of job you wanted.

“Mhm? What kind of doctor do I want to take?” you asked Satoru after you placed your book on the table as you finally decided to give him some attention he’s been craving ever since he voluntarily wanted to come with you to the library to study until he regretted it later when you didn't give him the attention he wanted.

“Yeah,” Satoru softly said with that curious look evident on his face.

“Neurologist” You simply answered before going back to reading.

“What do they even do?” He asked curiously.

“They're like the detectives of the brain and nervous system. They specialize in understanding and treating conditions that affect these parts of the body, like strokes, epilepsy, Parkinson's disease, and even headaches. They're the go-to experts when it comes to anything related to the brain and nerves.” You explained rapidly that it made Satoru confused.

“I didn't understand from how fast you explained to me,” Satoru said, leaving you giggling.

“Sorry, I ramble sometimes when I just get too excited or get too focused on what I'm interested in” You apologize only for Satoru to raise his brow. “So you're excited to become a neurologist?” He asked.

“Yeah, I just want to help people so they won't end up like my mom” You softly replied while looking at the page you were reading.

Satoru adores you for how much you love your mom, knowing your mom died from a stroke because she wasn't given proper care.

“I know you’ll make it there” Satoru softly spoke to you as you only smiled before staring at his eyes.

“I know”

“There you go, sir just take a break for now and we’ll resume again by tomorrow,” You told the old man.

“Thank you, young lady,” he told you as you only smiled.

Before you can go, he grabs your arm making you look at him. “I haven't mentioned this but you looked familiar dear,” He said leaving you confused.

“You might have mistaken me for someone sir, I get that all the time” You deny him.

He was about to speak when the door opened revealing a white haired guy in his business attire.

You remember him from last time when you announced to the family about the condition of Mr. Gojo.

You saw how he froze when seeing you in front of his grandfather. “Satoru! Doesn't she look familiar to you? I know I saw her somewhere” His grandfather asked him.

Satoru mentally cursed as he awkwardly laughed, “I think you mistaken her for someone Grandpa” Satoru told him.

“Huh? I may be old but I don't forget things or people!” His grandfather was frustrated.

Satoru looked at you apologetically, “I’m sorry but would you mind talking outside?” He asked.

You looked back at the old man, “Get some rest sir I’ll be outside talking to him” You told him as you walked to the door and were about to open it when Satoru opened it for you.

You freeze on the spot before you thank him and head outside as he follows you afterward.

“Is there anything you would like to talk about?” You asked after he closed the door.

It was just the two of you in the hallway. Satoru stayed silent before speaking. “How is the condition of my grandfather?” he asked.

“He’s showing progress faster than those I had handled,” You answered.

“I see…” He replied, “Can I ask where you get your stethoscope?” He cursed under his breath for asking that.

You find it amusing that someone asked about your stethoscope that you’ve always been curious about where you bought it.

“I don't remember, I guess someone gave it to me?” You said while your hand held onto your stethoscope.

But that someone was me

That was what Satoru wanted to tell you but it seems you don't really remember him.

Did you get into an accident that made you lose some part of your memories?

“I see, I just felt like those were customized stethoscopes,” He said.

“I thought so too, 'cause I tried searching for this type of stethoscope but I only see those regular types of stethoscopes that every doctor has- oh wait I ramble again,” You said as you covered your mouth when you realized.

Satoru only giggled, “It’s fine if you ramble too much, it can happen” He reassured you.

“Sorry I ramble sometimes when I just get too excited or-”

“Get too focused on what you're interested in '' Satoru cut you off as you stared at him surprised and confused.

Satoru once again cursed under his breath. “It feels like you know me somehow more than I did to myself,” You said with a laugh.

And that's how Satoru finds himself clinging to his past.

A couple of weeks have passed since Satoru regularly visited his grandfather just to get to talk to you.

Satoru finds himself looking forward to seeing you after his work. It becomes concerning when he has a wife and a child waiting for him at home.

After he finished signing one of the documents, he sighed looked at the clock, and saw he still had a lot of time before he headed to the hospital.

He still wonders how you lost your memories. Satoru tried not to dig into your records at the hospital when he came by your office a couple of times just to hang out.

“Suguru” he called his right-hand man who was standing behind him.

“Yes?” Geto replied. “Do you think people lose their memories from accidents?” Satoru asked.

“mostly” was his reply, Satoru was about to speak when Geto continued his words.

“But people these days head to the Brighter Days Inc. to remove someone permanently from their memories” That's where Satoru's heart drops.

“Is it something new? ‘cause it's the first time I heard that” Satoru asked.

“It's been running around five years ago”

Shit, five years ago was also when I left that apartment

“Get the car ready, Suguru” Satoru ordered as he stood up, grabbing whatever he needed.

“May I know for what reason?” Geto asked.

“I need to see the Brighter Days Inc,” Satoru replied with determination on his face.

Satoru stepped out of the car and observed the place, he would have thought this was a daycare judging by the name of the building. Who would have thought this place runs to help people remove something from their memory?

He stepped inside and was astonished by the people waiting inside the building. He guessed this place had some kind of a good reputation.

Satoru walked into the register and a lady who was on duty greeted him as he greeted her back.

“Uhm, is it possible for me to ask if you had a previous client here five years ago?” He asked.

“Sure but may I know the name you were looking for?” The lady asked.

“[Reader's name]” Satoru answered, “May I also know your name and relationship to the client? Sorry we need to know before giving it to you,” the lady said.

“Uh, Satoru Gojo I’m- I’m her boyfriend” Satoru lied as he gulped trying to calm down but the lady didn't mind as she headed back to a storage room to grab something.

He stood there, waiting for the lady to arrive.

“Here you go” the lady appeared and dropped a file before Satoru. He then grabbed the file and read the cover.

Brighter Days Inc.

Client: [Reader’s name]

Date: December 08, 20XX

The day was after his birthday…

He slowly opened the file as it revealed the documents and his eyes trailed to where you signed the paper.

You have given extensive thought behind your decision and give "Brighter Days Inc." the exclusive permission to remove this person completely from your memory.

✓ Yes ___ No

Signed by: [Reader’s name and signature]

He turned the page over and saw a bunch of pictures taken of what happened that day.

Satoru's eyes softened after seeing yourself, you looked so tired and desperate. Those tears staining your cheeks, he remembers how he usually wiped them on his own before he left kisses on your cheeks.

He then saw a picture containing the box you brought, it had all of the stuff you and Satoru cherished.

Even the scarf he left behind was burned, the only left that didn't burn was the stethoscope.

This felt like a slap to him, so he asked the lady to bring the file home.

“I’m sorry sir but you can’t take home an original copy of the document, but I recommend you to get a duplicate of this although you have to pay for it,” The lady told him. Satoru had no choice but to pay to get the duplicate version of the document.

He left Brighter Days Inc, with the duplicate copy in his hands.

The moment he came home, he was greeted by his four-year-old son. Satoru smiled as he carried him, leaving the file on the couch. Satoru was so busy playing with his son that he forgot the file making his wife see it.

After showering, Satoru left the bathroom only to see his wife sitting at the edge of the bed. “You’re still not sleeping?” Satoru spoke.

“Satoru, will you be honest with me?” That made him alert, his hands slowly stopped drying his hair. “About what?” he asked.

“Are you cheating on me?” Satoru was even more confused. “I’m not, why?”

His wife then showed him the file he got from the Brighter Days Inc,

Shit

“I recognize her, the doctor of your grandfather-” she stopped talking as she began to cry. Satoru immediately went and hugged her. “It’s not what you’re thinking baby it was just a misunderstanding” he tried reassuring her.

“Misunderstanding? Can you not see the file? It had your name written to be forgotten by the doctor.” She added. Satoru had no choice but to be honest, “She and I were together back… but that was back then I was trying to see why she couldn’t remember me”

His wife stared at him with tears streaming down her cheeks and asked a question that made him freeze, “What if she remembers you? You’ll go back to her?” Satoru tried to wipe her tears but the memory of you crying suddenly made his hand stop midway.

His wife saw it, she sighed shoving his hand away as she stood up and headed out leaving him alone.

That night, he heads to the nursery room only to see his son gone, his wife must have left and stayed somewhere with their son.

After he left the company the next day, Satoru headed to the hospital with the file. He knows he should have felt guilty for his wife but he feels more guilty about what he had done to you that you had to permanently remove him from your memories.

Your assistant greeted him as usual as if seeing him here became a daily routine. “Where is she?” Satoru asked, “She’s eating lunch and-” she looked at her wrist watch “She should be finished now, if you want you can wait inside her office” the assistant suggested.

Satoru thanked her before heading inside your office and sat down in front of your table. Satoru tried to think of a way to safely tell you about your memories with him in the past.

He was ready to give up his family for the sake of coming back to you.

But then not everything goes according to his plan. The door opened as Satoru turned around with a soft smile and was ready to speak when he noticed a man beside you.

He was flabbergasted.

“Oh, Satoru, I didn't know you’d come here,” you said casually while your arm wrapped around the arm of the man beside you.

Satoru couldn't find the strength to speak. “This is Nanami Kento, my fiancé,” You said as you encouraged Nanami to greet Satoru.

“You must be the old man’s grandfather and the current holder of the Gojo company? It's nice to meet you” Nanami said, extending his hand for a handshake.

Satoru stared at it for a second before accepting it. “Y-yeah, I am. It's also nice to see you,” he said.

He tried to think the time you two talked away a couple of weeks ago, he swore he didn't see your engagement ring on your ring finger.

“Since when did you two meet?” Satoru asked even though it would hurt him. “We met at a library called Bookshelf Haven when I was studying there I met Kento,” You said with a smile to Nanami who only smiled softly at you.

Satoru felt like the world had stopped, that bookstore was where you two always go, and where Satoru asked about your future job.

You continued talking with Nanami joining the conversation but Satoru was zoning out and was getting numb to what was happening.

You looked way happier now…

“So what made you come here?” You asked him. Satoru suddenly remembered the file he had from Brighter Days Inc., he held it thinking if he should tell you or not.

“It's nothing, I just came here to greet you” Satoru slowly said, feeling defeated.

This must have been what you experienced five years ago.

He couldn't contain seeing you smiling softly to Nanami just like what you used to do to him back then. “I should head now,” Satoru told you.

“This early?” You asked, “Yeah- I have a family waiting for me at home,” He said with a fake smile even though he doesn't have a family really waiting for him to go home.

“Then stay safe on your way!” You told him as he waved before heading out of your office.

He sighed after he closed the door. Staring at the ceiling with his back against the door.

But no matter how I try to

And no matter how I want to

He began to walk away, it was really what it should have been from the start. Don't cling to your past, just move on with your life.

And no matter how easy things could be if I did

As soon as he arrived at the parking lot, he crumpled the file and threw it into the nearby bin before he got inside his car and drove away from the hospital.

And no matter how guilty, I still feel saying it

I wish I hated you.

_____________________________________________________________

Tags: @mor-pheus, @ilovebattinson, @coffeeluvr96, @imaginativeghorl, @biancatomlinson, @peiceofcreamcheese, @ghostfacefricker6969, @lilithwhore, @witchayaporn, @alkanessa, @ittofu, @altyx, @roscpctals99, @whereflowerswenttodie, @rh-tg1, @creolequeen11210, @aikori6

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moonvyx · 1 month

Text

ᥫ᭡。 our last stop.

⟢ pairing: nanami x fem!reader

⟢ summary: this first year of marriage has not gone the way nanami expected at all. but maybe it’s alright. he’s with you after all. he always will be.

⟢ cw: angst, character death, takes place before/during shibuya arc, terminal illness, canon typical violence and gore

⟢ wc: 5.4k

⟢ a/n: this fic has been marinating in my drafts for a good while now and I’ve finally managed to finish it! happy reading :3 divider by @/cafekitsune

“I brought you something.”

The door to your room clicks shut softly behind your husband, a plastic bag in one hand, his blazer in the other. Your body feels heavy, weary, but you brighten at the sight of him, sitting up straighter in bed as he pulls up a chair to sit by you. He sets the bag down on the small table in front of you, mindful of the different tubes that connect to machines and bags of fluids that in turn connect to you.

“Please tell me it’s chocolate.”

Nanami chuckles as he sets down his things alongside a second bag, this one made of brown paper, sealed shut with a round sticker from his favourite bakery. “No chocolate this time, sorry. Here,” he says, peeling it open and revealing a muffin topped with chopped walnuts just for you. “Eat it while it’s still warm.”

Before he hands it to you, he peels down the paper and then delicately places it on the table so that you can break bits off and nibble at it. It’s not too sweet but it’s nutty and warm, and you hum as you break off little pieces and start to eat. It’s hard to eat a lot of things these days, but your husband always manages to find a treat that your stomach agrees with - these muffins are one of them. “What else did you bring?”

“Apples, tangerines, strawberries and plums.” He produces them from the plastic bag one by one as well as a knife and starts to cut the fruit into small, bitesize pieces for you to snack on. “How have you been feeling today?”

“Tired,” you hum, popping another morsel of muffin into your mouth. “I’ve been in and out all day. But I haven’t been sick or anything.”

“That’s good. I’ll speak to the doctor when I leave,” he murmurs as he peels an apple, a long ribbon of red curling off the piece of fruit. “See if we can get anything done about your treatment.”

“How about you? How’s work?” you ask conversationally, stifling a yawn as your eyes begin to droop. You’ve been awake since he texted to say that he would be on his way and it’s already started to take its toll on you. Simple things are no longer simple. What once came as easily as breathing, now takes a herculean effort, including keeping your eyes open for more than an hour.

He smiles, but it’s tight. “Work is work,” he tells you. “As shitty as usual.”

“What about all that business with the traitor?”

“Have you been talking to Gojo again?” he grumbles, slicing the apple thinly with a little more force than necessary.

“He came to visit yesterday,” you shrug, plucking a piece from the plate balancing on your blankets. “And before you start, I asked him to tell me what’s going on since you don’t seem to tell me anything.”

“Darling, there’s a reason for that. You don’t need to concern yourself with the jujutsu world-”

“I’m married to a man that’s part of that world, so I think you'll find that I do,” you counter easily. Even though you’re bed bound and unwell, there’s still a fire crackling inside you that can never be put out. Nanami supposes it’s his own fault for falling in love with someone who blazes so brightly.

“You need to focus on getting better.” He gets up to wash his hands in the little sink by the door, drying them on a couple of paper towels.

“I am. But you need to keep me in the loop or I’ll worry about you regardless.”

“Are you trying to guilt me?” he asks, raising his eyebrow as he sits back down again and takes your free hand in his, fiddling with the wedding band around your finger. It doesn’t quite fit as snugly as it should and the physical proof of the effects of your condition make his heart ache quietly.

“Yes, I am. So tell me everything, Ken.”

Reluctantly, he starts to talk. He tells you about the suspected mole who’s been leaking information, about how the school was infiltrated and how the students were attacked. “Something’s coming,” he says quietly once he’s finished. “I feel it in my bones.”

“Are you scared?” You sound exhausted, your words slow as you fight to keep your eyes open. Nanami stands, setting aside your half eaten snacks to pull your blanket up around your neck. He thumbs at your cheek gently, like you might shatter if he touches you any more firmly. Your skin is dull and dry, cheeks hollower than they used to be, He’ll never admit it aloud, but the answer to your question is yes - he is terrified.

The fear isn’t born from killing curses or injury or possibly losing his life, no. What Nanami fears is losing you. Seeing you like this each day, watching you slowly wither as the days grow colder, breaks his heart. The doctors simply offer him sympathetic looks when he asks about any improvements in your condition, if the treatment you’ve been receiving is working at all. He can’t bear the thought of you leaving, but it persists in his mind regardless.

But that’s his secret to keep. So he smiles, leans down, and kisses your forehead. “I’m not scared,” he lies. “It’s all part of the job. Besides, that’s what that white haired idiot is for.”

“Yay for Gojo,” you yawn and he snorts as you drift off to sleep once again, signalling that it’s time for him to head home himself.

The apartment is silent as he steps inside with a heavy sigh, flicking the light on as he eases off his shoes. His only companions are the soft thump of his socked feet along the hardwood floor and his own steady breaths. He drops his blazer on the couch and makes his way into the kitchen to fix himself a late dinner, hoping that the task of cooking will waft away some of his thoughts.

It works for a while. His knife rhythmically slices through each vegetable he traps firmly under his knuckled grip. The meat is next, becoming uniform ribbons that he tosses into a bowl to quickly marinate in a few seasonings. Hot oil pops and sizzles, creating a din in his ears and his mind quiets as he focuses on each step. He finds some semblance of comfort in familiarity, humming a little tune under his breath as he drifts from cooker to counter. The kitchen feels warmer, brighter even, as he plates up the fruits of his labour.

Nanami turns in the direction of the dining table, his mouth halfway open to speak when he catches himself and seals his lips shut.

The colour drains from the room, swirling down the kitchen sink as he sighs and shakes his head to himself, slowly taking his seat alone. His appetite has gone. It’s only through great effort that he manages to feed himself, each bite bland to him as he chews. Nanami has always been excellent in the kitchen - you always praise him every time he cooks for you. But what good is the skill and care he puts into each dish if you’re not able to share it with him?

“She’ll be home soon,” he murmurs to himself, as if speaking the words aloud will convince him. “Just wait a little while longer.”

After clearing up and quickly showering, Nanami finally crawls into bed, his eyes and limbs heavier than lead. The bed is comfortable, the way it always is - he saw to that when he insisted you buy only the best mattresses and pillows for the highest quality of sleep. The softness cradles his body, moulding to every line of his body as he stares up at nothing. But it doesn’t feel quite right. It's not as warm as he would like, not the way it is when you’re curled into his side, ghosting shapes into his ribs with your fingertips.

Though he’s exhausted, he’s unwilling to succumb to sleep yet. For when he does manage to drift off, his dreams will likely be filled with the sound of flatlining monitors and your weakening grip on his hand. In his waking life, Nanami knows that to not be the case - he knows you’re breathing deeply as you sleep in your hospital bed. But his subconscious has other ideas, manifesting his deepest fears into images that wrench his heart out of his chest and jerk him awake with a gasp after just a few hours of fitful rest.

Routine is what keeps the blond sorcerer going, the way it has since your diagnosis, and it continues to serve him over the next few days. Wake up, shower, shave, brush his teeth, eat breakfast and then head out on any missions he’s been assigned. When that’s done, he drops by a convenience store followed by the bakery on his way to visit you. He’ll sit with you until you fall asleep, run through the same questions with the doctors and then head home to eat and sleep and try to stave off the sense of impending doom rolling around his gut.

Each day is the same. Each day, there’s no change.

You’re stable, he’s coping, the sorcerers are waiting.

The clock ticks and another day is crossed off the calendar.

“Can you sit on the edge of the bed for me?” Nanami asks gently and you nod tiredly. He helps you shift so that your legs hang off the edge of the thin mattress. You waver a little as he moves tubes out of the way so that he can sit behind you, his warm, broad chest brushing against your spine, legs bracketing yours. He shuffles back a bit and reaches into the bag he brought with him, pulling out a brush.

Your hair is still damp after Nanami helped you wash it - you refuse to let the nurses bathe you, insisting that your husband be the one to do it, wanting to hold on to your last shreds of dignity. He’s always been more gentle and infinitely more comforting, helping you forget for a few moments that you’re in a hospital. For a while, you can both pretend that you’re at home and he’s helping you bathe because he likes to take care of you, not because you’re sick. You can pretend that you’re an ordinary husband and wife, two people in love, with no worries weighing down your shoulders as he shampoos your hair.

Just as delicately as he’d washed it, your husband begins to run the brush through the ends of your hair, slowly working his way up to untangle any snarls and knots. It’s gotten longer, hanging past your shoulders in thinning locks, lacking any of the lustre it held before you fell ill. And he’s tried to bring it back, the shine, the thickness, the strength in each strand. But it seems the curse eating away at your body is far greedier than he expected.

Ironic, that he would compare your sickness to a curse. It’s not the kind of curse he’s used to fighting. If it was, a quick slash at 7:3 would remove the problem. If it was, he could save you from it. If it was, then perhaps he wouldn’t feel so helpless. If it was a cursed spirit, then maybe he wouldn’t have to watch you wither away.

Shaking his head of his thoughts, he continues to brush your hair, the rhythm of each pass of the bristles calming him somewhat. “Would you like me to cut it?” he asks as he starts to work on your roots.

“Do you have scissors?”

“I’m not sure, let me have a look.” As he rifles through the bag, you hum to yourself.

“Is there any point in cutting it?”

“The ends have seen better days, so yes.”

A sad expression passes over your face that he can’t see as he tests the small pair of scissors he’s found with a couple of experimental snips. “But it’s all falling out.”

Nanami glances at the brush and frowns. Caught between the bristles are loose clumps of hair. He tugs them out, balls them up and tosses them in a nearby bin before returning to his task. “That’s no reason not to take care of it.”

“Ken, what’s the point? There probably won’t be anything left soon. You’re just wasting your time.”

“I don’t think it’s a waste of time,” he murmurs, parting your hair neatly down the middle.

“Really?” you scoff. “You can’t think of anything you’d rather be doing right now?”

He falls quiet, gathering your hair carefully down your back. He places a plastic bag in his lap to catch the hair that falls and then, he begins to cut it in a straight line. Snip, snip, snip, the sound of his scissors biting through your hair fills the silence. He brushes through it once he’s cut off the dead ends and begins to neaten up his handiwork. “There are a few things I would rather be doing right now, yes.” Your breath hitches but he continues. “I would much rather be packing your bags and taking you home with me. I would much rather cook for you at home and feed you a freshly made meal at our dining table. I would much rather bathe with you in our tub and sleep with you in our own bed. I would much rather come home to you, rather than visiting you here when my day is done.”

“If I could have it my way, you would be strong and healthy. But reality is not so kind. So yes, my darling, there are things I would rather do with you, but above all of that, I will always want to take care of you first. Wherever that may be.” With a final pass of his brush, he sets his tools down, gathers up the plastic bag and ties it off with a knot before setting that aside too.

Your shoulders tremble. Wordlessly, he wraps his arms around you and holds you close to his chest, his heart thumping strongly against your shoulder blade. He shushes you gently, rocking you from side to side. Weakened fingers cover his, colder than usual but still yours. He kisses your temple, once, twice and swallows his own sadness, for the sake of helping you through yours.

“You’ll be okay, my love,” he says softly, not completely believing the words himself but saying them anyway, hoping that maybe hearing them will soothe his own worries. “I’m here with you. No matter what happens.”

On the penultimate day of the month, Nanami has the day off, so today, he deviates from his routine a little. He visits the convenience store, the bakery and then - he goes to the florist. Upon entering the shop, the little bell above the door rings merrily, a floral, earthy scent permeating the air. It’s quiet in here, rows upon rows of flowers and greenery sitting in bright clusters that he observes carefully as he walks between the aisles.

One bouquet in particular captures his attention. It’s made up of tiny purple heliotropes that crowd together, nestled amongst full, white roses and fronds of green that tie it all together. Each flower has bloomed beautifully, the petals open and vulnerable, not yet kissed by decay. Carefully, he lifts it out of the bucket of water it sits in and runs his finger over a rose petal, silky soft against his skin. You’ll love them, he’s sure of it.

He offers a small smile to the elderly woman behind the counter as she wraps up his purchase in paper and takes his payment. “You have a good eye,” she says conversationally.

“Thank you,” Nanami says politely. “They’re for my wife.”

“Ah, how lovely! How long have you been married?”

“It’s been a little over a year,” he answers, carefully taking the bouquet from her. “Though it doesn’t feel like any time has passed at all.”

She smiles knowingly. “The years will pass you by in the blink of an eye and you’ll be old and wrinkled like me before you know it. You’re young. Savour it.” Nanami is about to quip back that he’s not young at all, that he’s a fully fledged adult, but he holds his tongue and nods, bidding her goodbye.

When he arrives at the hospital and approaches your room, there’s a nurse leaving it. He nods in greeting and she smiles. “She’s been talking about you all day.”

Nanami’s chest warms a little as he enters your room. You’re sitting up in bed, sunlight streaming in through the windows and casting a golden halo around you that makes you appear angelic. Your face brightens as he approaches, a happy smile lighting up your features and his heart does a little flip.

“Ken! You’re here!” you crow. Even though you still look tired, you appear to be full of energy today. He can’t help himself, chuckling softly as he leans in to kiss your lips. You cradle his face in your hands, keeping him from parting from you too soon. Your lips are dry and slightly chapped, the bitter taste of medicine echoing on your tongue but he doesn’t mind, happy to indulge in your kisses for a little while longer. “You’re full of energy today. What on earth have they been feeding you?” he asks, amused.

“Nothing special,” you shrug, settling back against your pillows as he takes his usual seat. You hear a rustle and peek at his hand. “Are those flowers?”

“They are,” he nods, offering you the bouquet. You gasp softly as he shows you the blossoms he bought for you, the colours vivid and alive against the brown paper they’re nestled in.

“For me?”

He rolls his eyes good naturedly. “No, for the little old lady next door.” You pout and he pinches your cheek lightly. “Who else would I buy them for?”

“I don’t know, you do have an affinity for little old ladies,” you giggle, raising them to your nose to inhale their fragrance.

“Then does that make you a little old lady too?” You glare at him playfully and he stands, holding his hand out to you for the flowers. “Let me put them in the vase.”

As he rolls up his sleeves and busies himself with changing out the dead flowers for the fresh ones, a grunt sounds behind him, accompanied by the shuffle of slippered footsteps and the squeak of wheels. He turns and his eyes almost bug out of his skull when he catches you trying to walk over to him, shakier than a newborn giraffe as you cling to the pole of your IV. You’re only a couple of steps away, but he still quickly strides towards you when you wobble precariously, wrapping one arm around your waist and steadying you with the other.

“Whoops, guess my legs aren’t what they should be,” you laugh sheepishly as he holds you upright.

“If you wanted to get out of bed, you should’ve asked me,” he scolds lightly.

“I know, I just-” you frown slightly and glance at the window, at the sun that’s beginning to descend and burn the horizon. “-I wanted to watch the sunset. I can’t see it from my bed and it’s been raining for the past few days and…”

Nanami relaxes and leads you over to the window, helping you into the chair there. He keeps a loose arm around your shoulders, letting you huddle into his side for warmth. Neither of you utter a word as you watch the sun dip lower and lower, draining the sky of candyfloss pinks, smouldering oranges and clear blues. It’s so serene, watching the city plunge slowly into darkness before artificial lights flicker on to keep the world awake.

“Kento?”

“Hm?”

“I love you,” you tell him quietly, covering his hand with yours. “I’m so lucky to have someone like you by my side. Thank you for taking care of me.”

“Is that not what marriage is?” he murmurs, dropping a kiss into your hair. You look up at him and smile.

“Yeah. Yeah it is.”

“When you’re better, let’s go somewhere.” You look up at him, brows drawn together.

“Where do you have in mind?”.

“Somewhere warm and relaxing. Far from here.”

“Like a beach?”

“Mm. In a country we’ve never seen before.”

You sigh and rest your cheek on his stomach. “There’s so many places to choose from, Ken. Where would we even start?”

“How about the place we were supposed to go to on our honeymoon?”

The plans you’d had back then had fallen through because of appointments and tests with various doctors. As such, the two of you had agreed not to spend your first week as a married couple abroad, choosing instead to go to an onsen in Oita for a few days.

“Kuantan,” you murmur with a small smile. “I bet the sunsets there are even more beautiful than this one.”

⋆｡‧˚ʚ ❀ ɞ˚‧｡⋆

On the night of Halloween, Nanami is calm.

Frustration does him no favours in the face of such an incident. Frustration is foggy and skews judgement, which is something he can’t afford, especially not right now, when he finds Ijichi prone on the floor, with blood bubbling from a wound in his back. It’s hard though, not to feel that way. Ijichi’s blazer is soaked with it, crimson dripping in fat droplets onto the concrete. A flash of grief strikes through Nanami like hot iron, a face from his youth appearing in his mind's eye as he hoists the unconscious man onto his back, setting out on the streets of Shibuya to find a safe place to deposit him. It’s a miracle that his heart still beats, albeit weakly, though he can’t be sure how long that will last - if he’ll join the ranks of the other supervisors they’ve lost tonight.

As he gently puts Ijichi down, his phone vibrates in his pocket. His brow furrows in confusion - that shouldn’t be possible within a veil. He surmises that there must be a weakness in the curtain around here and somehow, whoever is calling him has managed to get through. Taking his phone out, he glances at the contact name before answering - it’s the hospital. There’s a harsh crackling noise that makes him wince as he puts it against his ear.

“‘rom…. -pital.. -speak wi-.... Na… -mi.” He strains his ears, trying to decipher the snatches of broken words.

“Yes, this is Nanami speaking,” he says slowly when the static dies down. There’s more crackling and popping as a distorted voice warbles through the speaker in answer. “Is everything alright?”

“...-organ… fail…- ‘erything… -can… Go-… perf… -gery.”

The line goes dead.

A crash sounds nearby.

Nanami takes a shaky breath as his brain fills in the gaps. His heart aches like it’s being squeezed in a tight fist, until blood leaks over the fingers of whichever sick being chose this for you. Dread rolls through his stomach, his phone clutched tightly in his hand.

He has two options here. He can abandon his fellow sorcerers to go and be with you, or he can help them win this fight more quickly and then go to you. If he delays going to the hospital, he won’t know what condition you’re in until this fight is over. But abandoning the other sorcerers means abandoning the students too, and that doesn’t sit right in his chest either. Logically, even if he were to go to you, what help could he offer? What use would he be just sitting around and waiting whilst you’re undergoing, what he deduced to be, surgery? That’s what you’d say to him, at least. ‘You’re not a doctor Ken, just let them do their job and you do yours.’

His job. What a fucking job it is, he thinks, staring at the drying blood that clings to his palms. He should be with you, regardless of his job. Another crash rings out and he inhales deeply, closing his eyes for a moment and saying a silent prayer to whichever deity is listening. His jaw clenches and he adjusts his glasses. Then, he heads towards the commotion.

The quicker he ends this, the quicker he can get back to you.

⋆｡‧˚ʚ ❀ ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Half of Nanami’s body burns. It’s nothing like the superficial burns he’s sustained in the kitchen over the years. It’s different. Like there are flames and sparks continuously licking at his skin, eating away at it with the heat from a thousand suns. He can’t hear the crackle and pop of fire, though that might have more to do with the fact that he can no longer hear from his left ear. The smell of burned flesh hangs around him as he walks, acrid and unpleasant. An image flickers through his mind, of you wrinkling your nose and poking at a burnt steak in a pan, your first attempt at a date night at home. Nanami smiles crookedly despite himself, the right corner of his mouth lifting slightly.

It hurts. Everything hurts. It hurts to breathe and it hurts to blink. Moving hurts but he continues on anyway. Thinking of you hurts the most. But at the same time, thinking of you soothes him. Holding the image of your pretty face in his mind’s eye like he’s cradling a picture frame, helps the physical pain lessen. But the aching in his heart is constant as it beats tiredly.

Distantly, he hears the sound of a telephone ringing, the shrill sound bouncing off the walls of the corridor. It’s echoed by a vibration in his trouser pocket. Nanami pauses at the top of the stairs that lead down into the station, reaching for his phone with his unblemished hand, answering it without checking the contact name - he can make a fairly good guess as to who is on the other end.

“Hello?” he murmurs.

This time, the line is clear. “Nanami-san? Are you able to come to the hospital? We need to speak with you. It’s urgent.”

“I can’t, he sighs.

“But-”

“It’s alright,” he says quietly. “Tell me.”

There’s a stretch of silence on the other end. “We did everything we could but her body was so weak and-” They take a steadying breath. “Your wife didn’t make it through surgery. We’re sorry for your-”

Beeeep.

Malaysia.

His phone clatters to the ground, right there at the top of the stairs as he begins his descent.

You wanted to go to the beach, didn’t you? Somewhere warm and relaxing. Where water laps at your feet and the air feels like the kiss of a lover.

Each step he takes echoes throughout the station, his Oxfords tapping loudly against linoleum. Something wet drips down his right cheek, clouding his vision. He continues on blindly.

Perhaps if you really like it, the two of you could move there. That would be nice. He could build a house for you by the beach and the two of you could spend each day soaking up the sun and cooling down in the water. He could finally get through the stack of books he’s accumulated. Maybe you could read them together.

His remaining eye blinks and he can see a swarm of disfigured humans. The grip on his blunt blade tightens a little.

You’ll take his hand in yours. You always do. Maybe tug him down the shore with a giggle, the sea breeze combing through your hair and ruffling your summer dress. He’d follow. He always does. A smile on his face as he leads you in a crude dance.

Muscle memory guides his movements. One, two, three, four. He cuts through the warped beings that press in on him from all sides.

Sea water soaks his trousers and the hem of your dress. He’s breathless with joy and you sparkle brighter than the sun. He pulls you in, presses you against his chest and sways gently with you.

Blood splatters his already ruined trousers, mingling with his own and matting his hair. It drips down his chest and his hands are slick with the stuff, causing his hold on his cursed tool to waver.

The water is warm and your lips are even warmer as he dips you down to kiss you. The sun burns at his back as it starts to set and you smile, your skin kissed by gold as you look past him at the sunset.

“Kento,” you whisper sweetly, reaching up to wipe at his cheeks. Your palm settles over his heart. “Don’t cry, my love. I’m right here.”

“You’re here?”

“I’ve been here the whole time.” That grating, thin voice that belongs to Mahito replies smugly. “What do you say, old friend? Shall we chat?”

Old friend? Nanami blinks and your image melts away. He’s still in Shibuya, staring down at blood stained linoleum. A pair of shoes enters his line of vision, a different ghost replacing yours. One that’s a little more blurred around the edges, the memory of his face eroded by the sands of time - Nanami recognises Haibara all the same.

He wonders. If his reason for leaving, returning, staying was good enough, if not a little vague. He looks at his friend, waiting for something. Comfort or wisdom or something. The fuzzy image of Haibara is silent, pointing behind him expressionlessly, and Nanami turns to see Yuuji rushing into the station, a look of panic crossing his youthful features as the scene before him registers. The boy's lips tremble, shaping around his name. Despite the blood soaking his clothes and hair, Yuuji looks far younger than his fifteen years. A lost child, desperate for an adult’s guidance.

Nanami is tired. So very tired. He’s reached the end of the line. He did what he could. What should he say? What can he offer to a boy like Yuuji, burdened by far more than his shoulders should ever have to bear. To add to that would be tantamount to cursing him. He can’t do that. It’s not right.

“Kento,” comes your soft whisper. The smell of brine and jasmine is faint but it fills his nostrils. “It’s okay.”

He smiles at Yuuji. He hopes it’s reassuring. That he understands his words.

“You’ve got it from here.”

⋆｡‧˚ʚ ❀ ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Streaks of peach and tangerine weave around wisps of blossom and cotton. Something soft but grainy cradles his body, sinking into his hair and tickling the nape of his neck. His left hand is occupied, fingers filling in the gaps between his own, a thumb stroking rhythmically over his knuckles. Nanami inhales slowly, his eyes fluttering closed for a breath as the waning rays of sunshine bathe his skin in warmth. The scent of brine and jasmine is stronger here.

“We’re here.”

“I did say we’d visit Malaysia,” he says. You snort beside him and squeeze his hand. “I just didn’t expect it to be quite so soon.”

“Hey, we got here for free. I call that a win.” Nanami chuckles, his head lolling to the side so that he can look at you. You’re just as beautiful as you’ve always been, like a freshly bloomed rose, every petal perfect, soft and bright. Reaching out, he curls his fingers over your cheek, pleased to find it plump and healthy.

“It wasn’t free, darling. The cost was life.”

“Life was overrated, anyway,” you say, rolling your eyes. “Isn’t this place so much nicer?”

It’s hard to disagree when you say it like that. Perhaps everything that happened was a blessing in disguise.

“It is.”

“See?” You sit up, laughing as you pull him up with you. You point at the horizon, at the sun dipping beneath the sea. “Isn’t it perfect?”

He responds with an affirmative hum, wrapping his arm around your waist whilst your head falls onto his shoulder. Nanami kisses your temple, lingering and tender. “I’m sorry,” he says after a few moments. You shake your head and smile gently.

“Don’t be. It wasn’t your fault.”

“I could’ve chosen differently.”

“You could have,” you agree. “But then you probably wouldn’t be sitting here with me.”

“That’s true.”

“I could never blame you, my love.”

“I know.”

Even as the minutes tick by, the sun never gets any lower than it is right now. It remains as it is, the way that you and your husband remain as you were. Constant, unchanging, eternal. Blessing or curse - it’s best not to say.

⟢ taglist: @pastelle-rabbit @koenigami @gojoest @threadbaresweater

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