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nana-au · 2 days

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Best Friends Forever!

Suguru Geto ♡

MDNI

₊˚ପ⊹ Summary: You’re Suguru’s bff and roommate. You know him like the back of your hand – and he knows you the same, if not better! Some people may think you two are too close, but they just don’t understand. When you have a date planned and need help picking out your outfit, Suguru’s your guy! ...What’s this? He doesn’t want you to leave?

₊˚ପ⊹ Warnings: minor mention of blood, mention of pet death, possessiveness, jealousy, nipple play, thigh riding, fingering, making you beg, overstimulation, unprotected sex

₊˚ପ⊹ an: kicking and screaming and crying and throwing up and scratching my face I NEED HIM.

₊˚ପ⊹ wc: 2.8k

𓂃⊹ ִֶָ

BFF! Sugu who’s been by your side since before you can even remember! You grew up neighbors and when you both went off to college you got an apartment off campus together. It was only natural to be with Suguru. He was the only constant in your life – your anchor.

BFF! Sugu who is so protective of you. How could he not? You two experienced life’s firsts together. You were there when Suguru took a nasty spill off his bike. His tears were hot down his face as you stayed by his side. You used the water bottle you kept on your own bike to flush the blood off his knee, giving it a quick peck. “My mom always says a kiss makes everything better. Do you feel better Sugu?” He nods his head, wiping the snot off of his face with his t-shirt. He was there when you lost your first pet and even though you were preteens and everyone made you feel dumb being sad over a goldfish - Geto made it a point to hold a funeral in his backyard. He dug a small grave for it - picking out the perfect rock for you to write its name on to place on top of its resting place.

BFF! Sugu who makes sure you’re safe. He would never allow you to pump your own gas. He’s seen the type of guys who prowl around the gas station close to your home. He’ll make sure you get to sit pretty in the passenger seat while he fills up your car. Don’t worry about the price – he’ll take care of it. He always takes care of you.

BFF! Sugu who knows everything about you. He knows all your favorites. Favorite color, favorite season, favorite food, favorite tv show… there was nothing that you liked that he was not aware of. He knows about things you wouldn’t be caught dead telling anyone else – trusting only your best friend.

BFF! Sugu who is so so sooooo protective of you. Any guy he thought wasn’t the absolute best for you was quickly kicked to the curb. He’ll admit – sometimes the criteria was a little strict. The guy from your art class? His haircut was stupid. Shithead from your after school club? Believe him – he was a tool. Worst of all was the douche on your school’s baseball team. Suguru had quite the time getting you to see his point of view, but he didn’t dare say I told you so as you cried in his arms retelling the embarrassment of catching him cheating.

BFF! Sugu who learns to relax in college. You were a woman now – you no longer needed his constant guidance. He would genuinely smile as you talked about all the friends you were making in your major. How funny your coworkers at the concession stand job you worked every football game were. The fact you had a date with a friend of a friend – your girl friend had vouched for him. He was a good guy. Geto was glad you had people looking out for you. He couldn’t wait to meet him.

BFF! Sugu who helps you pick out the cute little outfits for your dates. You were so beautiful, that guy was truly lucky. But even his luck couldn’t match Suguru’s as you put on a little show for him – trying on every tantalizing option.

BFF! Sugu who loved watching you dress up so much he bought you more. You didn’t even need a date to have a fashion show! He just loved seeing that color on you. Oh! – And don’t even get him started on the skimpy little dresses with the ruffles. They were made for you. He couldn’t decide whether your plump butt or your squishy boobs looked better hugged by the fabric. He had to use his large hand to hide the bite he gave to his bottom lip when your cute little panties peaked through the bottom of a particularly short one. “Maybe that one is good for around the house,” he proposed.

BFF! Sugu who had to swallow his need when you begged him to rate your lingerie. “I didn’t realize you two were at that point in your relationship,” he would try to laugh off his distaste.

“I’ve told him no to sex for so long, I’ve been thinking maybe it's time…” you trailed off. You played with the hem of your dress as you stood in front of Suguru on the couch. He was sunk comfortably into the loveseat, legs spread wide and one of his muscled arms stretching across the back of the couch. The other on the arm rest. “Ok princess. Let’s see the options,” he spoke.

BFF! Sugu who couldn’t make it through the first set. The white lace left little to the imagination, a black bow adorned above your cute mound. “You trying to make me sweat?” A dark chuckle broke through his lips. “Sorry?” you asked him, not hearing him correctly. How silly you were to think that just because he was a friend that made him any less of a man. A hot blooded man at that – with eyes that glued to your nipples visible through the thin fabric. “The dresses were one thing, princess, but this? Don’t play dumb,” his dark eyes were now impossibly black. You were staring into the voids that indiscreetly roamed your body. It was entirely silly of you to now try and hide yourself from his hungry gaze.

BFF! Sugu who doesn’t let you leave. You were no match against his strong grip as he pulled you onto his lap. “You’re leavin’ me no choice,” he assured you, pushing you down hard against his thigh. You tried to push away but his hands on your waist locked you in. “No choice,” he reminded you. You swallowed thickly, realizing you were completely helpless as he began guiding your hips up and down his thigh. The rough material of your panties rubbing deliciously against your clit. “Sugu s-stop,” you begged him, all breathy and hot against his ear. “You want me to stop?” Of course! He was your best friend. You didn’t want him making you feel better than you ever thought possible by just rubbing your pussy against his leg. “But you look so cute like this,” he pouted at you, “Humping my thigh like a puppy. I’ll let go – but you better stop moving your hips,” he tutted at you. You didn’t have it in you to keep your eyes open to watch yourself continuously rut against him even after he removed his hands. It wasn’t your fault his muscled thigh felt more pleasurable than any toy you could ever buy.

Geto had plenty of girls at your school talking about their experiences with him. You spent your entire teen years hearing about his ‘magical tongue’ and ‘horse dick’. For the majority of your life you had little interest in getting to experience that part of your best friend – that was until the bastard from the baseball team. The absolute snore fest he put on for your first time was jarring. Maybe you were so used to hearing how life-changing Suguru’s hips were that you had high expectations...

No – you were not purposefully trying to get Geto to want you. He genuinely gave good advice when it came to what looked good on you. Ok so maybe you were pushing your luck with the lingerie – but Suguru was always so level-headed. It was scary how quickly he caved.

It was even more frightening listening to his taunts hot in your ear, “Why aren’t you stopping?” You couldn’t stop now – but you would. Just a little longer. You’d find the strength to stop soon. “Tell me you want me, or I’m stopping this,” he threatened and your form shook. “Please don’t,” you begged him. “Don’t what?” he lifted your chin, making you look at him “Don’t s-stop t-this,” you squeaked out.

BFF! Sugu whose rumors were true. His tongue was magical. His hands flew down to your hips, helping you roll deliciously against the fabric of his sweats while his wet muscle was hot against your nipples. He used his teeth to pull down the fabric so he could taste your bare bud against his tongue. He suckled and licked your sensitive nipple causing your arousal to seep past the lace of your panties. You began to soak his sweatpants but he wasn’t gonna have you stopping anytime soon. He pulled your hips into tight circles against him, overwhelming your nub. His teeth nibbled at your nipple and you jerked up at the sudden shock. His grip was bruising and you wanted – no needed more. “Sugu.. more.. need more” you sounded so pathetic.

BFF! Sugu who was left with little choice! His princess wanted more and more she was going to get. His head kissed your entrance, barely pushing in past the tip. You mewled, nails digging into his shoulders as he teased himself into you. “You think you can take me?” he asked you and you nodded fervently. He was thick and long – even his tip felt like he was tearing you in two. You wanted to be absolutely broken. “M-more Sugu,” you begged, trying to move your hips to sink down further. He kept you still – only allowing you to move if it was him dragging you down against him. Your slick was dripping down the rest of his cock, you were completely overwhelmed by the little attention he was giving you. One of his hands moved from your hips down to your clit, rubbing slow circles – barely ghosting above it. You were clenching on his fat tip and whining embarrassingly loud. He wanted to have you crying for his cock. He clicked his tongue at you, “I’m not convinced enough you want my cock.” He looked so unaffected as you shook, “I do! I need it, Sugu,” tears fell down your cheeks as you desperately tried to convince him.

BFF! Sugu whose hips slapped against yours at a brutal pace. He had you pinned into the loveseat, head down and ass up. A creamy ring formed at the base of his unrelenting cock. Drool was seeping from your mouth and onto the couch, the only thing you could think about was the way he was pounding into that gummy spot that made you dizzy. “No one could make you feel this way,” he promised you, “this pussy was made for me.” His pace was bruising, his balls slapping against your clit. He pulled your hips up farther, making you arch your back. Everything was so noisy – the sound of you meeting his hips, the squelch of his cock pulling in and out, and his grunts each time he felt his tip kiss your cervix. Geto looooved watching you take him so well. Each time his cock disappeared inside of you, only to reappear as he roughly dragged out of you. He didn’t know if you were purposefully squeezing him each time his hips pulled back. Were you trying to keep him buried deep? “Your date won't mind if I leave my cum in you, right?” he teased you – knowing full well you wouldn’t be going anywhere after he was done with you. “Dripping out of your pussy at dinner,” you couldn’t fathom him being able to laugh right now. “What would you even tell him?” he was imagining the scene playing out in his mind, “My roommate thought I was looking a little empty. Needed to stuff me full,” His smile lazy thinking about how he was claiming you tonight. He was fucking your tight little hole deliciously, making sure you could never be satisfied by anything other than his cock. You pushed your hips into his, making sure he reached as deep as possible. “You want to cum, princess?” he picked up his pace – which you didn’t even think was possible – your tits bouncing at each thrust of his hips. You nodded, pleading for him to make you cum. “God – cum on my cock. Want t’feel you squeezin me,” the rough pad of his finger met your clit, helping your pleasure meet its peak. “I’m cumming, Sugu,” you cried out to your best friend.

BFF! Sugu who wasn’t done with you once you came. You tried to claw at his hands on your hips, begging him to slow down. The tension in your tummy snapped, cumming undone loudly around him. He paid no mind to your pleas, “You can take more. You’re a good girl, I know you can.” He didn’t ever want to leave your snug pussy. He would fuck you all day if that’s what it took for him to feel satisfied. “Give me another, baby. Cum on my cock one more time. I know you can,” he was so filthy. You never had a guy dirty talk to you the way Geto was. He was demanding and unrelenting. It was alarming how much you enjoyed the filth leaving his lips. “How could you tell me to stop when she’s gripping me so tight – pussy doesn’t want to let go of me.” he threw his head back, “”S your fault I’m pounding you like this. I couldn't let you get away with showing me that little number.” The lingerie he was referring to was on the floor below you two, ripped into pieces from when he tore it off your body. He completely pulled out of you – leaving your pussy uncomfortably empty before flipping you over and folding you in half. He placed the back of your knees on his shoulder, wasting no time pushing himself back into you. The new angle took your breath away. His heavy frame held you down as his cock was unrelenting. When you looked down you could see his length slide in and out of you, your cute little pussy lips swallowing him whole. Your arousal coated his cock – all thick and creamy. You felt like you could pass out from the sight – not thinking it was possible to be so wet. His thumb reached down to your clit, rubbing harsh circles on it. “C’mon baby. I’m addicted to the way you squeeze my cock. Let me feel you cum again. Need it, princess,” he begged. He was slowly losing all control. You were so perfect underneath him, taking him like the good girl he always knew you were. You were wrecking him. Your sounds were so cute – choking back sobs as he fucked you to another peak. You were begging for him to cum inside you. You wanted to feel him coat your walls in his sticky juice. “Gonna pump you full,” he promised you. “Gonna feel so good stuffed full with my cum.”

BFF! Sugu who can’t stand watching his semen leak out of you. You were completely fucked out – chest heaving as you laid on the couch. Geto was still holding your legs up, trying fruitlessly to push his juices back inside of you.

BFF! Sugu who needs to make sure you keep all of it. He didn’t even wait for you to regain your energy before his thick fingers are deep inside of you. “Can’t let a single drop go to waste,” he tells you. He curls his thick digits, pushing against the squishy spot that makes you see stars. “No more,” you breathlessly say. “Just one more. Need to make sure it all keeps,” you are completely overstimulated. The feelings of his fingers are heightened by your two orgasms – which only makes you come undone even faster. His fingers are lightening fast and your pussy sounds like it's made of water. It’s so loud and wet and you just can’t help yourself from cumming again. You’re thrashing against his unrelenting fingers, crying loud enough that your neighbors definitely hear. “That’s it. S’good for me,” he’s emotional watching you come undone so many times by his doing. You were his. His, his, his.

BFF! Sugu who doesn’t even have to tell you to cancel your date. You couldn’t pick your head up after he was done with you. You were staying home with him – where you belonged.

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risuola · 2 days

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▶ BOUNDARIES — the day when Suguru entered the shower with you.

contents: college!au, roommates — 1,3k words

𝙇𝙊𝙑𝙀 𝙈𝙀𝘿𝙇𝙀𝙔 | series masterlist

“Don’t freak out.”

You blame it on the water. Hot, steamy and falling right onto your head, your reaching up face and the hum of it filling your ears. A monotone murmur of drops pitter-pattering and bouncing off your exposed skin — it made you disconnect. A moment of relaxation, and it worked wonders to your body, your tensed up muscles, your clattered thoughts. It quieted you down, made your breath slower, soothed the hectic beat of your heart — effect of an unpleasant confrontation with your classmate in the morning. A girl upset and nervous, jealous and heated, took it all out on you and you couldn’t do nothing but take it. Wasn’t the first time, certainly not the last as well and over the years you grew to tolerate this sort of events as they were inevitable, they came along the very close friendship you shared with your boys. It’s fine, you always tell them and it is, in fact, fine, but the attack you endured just two hours before was oddly, unnecessarily personal and it stung.

You took it under the shower, making use of the empty apartment — both Satoru and Suguru being out for classes and practice — and just enjoying the sizzling hot water warming your skin. It was comforting, meditative almost, and nearly as soothing as a cuddle session. It felt good. So very good that when the environment changed suddenly, your heart dropped to your stomach.

“Suguru?” Your head snapped to the side, your entire body flinched in shock as the matted glass of the shower doors moved and you caught a frame twice your size entering the tight area of the stall. The sight of your roommate somewhat calmed you down. “What is happening?”

“I’m sorry sweets, I really am, but I called you, knocked, but you didn’t hear and I really need to wash up quick and run,” your friend explained, his tone more frantic than you’re used to and for few moments you watched him, frozen. He was already lathering shower gel over his body. Intense scent of skincare filled in the steamy air with a mixture of fresh seagrass and coconut, and soon you snapped out of the haze.

“Sorry, I didn’t hear,” you said dumbly, still very much confused, confirming his words and shifting a little closer to the wall, making more space for him.

It was awkward — it should be — but somehow, you felt at ease with him there. It was the very first time you saw him fully naked, and vice versa, but Suguru was a safe space and besides a heat that creeped right up your cheeks, that surely got lost in the flush you already had from the hot stream of water, you weren’t too worried. Tearing your eyes off his muscular, strong built — a sculpture carved out of the finest marble — proved itself to be the most difficult as you handed him the showerhead.

“Yeah, I noticed,” he said, already washing off the fluff and bubbles of his shower gel. “They moved the lecture for earlier, I had to cut my training short and I just couldn’t go all sweaty. I’m really sorry sweets, I’ll apologize properly later, okay?”

“It’s all fine. Good luck, Sug,” you offered him a soft smile and took the sprayer back as the man moved to exit. Before he left completely, and despite the rush he was in, he managed to spare a second to press a tender kiss to your temple.

It wouldn’t be Suguru if he didn’t make time to smother you with love.

“You’re gorgeous by the way. See ya later!” And he was gone, just like that, leaving you flushed and so very confused, in a cloud of heated condensation and empty cage of tiles.

* * *

Few hours passed until the lonely, quiet apartment filled up with the playful banter that seems to never end whenever your roommates are together — which is a lot. You were already in bed, nuzzled against the pillows and wrapped in blankets. Tired. You were so tired after that day, the few classes you had to attend to after the shower sucked the life out of you. It piled up — the tension between you and your classmate, the unannounced test from one of the subjects you don’t particularly like nor study for, the rain that caught you in the middle of your relatively short way home from the college and the absurdly microscopic amount of cheese in the absurdly overpriced cheese sandwich you bought in a rush. Should’ve taken the ham.

But the day was soon over and it’s a matter of minutes now until you’ll be able to truly rest in a safe and moderately suffocating embrace of long limbs and warm bodies. The sleeping dilemma that at first seemed to be the greatest worry about the apartment, now was your favorite aspect of it — you often find yourself longing for the late night hours, especially on days like this one. You like the everlasting amount of heat that your friends produced and even though you were often trapped or squished, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Hey,” a soft, honey-like tone reached your ears and forced you to lift up the heavy eyelids. You smiled seeing Suguru’s gorgeous features and feeling his fingers along your cheekbone. “Are you angry at me?”

“Huh? Why?” You asked, moving towards him, lifting your head just slightly to study him more. He looked troubled, worried and you couldn’t place it. What was the reason?

“For the shower situation from earlier?”

“Oh… no, god, absolutely not,” you shook your head and dropped the weight of it back onto the pillowy clouds. “I don’t care if you see me naked, don’t worry about it.”

“Either way, I bought you the chocolate you like so much.”

Chocolate.

“The diabetic bomb?”

“Yeah, that one,” the boy smiled and showed you the gift. A bar of the most divine chocolate you’ve ever eaten — expensive too — filled with sinfully decadent, luscious coconut mousse and little pieces of gooey caramel chunks. A diabetic bomb, as Suguru always mocks it, because in a scale from zero to ten, its sweetness is easily a sixteen.

Suguru ripped the package open and broke off a piece, putting it into your waiting mouth and you moaned. It was sublime, it was posh and sensual. It could easily be an aphrodisiac. A heaven, melting slowly on your tongue, spreading its glory across your very soul and you melted with it. It felt like a sin, it felt wrong and so, so right.

“You didn’t need to buy me anything, Sug,” you spoke finally, once your senses came back from the trip of pure, primal pleasure. “But I do appreciate it even though I should be the one to apologize. I didn’t hear you.”

“You know that I wouldn’t push your boundaries like that if it wasn’t so very urgent.”

“I know and also, I told you already, I don’t care about any of you seeing me naked,” you said it again, reaching your hand to brush a piece of his bangs away from his eyes. He smiled and for a moment his eyes drifted away and you kind of knew what to expect.

“Who’s naked?” Satoru’s cheerfully cocky voice cut through the gentle atmosphere like a lovable razor and you felt the bed yielding underneath his weight as he climbed on and dropped right behind you. His body pressed tightly to your backside, his arm wrapped securely around your blanket-wrapped form and he pulled you towards himself, leaning his head over your shoulder and smothering your cheek with kisses. Affectionate. Suffocating. “I heard our roomie had a bad day, huh?”

“It’s fine now,” you chuckled, reaching up and ruffling his white, short hair, messing it up even more than it already was.

“Our poor little mochi, it’s alright now,” he cooed, teasingly sweet and then, in his very usual behavior, he tried to bite your cheek but you were quicker, stuffing his open mouth with a piece of chocolate. Suguru managed to roll his eyes and left you unattended with a bar of divine candy and your gluttonous friend. “Oh my god that is good.”

Safe to say, the chocolate didn’t stand a chance against you and Satoru.

taglist: @kibananya, @r0ckst4rjk, @rixo-19, @soraya-daydreams, @hyun0200, @ilykii, @roscpctals99, @mushkasstuff, @siimp4youu, @juicedcherry, @themoreeviltwin, @stevenknightmarc, @ms5m1th

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daemontargaryenwhore · 19 hours

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GURL BYE

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2neaky · 2 days

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𝙶𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚂𝚘𝚏𝚝 𝙻𝚒𝚏𝚎🫧🌸

𝑺𝒖𝒈𝒖𝒓𝒖 𝑮𝒆𝒕𝒐 °.*ꕤ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴɴᴏɴ/ᴅʀᴀʙʙʟᴇ

-> 𝑁𝑆𝐹𝑊 | 𝑀𝐼𝑁𝑂𝑅𝑆 𝐷𝑁𝐼 — ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴs ᴏꜰ ʜᴇᴀᴅ/ʜ*ɴᴅ ᴊᴏʙ, sʟɪɢʜᴛ sᴘᴏɪʟɪɴɢ, ᴍ*ssɪᴏɴᴀʀʏ, ᴄ*ʀᴠɪx ᴋɪssɪɴɢ, ʀ*ᴅɪɴɢ + ᴍɪɴᴏʀ ꜰᴏᴏᴛ ᴘʟᴀʏ

-> Suguru Getō, your boyfriend who loves pampering you. like sending you on shopping sprees and paying for you to get your hair done. but, specifically, paying for you to get your nails and toes done every time. sometimes, you'll even let him pick the color or choose the design. Suguru loves it when your nails are done, especially when they're wrapped around his dick, jerking him off where your mouth can't reach. you still try sometimes.

or when you're cupping his balls before giving them a good squeeze. that always gets him. most importantly, he loves it when your toes are done. during missionary, while he's buried deep within you—your legs pushed back while he stares deep into your soul with those hazy eyes—he adores watching those pretty toes, ladden in charms and acrylic, curling up as his dick presses into your cervix. your eyes roll back.

when you're riding him, his hands will fall from the fat of your cheeks. as you bounce on your knees, he'll caress your feet, massaging the soles of them. he knows which points to apply the perfect amount of pressure on while whispering in your ears—"just like that, baby ... riding me so good..." it makes you clench around him, setting off a chain reaction of his dick pulsing against your tight walls. it has the both of you moaning as you messily swivel your hips, deliciously stuffed.

you've got absolutely no problem with letting Suguru pay for your nails, so long as this continues...

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nanamis-baker · 2 days

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Unexpected Blooms

Chapter 1 | Whisper of the Petals

Pairing: philosophy student Geto x art student f!reader (College AU)

Summary: A mystery blooms on your doorstep. A breathtaking bouquet of white flowers, a silent whisper of apology… but it's not for you. Delivered under the name of a man so handsome he takes your breath away, the mix-up sets your heart racing.

Fate seems determined to keep throwing you together, and soon you're caught in a whirlwind of chance encounters and undeniable chemistry. It was almost as if it was trying to bring you together.

Content: Fluff, slow burn, Reader falling for Geto (Kinda), Geto being a gentleman but also an idiot.

Status: Ongoing

Word Count: 10.6k

a/n: Big big thanks to my love @whereflowerswenttodie for putting up with me and beta-reading this. Seriously can't thank her enough!🌷

Series mlist | Next Chapter →

A frown creased your brow as you spotted a bouquet of white roses outside your apartment door. The fresh blooms whispered apologies, but the sentiment felt misplaced. There was no reason anyone would apologise to you, right?

Unlocking the door, you carried the bouquet inside, its beauty undeniable. White, velvety roses, their centres a pale blush in the fading light, stood proudly in the centre. Delicate baby's breath, like a cloud of tiny white stars, surrounded them. A few sprigs of eucalyptus peeked out from the arrangement, their fresh, invigorating scent filling the air with a clean aroma.

The flowers were surrounded with brown paper arranged in a vase, and tied at the base of the clear glass vase was a simple white ribbon, its frayed edges hinting at a vintage charm. The entire bouquet held a quiet elegance that felt at odds with the confusing message of the flowers themselves.

Whoever sent it clearly had an eye for aesthetics. You placed it on the coffee table and searched for a card. Surely, there'd be an explanation nestled among the petals, right? You looked through the delicate flowers, and finally found it! A small white card that was tucked discreetly among the flowers.

Pulling it out, you read it as your frown deepened. The message written across it felt like a riddle:

"I apologise for not being there for you enough. Forgive me, please? -Suguru Geto"

Suguru Geto? The name brushed against the edges of your memory, yet you couldn't quite grasp where you'd heard it. This stranger's apology left you bewildered.

It seemed like there was a mix-up; these flowers weren’t meant for you. So you decided to call the flower company responsible for the delivery- their contact details were printed behind the card- hoping for some clarity.

You dialled the flower company, the phone balanced between your ear and shoulder, as your fingers traced the elegant script of the note. The words were written in cursive, each letter precise and controlled. As you pondered the identity of this apologetic stranger, the line connected.

The call confirmed your suspicions. The flowers were originally meant for Suguru Geto's girlfriend, not you, but because of some mistake, they were delivered to your address. You asked them how to return the flowers, but unfortunately, the company policy prevented them from retrieving the delivered flowers, leaving them in your possession.

The expensive blooms sat accusingly on the table- You had to return then, right? You politely requested Geto's contact information to return them, but their policy prohibited sharing customer details.

Their policy - or lack thereof - felt absurd. First, they deliver the flowers to the wrong address, then leave you holding the beautiful (and expensive) bouquet?

You were about to hang up, feeling disappointed when the person on the other end inquired about your university. You raised an eyebrow at the question. Apparently, this company provides exclusive student discounts to the students of your university, and Suguru Geto also used it for these flowers.

So he was a student at your university.

Disconnecting the call, you decided to take matters into your own hands. You opened Instagram and typed the name into the search bar. A quick search yielded several profiles, and the third one seemed to hold the key as your college name was in the bio. Though the profile was private, a sliver of hope remained. You crafted a message and sent it off:

"Hey! I received some flowers with your name as the sender - I think they were meant for someone else. Please let me know if we can meet so I can return them!"

Without waiting for a reply, you kept your phone aside, your eyes lingering on the growing pile of dishes in the sink. With a sigh, you decided to tackle the growing problem.

The sound of water running and the rhythmic clinking of dishes filled the air as you cleaned them.

Minutes ticked by, measured by the steady rhythm of your cleaning and the nervous flutter in your stomach. Just as you were about to rinse the last plate, your phone vibrated on the counter, a welcome interruption.

A message. It was from Geto. Relief washed over you, quickly followed by a jolt of anticipation. After drying your hands hastily on a dish towel, you grabbed your phone. The message itself was short and to the point:

"Hi. Yes, those flowers were meant for my girlfriend. We can meet here if it’s okay with you."

A small map icon accompanied the text, and you recognised the cafe he was referring to instantly. It was a cosy little place a few blocks from your apartment, with mismatched furniture and a perpetually overflowing basket of croissants and muffins - a familiar and safe space.

A smile tugged at the corner of your lips. Yeah, you were okay with the place. You typed a quick reply, sending it off with a silent hope.

Moments later, your phone buzzed again. This time, it was a confirmation. You were meeting Suguru Geto.

And here you were, seated across from Suguru Geto at a small, round table bathed in the warm glow of a nearby lamp.

He was, undeniably, handsome. But it wasn't a flashy, in-your-face kind of handsomeness. It was subtle, a carefully curated blend of features that somehow managed to be both sharp and approachable. His hair, raven black, was pulled back in a messy bun, a few strands escaping to curl around his forehead.

A pair of wire-rimmed glasses perched on his nose, framing eyes the colour of polished obsidian. They were intelligent eyes, you noted, with a hint of something deeper lurking beneath the surface. He wore a simple outfit – a crisp white button-down shirt peeked out from under a light grey sweater, the sleeves pushed up slightly, revealing strong forearms, marked by a network of bluish-purple veins that ran up like delicate maps.

"I would like to apologise for the flowers," Geto began after the two of you had exchanged some pleasantries. His voice was kind. "I hope they didn't cause you any trouble." A hint of nervousness flickered in his dark eyes.

"Flowers can't cause trouble," you said, a playful lilt in your voice, "but it seems as if apologies are becoming a habit for you." He had apologised on the note accompanying the flowers, he had apologised when you saw him at the cafe first- for causing you the trouble of coming all the way here - and now he was apologising again.

Geto's cheeks flushed a delicate pink, spreading upwards to touch the tips of his ears. His hand flew up to rub the back of his neck, a gesture that seemed endearingly awkward.

"Ah, right. My girlfriend... Well, she was upset that I haven't been around much lately. The flowers were supposed to be an apology, but..." He trailed off, his gaze dropping to the table for a moment. "Things didn't work out. We broke up this morning, actually." He gestured towards the bouquet with a wry smile. "So, these are a bit… redundant now."

A pang of sympathy stabbed at you, but you masked it with a playful shrug. The scent of freshly brewed coffee filled the air as a bustling group entered the cafe, momentarily distracting you.

"Actually," Geto started, bringing your attention back, then hesitated. He leaned forward slightly, the proximity sending shivers down your spine. His voice dropped to a low murmur as he said, "You should keep them. Consider them an apology for the trouble?" His dark eyes held yours for a moment, a flicker of something unreadable passing through them before he quickly looked away.

There you sat, as a stranger offered you flowers that were meant for his girlfriend, while simultaneously detailing his recent heartbreak. It was undeniably weird, but a strange curiosity gnawed at you. What kind of dynamic existed between him and his ex?

As if sensing your unspoken question, Geto spoke up, his voice tinged with a hint of defensiveness. "We weren't together for long, just a couple of months," he explained. "My best friend... well, he's been struggling with health issues lately. I had to be there for him, you see. But my girlfriend took it the wrong way – felt like I was avoiding her. I tried to explain, but..." his voice trailed off, a flicker of frustration crossing his features, as his brows furrowed slightly.

He seemed to catch himself, a touch of self-consciousness creeping into his tone as he looked at you. "I apologise for unloading all this. You probably don't want to hear a stranger rant about his breakup."

"No, no, it's alright," you interjected quickly, wanting to ease the tension that had settled between you. Just then, the waiter approached your table, balancing two steaming cups of coffee- your cappuccino and his espresso- the arrival provided a welcome interruption.

A comfortable silence settled between you as you both reached for your drinks. You stole a glance at Geto as you lifted your coffee mug to your lips.

There was an aura of composure about him, a quiet confidence that drew you in. He sat with his back straight, his gaze fixed on his cup. Perhaps it was the way he held himself, or the faint hint of a smile playing on his lips, but he seemed completely at ease, radiating a sense of being ‘collected’.

Curiosity tugged at you, battling with the comfortable rhythm of the moment. You decided to break the silence, leaning forward slightly.

"So, what are you studying?" you asked, eager to learn more about the man sitting across from you.

Geto met your gaze, a hint of surprise flickering across his face. "I'm majoring in philosophy," he replied. "It's always fascinated me – the questions, the search for meaning..." he trailed off.

"Philosophy, huh?" you said, raising an eyebrow in question. "Interesting choice. What drew you to it?"

Geto offered a grateful smile. The conversation flowed easily from there, bouncing between his major and yours – philosophy and art, a surprising but intriguing combination. Time seemed to melt away as you delved deeper into each other's worlds, the awkward initial encounter fading into a pleasant exchange.

As he spoke, you found yourself captivated not just by his words, but by the way his eyes seemed to flicker with an unspoken curiosity, a constant need to look beyond the surface, to delve deeper.

You noted the intensity in his gaze, a spark that hinted at a mind housing complex ideas and theories. He spoke with a quiet passion, dissecting concepts and questioning assumptions in a way that both challenged and enthralled you. The more he spoke, the more you realised the philosophy major wasn't just an academic pursuit for him; it was a reflection of his very being. It was the key that unlocked his perspective on the world, a perspective that strangely resonated with your own artistic desire to peel back the layers and expose the hidden truths beneath.

You found yourself listening intently to Geto's passionate words. So, when the insistent chirping of your phone sliced through the comfortable bubble of conversation, you were startled. Glancing at the screen, you groaned. "Shoot," you muttered, scrambling to gather your things and finish your coffee- the liquid, once steaming, was almost cold now. With a sigh, you set down the cup and looked up at Geto.

Geto looked back with concern in his eyes, his dark brow furrowing slightly. "Everything alright?"

"Yeah, just… remembered I have a meeting I absolutely can't miss," you explained apologetically. "This completely slipped my mind…" It was your club meeting, and today you were supposed to propose the club budget for the upcoming semester.

Geto nodded in understanding, although there was something akin to disappointment in his eyes. He was quick to hide it before you could completely decipher it and signalled for the waiter for the check. Just as you reached for your wallet, he held up a hand. "Uh, this is on me. Consider it another apology." He flashed you a smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he handed the waiter his metallic card.

You blinked at him, torn between amusement and a touch of bewilderment. Flowers (though originally meant for someone else), coffee, and now even the bill? "Geto, you're apologising a lot," you pointed out, though a teasing smile playing on your lips.

He chuckled, "There just seems to be a lot to apologise for today," he replied, a faint blush creeping up his neck again.

His bashfulness was oddly endearing, and you couldn't help but return his smile. "Maybe save it for the next time, huh?"

Geto held your gaze for a beat longer than necessary, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his features before he chuckled softly. "Next time, huh?" he echoed, mirroring your smile.

Maybe it was wishful thinking, but you couldn't help but interpret his lingering gaze and repeated ‘next time’ as a hint of… interest, maybe? As you exchanged contact information, a warmth bloomed in your chest. Geto was undeniably intriguing, with his quiet intensity and flashes of awkwardness. Perhaps there will be a next time - a chance to get to know him better. You waved goodbye, a silent hope for a future encounter hanging in the air as you both exited the cafe and stepped into the golden glow of the late afternoon sun.

The rest of the week was a whirlwind. Assignments piled up, deadlines loomed ominously, and sleep became a luxury you barely afforded. The weekend was something you needed badly.

Finally done with your last class for the week, a sigh escaped your lips as you exited the building with Yuta. You waited for Maki to join you as you adjusted the strap of your backpack, feeling the familiar weight of your textbooks pressing down.

Yuta, his backpack slung casually over one shoulder, spotted Maki approaching in the distance. His smile faded as quickly as it appeared, and he nudged you with his elbow. "Uh-oh, looks like someone's not happy.”

You followed his gaze and couldn't help but chuckle. Maki was indeed sporting a scowl that could curdle milk.

As she approached, you noticed a glint of something akin to fury in her eyes. "What are you laughing about?" she demanded, her voice clipped.

"Nothing, nothing," you reassured her, shaking your head. "How were your classes?" you asked, hoping to distract her from the anger, but it turns out the classes were the reason for her displeasure.

Maki crossed her arms, her scowl deepening. "Don't even ask," she muttered. "That idiot professor should be thanking his lucky stars murder is illegal. The man doesn't teach – he rambles! And then expects us to decipher enough from his incoherent ramblings to do well on the assignments."

This piqued your curiosity. Maki wasn't one to get flustered easily. In fact, you'd always admired her calm demeanour, even under pressure. But this professor, whoever it was, had pushed her buttons. You opened your mouth to ask more about it, but Maki abruptly turned to Yuta, her anger seemingly forgotten.

"We're still on for today, right?" she asked, a hint of hope peeking through the remnants of her scowl.

"Absolutely," Yuta confirmed, a small smile playing on his lips.

Maki's scowl vanished completely, replaced by a playful grin. "Can't wait to crush you at bowling again, Yuta."

Honestly? You wouldn't be surprised. Maki was undoubtedly skilled, but you had a sneaking suspicion that Yuta might be throwing off his game a little – just to see that smile light up Maki's face whenever she scored. It was sweet- an unspoken dynamic that warmed your heart.

The afternoon melted away in a flurry of strikes and the sound of the bowling ball hitting the pins. Your shoulders strained with each successful strike, and the dim lighting pulsed a little brighter with each frame completed. You watched with a grin as Maki demolished her final set, securing first place with triumph. Yuta, the gracious competitor, conceded second place with a playful jab at her skills.

By the time Inumaki joined your group mid-game, the sun was dipping below the horizon, painting fiery streaks of orange and purple across the sky. Laughter and friendly banter filled the air as you exited the bowling alley, the aroma of french fries and soda pops clinging to your clothes. The four of you stood by the intersection, ready to leave for home.

"Aren't you going home?" Maki called out, noticing you lingering at the intersection.

You shook your head, "No, I was thinking of going to the library. Got an assignment due soon."

"Want some company?" Yuta offered, Inumaki nodded his agreement behind him. Appreciation warmed your chest, but you knew you needed to focus.

"Thanks, but I think I'll be alright. Shouldn't take long anyway."

Finally waving goodbye to your friends, you made your way towards the library, your backpack slung over your shoulder. The semester was about to end, and the weight of the assignments and upcoming exams pressed down on you, but you were determined to conquer those deadlines and do well in your exams.

As you crossed a familiar cafe, a fleeting thought of Geto flickered across your mind. Despite exchanging numbers, there had been no message, no follow-up. A small pang of... what was it exactly? Disappointment? Sadness…?

You shook your head as you entered the elevator, focusing on making it to the library. There was no room for distractions, not right now.

So, you pushed the thought away with a mental shove, a futile attempt to silence the unexpected flutter in your chest. The joy of spending time with your friends had evaporated, replaced by a low hum of disappointment that gnawed at your usual optimism.

Stepping out of the elevator and into the library, you were met with the comforting hush of turning pages, the smell of books and the rhythmic tick-tock of the grandfather clock. You scanned the room, heading straight for your usual table, a worn wooden sanctuary nestled in a quiet corner.

But your sanctuary was no longer yours. Sprawled across the surface were textbooks, and occupying your usual chair was a familiar face. Surprise shot through you- you were thinking about him just moments ago, and here he was, in all his glory.

Geto sat there, his hair styled in a slightly messy half-up, half-down that sent a smile tugging at your lips. His glasses perched low on his nose, and a part of you wanted to reach out and push them back up a little for him. The familiar glint in his dark eyes, a glint that held a hint of something you couldn't quite decipher, sent a wave of unexpected comfort through you. He seemed completely engrossed in his book, oblivious to your presence.

For a moment, you hesitated. You didn't want to disturb him - he seemed so peaceful, lost in the world of his book. But perhaps you were staring for a little too long because Geto looked up as if sensing your presence. Recognition flashed on his face as he raised an eyebrow, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

You smiled at him as a way of greeting. "You seem to be very comfortable in my seat," you said, a hint of amusement dancing in your voice.

His eyes met yours, a mischievous glint mirroring your own. "Your seat? I thought this was a public library," he replied, his long, slender…pretty fingers pushing his glasses up his nose with a smile as he took you in. Did you just find his hands attractive? Internally, you scolded yourself for getting flustered.

“Uh-huh, but I usually sit there,” you said, trying to sound firm, but your smile betrayed you. Seeing Geto here, unexpected as it was, eased a tension you hadn't realised you were carrying.

"Well, too bad I'm here today," he chuckled, gesturing to the seat next to him while efficiently removing some of his belongings. "But you're welcome to take this one." You shook your head in defeat, but a small smile played on your lips. Taking the offered seat, a sigh left your lips at the familiar comfort the wooden chain provided.

"What's so special about this seat, anyway?" he asked, tilting his head slightly.

"It's like my little corner," you explained, gesturing towards the window. "The view is amazing – a perfect distraction when my studies get overwhelming. Plus, with my back to the rest of the library, it's easier to ignore the world and just… focus."

The city lights shined below, a tapestry of twinkling points gradually emerging against the fading hues of orange and purple that lingered from the recently set sun. The distant hum of traffic and the occasional wail of sirens created a low hum that was strangely comforting. A sense of peace settled over you, the world outside softening into a gentle blur compared to the focused intensity in Geto's eyes as he looked out the window.

"All the reasons why I love this spot," he said with a knowing smile. Something flickered in his dark eyes as he turned to you, but it was gone before you could even name it. His voice softened as he leaned back in his chair. "Assignment due soon?" he asked.

You nodded as you reached into your bag, pulling out a stack of blank sheets and a handful of pencils. "It's for my elective," you explained. "Graphic Designing. I was just hoping to brainstorm a basic structure before diving into the project."

"And you prefer paper for it...?" Geto asked, a hint of curiosity lacing his voice as his brows furrowed, a small ‘v’ forming between his eyebrows. You couldn't blame him, most people preferred using their tablet for such things.

"I prefer planning on sheets of paper," you explained, tapping one pencil against the table in a thoughtful rhythm. "Somehow, it feels less restricting and allows the ideas to flow more freely. There's something about the immediacy of sketching, the scratch of lead on paper, that feels more personal. It's like the idea goes straight from my mind to my hand.”

Geto nodded in understanding. His expression turned thoughtful as he said, "Maybe that's why I prefer physical books over e-readers. There's a different kind of connection you form with the material, wouldn't you agree?” There was a sincerity in his voice that resonated with you, and you nodded in reply, beaming at him.

Maybe you were imagining things, but it felt as if Geto shifted a little towards you, leaning in slightly.

You took in the books in front of him- most of the titles were related to philosophy and ethics, but one particular book caught your eye. You raised an eyebrow, as you looked towards the man beside you. "Business, huh? Unexpected choice, Geto.” You teased him lightly.

Something changed in Geto's expression the moment you mentioned the business book. It became guarded - distant - a mask falling into place. "Yeah, I am expected to join my family's business- a pharmaceutical company, so I was just doing a little reading," he said, his voice clipped.

You wanted to ask more, but something in his tone told you not to do so - that he would tell you when the time was right. So, you didn't push further, instead focusing on creating a structure for your assignment

You grabbed your pencil, and in the corner of your eye, you saw Geto push his AirPods case towards you. You lifted an eyebrow, a silent question. He gave a small smile, a hint of his previous ease returning. "It's just some music," he explained, popping one of the earbuds in his ear. "Might help you concentrate."

"Thanks, Geto," you said, a genuine smile spreading across your face. You took the other earbud, a warm feeling blossoming in your chest at the unexpected gesture.

Every now and then, as you reached for a different pencil or adjusted your sheets, your elbow would brush against Geto's. The contact was brief, just a feather-light graze, yet it sent a little spark through you that you quickly dismissed as waves of concentration.

The soft touches, fleeting as they were, felt strangely intimate in the quiet library. They were a subtle reminder of the presence beside you, a grounding force that anchored you in the moment.

Soon, you found yourself completely absorbed in your design. Ideas flowed from your mind onto the paper, fueled by the calming music and the quiet hum of the library. You lost track of time, the world shrinking to just you, the paper, and the pencil in your hand. Before you knew it, you had created a framework, something that satisfied you with its potential.

You stole a glance at Geto, his brow furrowed in concentration as he took down some notes from his book. Feeling your gaze, he lifted his head, a gentle smile gracing his lips. The soft melody playing through the AirPods had faded out without you noticing, leaving a hush that descended upon the library. You could now hear the faint tick of the clock with each passing second and the distant hum of fluorescent lights.

"You done?" He asked softly, his voice barely a murmur. you nodded, afraid to break the comfortable quietness of the library.

"Can I see?" His question held a genuine curiosity that tugged at a corner of your heart. A wave of self-consciousness washed over you, your cheeks burning as you looked down at your creation. The jumbled mess of lines and shapes sprawled across the page – a chaotic storm of ideas only you could decipher... yet.

"Honestly," you blurted out, your voice barely audible, "it's a bit of a mess right now. Just a tangle of ideas only I can understand. But I promise, once it's finished, I'd love to show it to you."

The flicker of disappointment that crossed Geto's features at your refusal was quickly replaced by a spark of anticipation. His brows lifted slightly, and a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

"Sure, I would love that too," Geto said, his eyes lingering on you for a beat longer than necessary. It felt like he was searching for something – solving a puzzle you didn't understand.

Soon enough, he looked away, the playful glint in his eyes replaced by a familiar guardedness as he started packing his things. "Are you ready to leave? It's getting late," he began, but then he added, "We could stay if you have something else to do."

You shook your head, a wave of accomplishment washing over you. You could feel a satisfied smile tugging at your lips - the day had gone well. You stretched a little, "No, no, I'm done - we can leave now," you said, gathering your things. When you were done, you met Geto's gaze, facing him completely as you stood up.

A flicker of concern marred his expression as he leaned in slightly. "You got something..." His eyes narrowed, fixated on the side of your cheek. Before you could react, his fingers reached up with unexpected tenderness, brushing away something invisible. His touch was light as a feather, his thumb strangely comforting as it grazed your cheek, sending a spark dancing across your skin – a feeling entirely separate from the cool night air that drifted in through the library window.

You froze, surprised by the sudden intimacy of the gesture. It wasn't just the touch – the silence in the library, broken only by the faint ticks of the clock, and the cool night air whispering secrets through the window, all conspired to amplify the feel of his fingers on your face. A stand of his hair fluttered slightly, as his gaze was fixed on the side of your face. He seemed utterly focused, almost like he was performing a delicate operation requiring his full attention.

A warmth bloomed on your cheek, spreading like wildfire as Geto smirked, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. His thumb lingered for a beat longer than necessary, almost as if he was afraid to let go – scared this moment wouldn't come back again.

Finally, with a slow reluctance, he pulled away, glancing down at the dark smudge on his thumb. "Graphite," he said, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through you. You nodded, still a little dazed by the touch.

"Come on, it's getting late. I'll walk you home," Geto said, his voice soothing.

A mixture of surprise and a secret thrill fluttered through you. "You don't have to do that, Geto," you mumbled, as you grabbed your backpack. You were about to sling it over your shoulder, but Geto gently took it from your hand, carrying it for you.

"But I want to," he said firmly, "Unless you don't want me to – then that's a different story." He added with a playful glint in his eyes.

A small smile tugged at your lips. "I mean," you said, trying to sound casual, "I wouldn't mind having a bodyguard for a while." Your gaze, perhaps a little bolder than intended, flickered down his form. The way his loose shirt stretched hinted at the lean muscle beneath. You could tell he had a strong body, despite the baggy clothes he wore.

A throat cleared, snapping your attention back to his face. Heat rose to your cheeks as you realised you'd been caught staring. "Shall we leave now?" He asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.

You nodded, unable to meet his gaze for a moment longer. The walk home promised to be interesting, filled with unspoken words and a newfound awareness simmering between you.

You let out a sigh of relief as you pulled on a pair of comfy jeans and your favourite oversized sweater. The mountain of assignments was conquered, the exams aced (well, mostly aced), and ten glorious days of freedom stretched before you. Sure, you might have unintentionally sacrificed three of those days to blissful hibernation in bed, recovering from the mental marathon, but that was neither here nor there. Today, fueled by a renewed sense of purpose, you were determined to visit one of your favourite places – the little library tucked away about fifteen minutes from your house.

The bus ride was filled with the rhythmic rumble of the engine and the quiet murmur of fellow passengers. As you disembarked at the nearest stop, a wave of cool autumn air washed over you, washing away the warmth of the bus. The crispness hinted at the changing season, with the shadows of clouds lengthening across the sky and a gentle rumble promising a possible afternoon shower. The five-minute walk to the library was a familiar one, your feet almost on autopilot as they navigated the well-worn path.

A smile crept onto your face as the quaint building came into view. You'd stumbled upon it quite by accident one rainy afternoon, seeking refuge from the downpour. Back then, the sight of the small, unassuming structure – shrouded in the twilight and slick with rain – had caused a flicker of hesitation. Who in their right mind would just enter such a place? But then, an inexplicable pull had drawn you closer, urging you to push open the weathered wooden door.

Stepping inside that day had been one of the best decisions of your life. The library, if you could even call it that, was an explosion for the senses. The warm aroma of aged paper and leather books mingled with the earthy scent of potted plants that lined the shelves and window sills. The entire place was a symphony of wood – the floorboards creaked softly under your weight, the bookshelves stretched high towards the ceiling, and carved wooden beams crisscrossed overhead. But the most captivating feature was the large, floor-to-ceiling window that overlooked the bustling street outside.

Here's the twist: the window wasn't quite what it seemed. From the outside, it appeared opaque, a carefully crafted illusion that shielded the library's interior from prying eyes. It offered a sense of sanctuary, a hidden haven for true lovers of literature. But step inside, and the window transformed into a crystal-clear portal, offering a glimpse of the outside world while preserving the library's atmosphere.

But there was something else entirely about the place. It felt as if the library itself possessed a subtle sentience. It exuded a quiet, welcoming aura for those it deemed worthy – a gentle tug on the heartstrings, a barely-there whisper that beckoned you closer. Yet, for those who weren't meant to enter, the library remained stubbornly opaque. To them, it was just another unremarkable building on the bustling street, easily overlooked and forgotten. The library held its secrets close, revealing them only to those who held a genuine love for literature.

The real secret of the library, however, wasn't its charming ambience or clever window. Nestled amongst the shelves were rare copies of forgotten texts, first editions of literary masterpieces, and obscure volumes on a variety of topics. Here, within these walls, resided stories waiting to be rediscovered, knowledge waiting to be unearthed.

The library, you mused, operated on an unspoken trust system. Another twist about this hidden place? Everyone returned the books they borrowed, or so the whispers went. No matter how rare and valuable the books were, people always returned them.

You flashed a smile to the small, old man sitting behind the desk by the door. His hair was the colour of moonlight. Age had etched a map of wrinkles across his face, each line seeming to hold a story waiting to be told. You assumed he was the owner – a collector with a love for written words twinkling in his old, experienced eyes. Perhaps he was a custodian of knowledge, eager to share it with those who held a similar reverence.

You made your way through the different sections. Your fingers trailed across the spines of the books, each title a whispered promise of adventure, knowledge, or escape. You paused at a shelf labelled "Forgotten Tales," drawn in by the faded lettering and the air of mystery it exuded. All the titles sparked your imagination- whispering promises of something great - an escape.

One particular book with a faded green leather cover and gold filigree snagged your attention. The title and the description hinted at a fantastical world you yearned to explore. With a satisfied smile, you flipped it open, the scent of aged paper and forgotten stories filled your senses.

As you neared the end of the book, you felt a brush against your fingers. A library card, tucked snugly in the back pocket, threatened to fall out. Curiosity bubbled up, and you carefully retrieved the card, smoothing out the worn edges. Your gaze scanned down the list of previous borrowers.

Then, there it was, nestled at the bottom, the latest entry – the name of the man who occupied a significant space in your thoughts, the name that had been a part of almost all your thoughts lately.

Suguru Geto.

When you first found the bouquet with the apology card, you thought the name sounded familiar. Now, as you held the library card, you realised why. Geto's name had been a recurring presence, etched onto the library card of almost every book you'd borrowed from this place.

Intrigued and a touch bewildered, you clutched the book tighter. Surely, it couldn't be your Suguru. But the name wasn't common, and given the conversations you'd shared and the connection you felt with him, you wouldn't be surprised if this Suguru and your Suguru were the same.

You tried to imagine him reading the book, and the image flowed into your mind with startling clarity. You saw Suguru, brows furrowed in a familiar crease of concentration, his glasses perched low on his nose as he leaned into the text. Completely absorbed, his long, slender fingers would trace the words on the page, lingering on a line that particularly intrigued him before carefully turning the page. A picture of meticulousness, he might even reach for a pen, but you knew it wouldn't be to mar the book itself. Instead, he'd jot down notes on a separate sheet, preserving the book for its future readers.

Yeah, you wouldn't be surprised if this Suguru and your Suguru were the same.

You approached the desk, the book clutched in your hand. The old man looked up from his ledger. His gaze was kind, the wrinkles around his eyes crinkling further as a smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

You placed the book on the counter, the worn leather cover whispering its secrets. He asked for your name, picked up a well-inked pen and with practised ease, began inscribing your name on the library card of the book. As he finished, you couldn't help but steal a glance at the list of previous borrowers. Suguru Geto's name still held its prominent place.

The old man met your gaze, and for a fleeting moment, a knowing glint flickered in his pale eyes. It was gone as quickly as it appeared, so you almost dismissed it, attributing it to the play of light filtering through the window. Yet, a shiver danced down your spine, leaving goosebumps prickling your skin.

"Thank you," you said, your voice barely a whisper. The old man simply smiled, a hint of something deeper lurking in his expression. He handed you the book, his fingers accidentally brushing against yours- the touch cold, but not strange.

Leaving the library felt different this time. The autumn air held a sharper tang, the world outside more vibrant. A shy smile played on your lips, a secret bloom hidden amongst the vibrant tapestry of the world. This wasn't just about the book, the library, or even Suguru himself. It was about a feeling, a nascent awareness that had blossomed within you, painting the world in shades you never knew existed. The book in your arms felt like a bridge, another connection to Suguru Geto.

The post-semester break was gone, and a new semester had begun, but the usual thrill of diving into his course was muted. That didn’t mean Geto wasn’t looking forward to it- He had never been this excited about college.

Geto found himself fidgeting in his seat in the class, his mind wandering to the corner table of the cafe where he'd met you just weeks ago. The thirty minutes of conversation with you felt like a lifetime compared to the two, frustrating months he had spent with his ex-girlfriend. There was electricity in your presence, a spark, and Geto felt like a moth, drawn to it. And here he was- checking his phone every few minutes, hoping for a message.

His professor’s words faded into the background as he found himself thinking about your spot in the library, where he last met you. He had a book propped open in front of him then, but the words blurred before his eyes. How could he concentrate anyways, when you were right next to him, offering the best distraction?

There you were, sitting on the chair, brow furrowed in concentration as you drew. The rhythmic scratching of your pencil against the paper accompanied the music flowing in his ear. Your hair cascaded down one side of your face, momentarily obscuring your features.

You were completely absorbed in your work, and Geto was completely mesmerised by you- a captivating scene he couldn't tear his gaze from. He felt as if you were a world away from him, but at the same time, he felt an inexplicable closeness, as if he were witnessing something intimate- a glimpse into your soul.

He dared a few stolen glances at your drawing. The network of lines and shapes didn't quite make sense to him. But a strange sense of contentment washed over him. It was alright- he was willing to wait - wait till he understood you enough to understand those drawings - to unravel the mysteries you presented, one conversation, one shared moment at a time.

The semester break brought a flurry of messages, a stream of random thoughts and experiences. It began with you sending your finished assignment, the same one where you'd been sketching in the library. The framework that had initially puzzled him now held a glimmer of meaning.

Your designs were bold and innovative, and a surge of pride, unexpected and unfamiliar, filled him. You thanked him for his "help," but the sentiment felt misplaced. He hadn't truly helped. However, the thought of being there for you, in whatever way he could, fueled a new kind of excitement, a yearning to be a part of your world, a world that seemed to hold a secret melody waiting to be played.

The shrill bell jerked Geto from his thoughts, marking the end of the period. He shoved his books into his bag with a sigh, enduring the usual barrage of small talk from his classmates, smiling at them and trying to be polite, before making his escape. A familiar mop of white hair came into view just outside the classroom, a grin stretched wide across Satoru's face.

"Seriously, how are you already here?" Geto asked, trying to muster irritation, though he was happy at the sight of his best friend.

The blue-eyed man just shrugged. "Shoko has some extra work, so she won’t be there for lunch today," he said.

Satoru leaned in conspiratorially, his elbow finding Geto's shoulder, resting on them. "Now, tell me, Suguru. Anything exciting happened during your break besides missing your charming best friend?"

Geto couldn't help but chuckle as they made their way towards the cafeteria, the sound of chatter and occasional bursts of laughter filling their ears. The sweet aroma of the campus bakery greeted them, and Geto had to restrain Satoru before he could make his way towards the bakery. He pulled on Satoru's collar, steering him away from the bakery.

The dark-haired man pinched the bridge of his nose, a concerned sigh escaping his lips. "Hold on there, Satoru," Geto said, his voice firm. "You are not buying sweets right now- not before having a proper meal or something."

Satoru hasn’t been well for the past couple of months, which was far different from his usual boundless energy. Geto knew the culprit: Satoru's diet, which, well, consisted of desserts and sweets rather than a balanced meal plan. His best friend treated sugary treats like they were sustenance, and the lack of proper nutrients was taking its toll.

Satoru's eyes widened in mock protest, and he pouted, but a playful glint hinted at his underlying acceptance of Geto's nagging.

After making sure his best friend wouldn’t buy sweets, Geto left Satoru to get them some food, as the blue-eyed man looked for an empty table. He balanced the lunch tray in his hands as he navigated through the bustling cafeteria, spotting Satoru sitting on a corner table. Setting down his and Satoru's lunch on the table, Geto collapsed into the faded plastic seat. As he passed the sandwich to his friend, his head lifted on autopilot, his gaze drawn magnetically towards the cafeteria doors.

There you were, a burst of sunshine amidst the sea of faces. You were laughing, the sound of a melody that washed over him, light and infectious. He couldn't quite catch the joke - something the guy with the black hair or the girl with the green hair said. But it didn’t matter to him. All that mattered was you, head tilted back, the carefree joy radiating from every inch of you.

Suguru couldn't help but smile as he watched you. A lightness, a feeling he hadn't experienced in a while, bubbled up within him. Just then, a voice cut through his thoughts.

"That's her, huh?" Satoru asked, a knowing glint in his eyes.

Geto's head snapped back so fast it almost gave him whiplash. He hadn't confided in Satoru about you yet, the whirlwind of emotions still swirling within him. Satoru must have seen the shocked expression plastered on his face because he leaned back with a smirk.

"Come on, Suguru," he chuckled. "We've been friends since diapers. I don't need a crystal ball to know what's going on."

Geto flushed, realising he was indeed an open book to his best friend. "Great," he muttered, more to himself than Satoru. He was going to be teased endlessly now.

Satoru's grin widened, his dimples deepening. "Oh, and Shoko knows too, I am twenty bucks richer thanks to you. We made a little bet, you know." Satoru winked.

Geto groaned, burying his face in his hands for a dramatic beat. He wasn't hiding anything, not intentionally. He just needed some time to untangle the jumble of emotions you ignited within him. His friends, however, seemed to be a few steps ahead. Stealing a peek through his fingers, he saw you settling down at a table nearby. Relief washed over him – at least he could still admire you from a safe distance.

Across from you sat a girl with vibrant green hair, and next to you was a guy with hair the colour of faded snow, similar to Satoru's. The black-haired guy occupied the seat next to the girl. Geto watched you interact with your friends, a warmth spreading through him as you effortlessly weaved between jokes and stories. Then, you reached into your bag, pulling out something.

It was a book.

A very familiar book.

He could practically feel the worn green leather cover beneath his fingers, and smell the faint scent of aged paper, even though you were the one holding it. This specific edition, with its unique gold filigree and slightly chipped spine, was only available from one library – a place he'd stumbled upon quite by accident.

His gaze darted to Satoru, gauging his friend's reaction. Sure enough, Satoru sported a smug grin, the traitor muttering something that sounded suspiciously like "Whipped already." Geto rolled his eyes. College student, whipped? Please.

He turned his gaze back to you, but a jolt of surprise shot through him. Dark pairs of eyes stared back at him - they weren’t your eyes, though.

The girl with the green hair peeled her eyes away from Geto and turned them back to you to say something, her eyebrows raised in amusement. A frown marred your face at your friend’s words before you turned your head enough to face Geto. The frown melted into a surprised smile as your eyes met his. And then, you waved. A small wave, but a wave nonetheless.

Suguru felt his cheeks heat up, a warmth spreading from his neck to his hairline as he waved back. He might be in college, for crying out loud, but at that moment, he felt like a middle schooler again, his stomach churning with a mix of nervousness and exhilaration.

You held his gaze for a moment – or maybe it was a lifetime – before the guy with the greyish-white hair gently nudged your arm, and the four of you got up to leave.

He looked back at Satoru, whose smug grin stretched from ear to ear. "Not now, Satoru," Geto groaned, holding up a hand. "Let me process this first." He knew he wouldn't hear the end of it, but a tiny spark of hope flickered within him.

It hasn’t even been a week into the new semester, and you were already burdened with a new assignment. So, for this perplexing task, one person sprang to mind: the guy with the ebony hair and charcoal eyes. You'd texted him earlier about the assignment, and now, with a mix of anticipation and nervousness, you approached your usual corner of the library.

There he was, perched in your chair, a relaxed vibe emanating from him. A white t-shirt peeked out from under a black zip-up hoodie, paired with comfortable-looking baggy jeans. The absence of his glasses softened his features, likely replaced with a pair of contacts. He was, unsurprisingly, nose-deep in a book, completely absorbed in its world, just like you'd pictured him reading the book tucked away in your bag.

A hesitant smile tugged at your lips as you approached the table. This time, unlike your first encounter, he seemed to sense your arrival, glancing up with a smile that lit up his face and instantly ignited a warmth in your chest.

Your heart did a little skip-a-beat before your mind intervened with a voice of reason. Maybe that smile was a default setting, a friendly courtesy he extended to everyone. Yes, you two had shared conversations before, and there was a connection you had felt building. But was it enough to break through the barrier of a polite smile?

Before you could drown in such thoughts, Geto's voice cut through them. "Hey," he greeted, a smile playing on his lips. His eyes twinkled with amusement as he added, "Planning to do your assignment standing up?"

You felt a blush creep up your cheeks. "It's a little hard to sit when someone else is occupying my chair," you teased playfully, nudging him gently as you attempted to squeeze into the space beside him.

Geto chuckled, the sound warm and inviting. "I thought we talked about this whole 'your chair' thing?" he said, the smile still lingering on his face. You shook your head playfully.

Reaching into your bag, you retrieved your laptop and pencil case, the familiar weight grounding you slightly.

Geto followed your movements with his gaze. "So," he asked, leaning back slightly, "what's this assignment all about?" He seemed genuinely interested, and your heart again did that little thing.

"The assignment is to analyse two artworks through an ethical lens," you explained, laying out the details for Suguru. "We pick any two and dissect them based on moral implications, the artist's intent, and how they might affect the viewer."

It was an important assignment, worth 30 percent marks for the subject - it consisted of a report submission and a presentation. You were willing to work hard for it and complete it.

Geto nodded along, his brows furrowed in concentration. "Sounds intriguing," he murmured. Internally, a spark of excitement ignited. Maybe you could get a glimpse into Geto’s mind - see how it works.

"Actually, I had a couple of ideas in mind," you said, a hopeful note creeping into your voice. "What about 'Guernica' by Picasso and '12 Angry Men' by Sidney Lumet?" You stole a glance at Suguru, gauging his reaction. "But of course, we can discuss other options if you have any preferences." There was no sense of going with these topics if Suguru wasn’t aware of them.

Suguru surprised you. "Oh, no need," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice, "I'm familiar with both." Without further ado, the two of you dove into ‘Guernica’.

You took the lead, dissecting the painting's raw portrayal of suffering. You pointed out the distorted figures, the bleak colour palette, and how it all coalesced to evoke a sense of overwhelming despair. Geto readily agreed, analysing the artwork through a utilitarian lens. "Picasso," he observed, "forces us to confront the immense human cost of war."

"But it's not just the humans, is it?" you countered, your gaze lingering on the image of a horse in the centre, its body contorted in agony. "The way Picasso depicts the animals – the terrified horse, the dead dove – broadens the impact of war's devastation. It forces us to consider the suffering inflicted on innocent creatures caught in the crossfire."

Suguru's brows furrowed in thought. "Excellent point," he conceded, a hint of awe colouring his voice. "The horse can be interpreted in several ways – it can be viewed as a symbol of Spain itself, ravaged by war. The dove, traditionally a symbol of peace, lies lifeless, highlighting the destruction of hope brought about by conflict."

The discussion flowed easily, weaving between the artistic elements of the painting and the deeper philosophical questions it raised. The two of you explored the symbolism, the historical context, and how each element contributed to the overall message of the artwork. The more you delved into "Guernica," the more you realised it wasn't just a depiction of war; it was a powerful indictment of its inhumanity, a plea for peace, and a testament to the resilience of the human spirit.

Next, you shifted gears, tackling Sidney Lumet's "12 Angry Men." You highlighted the film's claustrophobic setting of the jury room, emphasising how it served to intensify the ethical debate and forced character development within the confined space. Suguru built upon your point, drawing a parallel between the jury room and a microcosm of societal justice. He explained how the film, through its close-ups and shifting camera angles, explored the characters' internal struggles with prejudice, reasonable doubt, and the crucial importance of open-mindedness during the deliberation process.

"Lumet's masterful use of camerawork is particularly noteworthy," You elaborated, remembering the lessons from your class. "Notice how he employs wide shots at the beginning, establishing the initial hostility and division within the jury. But as the discussion progresses, the camera zooms in on individual faces, capturing the emotional shifts and the gradual erosion of preconceived notions."

As the discussion flowed, a surprising synergy emerged between you and Suguru. Your artistic background provided a vivid understanding of the emotional core of the works, painting a picture with words that resonated deeply with Suguru's philosophical analysis. He, in turn, added depth to your interpretations, weaving a tapestry of ethical considerations that transcended the canvas and resonated with the complexities of the real world.

The afternoon melted away, fueling discussions about the artworks. Your hands brushed against Geto a few times, as you tried to point at something on the screen or as he reached for a pencil to help with your notes. Warmth crept through you every time, but you ignored the feeling, choosing to focus on your assignment.

Suguru's insights provided a fresh perspective, a new lens through which to view the artworks, and a thrill of discovery shot through you. Gazing at your notes, filled with your combined observations, a contented smile played on your lips. The satisfaction wasn't just from a job well done- you were mesmerised to see how Suguru’s mind worked, and the depth of his knowledge.

The sun dipped below the library windows, casting long shadows across the tables, filling the space in shades of peaches and amethyst. Gathering your notes and laptop, you realised how much time had flown by. "Wow," you remarked, surprised by the lateness of the hour. "This was... a lot of fun."

Suguru mirrored your smile, a hint of amusement sparkling in his dark eyes. "Why, you expected something else?" he countered, a playful lilt to his voice, but beneath it, you detected a flicker of concern. Was he worried you hadn't enjoyed yourselves?

"Of course not," you teased, returning his smile. "It’s hard to be disappointed when it comes to you" A light blush crept up his cheeks at your honesty.

He began stacking his books, a thoughtful pause settling between you. "So," he continued, casually slinging his bag over his shoulder, "how about we grab some coffee before heading back?" His voice held a hint of nervousness.

"Sure, I'd love that," you replied, a genuine smile warming your face. Suguru's smile widened in response, and then, in a move that surprised you both, he extended a hand towards you.

Your gaze flickered up to meet his, the surprise you felt mirroring in his dark eyes. It was as if his hand had acted on its own accord. But the surprise quickly melted away, replaced by a flicker of confidence – and perhaps even a spark of hope.

You accepted his gesture, your hand slipping into his. The touch sent a wave of comfort through you. His skin was warm, a stark contrast to the coolness of the library air. There was a comforting solidity to it, a silent invitation that extended beyond the confines of the assignment. For a blissful moment, you wished you could hold onto that feeling forever.

Together, you exited the library, the setting sun painting the sky in hues of orange and purple. By unspoken agreement, you found yourselves heading towards the familiar cafe where you'd first met. Suguru pulled out the chair for you and helped you settle into the chair before making his way towards his chair. After you placed the order, Suguru surprised you by bringing up the presentation format.

"You still have to work on that, right?" he inquired casually.

"Yeah," you confirmed, "but I think it'll be pretty straightforward after all our work."

"Absolutely," Suguru agreed, offering a reassuring smile. "Still, if you need help finalising it, don't hesitate to let me know." His words were laced with a genuine concern that warmed your heart. It wasn’t like he hadn’t done enough- as if he didn’t just spend his entire afternoon with you to help with your assignment.

"But Geto," you protested, "you've already done so much. The analysis itself was practically a seminar, thanks to you."

Suguru chuckled- a soft sound that sent shivers down your spine. "No worries about that," he reassured you, his dark eyes holding a sincerity that left you speechless. "Honestly, I had a great time too."

The waiter arrived with your order, setting it before the two of you, the smell of coffee and choco-chip muffin filling your nostrils. You grabbed your cup, sipping the warm liquid, when Suguru started, his cup in his hand, “I am curious,” he began, “Why didn’t you choose that book for the assignment?”

He didn’t need to elaborate further - You knew which book he was talking about. “Oh, it didn’t make sense to select that book, though I wanted to.” You took another sip of your coffee as you continued, “Honestly, I don’t think people would be familiar with the work, my professor included, and I didn’t want to risk losing marks,” you explained.

Suguru nodded in reply. Curiosity gnawed at you. “How did you find that library, Geto?”

Suguru met your gaze, and a genuine smile softened his features. "By mistake, of course," he chuckled. "I was supposed to be at a different place near the building, but I ended up wandering into the library instead; I had read the address wrong." He paused, a nostalgic glint in his eyes. "Spent hours there before I even realised it. When I finally came out, it was dark."

The memory seemed to bring him amusement, and he let out a light laugh. "What about you?" he asked, curiosity flickering in his eyes.

You recounted your own experience of that rainy evening. Suguru listened intently as you painted a picture with your words.

Soon, the coffee was gone and the muffins had disappeared, victims of your lively conversation. Suguru reached into his pocket to settle the bill, but this time you were quicker. With a playful smile, you beat him to it, placing some bills on the table before he could protest.

He chuckled, his features softening. "Looks like the roles are reversed today," he conceded, raising his hands in mock surrender, causing you to laugh.

Finally, as the two of you made your way out of the cafe, Suguru surprised you again. "I'd like to walk you home," he offered, his voice sincere. The offer was tempting - it was a chance to prolong the time spent by his side, even if it was just for a moment.

But a part of you hesitated. He'd already done so much, dedicating a significant portion of his afternoon to helping you out.

As if sensing your internal conflict, Suguru spoke again, his voice dropping to a low murmur. "I want to," he reiterated, his gaze holding a warmth that sent a shiver down your spine. "Besides, I live nearby."

A slow smile spread across your face as you gave in, not that you opposed it, to begin with. "Alright," you agreed, "Let's go."

The walk home was filled with unspoken emotions, the comfortable silence punctuated only by the rhythmic tap of your shoes against the pavement. With each step, the streetlights seemed to blur, the world shrinking to the space you shared with Suguru. Every brush of your hands, accidental or not, sent warmth coursing through you, a delicious tingle that left you breathless. His touch, when it happened, was a revelation.

Soon, too soon, you were facing the entrance of your apartment, Suguru standing beside you. You wanted to extend this moment, to make time slow down somehow. You turned to face him, to look into his eyes, hoping to see a glimmer of what you felt in his eyes too.

Before you could meet his eyes, a sudden gust of wind whipped around you, a playful villain stealing your breath and tossing your hair into a frenzy. Instinctively, you reached up to tame the strands, but Suguru's hand appeared beside yours before your fingers could graze a single lock.

Time seemed to slow as his fingers brushed your cheekbone, moving the hair and tucking it behind your ear, the warmth of his touch sending a shiver down your spine that had nothing to do with the cool night air.

But that wasn't all. His touch lingered a feather-light caress that sent goosebumps cascading across your skin. Slowly, oh so slowly, his hand travelled down the length of your hair, his fingers gently combing through the stray strand. The sensation was electric, a current that arced from the point of contact, igniting every nerve ending in its path.

His touch lingered at the ends of your hair, a whisper of a promise against your skin. Your heart hammered a frantic rhythm against your ribs, a drumbeat echoing the turmoil within you. You wanted to pull away, to retreat from the dangerous territory his touch had ignited. But a stronger force, a current far more powerful than reason, held you rooted to the spot.

You met his gaze, your breath catching in your throat. His dark eyes were pools of molten dark chocolate, swirling with unspoken emotions that mirrored your own. A hunger flickered in their depths, a hunger that both terrified and exhilarated you.

The unforgiving wind blew again, causing Suguru to blink, and the moment was gone. The hunger you saw in his eyes was no longer there, and you were questioning yourself- maybe you were imagining it. But then you saw the way his chest rose and fell, the slight flush on top of his cheeks and the way his hands were touching you.

No, it wasn’t your imagination.

Suguru carefully retracted his hand, “Here we are,” he said, his voice hoarse. He was affected as much as you were.

“Here we are,” you echoed, too lost to think of anything else.

Finally, Suguru cleared his throat, the sound breaking the spell. "Well," he began, his voice hesitant, "I guess I should…"

He trailed off, leaving the sentence unfinished. His gaze flickered to your lips for a fleeting moment, a spark of desire igniting within its depths before it was quickly extinguished.

"Yeah," you whispered, the word catching in your throat. Neither of you wanted the night to end, yet neither of you dared to suggest otherwise.

Suguru offered a ghost of a smile, a bittersweet farewell that mirrored the emotions swirling within you. "See you in college, then?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

See you in college? That’s it? Come on Suguru, say something more than that. Offer something more than that. But you didn’t say what you wanted to say, just repeated his words.

"Yeah," you replied, your voice barely audible. "See you in college."

“Please let me know whenever you start on the presentation format. I would love to help you with that - whenever that is” he said, voice still low, but it was dripping with sincerity - honesty - as if he wanted it more than you did.

You could only nod, but that was enough for him, it seemed.

With a final, lingering look, Suguru turned and walked away, his retreating figure swallowed by the darkness. As you watched him go, an ache settled in your chest.

a/n: Okay so it's here! The first chapter for my first series! Honestly this idea has been brewing in my head for over a month now and I am so glad to finally share it.

I hope you liked it, please let me know what you thought about it, feedbacks are always welcome! xo

@shiin-ye @whereflowerswenttodie @nakariabnrb

Dividers: @/benkeibear @/cafekitsune @/saradika-graphics

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sincerelyyuu · 3 days

Text

"in the end, it's still you." p3. • gojo satoru & geto suguru

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ synopsis: after you made your decision to leave your jujutsu sorcerer life behind, you find yourself longing for what once was and risking more than what you bargained for. ➼ pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader, geto suguru x fem!reader ➼ content/warnings: sfw, endless amounts of angst, sprinkles of fluff, heavy jujutsu kaisen 0 film spoilers, heartbreak, regret, unrequited love, death, blood, pet names, sorcerer!reader ➼ wc: 5.4K words ➼ a/n: this is the final part of this little angst series of mine. thank you so much to everyone for the amount of love you've given these three. as always, likes and reblogs are appreciated ♡ ➼ part one, part two, part three

Today was the day. Suguru had coined it as the Night Parade of a Hundred Demons where he intended on releasing thousands of curses across Japan, focusing the epicenters of the attack in Shinjuku and Kyoto.

To say that your life had drastically changed over the last few years would be an understatement. Finding refuge in a grand temple located far away from the eyes of Tokyo, Suguru built himself a cult following. He spent his days collecting money from his loyal followers while also exorcising curses from non-sorcerers who sought him out, deeming him as a god for his “cleansing” talents.

Within this time, your days were simpler. Instead of waking up to the dread of having to fight curse after curse, you spent your time focusing on the little things that brought you joy. You started a little garden that was lush with a variety of flowers and greenery. Thanks to the seclusion of your new home, it made stargazing look something straight out of a fantasy, the night sky always twinkling with millions of stars. With all the extra time, you had many opportunities to curl up with a good book without having to worry about another mission.

Since that fateful night in the village, Nanako and Mimiko became attached to your hip. You became the mother figure they’ve always dreamt of. You loved the girls like your own, spending the majority of your time nurturing them from toddlerhood into the beautiful teens they were now. You were living the simple life you envisioned back in your teen years.

You knew when you left your old life behind that life would be different. Change was inevitable. You just didn’t expect for it to manifest in the man you ran away with.

Suguru took care of you exceptionally well. He made sure you were well fed and gifted you with the prettiest clothes, occasionally leaving small tokens of appreciation for you for embarking on this journey with him. Whatever you heart desired, it was in your hands no sooner than you can think of it. More importantly, no matter how busy he was, he always found time to keep you company. You, as well as the twins, remained his main priority. His beautiful girls.

You watched Suguru slowly become consumed with the idea of jujutsu sorcerers being the superior race. On the outside, he put up an amiable persona in front of normal humans who came to him for guidance in order to collect their curses. On the inside, he loathed their very existence, finding their presence alone to be unbearable and swearing they filled the air surrounding him with a disgusting stench.

Monkeys, he would call them. You hated the term.

He had come to you in the kitchen one day with the biggest grin on his face. It was the happiest you’ve ever seen him in your entire time of knowing him. Pouring yourself a glass of water from the faucet, you leaned your back against the edge of the sink in interest.

“The time has finally come!” he proclaimed as he walked up to you, hands behind his head in a relaxed manner.

“Oh?” you raised an eyebrow at him in curiosity. “And what time may that be?”

“My sources tell me that there is an interesting first year student by the name of Okkotsu Yuta at Tokyo High. He is cursed by a special grade spirit by the name of Orimoto Rika,” Suguru goes on to explain.

You felt an unsettling feeling in your stomach, not liking where this conversation was going. You hummed in response and raised the glass to your lips which he took as his cue to go on.

“I plan on retrieving her. The power she holds is the exact thing we need to put an end to every non-sorcerer in existence,” he sighed happily at what he believed was the light at the end of the tunnel.

Frowning, you replied, “...And how exactly do you plan to do that, Sugu?”

“By killing anyone that gets in my way starting with Tokyo Jujutsu High.”

The glass of water immediately slipped from your hands, seconds away from shattering onto the floor if not for Suguru’s incredible reflexes. Placing the still full cup on the counter, he observed the immense shock displayed in your eyes at his declaration. You wished that he was just pulling your leg and that he wasn’t really considering taking on such a risky and incredibly dangerous task. But a man of his word, you knew better than anyone that when Suguru said anything, he truly meant it.

“Geto Suguru,” his name leaving your lips in a slow drawl, “What in the actual fuck are you talking about?”

Leaning against the counter next to you, he crossed his arms and closed his eyes in thought. “It’s simple really. I will unleash the thousands of curses that I’ve meticulously collected over this past decade into the city. Two cities, in fact. While they send their forces to try and save as many pathetic monkeys as they can, I’ll go after the Okkotsu boy. If he decides not to join our side, that’s fine. I’ll just kill him for Rika instead.”

The more you listened to him explain in detail his plan, the more you found yourself looking at a complete stranger. This couldn’t possibly be the kind Suguru that you’ve known throughout your teens and entire twenties.

Had you really known him at all?

The incredulous look of concern and flash of fear across your face must have been hard to take in because Suguru’s demeanor immediately took on a more serious stance.

“(y/n),” he started to say your name and reached for your hand. This time, it was his turn to be shocked when you immediately yanked your hand away from his as if his touch burned you.

“Don’t,” you demand, taking a step away from him as you felt your blood begin to boil. “What the hell, Suguru?”

The man sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose at your hostile reaction, “I had a feeling you’d react like this.”

You scoffed at his reply, “Did you honestly expect for me to just be peachy about this idea? You’re talking about murdering millions of people! This isn’t what I agreed to when I decided to go on the run with you.”

“I was very upfront with you about my goals. I don’t know why you’re acting like this is something new,” Suguru argued, not liking the tone of your voice. “You made the big girl decision to come with me. Don’t tell me you’re regretting it now?”

You clenched your jaw at his audacity. “You didn’t give me a choice! I’m not the one who decided to go on a murderous killing spree at seventeen on a mission we were both assigned to,” you retorted in exasperation.

“But I stayed with you because I care about you, Suguru. If I didn’t, why would I leave my entire life behind to be here with you now?” you asked, feeling the anger in your veins shift to deep hurt. “You forget that I sacrificed a lot, too. Excuse me if I don’t agree with every choice you make along the way, especially this one.”

Running his hand through his dark locks, Suguru exhaled deeply. He rarely fought with you and he hated every minute you were anything less than happy with him. He angled his body to face you once more and placed his strong hands on your shoulders. When you didn’t instantly pull away from him, he tugged you closer to him and wrapped his arms around your shoulders.

“I’m sorry. I didn't forget how much you’ve sacrificed to be with me and I’m eternally grateful every day I see your face. I know this situation hasn’t been completely fair for you and I only have myself to blame for that,” he apologized sincerely.

“That being said, I’ve made my final decision. I won’t ask you to fight on the front lines nor do I expect you to do anything you don’t want to. You can stay here without needing to get involved or lift a finger. The decision is yours.”

Back to the present, you couldn’t shake the premonition that something really bad was going to happen. Your anxiety in your heart refused to dissipate with the uncertainty of what's to come looming over you. You hated this. You hated how this is what it all came down to.

You made it clear to Suguru that you weren’t going to take any innocent lives. However, you refused to sit still and play the waiting game while everyone was out fighting for their lives. Naturally, you set your heart on protecting your girls.

“Nanako, Mimiko,” you said to your phone via video chat, “Are you girls doing okay?”

“Everything is good so far, (y/n)-sama,” Nanako replied back and adjusted her phone so that she and her sister fit into one frame. “Where are you? Geto-sama said you’d be here.”

You responded, “I’m here. Just standing out of sight but still keeping an eye on you.”

Standing atop of some miscellaneous office building, you observed the large curse that housed the twins safely inside its mouth. You focused on manipulating your cursed energy to lower it to extreme minute levels in order to hide your presence, blending it with the large amount of cursed energy permeating in the air. Doing so made it difficult to pinpoint your exact location.

“How come you aren’t here directly with us?” Mimiko questioned, feeling slightly anxious but relieved to see your face even if it was through a screen.

You paused, taking a few seconds to think before answering carefully, “It’s complicated.”

How do you exactly tell them that the reason you were hiding to begin with was because you were hiding from the man of the hour?

Gojo Satoru.

You would be lying if you said a part of you didn’t long to see him. You did everything in your power to cut all ties with the strongest sorcerer a decade ago, although it hurt more than anything. You didn’t know if you could ever face him again, especially not now considering the circumstances with Suguru’s plot.

Did he even want to see you?

A pair of sweet voices called out to you and snapped you out of your thoughts. Looking back at your phone, you saw the looks of anticipation on the twins’ faces.

“Sorry, what did you girls say?” you sheepishly asked.

Nanako pouted adorably, repeating their question, “We asked if we could go to that crepe shop on Takeshita Street with you. Geto-sama promised he’d take us last time but it was closed by the time we got there.”

Chuckling, you nodded to their request. “Of course. When this is all over, we’ll take a girls trip together.”

“Promise?” they said in unison, holding their pinkies up to the screen.

You held your own pinky up and lightly tapped it against your phone. “I promise.”

On the other end, you heard Nanako’s notification sound go off. “They said they’re stepping up the plan and telling us to engage,” she informed you.

Biting your lip in apprehension, you sighed. “Please be careful, you two. Do not hesitate to call me immediately if something happens. Do you understand? I'll catch up with you in a few.”

The pair nodded, holding up their pinkies for emphasis promising you of their safety. Just as you were about to hang up the call, their soft voices caught your ears.

“(y/n)-sama?”

“Yes, my loves?” you answered with concern in your eyes watching them fidget nervously.

“I love you.”

You felt your heart squeeze at the declaration, warmth spreading in your chest as you smiled fondly at the two. They looked at you shyly with pink cheeks looking slightly embarrassed after voicing their affection together. When did they grow up so fast from the little five year olds they once were when you first met them?

“I love you, too. Both of you. See you soon,” you reciprocated, blowing a kiss to the camera.

The twins mirrored the gesture before hanging up. Focusing your eyes back to the curse they were inside, its mouth opened to reveal your precious girls. You waved goodbye to them despite them not being able to see you. Just as you were about to trail them, that unsettling feeling increased tenfold in your stomach. Something was wrong.

Suguru.

You dialed his number on your phone, pressing it to your ear only for the call to go straight to voicemail. This only made your anxiety worse. He never missed a call from you. Wracking your brain on where he could be, his previous words echoed in your mind.

“I’ll go after the Okkotsu boy. If he decides not to join our side, that’s fine. I’ll just kill him for Rika instead.”

Cursing under your breath, your legs began moving on their own.

Run faster.

You repeated the two words in your head like a mantra as you weaved through alleyways and every shortcut you could remember. Your lungs burned with the intensity of it demanding oxygen, but you refused to slow down the pace of your sprint. You were determined to make it back to Tokyo Jujutsu High.

You had to make it to Suguru.

Scanning the black veil that you knew Suguru had casted over the school, you managed to locate a hole that was made by something, or rather someone, else. Slipping through the opening, you finally stepped foot onto the grounds that you once called your home. You hurriedly followed the trails of blood and wreckage of what looked to be the after effects of a lethal fight.

You nearly collapsed as you felt the ground quake beneath your feet, the force of it catching you off guard. The air felt electrified with the sheer amount of cursed energy surrounding you. It terrified you. Despite your fear, you steeled yourself and ran towards where you felt the cursed energy was strongest.

Careening around another corner, you were relieved to see the backside of the man you were searching for. However, your relief was short-lived when you looked just beyond his figure down the path to see a young teenage boy.

There was no mistaking him as Okkotsu Yuta with his special grade curse Rika suspended beside him protectively and looking every bit as deadly as you heard. He was exchanging words with her that you couldn’t hear from where you stood. You saw the way Yuta intimately held her monstrous frame close to his face. The interaction was so full of tenderness and devotion, the kind that would risk it all in the name of love.

But that’s when you realized what was happening. He was sacrificing himself to Rika to release the limit on her cursed energy.

Hearing Rika passionately declare her love for Yuta, you looked in horror as she began gathering all of her raw cursed energy in full force. Flashes of purple and pink coalesced into one massive deadly black orb, a symbol of Rika’s eternal love for him.

And it was aimed directly at Suguru.

“SUGURU!”

You didn’t even hear yourself scream for him, your voice coming out in terror-stricken screech. It was like your body went into overdrive. In your moment of panic, you didn’t have time to think or feel, only running towards him with your heart beating loudly in your ears.

For Suguru, it all happened so quickly.

The moment he heard your voice, he whipped his head to you with eyes widened in alarm. You weren’t supposed to be here. He needed to figure out a way to get you as far away as possible from Rika.

Time almost stopped for the next few seconds.

There was a flash and a strong hand that shoved Suguru’s body back from where he was positioned. A waft of a familiar perfume. The feeling of soft tresses tickling his cheek. A blinding blue glow. He realized too late that it was you moving at an supersonic speed to stand in front of him, safeguarding him as you channeled all of your cursed energy to brace and harden your body for impact.

Then, Rika charged.

Destruction. Suguru’s curses were no match to the power of Rika’s concentrated cursed energy beam. Her attack left devastation in its wake, buildings blown down to their bare infrastructures, dust and debris clouding the pinkened sky, and a deep crater of the battlefield permanently indented into the ground.

For a moment, all you felt was searing pain enveloping your body. You didn’t even register the way Suguru seized you by the waist, jerking you away as he made a narrow escape with you just a second away from death’s door. Your vision faded to black as you closed your eyes.

When you next opened your eyes, the first thing you saw was the back of Suguru’s head. He was carrying you on his back, your arms around his neck and your body swaying in small jerky motions as he limped down the pathway with growing difficulty.

Good. He had made it, you thought to yourself in ease.

‘Made it’ was an understatement. The man was officially missing his entire right arm, the same arm he used to safely pull you away from Rika. Long black hair haphazardly let down, black yukata torn in half to reveal his bare toned torso, right eye swollen shut. He was lucky to have gotten away with just this.

He was only this lucky because of you. You had taken Rika’s attack head on. Even with you using your cursed energy as a shield, it wasn’t enough to stop the negative repercussions. Your injuries were severe. The strength of Rika’s blow left a gaping hole in the center of your chest a hair’s away from your heart, feeling sharp pains with every shallow breath you took. You could feel yourself bleeding out onto Suguru’s back, soaking his robe with crimson. Unable to feel any sensations in your legs, you suspected you were paralyzed from the waist down.

“Suguru,” your raspy voice croaked out.

“You finally opened those eyes, pretty girl. You had me worried for a moment there,” Suguru chuckled quietly.

The two of you fell into a calm silence, only the sounds of Suguru’s footsteps and your ragged breathing to be heard. You wanted to ask him so many questions. Where did Yuta and Rika go? What happens now? No matter how hard you tried to focus on moving your mouth you simply couldn’t, not having the strength to do so. Suguru was the first to break the silence.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” he said tiredly. His haggard face looked absolutely spent with his voice coming out no louder than a murmur. Only loud enough just for you to hear the regret and guilt in his speech.

You chuckled weakly, “Can you really say you were surprised?”

Suguru sighed in defeat, “I suppose not. Although I would have preferred if you had stayed with our girls. Now look at you.”

“That’s not very ‘Thank you for saving my life’ of you, Sugu,” you huffed, gently pinching his cheek in retaliation causing him to laugh lightly.

You felt your heart swell seeing Suguru smile and banter with you so freely. It reminded you of your earlier days back in high school when it was just you, him, and Satoru.

Satoru.

As you leaned your head on Suguru’s good shoulder, your mind drifted to the snowy haired man. It always did. You often wondered if he had changed much since you last saw him. Was he still that confident man that would give his all for the world? The same man that would have burned the world for you? What would your life be like if you had decided to go back to him that day in Shinjuku? So many questions that you would never have answers for. You knew that when you left Satoru that day, you had left your heart with him too.

If only you had the chance to tell him you loved him in person.

Feeling something rise in your chest, you were only able to squeeze Suguru’s shoulder in warning before you leaned to the side to vomit blood, the bodily fluid coming out in a viscous consistency. By the time you were done, you felt extremely weak. Your head felt fuzzy and the severe pain in your chest was beginning to subside the more you bled out.

“I’m dying, Suguru.”

Suguru’s grip on you faltered for a quick second before hoisting you upright on his back once more. He already knew it. He knew you were dying by the faraway look in your eyes and the way you could barely keep them open. You were losing too much blood too quickly. He had exhausted his cursed energy supply on Rika, only having the physical energy to carry you through pure willpower.

“Do you regret running away with me now?” he asks solemnly, slowing his pace down to not rock you too much.

You shook your head, “I don’t. I promised you that I would be there for you until the end.”

“Thank you for keeping your promise,” he expressed genuinely.

When you didn’t say anything else, he turned his head slightly to see you with your eyes closed. He momentarily panicked before he was consoled by the rise and fall of your back that indicated you were still here.

“(y/n)?” he calls, looking straight ahead and walking with no real destination in mind. You hummed in response to let him know you were listening.

“I love you.”

Despite living the last ten years of his life with you, this was the first time he had verbally expressed those three words to you, opting to show his affections for you through actions. But in your dying moments, he needed you to hear just how much he loved you, even if he knew you would never say them back the same way he meant it.

“I know. I always knew,” You smiled guiltily. “I do love you, Suguru. You’re always going to be my best friend. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I couldn’t reciprocate your feelings no matter how hard I tried.”

Suguru nudged his head against yours in a comforting manner. He whispered, “It’s okay. I still love you regardless.”

Feeling exhaustion settle in your bones, you could barely fight the growing heaviness of your eye lids and a sense of calm lulling your senses. Resting your chin on Suguru’s shoulder, he felt your faint breath fan against his neck.

“Sugu,” the nickname sounding so painfully loving on your lips, “I’m sleepy.”

Suguru couldn’t bring himself to watch you die, staring straight ahead so you wouldn’t see the tears pooling in his eyes.

“Sleep, baby. I got you.”

With that, your eyes closed as you took your last breath, your arms around his neck slipping to fall at his sides.

Trudging down the narrow alleyway, Suguru shifted your frame to his front in order to rest your head against his hard chest. Your body was still warm as Suguru held you tighter against him, albeit a bit awkwardly considering the effects of the battle left him with only one arm. You looked so peaceful. If anyone didn’t know any better, they would have assumed you were just in a deep sleep. Only, you were forever in a dream that you would never wake up from.

Suguru felt like a failure. Despite his elaborate plan, he was unsuccessful in securing the special grade curse Rika from Okkotsu Yuta. Experiencing her power first hand, she was truly extraordinary. If he had gotten her, there would be no need to sneak around swallowing curses. He would have had the power to change the world like he wanted.

You wouldn’t have had to die for him.

If only he had a little more time. Hearing footsteps approaching him, Suguru smiled at the familiar presence. With great effort, Suguru carefully lowered you and himself against the wall and held you close.

“You’re late, Satoru,” he announced, his words devoid of any real malice. “To think you’d be the one here at my end. Is my family safe?

“Every last one of them managed to escape,” the special grade sorcerer replied in monotone.

Except you. Satoru took in your lifeless form that was brutally beaten and bloodied by what he assumed was the aftermath of Rika. Your hair was longer than when he last saw you in Shinjuku ten years ago. Your delicate hands that used to hold onto his so dearly were now battered. Bruises adorned your face, crimson from your wounds beginning to dry against your skin. Even after all these years of not seeing you, even in this state, you were still beautiful to him.

“Unlike you, I’m a kind man. You sent those two assuming I’d defeat them, didn’t you? To set Okkotsu off?” Suguru questioned the male, referring to the panda and cursed speech user.

Satoru answered, “I trusted that a man as principled as you wouldn’t kill off young sorcerers without a reason.”

Suguru tiredly smiled at his words. “Trust, huh? I didn’t think I still had any of that left.”

Gaze hardening, Satoru coldly responded, “I also trusted you to keep her safe.”

He knew he was being hypocritical. He spent years trying to seek you out and to bring you home. Once he did, he even considered quitting the sorcerer life to give you the normal life you wanted. Yet you didn’t want to be found and made it incredibly difficult to track you (and naturally Suguru.) The fact you survived this far to begin with was with Suguru’s help, which is more than what he had done. At least Suguru was able to give you some form of happiness. Although he never gave up looking for you, Satoru knew he should have done more to protect you.

And now he has to live with the fact that he couldn’t bring you back home anymore.

“It was always you, you know that?”

Tearing his eyes away from your lifeless form, Satoru wordlessly looked at his best friend who had a ghost of a smile on his lips.

“All of these years away, there wasn’t a day that she didn’t think about you. No matter how hard I tried to get her to reciprocate my love, to open her heart to me, her heart was always set on you,” Suguru admitted bittersweetly.

Satoru could only stand there stunned at the revelation. If Suguru was telling the truth, had you always loved him the way he loved you? Flashbacks of you played back in his mind like an old movie.

The way you would tenderly treat his wounds after he went a little too hard after a mission…

“I swear to god, Toru, you better not come back looking like this again,” you sighed, lightly dabbing the soaked cotton ball of antibiotic on the small gash on his forehead.

“You mean looking this good~?” he smirks, flexing his bicep proudly. Only for his bottom lip to jut out into a pout at the way you playfully roll your eyes at him, not exactly denying his words but also not wanting to feed that big ego of his.

Turning around to grab a clean bandage for his wound, he misses the way a light pink hue blooms across your cheeks.

…making him a bento box of his favorite foods after scolding him for skipping meals…

“Oh?” Satoru chirps, “What do we have here?”

He watched you unravel the prettily wrapped package to reveal the lunch you had prepared for him. Based on the smell alone, he knew you had made his favorite. “A little birdie told me you skipped breakfast this morning,” you sighed.

“Did this birdie happen to be a six foot three tall man with a man bun? What a snitch,” he sighed dramatically.

Tsking, you pushed the bento closer to him. “Don’t be mean. Eat before the food gets cold or else the last hour and a half of me cooking would go to waste.”

Didn’t you just come back from a mission this morning? The thought crossed his mind as he considered how tired you must be but still mustered the energy to cook for him. The delusional side of him imagined if this was what it would be like if you were his pretty little wife.

Grinning, he takes a bite of the food and savors the delicious flavor that hits his taste buds. “Thank you, sweets.”

…and leaving little cute messages in his notebooks to read during class.

Hearing his sensei drone on about something related to cursed energy, Satoru leaned back in his chair with his head tilted back in a silent groan. He swore this boring class had a higher chance of killing him than dealing with a special grade curse. Feeling someone kick his shoe from under his desk, Satoru looked over next to him to see Suguru giving him a disapproving look, gesturing with a nod to the sensei to pay attention. Satoru merely stuck his tongue out at him causing his best friend to roll his eyes. To be fair, he was equally as bored but someone had to pay attention to take notes, right?

Leaning on his hand, he aimlessly flicked through the pages of his notebook, the pages mostly bare since he rarely took notes. Satoru’s interest quirked when his eyes landed on an adorable doodle of a kitty cat wearing black round glasses much like the ones he wore. Beside it was a little speech bubble written in your handwriting that said, “You got this, Toru! I’ll always be here to support you ^o^.”

Chuckling, Satoru turned his head to find you sitting a few desks away from him. Unlike him, you were completely engrossed in the lesson and taking notes like the good student you were. You had your hair tucked behind your ear as you gnawed on your lower lip in concentration. All Satoru could think was… ‘pretty.’

Feeling eyes on the back of your head, you scanned your surroundings before making direct eye contact with Satoru. Despite being caught red handed staring at you, Satoru shot you a flirty wink, snickering at the way you gaped at him in shock. He made a gesture of him pretending to be on the verge of falling asleep, feeling his heart palpitate at the way you couldn’t help but giggle at him.

The next class, he found another doodle in his notebook of that same little Gojo kitty along with the words, “All eyes up front instead of me, Mr. Gojo >.<.”

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. How could he have been so blind?

Or, maybe, he did see all of the signs. Perhaps he chose to actively ignore them because he knew getting involved with you would only put you in danger. He was okay with admiring you from a distance if it meant keeping you safe.

But if he knew things would end up this way, he wished he spent all this time telling you he loved you instead.

“Do you have any last words?” Satoru offered, feeling his heart aching at what was next to come.

Looking to the sky in resignation, a peaceful look graced Suguru’s face. “I never held any hatred for those in Jujutsu High. I just couldn’t wear a heartfelt smile in this world.”

“But she made it worthwhile,” he continued, his voice lowering in remorse as he studied your tranquil face, ingraining every little detail that he loved about you in his mind. “I don’t regret taking her with me. My only regret is not being able to give her the life she deserved.”

Suguru cradled your face in his hand and leaned down to kiss your forehead tenderly, his lips lingering on your skin for the last time. He didn’t react when he heard heavy footsteps draw near.

Satoru brought himself closer to the two people he cherished most in his life. Crouching down so that he was eye level, he reached out to brush the hair away from your lids, wishing so desperately for you to open them so that he could look into those eyes that he first fell in love with. Just as Suguru did, he pressed his lips to your temple, feeling a tear slip from his eye.

Goodbye, my sweet girl. To the only girl I will ever love.

🏷️: @urcutetozier @sad-darksoul @alisoncdariel @paprikaquinn @jjk174 divider credit: @/saradika-graphics

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