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quirklessidiot · 3 years

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title : minazuki [14: the party] pairing : gojo satoru x f!y/n Genre: angst, arranged-marriage au, mystery/thriller, mature, enemies-to-lovers-ish, and very slow burn (canon compliant-ish for ch-0 to the anime)

Summary: In which Y/N L/N is placed under a union she has no choice but to partake for the sake of her survival.

Warnings: smut (loss of virginity, fingering, f!masturbation, M!masturbation, soft sex, missionary, soft dom!satoru), mentions of infertility, mentions of stillbirth, mild canon-compliant violence (breaking someones bones), anxiety, blood, hallucinations, mentions of child destruction, mentions of corpses and worms notes: ha squid game goat brrt brrt (altho im stil in ep1 bcos physics brrtbrrt) anyways i hope u enjoyed this chapter. woof <3

series masterlist || taglist closed ||

Chapter Summary: There are certain things in life that you find adorable; one of them being your husband and his flustered expression that’s for your eyes only.

The mornings and the late nights are the only times when Gojo Satoru sees you. At least, that’s how it's going to be now that he’s trying to arrange his schedule. Thankfully, he’ll be able to spend more time with you for the whole day because of the game.

He’s excited of course.

The thing is though, his mind is clearly elsewhere as of the moment.

He still can’t catch up with how his life is going on.

Satoru would more or less like to think that his life was a series of events that couldn’t exactly be explained in a few words; in fact, the sketch of a wholesome and domesticated morning had been the last thing in mind if anyone were to ever ask him what exactly his life was when he was in his teens to early twenties.

Yet the sweet scent of hot cocoa and the sounds of the meat sizzling is the only thing that can be heard as he stares at the crossword puzzle in front of him. He’s not exactly big on word puzzles but he’s not trying to stare at you too much at this time of day; god knows he wouldn’t be able to keep his hands to himself after what had happened at the garden yesterday morning.

He’s not flustered.

He truly isn’t.

He just doesn’t know how to go about it, would it be alright to initiate those more? Would you be uncomfortable? He didn’t want to mess anything up especially since the relationship was fairly new. You had just confessed to each other and you literally had fisted his cock in broad daylight without shame but what happens after that?

If he had to be frank, he was hopeless in terms of communication about things regarding feelings. It’s not like he’d ever had any of this before. One night stands were easier, he could literally bail on them the next morning and not see them again but you’re his wife, someone who’s going to be with him for the rest of his life. He can’t can’t exactly do the same thing now can he?

“Strips in geography class, six letters, down.” you lean in closer, looking at the crossword puzzle. He almost drops the piece of paper on his hands when he feels your breath close to his neck.

The baseball game is today and you were wearing something cool and pretty that resembled the sundress yesterday. He tries to lessen his movements, not wanting to be too obvious, “I think they’re called Isthmi’s, Satoru.” you take the pencil from his hand to spell it out for him, “You got your characters wrong as well, are you alright?” you added. Continuing to peerlessly stare at him and his current dilemma.

“I’m good.” he muttered, he makes the mistake to shift his attention towards you. You’re so close to him that he’s able to explore your neutral gaze, one that makes him uncharacteristically lick his lips and run his hands down his thigh.

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

“No, I haven’t.” he answers that part so quickly that he almost wants to throw a palm on top of his forehead. So much for being effortless, “I mean,” he clears his throat, “I haven’t been avoiding you. Why would I?” Your husband is aware how the art of deception goes between the both of you, especially how obvious it is. Even before you were on good terms with each other, it was something that couldn’t exactly be kept hidden so when he had outwardly and obviously lied to your face that moment, you can’t help but laugh at his face.

“Please don’t do that.” he mumbled, breaking eye contact first as his face contorts to discomfiture, he leans in closer to bury his crimson shameful cheeks on your shoulders.

“Are you still embarrassed by what happened yesterday?” you can’t hide your irrepressible laughter or your entertainment at his flustered state. In fact, it only intensifies the bubbling pit of emotion that forms in your heart. Everything that you had thought of your husband; from being this smooth talker to a Casanova who seemed to have women dancing around on the palm of his hand has now been reduced to an awkward adult who seemed to know nothing about emotional confrontation or anything along the lines of that.

“Maybe…” he doesn’t want to remove himself there as he confesses how he felt. The rumors swirling around about him being the ladies man weren't true, they were highly exaggerated for the most part since he only did one night stands at most and they were usually only once in every few months, not every week or night he never saw them again after or took them on dates, the charm would only work for one night or so.

Usually, Geto and Ieiri would playfully poke fun of it when they were younger. Satoru couldn’t exactly retaliate, they were telling the truth after all. The pretty face could really only take him so far, the effects of being a closed off child clearly evident by the lack of proper social interaction and guidance.

Unlike you who was trained to the bone to function well in high society since you were a child. He, on the other hand, was usually left to his own devices because nothing he could ever say or do would come out wrong.

He is the sole male heir of the Gojo Clan, after all.

“You’re shyer than I took credit for.”

“If it makes you feel any better I think you’re the only person who can make me feel this way.” He mumbles, stumbling over his sentences and babbling his cringeworthy and clumsy confession to you at the early hours of the morning. You could only place one hand on his head and lean your face closely to his. Trying to suppress your laughter in order to not fuel his rattled state. It must’ve been hard for him to be this way as someone who sauntered and presented himself to be this self-reliant individual.

“Alright, let me just grab our food before we go...” you peck his temple, “ and if it makes you feel any better, I didn’t feel bad…everything you did seemed better than I thought it would go down...”

One hand remained on your waist, drawing small circles on it, “Really?” looking inwardly to check your eyes and trying to analyze if you were actually telling the truth. There's only concern laced in your husband's features as he raises his other hand to cup your cheek. Your eyes shutting tight at the feeling of his rough palm. You’d probably make a small gag about his reaction but something feels different about your husband right now and it didn’t seem like joking about it wasn’t the time for that either. You take his hand to your lips to give it a peck.

“Yes, I’m alright.” you guaranteed him, “I’m more than fine. Thank you for always taking care of me.” the mellow ambiance you’ve created radiates and encompasses the whole room that your husband feels as if he’s been enveloped by a warm blanket on a freezing day in winter.

He would say that he’s not the type to take things very slow but he never wants to mess anything up with you, maybe it’s the underlying dread of losing you one day because he hadn’t done enough to be able to help you out or make you happy. An experience that’s slowly starting to haunt him again especially when he recalls those memories with Suguru and their last few weeks together before he had defected,

Looking back at it now, he could’ve done more to help his friend. It sickens him when he realizes how the last thing that the man was able to do was only give him a peaceful goodbye when he had passed a year ago.

He doesn’t want to make the same mistakes again.

“Satoru?” you called out to him, snapping him out of his thoughts. He blinks rapidly to adjust himself. You were still in front of him and holding his hand, tenderly thumbing it down to show and prompt him that you were right here and right in front of him, “You're spacing out, are you really sure you’re okay? I can call Yaga-san and we can stay home today.”

“Yeah.” he rasps out and forces out a smile, trying to push away those thoughts. He’ll keep it from you, he doesn’t need you to be worried about him when you still have to sort some things out with yourself, “I’m more than fine, wife.” The nickname that had once started as a bitter and sour one has now turned to an endearing term and an inside joke between the both of you. One he’d call and only reserved when you both had quiet moments like this.

You could look at him directly at his pale blue hues, flecks of what seemed to be uneasiness littered in between those bright eyes.

“I might have to use your words against you again.” you point out, “You’re a horrible liar, as well.” Satoru could only muster out a choked laugh when he heard those familiar words this morning. Whenever you said that to him, it clearly entailed something else because Satoru rarely hid anything from you. He had always been an upfront individual about everything. You separate yourself from his hold, “But it’s like you said, we have our whole life to figure everything out, right?” you added.

The shaman can only hope that this time, it won’t be like the last.

He’ll hope you’ll stay within his arms reach and you’ll never have to walk out those doors.

“Of course we do.” is the only reply that escapes his lips, the forced smile slowly starting to turn into a genuine one. Maybe those thoughts would go away easily whenever he’d remember those words. Maybe they’ll shut up soon as well.

He watches you return to the stove to finish up with breakfast and this time, he doesn’t shy away from staring at you. He continues to immerse himself with your presence and as you set down his plate in front of him, he doesn’t look anywhere else but at you.

He’ll be fine.

You’ll both be okay.

He’ll do everything to have you safe and by his reach.

You weren’t a big fan of outdoor sports.

Although you did appreciate the fun within it especially if it wasn’t a rough one like boxing or something along the lines of that. So when Satoru had invited you to watch the baseball game alongside teasing you that he might be able to teach you a few moves as well, you could only wonder what the day had in store for you.

Of course, you were more than elated to see Megumi and the others. Maybe eye up this Todo fellow who had tried to bother the young boy as well but overall you were enthusiastic, you’ve never seen people play the game before. The only thing you had that was close enough to watching games is the little hunting match that your family would do, a true feast to see who was more cruel and animalistic. Seeing Ren and the others tainted in red had been embedded in your memory since it was a tradition to see who would be better suited as candidates for the next head.

“Y/N-san?” Megumi’s voice is high-pitch, clearly taken aback that you were there because he hadn’t received word you’d be coming by. You could feel his flustered and warmness when you cup his cheeks between your soft palms to tilt it side to side, mumbling gibberish and what seemed to be disdain that you weren’t there to help him out with his injuries and help him get better.

Satoru hadn’t allowed you to come by, saying something about the school being unsafe for the time being.

“You should visit us at our new home.” you frowned, “I feel like you’ve gotten too thin now because you’re going into too many missions at once.” Megumi still can’t get used to your treatment and he’s been on the receiving end of this for almost a year. The moment you had treated his leg despite being a mere brat who just barged in and disturbed your peaceful day, the affectionate touch you had like a mother was something he hadn’t anticipated, especially a kind one such as yours, “Yuuji has been there for dinner once.”

Now Megumi’s brows are scrunched up together, as if you had suddenly revealed a secret that shouldn’t be put out there, “Don’t tell me you were in on that little surprise too.” he pieces everything out together, it’s probably also why you didn’t allow him to come visit you during those times Itadori was presumed dead.

You were literally in on it as well.

“That’s not very nice, Y/N-san,” he added weakly.

“Ah,” your sullen look persists, letting him go slowly, “I really told Satoru the joke wasn’t going to cut it. I really do apologize, he did have a sense of urgency when he was doing all of this. All in the best interest and safety… I’ll be sure to make those gingerbread cookies you like when you come by…” the young boy presses his lips to a thin line and watches the way his sensei places his hands over your shoulder. Something seemed different between the both of you, he’s not sure what but it’s clearly not the same type of energy he’d get whenever he’d find himself in the middle of you two.

“My fault.” He grins, playfully tilting his head to the far side to rest his cheek on you. This makes the young boy's eyes double in size, confirming his suspicions of the oddity of the newfound actions, “My bad, don’t worry. Y/N just keeps good care of- Oh, wait found Yaga. Megumi, I’ll be back!”

The young boy looks mildly hesitant to say anything more. What he had just seen was clearly not the norm for the past year. He has to lean in closely and in the same and rather familiar manner as before, he inquires, “Y/N-san?” he whispers, “Are you...are you finally…” he starts doing weird hand motions once again to his stomach and you’re abruptly reminded of that time in the gardens that you could only let out a chuckle, making a few students turn to face you and the young boy who, once again, realized he shouldn’t have asked that.

Megumi was fond of assuming things pretty quickly.

“Please don’t say that to your sensei,” you could only imagine the reaction this would elicit from your husband, “You might garner a more different and violent reaction…” you add. The ebony-haired boy guides you to where the game will be, shifting the topic elsewhere to save himself from the shame that he had let on earlier, you had even seen Itadori looking more than well and a burly individual right next to him who was endlessly clinging to him like a leech.

“Why does Itadori look like he had gained himself a new stalker?” you whispered to the young Fushiguro as he tugs you away instead of bringing you closer to the said pinkette. There are a number of questions leering in when you eye the bold and robust man but Megumi just ignores it, he knows you’ll be making a scene if you ever found out that was the same man who had beaten him up a few weeks ago because of certain childish disputes like types of women.

When he does lead you to the field, there are only a few spectators there for a moment. One of them being a very familiar upper class-man, Utahime Iori. Another being someone you didn’t exactly want to talk to, Yoshinobu Gakuganji.

He hadn’t visited after that brief meeting in the garden, you made sure that it would be the last conversation you’d ever have with the man since you weren’t so interested to hear more about their collective agenda against Gojo Satoru that time, as well.

There's an exchange of brief pleasantries when you pass by and greet your beautiful senior, she’s one you’ve never talked much to since she was usually out on missions but you were thankful that she had become your middle man and hadn’t snitch on your relationship with Yu Haibara and Nanami Kento.

“I’m not sure if Kento had told you,” The girl takes out a piece of paper, handing it to you with a knowing look painted on her features, “But I recalled that you weren’t there during the funeral of Yu because of protocols, maybe you’d like to visit him this time?” You had always known where Yu Haibara is buried, you just never had the heart to visit him. Nevertheless, you take the piece of paper that seems to have weighed like steel on your palm, the address glaring back at you as if you hadn’t ingrained it in your head.

“Maybe one day.” tucking it in your pockets, “Thank you, though. I...For doing all of that even if it could’ve gotten you into trouble with them…” you’d gesture towards the older man sitting under the shade but you didn’t want him looking.

“I’m glad that Satoru is more or less respectful about all of this, Imagine my surprise when I see him prancing around and wearing your wedding ring proudly…” she shakes her head, “He feels more up his game now…Does he know about Haibara-san?”

You could only let out a smile, the unceremonious memory of your argument creeping back in, “Not the whole story...My husband...He’s been kind enough not to intrude any deeper…” you noted.

Utahime raises a brow at your response, it seemed that he knew to some point.

“Is he not jealous? That seems like something he wouldn’t do...”

You could only laugh at her response, “He doesn’t need to be.” Satoru is your present and your future, you doubt any other man would make you react this way, “and he knows that, so I believe it’s more than enough to calm him down…” you added. Your gaze shifts to the incoming players of the Kyoto Institute, making your eyes explicitly narrow down and zero in at a specific individual, “Ieiri-san, do you happen to know a Todo there?”

“Oh?” The young woman confusingly bores upon the group of incoming students, “I didn’t know you’d know him, I guess he’s pretty big after what he did last year at the festival last year but he’s the one who doesn’t want to let go of Itadori…”

“Hm,” you mumbled, recalling the way Megumi dragged you back moments ago. It seemed as if he had thought you’d march up to the fellow and give him an earful, as amusing as it sounded, it would be rather uncouth to just march up and do such a thing, maybe you’ll be able to draw out an interesting response later during the game. You shake your head and give your best wishes to Ieiri instead. Taking a seat under the cool shade next to the balding aged man.

There's brief silence in the air, for the last time you exchanged words, they were anything but pleasant.

“You’re doing as well as ever.” Yoshinubo Gakuganji acknowledged, refusing to look to your side whilst you were watching the children pile up in the middle of the field. His gravelly mental voice drowned out the loud hoots of the children. You don’t respond too quickly. Your eyes go from Itadori Yuuji who is standing on the home base then towards a familiar long-haired boy wrapped in bandages at the side.

“I am,” You watch your husband stand behind Yuuji, waving frantically when he sees you watching him. It’s one that makes your small frown turn to a smile as you return the gesture in a ladylike way, “I told you a year ago, didn’t I?” your tone suddenly turning crisp and sharp, “My husband has been nothing but kind to me.”

“Your husband has been nothing but a hazard, so far. If you had said yes to our proposition a year ago…” he clicks his tongue in dismay. He holds his words back, not wanting to say anything more yet you stand firm on your ground. You wondered just how you were going to have to get the elders to step out on this one, it seemed that they were still hoping for you to say yes to their words.

It almost makes you want to let out a laugh.

You turn to face him, tilting your head to the side, “You know,” you began, slowly drawing out the words, “I was raised to serve one man and continue to pledge my loyalty to him, no matter what. Each one of you, coming into my home, uninvited and telling me to turn my back on what you taught me…” the uneasy senior has his eyes almost blazed in what seemed to be in rage as if you had been taunting his stupidity, “That doesn’t seem to be very fair, don’t you think?”

“When we get our hands on-” he starts.

You could only give that charming and contemptuous smile, faux confidence dancing between your eyes, “I recalled also saying this,” you spun enough lies to make yourself a bed you can bury yourself into, trying to akin Satoru with a god will just be another added one, “My husband is a god. The likes of you will never,ever touch him.” there's probably another douse of heavy and grim silence when you proclaim such a thing and your faith to his cause.

You could almost feel your hand flexing and gripping the edge of the arm chair tightly.

That was it.

You had openly said that you were supporting whatever Satoru was doing and standing behind Itadori Yuuji. He grazes upon you as if he’s adding you to another long list of people he’d be looking out for during this time, you purse your lips and return your eyes forward, watching as the familiar bandaged boy gets into position to strike the ball, “Your words are to be taken note of.” Gakuganji’s voice is now dipped in poison, remembering your conversation.

“Don’t be silly,” you try to remain aloof, as if you were both simply talking about the weather and not some intricate plan of betrayal, “You made me like this, it’s only right that I am what I am because of men like you.” you reminded him.

You let him bathe in the words that they continuously implanted in your head from when you were a child, let them remember each gaze, each tone, each order they gave. You want them to recall that and sear that into their memories. Let it be known that your loyalty remained the same and you were now willing to put your life on the line for it.

“Strike!” your husband exclaims, excitingly standing up right, “You’re outta there! Change sides! Y/N! Y/N! We’re playing offense!” He continues, calling out your name. Your lips only turn to a sunny and affectionate smile as you stand up and clap loudly for your husband’s team. Ieiri, on the other hand, looked very pissed because the boy had wasted his strikes.

“Oh, Y/N-san.” Masamichi Yaga greets you with a bow, approaching the both of you under the shade, “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

The complex and hostile environment you and the elder had created is now gone. It’s reduced to pleasantries with the new face, “I believe so,” you stood up, getting ready to leave and not wanting to stay anymore or be involved in the conversation. There's clearly a line to be drawn and you had already delivered your piece, “You’re looking better than the last time I saw you at the wedding, Yaga-san.” you complimented him, even offering your chair because you’ll be sitting nearby the bench to watch the game closely.

“You as well, I suppose I have to thank you? Satoru seems to be an hour earlier with the meetings these days.”

“I’ll be sure to remind him of his schedule.” You bow your head slightly, “I’m sure you and Gakuganji-san have delightful things to talk about. Satoru would find my company more enjoyable than the both of you.” you try to joke, keeping the air free from any negativity.

You could only feel the burning stare of the old man, one that if it could leave a mark, you’d probably have a hole painted in your back now but you continue to ignore it. If worse came to worst, you’d always find a way to escape things. At the end of the day, they wouldn’t kill you. Most likely, find a more useful way for you if something were to happen to your husband.

You’ll find a way to get out of it.

You sit next to your husband as the team changes when Nobara wasn’t able to touch base, your husband clapping and saying that it was alright, “How is it?” Satoru grins, finally taking a seat next to you. Excited baby blues staring behind the sunglasses, there's no mistaken that he looked better than earlier this morning.

“A change of pace.” you truthfully replied, carefully watching the new pitcher come up the home base. It was the Todo fellow, you chew your bottom lip, watching him closely, “The game seems easy enough to play.” you continued.

“Oh yeah?” Satoru laughs, trying to poke fun of you, “After the game, if you’re able to strike it far enough, the loser has to do whatever the winner wants.” when Maki hauls the ball forward, hitting the young boy straight on his face, you could only laugh and start clapping alongside the spectators.

How enjoyable!

Your husband, meanwhile, has a pout on his lips since it seemed like you hadn’t heard him the first time yet when you return your (e/c) ones to him, he feels his breathing hitch for a second as if he knew he wouldn’t be winning this.

“I wonder what you’re going to do to me.” You could only reply, once again the rose pink hue is present on his ears as he just drops his forehead to your shoulder. Flashes of what happened at the garden are enough to make his head combust to flames, “Satoru I can’t take care of you here.” you continued, chuckling and returning your gaze to the front.

He shouldn’t have done that.

Even those words of taking care and such were enough to trigger a dilated response that he doesn’t even want to move.

“Oh, the games are done. You guys won.” you placed your hand on top of your husband's thigh, squeezing it gently, “Come on, you can pitch for me.” Satoru doesn’t want to play anymore. You won without even trying. You take his long hands and clasp them on yours as you tug him to the field.

Some of the students are eyeing you two while the others have slowly started to leave.

Megumi hands you a helmet, muttering that you shouldn’t listen to his sensei’s words because you had nothing to prove while Yuuji is cheering you on a bit too loudly, Maki and Nobara seemed rather interested by the whole thing, and you could only guess that the girl with chopped hair who looked an awful lot like Maki was her twin, the one who you had helped when she was younger.

“I don’t think I need a helmet.” You smiled, “Thank you, though.”

“But Y/N-san…” Megumi tries to offer it but all you did was take the bat from his hands, a knowing wink tossed to his side. He watches you take it with mild ease. The boy is sure that this wouldn’t bode anything well for you, you didn’t look that sporty nor did you seem to be the type of individual who did anything too physical.

You remain cool and collected.

All you needed was to swing it, right?

“I feel like we don’t need to do this anymore.” Satoru tosses the ball upwards in a light motion, catching it with ease. Baseball bats seemed heavy, what if you’d hurt yourself just to prove a point to him?

“Don’t be silly!” You laughed, copying the position Yuuji had earlier during the game. This was no more than an easy child's play, “We had a deal, the farthest gets to do whatever the other person wants!”

Megumi could feel his sweat drop when he heard you utter those words playfully, he’s glad you had a great time today but he didn’t anticipate you to lower yourself down to his sensei’s level. Clearly, the world has gone to shambles. He takes a few steps back, still eyeing you warily in case you swung the bat wrong.

Satoru, meanwhile, with controlled strength, propels the ball in your direction. With what seemed to be a swift and languid motion, you swing it with ease. Your husband’s eyes widen at the force. The ball, in abrupt speed, goes farther than he had expected and over the fence. Yuuji’s cheers are heard and Megumi’s sigh of relief that you had beginner's luck.

“Oh my,” you place your hand on top of your eyes, giving yourself shade to check where the ball has landed, “I guess I’m a natural, aren’t I?” you drop, running to your husband. Satoru has his eyes pressed to a close. He could try to beat that one so easily but seeing your overjoyed expression had his fingers tingling on the ends when he captured your waist.

“I...you know what, I forfeit…”

“Oh?” your forward approach to take his hands on yours is enough to keep his body still and pupils dilate at your closeness especially when you lean forward for a kiss on the cheek when no one is looking, the immediate smell of your faint vanilla body wash and warm breathe only makes his mouth moisten, his tongue poking out to lick his lips, “Thanks, I’ll think of what I want next time…” you whispered.

Without saying anything more, you run towards Megumi’s side and leave him standing there on his own devices.

The day continues on without a hitch, you and Satoru had more fun with the children; it’s only when you have arrived at the front door you see a package delivered and addressed to you. Satoru, who was locking the gate behind you, hadn’t seen the still expression painted on your features when you picked up the supposed gift for your half-brother’s birthday next week.

“What’s that for?” he takes the box from the ground before you could say anything else, seeing the receipt that’s taped outside, “...Isn’t this for kids?” he turns to you, his posture suddenly turning loose and lips turning to a grimace when he realizes who this is for, “I thought you weren’t going.”

You take the box from him and open the door, your husband trails behind you as he tries to talk around the situation, in hopes to find coherence regarding the situation, “Why are you ignoring me?” he lowly and hesitantly mutters.

“I’m not.”

“Liar.”

“You don’t need to go.”

“Funny, is this our first fight?”

You set the box down on the kitchen counter, a loud thump resonating in the room as you stare at your husband, “We’re not fighting and it isn’t our first fight.” you retort. You had thought that the package would be arriving next week, the store owner had clearly stated that it wouldn’t be available until then, “Just...let me deal with them, alright?” you crossed your arms, not wanting him to get any closer to what you were involved in.

“You don’t need to go there.” he strides towards you, his figure towering over you. The situation all too familiar but this time, he mirrors your actions and you’re left to wonder what he’s up to, “We could have this delivered-”

“It would be rude. I am still a part of their family…”

It was part of your lessons to perform as a dutiful daughter, family parties such as this needed to be attended especially since it was someone you were closely related to. The detachment you had with them is a shield as it is and you didn’t mind their objectifying words and morbid jokes.

Satoru, on the other hand, didn’t know the extent of what their venomous mouths could spit out. It would be best if he wasn’t there, you weren’t in favor of him wasting his energy over something this petty.

“Ah, you’re too kind to them..” he takes your hand to guide it on top of his shoulders, nuzzling himself on your neck, “You should try being a bit mean like you were with me then, it’ll make you feel better...” you feel his mouth on your neck, breathy and hot between the kisses he paints on your skin.

You’re about to say something smart yet you feel him press you lightly on the counter when he finally covers your lips with his, the only thing coming in your senses is the way he faintly tastes of the cotton candy he had earlier that day, the smell of the lasting outdoors that mixed with his perfume, and the feeling of his palms on top of the fabric, hands smoothing over and gripping the ample flesh of your ass. His knee is inside your thighs and spreading them apart, giving your core a little rub before turning you around, pressing intimately against your backside

“Sorry…” he mutters, “Just...Just wanna feel you for a second, like yesterday...We...We don’t have to go all the way…”

All he wants to do is bury himself deep in you but he doesn’t want to seem like he’s asking for it immediately. He should really try and stop putting himself in these positions. He should be taking it slow because you didn’t deserve the feeling of pressure after everything you had been through.

“Do you...do you want me to…” You're breathless as well whilst he lays his head on your shoulders.

“No, I…” Satoru shuts his eyes, “God, you shouldn’t be saying that to me, you literally just fucked my thigh yesterday and I don’t want to seem like a horny fucktard.” he continues to rub your clothed core, trying to feel your wet heat between it and give you some relief, one you don’t shy away from as you relax yourself to his taut muscles. You touch his cheek with your hand, drawing it forward to you closely.

“I thought I told you that you could ask me anything about that…” you whispered, he slowly lets go of your hand and you're about to ask him what’s going on but the sensation of the cold ring brushing your fingers makes you squish your brows together.

Another query enters Satoru’s head.

“...Have you ever touched yourself?”

“They…” He wonders if he has asked the wrong question but when he elicits the same response from yesterday, he holds onto your waist tightly, making sure to secure you in his hold, “They told me my husband wouldn’t want that…” your throat bobbed up and down, the pitch of your voice turning a bit higher and your speech slurring as a pool of arousal forms in your stomach when you feel his hard cock pressed firmly on your ass and his knee doesn’t stop rubbing that spot.

“Want me to teach you?”

“Satoru, you…” you turn to him, “But you wouldn’t-might not like it…” hastily trying to search his face for confirmation but all he does is lower his head to suck on your bare skin. He didn’t want to touch you there just yet, you might not find it very comfortable if he did it first.

“Oh baby,” he hummed on your skin, taking your hands and lapping your fingers so you’d be able to use it, shades of blue only staring into yours blatantly. You could only thank your husband's strapping built because you’d probably be on the floor by now, “I think we’ll both like it… You can even do it when I’m gone and I wouldn’t mind…”

“I-I wouldn’t do that without you…”

You had only wished you had done further readings about these things, the confidence you had yesterday was now reduced to nothing but the size of an ant.

“You the type that wants an audience then?” he hums, clearly aware of the state you were in but he’s smart enough not to comment about it. He’ll joke around about it someday but now wasn’t exactly the time, “That’s good for me, I love watching you doing anything anyways…” he takes your hands, slowly guiding it down the creased fabric. Your panties had been slightly damp from his earlier ministrations, “What you’re gonna do is this…” he takes your finger, letting it ghost through the cotton fabric before letting it go, “Start by slowly thumbing down your fingers across your cute panties, alright?” you feel your skin burn at his words yet all he does is cup your clothed breasts, fondling them.

You remained lost and shaken up, a sheen of sweat forming on your forehead, unable to articulate the words due to humiliation of being vacuous regarding these things.

“I don’t…” you try to make out the feeling, drawing your lips between your teeth, “Satoru...I-I don’t know...Please, please do it for me…” You said in between choked whispers, clearly unaware of how the pleasures of the flesh went. Your hands awkwardly jerking between your legs but it only turns him on further.

“You sure?” he kisses your cheeks, “I don’t-”

“I don’t know, I’m sorry…” his cock throbs at the way you apologize for him and he knows it’s wrong. It’s probably different levels of fucked up when he looks at it. He tries to intake a sharp breath, one that grows more audible as his warm and rough palm slowly cups the front of your clothed pussy, thumbing it down after in a languid motion.

“Hey, don’t apologize...You were doing so well earlier, it’s alright.” he makes sure to press a number of reassuring kisses on your neck, “...I just didn’t want you to feel bad…” he starts massaging it in zones you weren’t aware that would reduce you to this. Disgust and self consciousness starts flooding your system as you grew embarrassingly wet under his touch so quickly when he barely even touched your bare skin but he hushes those thoughts, whispering words of flattery in your ear.

He tugs your panties down, the cold air slapping your wet folds, making you grip the kitchen counter tight, “I’ll wear the ring, alright?” he asks. You start nodding, shutting your eyes tight when you feel the cold ring running down your slit as if he was doing it on purpose, “Just want you to be reminded it’s me this time…” he adds, his words aren’t coated with arousal but assurance only.

You feel an unfamiliar sensation prickling at your back when you hear his saccharine coated tone, one that makes your vision turn hazy and lips turn moist.

“Wanna move to the bed?”

“Ye..yes, please…”

In a flash of an eye, you're in the four corners of your shared bedroom and your husband still has his grip on you. He gently sets you down there, kneeling down on the mattress as he spreads your legs apart, your wet slit greeting him whilst he slowly trails kisses and marks on your soft petal skin, giving it kitten licks after as he places one leg on his shoulder.

Your breasts felt swollen, the place between your legs damp and begging for him.

He starts stroking and petting your cunt, lightly experimenting and giving little rubs to see what makes you writhe on his touch, “Want a closer look?”

“I...Isn’t that...too shameful?” you muttered, only for him to grab onto your waist and switch your positions. Now you're here in the middle of his long limbs, legs splayed, and back pressed on him.

“No. It never is when you’re with me…” he lightheartedly replies. His two fingers start separate the wet folds of your labia while you just lay there and let him do all the work. Your eyes are now shut tight as you take him in with appeasement, the feeling of the cold ring is enough to put you to ease, “You’d like it, don’t you? If I did this for you, all the time?” he pressed his lips to your neck, tugging the sleeves and your bra down as well. You were too caught up to notice how he had destroyed the hooks of it or the fact that you were so exposed for him.

“Yes…” you hoarsely admitted. A strong hand curving over your rib, covering your breast as he starts teasing the hard nub of your clit, “Only you…”

“Only me…Don’t worry, you can ask me to do this for you everyday and I won't get tired of it...”

Gently putting the tip of his index finger in. He starts pushing in until the knuckle, testing out what makes your hot walls squirm. The feeling of his long and bony finger had been different, the stimulation of the way he started motioning in that slow and languid pace wasn't even painful. Instead, it made you want more, “Satoru…” you started to pant, throwing your head back and breathing down heavily on his neck.

You let out a string of choked yes’ mixed with some curses, making your husband lick his dry lips in anticipation as his other hand keeps fondling your tits, his dick painfully hard as he watches you lose yourself to his finger bit by bit, “I’m gonna add another finger, alright?” his breath is hot on your skin as you look to him to watch his blue eyes never leaving yours.

“Ple...Please…” always the polite one, weren’t you?

You feel another finger come in, his digits rubbing your tight hole, continuing his obscene actions against your moist and sensitive walls, scissoring and moving it in a wave-like motion. It had seemed that you had learned so easily too as you were already too faze, fucking yourself on his fingers, “M...More…” you babbled, drool trailing down your mouth when you let out a small sob, your legs spreading even wider as your thighs start to quiver when you feel his ring finger enter you, your other hand twisting the duvet underneath you in a tight knot.

“Satoru…” you tried to warn him but he continues to make you feel good, not even giving you a chance to rest. He grabs you by the chin to lick up the small strings of saliva before fucking his mouth on yours.

He starts pushing long digits in and out of you in a lazy and relaxed pace until your body gives a surprise jerk along with the euphoric feeling washing over you. You watch as your husband takes it out, licking each finger like you did yesterday. The sensuous action is enough to make your eyes turn wide, along with a very familiar flare coming alive once again down there, “H-How about you?” you finally ask.

He still had his hard-on and you were worried that he had been too scared and much of a giver, your poor husband, “It’s fine...I…” you remove yourself from his hold and press your wet folds on his crotch.

“Do it.”

“Y/N…” He tries to warn you, voice turning to a low octave but desire continued to race through your veins at the sight of him.

Maybe he’d need to stop walking on eggshells around you, as much as you love how sensitive he was regarding your feelings, he also needed to know how much you felt for him.

He needed to know that you’re fine because it’s him.

“I trust you.” you trail a finger between the open chest of his white polo, maintaining eye contact. It’s one that feels as if you had engraved yourself on his skin. Without delay, you seal it with a kiss, grinding your soaked folds on his pants. Anticipation pulses through his veins when he realizes that you were still just as turned on as him. He takes a hold of your pelvis and shakily tugs the dress down, stretching the material and throwing it to the side.

He pulls away, your hands clumsily helping him out of his polo, brushing a part of his neck that he doesn’t seem to mind instead grabs your arm to pull you closer.

His thumb and forefinger teased the taut bud of your exposed nipple while he suckles the other one. You continue to grind yourself on his clothed length as he starts moaning on your chest to keep doing that.

It’s messy, hot, and it feels sticky but you want him to feel you and you don’t want to let him go.

Your pupils dilate when he swaps your position underneath him.

Instead of the usual response of your body recoiling back, there's unfamiliar swirls of emotions laying in the pools of your stomach as you lay there safely, you hold out one hand to cup his cheeks and smile, “Stupid idiot,” you muttered, “I know you won’t hurt me.”

And he laughs, he laughs as he nuzzles himself on your neck for a moment, forgetting the current situation at hand due to your uncharacteristic response in this significant instant. He dips his head down to give your nose a little kiss, “You’re stupid, I haven’t taken you out on a very proper date yet aside from Sendai and here I am…”

“I like how you do it.” You admitted, “You make me feel like nothing bad is ever going to happen.”

Satoru unconsciously pulls away to give you a look, one you’ve grown familiar with and accustomed to. The eyes that held depth is enough to be compared to a sea you’d drown yourself into. He didn’t try to save you or make you feel like an empty shell he needed to fix, he took you as is and loved you as you are.

“I can't disappoint you then, huh?” He rests his head on yours. Another kiss, another touch, one that’s enough to send electricity and fire there, “Tell me if it hurts, alright?” he whispers, taking off his pants.

Your gaze rakes on his erection, slowly letting go of the duvet beneath you but Satoru is only focused on you tonight, everything is just about you and will always be about you, “...can I?” you mumble but he brushes your pleas aside and kisses you again, touching his tip and rubbing himself off in his own pre-cum and saliva when you start to suck off his bottom lip, “wanna make you feel good too, please...” you begged in his mouth as you felt his tip spread your wet folds apart, sliding his shaft up and down to wipe your juices as he uses it to stroke his length.

“We have all the time in the world for that next time,” continuing to stroke his cock at the pleading look you had given him as he aligns himself to your hole.

“M’ gonna put my cock in…” he whispers as he slowly sinks into your wet hole. Your fingers start to shakily reach and hold onto his back, nails penetrating his skin as you let out a muffled whine on his ear when you feel his tip on your tight hole.

It takes everything in your husband just to not rut into you when he feels a part of his cock engulfed by your wet heat alongside the way that your lips had graze and nibble on the sensitive spots on his neck.

“S-sorry... “ you try to stutter out an apology since you knew how volatile he was there but he doesn’t care. It’s as if the perforated marks that Fushiguro Toji had given him at that moment had disappeared and there were zero tinges of fear detected when you did it. All that was running in his head was pure bliss that you, his dear wife, were like this and he’d do anything to let you stay in that state.

He sinks himself deeper in your hole, your vision turning blurry and breathing turning uneven as he pushes another inch in, pausing to check how you were feeling beneath him.

There’s only silence for a moment as you start to bury yourself on his neck, drawing your lip between your teeth so you won’t be able to bite him or whimper.

“Should I pull out?” He whispers.

“No...No...It’s fine…” You gulped, feeling him easing him into you more,

He hummed, kissing your shoulder when he’s finally inside of you. You were so still underneath him that he wonders if you were lying about it earlier yet when you start whispering and saying that you were fine and you felt good, along with you kissing the shell of his ear, he takes it as a sign to keep going.

“I’m gonna start moving now,” he keened, placing his thumb on top of your clit and giving it a rub so you could loosen up more for him. Pain is slowly overpowered by pleasure when he starts stroking in and out of you, the sound of the way you start to mewl his name like some sort of prayer mixed with your erotic moans is enough for his erection to feel fuller in you, “god, i love you…” he exclaims like a man who was on top of the world.

You began to feel besotted and high as you’re being stretched out and by the way he starts to hold your waist down with his other hand to the point where you start nibbling on the sensitive spots of his neck, “That’s right, baby… keep biting… keep doing that…” he maintains a slow pace, stroking his cock in and out of you as he places his palm on top of your warm ones, interlocking it with his fingers as he continues to guide you to your paradise.

“You’re…” you try to exclaim, “Satoru...right….right there…”

Your back arches at the way his pace starts to turn more nimble, bucking your other knee forward to your stomach so he’d be able to fuck into you better. The position had reduced you to a whimpering mess, the squelching sound of his cock filling your soppy cunt along with the way his balls slapped your skin had you seeing stars.

Satoru's huge but he fits you so well that you can't imagine any other cock inside of you making you feel this good.

“I’m close…” he mumbles as he tries to pull out to stain your stomach with his cum but instead you use your other leg, wrapping around his waist to pull him in closer. You wince slightly at the sudden movement.

“S-Satoru...” you huffed, “M’on the pill… Cum in me…”

The shaman’s eyes widened when you started feeling tight around him, intoxicated by the words that went past your lips and how close you were as well, “Right there…Right there...” the familiar fire pooling in your abdomen has you tightening your hold on his hand when his other one goes back to toying with your clit again, massaging it to give you more stimulation. Trails of sparks littering your sensitive body as he spoils you with all the indulgence you need.

“Satoru...feels...feels so good... do that…” you cried out.

“M’pretty wife...so pretty with my cock in her…” You throw your head back, moaning his name louder as his pace starts turning sloppy, your walls turning tighter as you cream on his cock with his seed spilling in your warm hole, “Good…” he commends you, leaning in for a kiss on your cheek, “So good of you…” he mumbles, pulling out of you. Your cum mixed with his seed spilling out of your hole.

All Satoru's basking in now was the faint smell of lavenders and vanillas on your skin and the sound of your sharp breathing.

He props his elbows to the side, careful to not place his weight on top of you as he lays on your chest for a bit to listen to your erratic heartbeat, “I’ll come with you.” he only mutters, “I’ll always be next to you.”

Like you were to him.

He’d pledge love and loyalty to you only.

“I know I can’t stop you.” you mumbled, trying to catch your breath, “Wanna shower together?”

Your husband only lets out another round of light hearted laughter, with the words you had said, he feels as if things were going to be just fine as it is now, “Isn’t this your first time?” he looks up, boring his gaze on yours.

“Well, it doesn’t mean it’s going to be my last with you, isn’t it?” you retort, gently placing your finger between his forehead to push him away and then run your fingers through the soft tufts of his snowy-white hair.

“Ah, never.” He shifts to the side to be able to nuzzle you closely before you both move to the bathroom, “We can do this anytime, right?” he continued, trying to make sure he had heard you right.

For a man who wasn’t so easily pleased by other women, he sure had another idea when it came to you.

“Yes,” you mumbled, recalling the words you had said earlier this year, “Now stop being scared of me and take a bath with me, we haven’t even showered yet and we both had been under the sun all day.” You added.

“Two minutes.” His brain reduced to fuzz, not wanting to move as if he was mentally taking a picture of you and this moment around him, “Make sure to pee before we get in the shower, alright?”

The week seemed to have gone as quick as the wind; mornings with your husband waking you up with kisses, early breakfast dates, and Satoru trying to come home before 10 which was truly impossible on his part but one that you don’t really mind because it’s not like sleep was getting any easier for you. So despite his repeated scolding's that you didn’t need to wait up for him, you still went to bed together.

Making love was inserted on the early parts of the day before he left if he wasn’t too tired the night before which was almost everyday since that night. After giving your sore body a day to recover, he’s rather fond of scooping you up and proving to you that being the strongest wasn’t just a title. It’s rather endearing that he still seemed quite sheepish (it often comes out as a sexual innuendo, one you’ve only recently caught on) when he was initiating them but just this morning, seeing a rather confident and brazen man taking you on the countertop of your bathroom was a sight to see.

When you had pulled the conversation out for breakfast though, his ears had a touch of the loveliest rose pink and then he’d suddenly look away, pretending you said something else.

It seemed like teasing him would be something only you’d be able to indulge in and maybe for a much longer period.

Yet you're pretty sure the saying that time passed on quickly when you were enjoying things could be applied to this situation because it’s a Saturday and the party was later this afternoon.

It had made you nervous.

It’s hours away and you seemed to have developed some kind of stomach bug during that time. Satoru had been kind enough to pick up some delectable goodies for the child, per your order the man wasn’t fond of the new gremlin, the reason being that his birth meant going to this party and you were left alone, finishing up some laundry in your room to distract yourself.

Your fingers tingle as you try to smooth out the invisible creases of your husband’s kimono that was hung and prepared for him.

Maybe you should’ve listened to him and just sent the package with a letter. The image of Satoru being around the likes of Ren and the others for the whole afternoon didn’t exactly paint a positive image in your head but you had already sent in the RSVP and suddenly calling in and telling everyone that you were sick would seem too unladylike and if you had to be honest, another set of rumors that you didn’t wanted to be involved in. You should just suck it up like those previous twenty four years.

You stop for a quick moment, placing one hand on top of the flat surface. If that didn't make matters worse, the lethargic feeling and sudden migraines aren’t going away too soon. Although you did try to catch on four hours of sleep, you’re more or less going to get yourself killed with the unhealthy lifestyle.

You’re starting to get more hallucinations; of hands coated in blood, faces you’ve never seen before, screams and voices that you’ve never heard of, and images of the same man who had tried to rip the fetuses' off of one of your ancestors.

Has your body rejected the technique?

You couldn’t exactly train as freely as before, it could mean that your body was simply getting weaker than you thought it would be. Did it work that way? Add the fact that the last time you were fully aware and awake when you were using your technique was the time you had killed Satoru’s spy and that was almost a year ago.

Hana, itself, was still a mystery you haven’t solved.

At the very least, you hadn’t had any blackouts ever since.

Your body feels like it weighs a ton when you drag yourself to the bathroom, even the reverse cursed technique can’t save yourself from it. You twist open the knob of the sink, ready to get some water to splash on your face before you change for the event later but you stop mid action when you see yourself in the mirror.

There are no whites left to your eyes, it’s as if someone had gouge your eyeballs out, there’s a mark on the middle of your forehead; a long jagged line that seemed like someone had stabbed it and ran through it with a knife, your veins turn to a darker shade as if it’s lost all hemoglobin and life within it, and there were worms crawling out of your mouth as if you were a decaying corpse.

You take one heavy breath then another, limply raising one finger to touch your face through the mirror.

It wasn’t real.

That’s not you.

You’re imagining things again.

“Y/N? Sweetheart, you there?” you hear your husband through the door, in what seemed to be a flash, it’s your lifeless eyes and your exhausted features staring back at you. The only sound is the running water pattering on the sink. No dead bodies, no horrifying illusions, it’s just you.

“I-Sorry, give me a sec…”

You turn to the door, opening it to find your husband staring down at you, “Hey,” he stops for a moment, eyes drawing towards you and your face as if you had grown another head. It’s only now that you notice something trickling down your nose.

“Oh,” you abruptly cover your lower part, “I’m sorry…” you mumbled but Satoru’s hands are quicker, he takes you back in the comfort room to set you down the counter and grabs a few tissues, all while you tilt your head up and pinch your nose bridge.

“Stop apologizing, Here…” He softly dabs the red liquid running down your skin, tilting your head slightly to get a better view, “Now would be a good time to cancel, you know.” he continues, pursing his lips together and continuing to help you despite you tainting his white shirt. There's a look of concern washing over his features and you could tell that he believes this was probably related to the lack of sleep. Although you’re pretty stressed out for later, you’re pretty sure it wouldn’t incite this.

You could only think of what your mind saw earlier.

You were still keen on not seeing a professional regarding this despite his persistence because how could you exactly explain that this wasn’t related to your own traumatic experiences?

“It’s fine,” you fumbled, “Just, just a minor nosebleed.”

“You look like you haven’t been sleeping at all.” he reiterates for what seems to be the umpteenth time, grabbing a towel to run it through cold water to wipe the blood off of you, “I really think we should see a doctor already.”

“I told you,” you take the towel from his hand, “I’ll be fine. This is just something minor.” you wipe the crimson off of your skin, “Plus I don’t- i don’t really want those sleeping pills…” you added, crinkling your nose in disgust since that would usually be the case in the end. Therapy was definitely out of the question, as well.

“Well, you can’t keep running on low sleep.”

“Didn’t you used to not even sleep that much?” You changed the subject. There's a series of moments when you recalled those times when he used to sleep on another room, how he’d usually do an all-nighter or sleep at two hours the most since he kept his infinity up and to do that, you’d need to be awake at all times.

“Very funny,” He mumbles, “I actually slept for five-six hours when I had the time. You, on the other hand-”

“Are going to be alright.” you cut him off, going down from the counter. You had to start preparing for the party later on. You didn’t want to be late. The earlier you get there, the earlier you can make out an excuse to leave as well, “Come on, we have a party to attend to. Let’s get changed alright? I prepared your kimono for you, as well.”

His eyes turn bright, forgetting about your little argument, “Will you help me put it on?” the thought of you tying and helping him in the garment would be a sight to see.

“Do I even have a choice on that?”

Satoru has had his fair share of meeting your family. They weren’t really active participants during the wedding; in fact, he recalls not even talking to Ren nor Jun that much since they seemed to have left after the official ceremony. Your parents as well hadn’t been the typical sort of individuals. Your father not even casting you any sort of glance and your mother whose job was to only stay five steps back from your father.

Your grandmother, on the other hand, seemed like someone who radiated a pleasant aura, at least from the fleeting meeting they had back when he was twelve. It’s no wonder you seem to be more comfortable about speaking of her rather than your actual family.

He has the box in hand and you’re both wearing formal kimono’s for the child’s official ceremony.

Yet you stop him for a brief moment, your hands lightly clutching the fabric before heading in, “Satoru…” you mumbled, one that’s only loud for him to hear, “Just try not to say too much, alright? Stay next to me the whole time.”

“It’s not like I’m leaving you or anything…” His face twists to a look of disgust at the memory he has of your cousin and his obnoxious behavior.

“I know, it’s just...They like to say things…”

“Y/N.” a voice booms, there stands a tall man, probably not younger than 40 with eyes shaped in crescent moons and lips painted in a knowing smile as if he knew a secret or two. Satoru hasn’t seen him before but judging by the way you hold back your tongue and immediately bow down, it may seem to be a relative or someone important.

“Uncle Jiro.” you greet him, trying to match his energy. Your husband notices the way your grip on him tightens, “I...I was thinking you were overseas…It’s been years...”

“Ah,right. You did grew, eight years was it, am I right?” he shrugs, “Couldn’t miss the baby shower, I also heard you were coming by with your husband.” The eyes slowly open to reveal the same (e/c) ones. Satoru has come to notice how each and everyone of you in the family seem to have a knack on either having a faraway and empty gaze or a feral one.

This one seemed like you but more sinister with the way he prances around. Just like the others, his cursed energy was no joke.

Satoru knows a strong person when he sees one.

“Satoru-sama,” you formally called out for him, “This is my Uncle, the youngest… L/N Jiro…”

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet the sole member of the Gojo Clan.” he holds out his hand for your husband to shake. There's no more than a second when Satoru decides to play this man’s game.

“Ah,” He firmly takes the outstretched hand, continuing to make eye contact behind his dark sunglasses, “Not a sole member anymore, I’ve got Y/N with me so that makes two of us…” he grins, trying to keep the conversation away from anything harsh.

“Oh,” Jiro nods, letting go of his hand, “The rumors of the beautiful budding romance are true then. It seemed like even the six-eyes couldn’t resist the beauty of my little niece. She’s a darling, isn’t she?” He turns to you, your throat bobs up and down under his unsettlingly calm gaze.

Your uncle is a remnant of how your grandmother and grandfather is; with a calculative and calm mind and brute strength all in one, it’s a wonder why he hadn’t become the clan head instead of Ren’s father. He stood out fairly among his siblings with not only his good looks and charm but also with the way his mind worked. He, unlike all of them, wasn’t a mindless fiend.

There always had been something off about him whenever he’d approach you when you were younger but you had always tried to be the pacified individual and take his sharp tongue with a grain of salt. You know by now he’s not as stupid as Ren who’d try to make a retort out loud so you hold your ground.

“Only the best.” Satoru, meanwhile, knows something is off but he’s not shy to keep up the pretense. It’s clear to him that you weren’t comfortable with starting up a brawl.

“Well then, I hope to attend a baby shower with you as the hosts soon.” Jiro turns to you, “You’ll make our family proud, won’t you, Y/N? Carrying the heirs of this man would truly be an honor for someone like you.” he coos as if he was still talking to a ten year old child.

Your husband expects a sneer or a wild lash from you but you remain there, not even saying anything, instead concurring with the man’s words, “I will.” the older man’s smile only turns bigger as he tells you both where to proceed.

The shaman turns to you to check up on you but you just continue to hold onto his arm, “What the fuck was that?” Satoru finally exclaims when the servant leads you two to the end of a long table, one that’s apparently reserved for important guests and the family.

They’re in a garden filled with trees and greens, unlike the Gojo estate, no flowers were to be seen at the place. In the shaman’s eyes, it looked pretty bland and boring. The only thing that added color was the ballows, paper lanterns, and the blue origami’s that hung on the trees for decoration.

“Don’t mind him.” You turn to your husband, “Don’t mind anyone. The minute you lose your temper first here, it’ll be your loss no matter the outcome of the fight...” was all you warned him, they don’t listen to reason that much around here or logic, they were monsters entrapped human hosts, “Take it as a joke, Satoru.” you added, steadily and disconcerted by what had just happened a moment ago.

He clenched his jaw when he starts to take note of the way you change yourself, it was as if you were an entirely different person then and there.

No, this was how you presented yourself during the first few months of your wedding. Voice laced with what seemed to be faux fondness to the point where it seemed sickening to hear, a smile that would never leave your face as if it was glued to your features, and eyes that were as empty as the deserted islands and desserts.

“Is that how you usually act around here?”

You could only give him that overly sweet smile, one that he didn’t like since it seemed too artificial, a reminder of what you had been and what you had to put up with, “It’s how all ladies are expected to act.” you immediately clamp your mouth shut when familiar faces start to fill and pour in the two long tables.

Your uncles, cousins, your father, and their wives. The concubines would usually sit in with guests at a separate table. Sara, like Ren had said, was nowhere to be found.

She really must’ve been thrown out as soon as they got what they wanted from her.

“Y/N…” Your father greets you, “Gojo-san…”

“Otosan.” You stand up to give your greetings, Satoru follows suit. Your mother and your half-brother are nowhere to be found yet, “I believe congratulations are in order.”

“Yes,” he nods, remaining unphased by the shaman’s presence and yours, “A boy, finally.”

Satoru could only start biting the inside of his cheek when he heard those words escape the older mans lips and if it weren’t for the way you took ahold of his hand after and give him a knowing look, he probably would’ve started throwing hands, a table, or use his cursed technique

Either of those three seemed alright.

Scratch that, he’d do all three in that order.

Thankfully, it had only been the quiet boy named Jun and his older brother. After the baby was brought in on the arms of your mother, the event went by. A little speech from your father and what seemed to be an announcement of a hunting game after.

Satoru wonders if that part was normal, he’s never heard of people hunting and making it an event. He pinches his lips shut and grimaces when he realizes that they were going to hunt curses for fun.

The tall man had never seen his job as something mindless or a hobby, sure it was a very easy job for him but the idea of doing it on a child’s birthday didn’t seem right nor did it sit well with him. You, presently, just lean back on the chair as if they were talking about boring subject matters.

It could only entail that you were used to this.

“Don’t join.” you whisper to him.

“Why?”

The image of Ren soaked in dark and impure crimson makes your gaze flit on the room for a moment and curl your hands to a small fist. It wasn’t like you were scared of what would happen to him but your husband isn’t a brute. Your cousins did this because they were bloodthirsty and vicious. If they could actually slaughter a human for their own pleasure, they would but since it’s against laws and their last name could only take them so far, they released their frustrations on high grade curses because their power could rival human jujutsu sorcerers at times, “I just...blood’s hard to clean off and they usually release grade 1 curses there, sometimes special grade…” you fibbed, avoiding Jun’s pointed gaze on the both of you, “It’s messy, that’s all.”

You just really didn’t want him to socialize with their likes for too long.

“Alright,” he takes your hand, interlocking his hands on yours, “It’s not like we’re staying here longer, right?”

You lips part to a small sigh of relief as you give him a reserved smile.

Yet things aren’t as peaceful for long.

“Oh, Gojo-san!” Ren exclaims, arms wide open with his wife trailing behind him. The banquet had just begun, food was being served. The steak looked appetizing but the sight of the individual in front of him was enough to drop the utensil and back off, “Are you going to join the hunt later? It would be nice to see the actual ferocity of the purple technique and all that jazz in person!” he adds, not even bothering to toss a look or a greeting at your direction.

“Nah,” Satoru relaxes, shrugging half-heartedly, “I’m not really into that sort of thing, it’s my day off.”

Ren’s big grin is reduced to a frown, slumping on the spot as if he had just heard the most boring and one-sided response. It seemed like the six-eyes wasn’t as fun as everyone thought he was. Not only did he not collect any whores for his own personal entertainment, he had also seemed to be the type of individual who didn’t show off his strength where he actually needed to.

“That’s a shame,” he walks closer to your side, placing one hand over your shoulder as if you were good friends, “You know, Y/N herself could be considered a hunter…” you feel your blood run cold at the playful way he had exclaim that.

It’s enough to draw the attention of Jun and your other cousins who were sitting nearby, “Well, not really hunt-hunt...but she killed someone so I guess that counts as her own little hunt, right?” he turns to you, you’re unaware of what he’s talking about; if this was about the kidnapper who tried to come at you when you were fourteen, Hana, the spy, or the man who had barged in your room last year, “It’s no wonder my pretty cousin isn’t that phased whenever we came home bloodied and with mangled cursed parts when we were kids, she must’ve been used to it since she was a baby… just like the rest of us, innate talent is so hard to ignore…”

It’s a first for Ren to treat you like this.

He’s always been one to yawn with half-lidded eyes whenever you came around or whenever he’d talk to you for even a moment since you were children. He wouldn’t even stay so long in the room when you were there.

“Ren,” you try to keep your composure for your husband. Their are probably a dozen of questions but you know that now isn’t the right time, “I don’t know-”

“So cute, I forgot that even you don’t know about it…” he pinches your cheeks, leaning in closer, only for your ears to hear, “Someone told me we were supposed to also have a cousin your age, it’s a shame you killed him before he saw the light of day in your okaasan’s tum-tum.”

Your head feels light for a moment, as if you hadn’t heard him loud and clear and you can’t express any of your thoughts out loud, your chest caves in and your expression turns blanch, one that your husband has never seen before.

There's a moment of irresolution as to what he should do in this public event as if he was thrust into a crossroads of life with a timer counting down.

He should be like you.

He really should.

Yet despite your words of admonition awhile ago, he realized that your reaction was more than enough for him to come up with the solution. Like a piece of paper, he roughly hauls the man away from you.

The fiasco he had single handedly created has everyone’s heads turning, including your uncles who were socializing.

You try to recover quickly in order to stop your husband from escalating it to a full blown fight but he couldn’t care less, with a single flick of his finger, you older cousin crumples to the floor and the feral grin on his lips never disappears despite the blood slowly dripping down in the middle of his forehead.

“That’s more like it!” Satoru walks towards him, ready to grab him by the face so he could crush his frontal bone with his bare hand and slam it to the ground to shut him up permanently so he’d never see this bastard try to pull that stunt ever again.

Yet Ren dodges it haphazardly, his hand engulfing to a blue-flame like substance, ready to strike back.

Your husband though, doesn’t give him a chance. He forcefully takes the (h/c) man’s wrist and crushes it between his fist without reluctance. The grotesque sound of his ulna cracking can be heard loud and clear along with the dagger dropping to the grass, “You better hope for shit you get out of this party with both your limbs and heart intact.” but Ren doesn’t fold so easily, like the masochist he is, he just laughs.

“It’s just a family joke, six eyes. Don’t be so serious.” he tilts his head, not even fazed by what just happened, “It’s nothing you wouldn’t get.”

The audacity of this man, one who has been reduced and crumpled to nothing, is enough for Satoru to realize what kind of people they were.

They were deranged for the most part, people who couldn’t see past reason. He’s starting to slow piece out what you mean.

“Satoru…” You whispered, trying to pry him away from your cousin, “Don’t-”

Yet he has other plans in mind.

“She’s not your family.” Your husband spits out, blue eyes laced in fury as if a storm had come in them. Pride be damned, no one would ever look at you or make you feel that way ever again, “She’s not an L/N anymore, she’s a Gojo. Don’t you fucking disrespect her like that, you hear me?” He looks up to find your father’s eyes bulged open along with your mother trying to hide the baby from the violence that was going on.

The head of the clan, your uncle, as well, had taken a step back or two at the sudden ruination that his son had caused in public towards the esteemed head.

“We’re severing the contract.” Satoru exclaims, loud and clear for everyone to hear, “Any beneficial agreements or dealings are off. Don’t try to pull out that you’re related to us. Y/N won’t be seeing you ever again and that’s final. You step within our radius…” he paused, the temperature of the place seemed to drop, “It’s not only the bones on your wrists that’ll be breaking.”

Without so much of a glance, he takes your hand gently and drags you out of there.

Jiro, who leans at the trunk of a tree, had his eyes on the whole thing from beginning to end.

It was right to tell Ren about all of that; not only did he get to see a show of you, his cute little niece, shell shocked along with the six eyes in action, but he also got himself a higher spot than that little brute who seemed to think he got the good cards just because he was the son of the current head.

Three birds, one stone.

There’s a wave of uneasiness that continues to consume you when you're in front of your home.

A brother.

You had one and he died.

You feel your toes curl to an end even when you feel your husband’s hands brushing yours, you turn away quickly to grab some water at the kitchen. You mutter something nonsensical underneath your breath, “Y/N? Hey, sorry you had to see that-” you look up to your husband, the cerulean blues that were once filled and blazed with rage are now replaced by utmost concern as he checks up on you.

“Did you...did you hear what he said?” you stammered, taking the glass that's filled to the brim. Your husband stalls his words for he’s unsure of how to respond to your question.

“I didn’t.” he honestly replies.

“Oh.” you nod, you take big gulps of water.

It pieces out now why your mother hasn’t shed any emotion towards you. Although you don’t care about the indifferent and lukewarm response from her most of the time, the detrimental loss of a high-grade son and having her value as a woman plummet due to her secondary infertility, one that was all caused by you on the day you were born, had more or less been a humanistic response.

Did you hate her? No.

Hate required previous attachments and she gave you none of those. Pity was out of the question, as well. You never pitied her for your mother had retained to be a stranger in your eyes.

You place the glass down, “...He said I had a twin brother…” it’s a statement that spoke volumes. You weren’t crying but instead you had a distant and somber look painted on your eyes. Satoru knows what you mean but he still can’t formulate a proper answer to it, “I’m confused why no one ever told me.” was all you confessed, shoulders slowly hunching forward.

No, you wonder why your grandmother never told you. The second infertility, the death of your brother, they were coincidences that were too aligned. You let out a long sigh, a sour taste burning on your throat, and heat pooling at the back of your eyes when you realize how true her words meant.

You’re trapped in this moment with the remarks that continue to echo loudly in your head.

That's when you feel his arms around you, ones that are unable to let you go so easily.

There's only tranquility and homeliness when your within his grasps, especially when he leans in closer to you, the sound of his heart beating is the only thing that can be heard in your peaceful home.

Satoru doesn’t need say anything and honestly, he didn’t need to.

taglist (had to remove ageless blogs sorry, i actually only noticed this now sike, if u wanna be back on the taglist, dont hesitate to send me a pm and tell me ur age <3);; @shokobuns ;; @aprosperlys ;; @menacanela ;; @shutuptenguu ;; @imuziawi ;; @senjuasuna ;; ;; @jjkdilfs ;; @kageyamakock ;; @pjofics ;; ;; @cowward ;; @tsumuuwu ;; @gojojogo ;; @fiona782 ;; @hinaamaya ;; @taihjj ;; @menacanela ;; @roione ;; @kgojo ;; @archonssun ;; @gyubit17 ;; @cupieyeri ;; @enesitamor ;; @lavandula-stuff ;; @yuutaokkutsu ;; @rogueofbullshit;; @kiyoojima ;; @daiawritss ;; @cosmeti ;; @wasurenagusaa ; @gomchan ;; @rinnieroulette ;; @pissbbyai

#jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk angst #jjk smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x you #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen gojo #gojo fluff #satoru x reader #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #hostclub.adulting #📝📝.minazuki mini series

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quirklessidiot · 3 years

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title : minazuki [1: the new years] pairing : gojo satoru x f!y/n Genre: angst, arranged-marriage au, mystery/thriller, romance, mature, enemies-to-lovers-ish, and very slow burn (canon compliant-ish for ch-0 to the anime)

Summary: In which Y/N L/N is placed under a union she has no choice but to partake for the sake of her survival.

Warnings: language, mentions of force pregnancy, mild sexual themes, brief trauma episode, compliance, mild manga spoilers, mild mentions of violence, bridal market, misogynystic themes, false constructs of virginity, and virginity testing (this ones illegal) Notes: satoru’s kimono may or may not be inspired by this fan art i saw of him in this music playlist nsnssnss (pls i was able to publish this early bcos i was able to edit it early yay)

series masterlist || taglist closed ||

Chapter summary: A banquet is held in honor of a long standing new years tradition for bountiful blessings and a beautiful new year meanwhile Gojo Satoru is still mourning and frankly, quite erratic especially when he stays around you for too long.

The very first time you hear of Gojo Satoru as a prospective partner is when you’re 16. It had only been a few months after your grandmother went ‘missing’. Despite the unforeseen circumstance and your family’s perturbation, this doesn’t stop the whispers regarding your future ‘husband’s’ to be. It had grown loud to the point that you couldn’t snub your destined future. The sure contenders at that time with the highest bids were Naoya Zen’in, a boy close to your age. According to acquaintances, he was someone who regarded women as low beings, which didn’t come as a surprise for you since the Zen’in’s weren’t exactly known to treat women with even the slightest bit of common courtesy.

The next was the current head of the Kamo Clan, a man who was old enough to be your father. He had a son who was only eight years younger than you and at that time, he was looking to bear sons strong enough for the coming generation to accompany his child.

The days had been grey as you awaited for what seemed like your end. The paper thin wills around you seem thinner as you hear the maids whisper what type of men they were. Their words instilling fear despite them being a servants simple hearsay.

Yet amongst the turmoil and the tidbits you’d hear, one name catches your ears, Gojo Satoru.

You knew who he was, who wouldn’t? The man had shaken the very foundations of this world when he was born. He tipped the balance of the scales and for one, it seemed like the side of good was winning.

It was next few words they say after that starts to linger in your head, Gojo Satoru was apparently one of the prospects and was on par with Naoya Zen’in’s bid. It seemed that his clan had sent in a proffer as soon as you were born but since he was of age now, he was having plans to cancel it. You remember your heart thumping, not because he was nullifying it but because a plan that you had put off when you were a young teen, slowly worms its way back to your head.

Gojo Satoru didn’t want you.

The man didn’t want you.

You could feel your heart hammering in excitement at the idea that if you could find a way to push this through then maybe, just maybe, you could end it all.

The interest you had in the man didn’t stop there, it almost painted out as an obsession. The moment you first met him in the goodwill event months later, your eyes almost glimmered in enthusiasm. Surrounded by people, clamoring to get ahold of him along with his then partner, Geto Suguru, while you stood in the crowd, observing from afar if he was supposed to be the one chess piece you needed to actually spark change in this god-ridden life.

To him you were a wallflower, a speck of dust within his large radius. It was definitely bizarre that the shaman’s six eyes hadn’t seen your real technique yet it made you even more elated despite the surrounding mystery because at that moment, everything seemed to be in place.

It was a perfect plan that at night you felt a smile on your lips whenever you thought about it before bed.

You could say that it kept you going then.

The idea of having his name and the title as his wife.

He could take in women after women to keep his cock warm, maybe even bear a child with another. The advantage of all this is that once you have the title, the elders of the Gojo clan won’t let you go from their side while you’re still able to have children and Satoru, at the same time, will be stubborn about it since you knew he didn’t want the likes of you as his partner and as the mother of his children.

What even made it better is that when he tries to throw you away one day with the reason that you were no longer eligible to bear him a heir, you would also lose your place in the bridal market.

No one would be interested in an old woman who couldn’t bear a child.

The plan that you had set-up may have been a hypothetical one and there were drawbacks involved but it was overshadowed by your presumptuous behavior

At some point, overconfidence had turned to desperation to put this plan on full speed.

It was all-out desperation that led you to give a secret tip under a pseudonym to the elders that Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru had met in front of a fast food establishment after the defect of the latter. You made it sound illegal despite the conversation being anything but that.

And because of that inkling of information you had given, you’re able to use it to your advantage later on to spark conversations about planting in a spy next to the white-haired shaman. Some would probably say it was cruel, vile, and wicked but you were very keen on trying to save your neck at that time and very wary of the other marriage prospects. For once, you felt like wanting to control one variable and aspect in your life. This decision could amount to something better for you in the long run.

So when Gojo Satoru is in front of you, on a cold winter day of December, months before the wedding. You knew you had succeeded, it was all falling into place. The council elders were easy to read and inculcate too. They wanted to keep him on a tight leash, what better way to do that than send a frail and weak woman who’d apparently be able to spy for them? It was even easier to turn them down when they in courtesy of your old principal tried to quietly offer you the role as a mole, pretending you were just foolishly and dim-wittedly in love with your husband after a few months of marriage, telling and proclaiming them that you cared utmost for him.

Yet the icing of the cake comes in the form when Satoru and you finally exchange vows. From afar, the shaman is an easy man to read. He finds people like you tedious and stiff, an effect of probably being the strongest and surrounding himself with people of his caliber.

Cynicism and dubiety laced his every move as if you were nothing but an annoying fly buzzing around yet you remain there on your side of the home. Completely content and on cloud nine that you won’t be forced to have children, that your life may end someday with you being a curse, a fallback of your technique — but at least it would be a very long and quiet one unlike your ancestors and your grandma.

It only takes a few months later when Gojo Satoru acts out of the pages of your supposed plan. He starts to put his nose in too much and starts to see you more. It irks you. He’s not supposed to be this way. You want your husband to stay as far away as he can because the closer he is to you, the more confusing he is to deal with.

Men like Gojo Satoru are a menace to women like you when they start to get too close to comfort.

They’re hard to read, hard to get along with for the most part. You couldn’t begin to fathom the complexity the man had since you knew that this attitude he conveyed to you during the beginning was just a scratch of a small surface. You didn’t want to be a part of such things that would make your life too troublesome. What you wanted was a silent coexistence, one where he didn’t bother to look your way.

Not a life where he comes home to you, one where you’d have to serve him and keep acting like his perfect wife who apparently loves and worships the ground he walks on.

A part of you even starts to regret this whole union since he was getting too close for your liking. He might see through the mirage that you continuously and so desperately built between you and each person you encounter.

He needs to be pushed away as further as you could. Warranting his interest and eye on you is too dangerous and hard since not only did you two live together but your husband as well.

What if he found out that you were the one who orchestrated this whole marriage? Or better yet, what if he had found out you had murdered the spy he sent to you? What if he changes his mind and suddenly wants to use you, just like those other men?

What then?

Too many lies, too many secrets buried from one point to the other just to keep yourself afloat and to end the bloodline with you. Getting too close to someone whose relationship is built on a lie wasn’t one you wanted, not because you’re guilty for doing all those things but because you dread what will happen to you when he finds out.

So, it’s better this way.

You stare at yourself in the mirror, your bare torso littered with lesions and blemishes. Your wet hair is pattering on the tatami mats as you start to hum an old song, one your grandma would sing to your male cousins when they were younger as you slowly start to trace the mark one by one, stopping below your breast.

“Huh,” you muttered nonchalantly, lining the long scar beneath it, “She almost cut my heart out.”

It was almost the new year and it marked the eleventh year since you killed your grandmother to get where you are today. You wonder what she’d say to you if she was here, she’d probably yell at you for scheming such things, that you were being too clever for your own good and you were revealing too much of your cards.

Probably even call you pathetic since you chose a very painful death rather than dying by the hands of the next user.

Yet you continue to hum, happy thoughts only in your head since the relationship between you and Gojo Satoru have diminished and returned to ignoring each other's existence. An effect of the death of his friend and because he didn’t seem to have the energy to even want to be in the same room as you and deal with you like before. You use it to your advantage and continue on your merry way, not even bothering to talk to him since you didn’t want to put your nose in his business.

The boundary between you two has been cemented and fortified yet again and you doubt it was going to change.

“Y/N-san?” Hana, the new maid calls out, knocking behind the door in a gentle manner, “Do you need any help?”

“I’m alright, Hana. Please check on the catering.” you hummed a reply. The muffled response and the silence after makes you return your gaze to the mirror, it was time to get to work.

The new years party was something each of the large clans would celebrate in order to invite the bountiful blessings and prosperity for the coming year, it’s usually celebrated on the night of the 31st of December. The head of the clan would then invite the smaller related ones, allies, clan elders and such to celebrate the festivities, with the night ending on a grand and large fireworks display at 12 midnight in honor of the year about to come and to scare away the bad luck for the new year.

When your husband had become head, the workers had told you that he usually kept to himself at this time since he was not fond of the related clans and of alcohol as well. They were even a bit hesitant to celebrate it since Satoru tended to be erratic these days whenever he’d show himself around the house.

But with a letter sent to you by a clan elder of the Gojo clan, proclaiming how you’d finally be able to turn around the bleak situation of the household, you ended up organizing the traditional party to get them off your back in the meantime.

It was a simple party, what could exactly go wrong?

Garbed in a yukata made from the finest of silks, you find yourself in a sea of people, drinking and merry-making. Many women throw compliments about how the household looks brighter with you as the woman of the house while the men expressed how lucky your husband was to snag a beaut as nurturing, loving, and obedient as you.

“It’s amazing, Y/N-sama.” One of the women gushed, you couldn’t exactly remember her name but you recall she was the wife of one of the smaller clan heads who swore loyalty to the Gojo Clan, “You’ve managed to change how the whole house looks. My husband had even told me how loving Gojo-sama is to you.”

You could only smile at the young woman’s ignorant words, “Truly. My husband has been kind and very loving.” you falsely compliment, “I would be glad to make this a yearly tradition for all of us to enjoy.”

“That sounds nice!” another one added in, “We’re also looking forward to seeing little boys running around the estate by then!”

The drink on your hand seems to turn cold as you hear her words but you try to maintain and collect yourself, “We shall see. My husband seems busy trying to fix some damages that the defector has done.” you politely replied, trying to ignore her words. The conversation thankfully shifts to where your husband is but you doubt he’d be anywhere but here tonight.

Ichiji had called you in a few days ago, saying that Satoru was getting a bit reckless in the missions given to him. Of course, with being the strongest, that wasn’t really the problem since he wouldn’t get killed off so easily but when a god has a few screws loose, obviously many would fear the outcome.

They decided that calling you in was best.

You couldn’t exactly say that you can’t help their predicament since you and Satoru weren’t exactly on talking terms. Whenever he was home, he didn’t exactly made his presence known nor did he want to stick around you for too long.

You were simply two strangers living together now.

Your gaze flickers to a young Fushiguro Megumi who was quietly at the side, a few people clamoring and asking who he was and by the looks of his uncomfortable gaze that seems to be avoiding the questions, you knew he didn’t want to be the center of the attention. He was going to spend his first new year alone because his sister had yet to wake up so you decided to just invite him to this gathering, even giving him a personalized kimono suited for the occasion. The boy declines at first but you continuously insist, Megumi had become a part of your household already and was here for the most part, even spending the awkward holidays with you and Satoru for dinner— the poor boy had to sit with you while Satoru wasn’t exactly in the best of moods, he definitely was looking at his teacher weirdly the whole night.

“Excuse me ladies,” you call out, approaching the group of young ladies, “I’d like it if you give young Megumi some room to breathe.”

“Gojo-san, I didn’t know your husband took a personal student in!” A young girl pipes in, staring at Megumi with dreamy eyes. The pitiful girl had been so enamored by him at first sight.

“He has been with the family long before me,” You smiled, taking his arm and wrapping it around yours, “And has been like a son to me and my husband. I’ll have to take him away for a moment since Satoru-sama isn’t here.”

You detect the small red tinge on Megumi’s ears when he hears you call him that and you find yourself chuckling genuinely, he truly was an adorable teenager.

The young girls continue to gush about his presence as you whisk Megumi away from their reach, “Thanks Y/N-san.” He mutters, wiping the invisible sweat lined on his forehead as soon as he is able to get away from the girls, “You didn’t tell me there would be a lot of people.”

“It’s tradition,” You patiently explained overlooking the event, Megumi had been the only person who turned up tonight that you wanted to genuinely talk to, “Satoru-sama hasn’t been keeping up with it since he became head though. He likes to keep to himself during this time.”

“Does that mean he won’t be here?” Megumi quietly asks, the teen was only aware of the arranged marriage between you two but not the underlying matter that you and Satoru were not getting along and that this arrangement was brought about by money. It made a part of you wonder how Megumi would feel when he realizes how low the women were treated in this society since he looked up to a woman himself.

“He’s…” You paused to find the doors opening, revealing the host of the hour, Gojo Satoru, in all his glory. Like you, he’s clad in a formal kimono along with a haori for the celebration but it's haphazardly placed unlike yours. He doesn’t spare so much of a glance towards the people there, maintaining his pace and gaze towards you. One might think he was a man in love but you were well aware it was anything but that yet you keep up the façade and pretend to be the wife in love and under him, “...Just in time…” you muttered to yourself.

Aside from his garments, Satoru dons upon his usual pair of black Lennon sunglasses. It’s a completely out of place piece in his ensemble but it fits him perfectly well, daresay, it added a bit of flair and modernism in the seas of traditional wear.

At times, from afar, you’d admit your husband was a good-looking man. A shame it would disappear when he’d open his mouth to annoy you with his nosy attitude.

You feel Megumi walk away next to you— a smart boy, really. He must’ve detected that you two were still not in talking terms.

Satoru presses a firm kiss on your temple and the room watches the action in silence with their breaths seemingly held, enthralled by the shaman’s public display of affection and waiting for him to say something after. A speech was a normal action that the head of the family would do during a new year’s celebration but your husband remains silent as if telling them to get on with the program.

It was clear that he was still detesting the whole idea of it and you were sure you’d be the receiving end of his displeasure about this event since you didn’t even consult him.

“My husband thanks everyone for coming here and celebrating this wonderful and upcoming new year with us!” You say in his place, feeling the burning eyes of the clan elders of the Gojo Clan on you, “He isn’t feeling so well so please, enjoy the rest of the night and we shall see each other in the end for the fireworks!”

Satoru grabs ahold of your arm as everyone slowly returns to what they were doing while a group of hired traditional music players start shelling out their musical instruments in preparation for a song tonight.

“It’s a surprise you’re here.” You greeted him through the sounds of the koto’s being played, “I’m glad you decided to come.”

“Drop the act, Y/N.” he huffs, displeasure laced in his tone as he guides you both to your seats at the front, his arm is wrapped around yours as if you both hadn’t ignored each other for the past week, “You aren’t dumb to figure out that the reason why I hate these events is because not everyone can smile at the snakes that litter their yard.”

It seemed like this time, your talks would mostly consist of arguments. No more playing nice. How quaint.

He pulls a chair out for you to sit on, takes off his white haori, and hangs it behind his chair before taking a seat right next to you.

“You’re getting too ahead of yourself tonight.” You retaliated, an innocent smile still painted on your lips as you feel heavy on-set eyes on the both of you, “Are you perhaps, still angry?”

“That would equate to me caring for you.” his sudden signature shit-eating grin is on his lips, his baby blue eyes peeking through his dark sunglasses as if it was staring right into your soul, “And frankly, these days, it made me wonder, what if I actually just decided to drop you?”

Your grip on the chopstick on the table suddenly tightens, “My, my,” You laughed as if he just hadn’t threatened you, “For a man who proclaims trying to be better than the elders, you sure go back your words pretty fast.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“I’ll have you know that it’s your loss.” lies. lies. lies. “Even if I’m gone, they’ll find another to replace me.” You maintained a steady gaze towards him, not trying to show you were affected by his words, “So unless you want a woman forcing you onto her tit and licking the boots of the clan elders at the same time, you better not do what you’re planning.”

“Scared, wife?”

“No, my dear husband.” You lied through clenched teeth, masking your fear with confidence as you throw back the words he had used earlier to provoke you, “That would equate to me caring for your actions and frankly, I care little for you and your overbearing and childish antics right now. So try to get in line.”

“You know, for someone being called an innocent angel by everyone, you sure are an overbearing and scheming bitch.” Gojo Satoru harshly chastised, eyes narrowing behind his sunglasses, the grin drops and it’s replaced by a dark and indignant expression. As if you had gotten under the shaman’s skin with your words.

“Mhm,” you hummed in acknowledgment, not an ounce of fear traced in your features. Well, he wasn’t exactly lying when he said you were scheming,“ You know I did say to you that this was a partnership in the beginning but it seems like you're taking my actions too much to heart.”

“Well, partners try to stop the other from doing something witless, like, i dont know, complying? What time are you living in? 1891?”

“You’re too meddlesome. If this is what this is all about, I suggest you look elsewhere.” You paused, pointing out the flaw in his argument, “By partnership, I meant we don’t mind each other and use this marriage to our advantage. I didn’t need your help at that time. I don’t need your help ever. I could’ve handled it well even if you weren’t there.”

“Right, handle it, by how exactly?” he snorts to hold back a laugh, “Standing there? You could’ve done something.”

“What would happen to me then?”

Silence ensues as you say those heavy words, “Tell me, what would happen to me then, Satoru?” You pressed him further, dropping the honorifics, the air between you turning deadly serious as if you wanted him to answer that question then and there, “I may be your wife but I think you’re forgetting that doesn’t necessarily equate to a lot of things since I’m just a woman around here.”

Satoru sinks back to his chair, clenching the glass tightly as if it was about to break to pieces.

“Well, you could’ve told me.” He points out, “You know I could help you out.”

“I’m not sure that’s how things work, Satoru.” You deliberately replied, the suggestion coming off as a joke in your part since you know where this conversation was heading, “I don’t really want to say my problems to anyone, especially to a husband who I don’t get along with.”

Another round of silence erupts between you two as you address the long standing elephant in the room. Satoru looks away from you, clearly riled up.

Your gaze catches the eyes of an elder narrowing his eyes in your direction and you let out a smile to show that you just weren’t in another fall-out with your husband, “I’ll be continuing my way around here now.” You muttered, loud enough for him to hear as you slowly inch in, hovering close that he feels your pulse. Satoru’s distinctive blue eyes are staring at your empty ones, his finger twitching at the unexpected close contact while his infinity suddenly switches off when you get even closer to give him a brief and soft peck near his lips, “Try to stick around until the end, apparently the first fireworks display for the new year also grants a wish and everyone's been dying to hear when you’re able to get a spawn in me.” You whispered, your lips grazing the shell of his ears.

Satoru narrows his eyes at your words and he’s about to retaliate but you're gone and lost in the crowd. He’s left there, alone, trying to assess your words. How many times does he have to say that he doesn’t exactly not like you? Okay, maybe he sort of did at first but that was before.

And a child? God, hasn’t he told the elders to get off his back with that one? Having little critins running around wasn’t exactly something he wanted right now, especially yours. He could just imagine their scheming little faces who pretended to be little angels like you.

“Gojo-san.” Someone calls out, Satoru turns to find an older man standing there.

“Not you again,” he mumbles distastefully underneath his breath, staring at the old man, “What are you all up for my ass this time?”

The old man ignores his colorful language as always, used to such treatment from the powerful shaman.

“We seem to notice a problem between you and your wife.”

“We’re fine.” Satoru lied, okay, maybe he threatened you with a divorce moments ago but he wasn’t actually going to do it! Other than not wanting to be like the elders in his clan and the council, it was better to have you there rather than some other woman who’d sniff up his ass and rat him out for the things he did. Having old men trailing behind him was too pesky and bothersome. You were a pretty good deterrent already.

“Our sources said you both aren’t even getting along.”

He raised a brow at his words, well, it seemed like he might need to do some spring cleaning with the workers at the estate for the new season.

“We’re both fine.” He reiterates dryly, “We’re both working things out and I don’t exactly want a kid now since I’m busy.”

“That’s why you have your wife to raise them.” The elder points out, making Satoru raise his brow at his choice of words, “The other elders are saying three kids will do and you can dispose of her in the other side of the estate, maybe even-“

“Yeah, that’s enough.” Satoru cuts him short, the elder’s words making him this close to snapping his neck if he had said another word, “Sorry but customer service isn’t accepting suggestions or any of that bullshit from people like you today, try never, alright?”

Before the elder could say anything else to his sarcastic and vulgar reply, the shaman walks out of the conversation. His mood dampening even further when he hears the words the elder had to say right at his face. God, this is why he didn’t like these festivities! Everyone seemed to make it their mission to rile him up. Not only did he have to deal with you tonight, he had to deal with 300 other people.

He stops in his tracks and catches your figure, laughing at the jokes with a few other guests. It’s been a week since he came to the wild card conclusion and he’s still wondering how you’re able to pull that off so easily. He knows it's insincere, it’s so easy to point it out but how do people (like him, at first, he’s definitely proud of not being that slow) not notice the underlying emptiness of your kindness or genuinity?

The man had always prided himself as a genius, a man who could easily read through people and assess the situation at hand quickly but then here he is now, married to a woman who seemed to make it a mission to raise his cortisol with an angelic smile that everyone doesn’t seem to suspect.

He watches your gaze slowly shift towards him and from afar, you let out a small wave with your usual twinkling features, making the women around you giggle and gush immediately at the action you did, he reciprocates it with an annoyed grin.

Ah, it seemed like you and him were going to have a very colorful life ahead of you.

The rest of the night continues on with Satoru eating off the sweets table while Megumi casts him a few glances from time to time, wondering how long the fight between you two was going to happen. If this was the situation, the young boy might as well lessen his visits. It was getting kind of awkward and he did not want to sit through a quiet dinner again. Gojo Satoru and quiet was definitely not what Megumi would think would go together in a sentence but he had experienced that once and he never wanted to experience that again. He watches his mentor take one last bite of his dessert before approaching him.

“Um, Gojo-sensei-”

“I’m leaving.” He cuts the boy off, having enough of everything, the room and his formal wear getting very stuffy, “I can’t stay another minute here.”

Megumi has to hold back his tongue there because one, he’s not paid to get in between a couples fight and two, he’s pretty sure he’ll get dragged into this and he may or may not have to pick a side.

Satoru simply walks out of the event, not realizing the weighted gaze of the others or the underlying whispers that follow him.

Meanwhile, you return to find your husband gone with Megumi’s apologetic gaze upon you, “He um- had a bad tummy.” The raven-haired boy lied, quite terribly so.

“It’s fine,” You remain calm towards the young teen, making him feel terribly guilty that maybe he should’ve stopped his mentor from leaving a while ago, “I’ll call a driver to take you home, Megumi. You don’t need to stay here until late at night for this.”

This makes Megumi feel even more awful about the whole thing, he might have to take your side on this one.

It's been a week since Suguru Geto died.

Satoru is awake early and facing the antique painting on the wall as the thought washes over him yet again. The other half of the bed is cold and he’s alone as always. It's a pretty good reminder of how life is going on these days.

The party last night left a bitter aftertaste on his mouth. The conversation he had with the elder and the one he had with you before that, made his head hurt. It’s as if he had downed a whole bottle of sake and woken up with a hangover when his mind flashes back to it.

Everything has turned into haywire after he had married you. At times he wonders, just what did he ever get into when he approved of your marriage instead of pushing to look for the other potential brides? I mean sure, you had your edge. Satoru had to admit you were reckless when the situation called for it, even in front of the elders when they tried to offer you their hand despite you not even being that strong in terms of cursed energy and whatnot.

But there was your insoluble attitude, those empty eyes behind that supposedly kind expression. One he could never piece out. One he feels hesitant in trusting, A part of him feels like the marriage is far from workable and an even smaller part of him feels like you wouldn’t hesitate to ram your pretty encrusted ruby pins by his throat if he put off his infinity. He feels like a dead man walking in his own home.

Again, Ieiri thinks he’s crazy but he swears he gets those vibes from you.

The sun is already out and the birds are too noisy at the early time of the day. He might as well leave after grabbing something to eat. Yawning and stretching as he walks down the dining hall after getting ready, he stops mid-action to find you sitting there, fully awake as well and picking on some egg rolls.

Wordlessly, he sits across from you while the maid comes in. The servant awkwardly looks between you two. Suddenly comprehending the situation she was in. She placed Satoru’s plate down immediately, not wanting to stick around and get caught in the heated crossfire. The servants weren’t blind, they seemed to have noticed that whatever had happened between their masters had made the relationship significantly plummet. It was as if you were at each other's throats without even needing to say insults.

“You left pretty early.”

“I didn’t want to be there.” Satoru automatically replies, “So don’t organize those types of events again. They make an artery pop in my head.”

“I’ll be sure to take note of that.”

It’s silent again and it’s smothering him just like last night, Satoru notes of the way you calmly eat your meal as if he just hadn’t threatened to divorce you nor walked out on the event and left you alone there on your first new year as a couple, something that many would cast frowns upon.

He finishes his food quickly, not wanting to say anything more or stay in this uncomfortable room.

Meanwhile, you’re left alone there once again yet this time, there are no smiles, just a blank expression when you realize what's to come later on.

It’s later that day when you greet one of the elders of the Gojo Clan, you don’t even bother to know his name or listen to what he has to say since you’re well aware why he’s here along with a female doctor. You remain behind the doctor he’s bringing, three steps back with your head down as you hear him drone about last night’s party, congratulating you even for the apparent job well done.

He stops in his tracks, making you follow suit, “It’s come to my attention that you and your ah-” he paused, slowly turning to you, “Husband aren’t getting along these days.”

Another spy in the estate from them.

Were you going to have to kill another one?

“I assure you that me and Satoru-sama may have our differences but we are working it out. I love my husband very much after all.” You remarked, your head still down with your hands clasped tightly together, “Yet he hasn’t been feeling too well these days because of recent events.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be pleasing him then? That is your job, isn’t that right?” You feel your grip on your hand tighten as his shoes come into your view, “There are rumors that you both haven’t consummated the marriage too. Seems quite suspicious for a couple who looked head over heels in love last night.”

You start to chew on your lips, starting to grow on edge. So this was how it was going to happen.

“The doctor is here to check,” you hear him sigh, as if he was disappointed in you, “Along with your fertility. I’m sure you know the process. This isn’t the first time, is it not?”

You feel your head throb at the thought and a part of you wishes that this will be quick, “Thank you for your concern, I’ll be cooperative.” You silently consented, trailing behind the female doctor as you two enter a private room. There's a mat on the floor and a small pillow, apparently to comfort you throughout the process but all you could feel is the bile rising on your throat.

Slowly, you lay across the doctor, hesitantly splaying your legs open for her viewing. Clamping your eyes and shutting it tight, the grip on your yukata tightens until it wrinkles when you feel the strangers two fingers enter your warm hole, checking if your hymen was still intact and if your vagina was lastic enough.

You don’t know how long it was, it may have been seconds for the doctor but to you it felt like the longest hours.

She slowly takes out her fingers and you're suddenly able to breathe, it’s ragged and out of pace but you remain there, mildly embarrassed and legs still apart as she wipes her wet fingers. You quickly sit up, face warm from holding your breath, blinking away the tears quickly to show that you were fine and you weren’t affected by it.

You’re okay.

You carefully sit up properly, back erect, fixing the creases of your yukata and the strands of your hair that have fallen off. Making yourself neat and presentable for the next part of the exam.

You’re okay.

The doctor starts inspecting your fertility and ovulation, asking you questions here and there. You remain calm but you avoid her gaze for the duration of the meeting.

It’s only much later does the elder come in, his shoes are once again the only thing you can see as you bow down in respect, “The doctor tells me you and Satoru haven’t been engaging in sexual activities.” his voice is laced with discontent yet again.

“My husband proclaims he loves me but he doesn’t want to bed me,” You keep up the pretense, “I can’t force him.”

“Well,” he clicks his tongue, “Isn’t that something you should solve? There's obviously something wrong with you if he doesn’t want to bed you.”

“I believe he doesn’t see me fit for his sexual preference.”

“Well, I suggest you fix that.” He retorts, annoyed that you had the gall to answer him back, “That’s what your use is, Y/N. That’s why this clan was pushing to buy you in the first place.”

“I understand.” You maintained. As soon as they left, your gaze looks down upon your limbs for a brief moment, your face wrinkling in disgust, the feeling of self-loathing eating you up bit by bit like a parasite. Slowly you closed it as tight as you could and brought them close to your chest. Your nails dig through the skin of your bare thighs, enough to draw blood as your expression turns infernal. The thoughts of how to proceed though suddenly evades your mind.

You were too confident. It seemed like you needed to add another layer to your plan to protect yourself around this household.

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#jjk x reader #jjk imagines #jjk angst #Jujutsu Kaisen #jujutsu kaisen imagines #gojo satoru angst #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen series #📝📝.minazuki mini series #hostclub.adulting

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quirklessidiot · 3 years

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title : minazuki [17:Gojo Satoru] pairing : gojo satoru x f!y/n Genre: angst, arranged-marriage au, mystery/thriller, mature, enemies-to-lovers-ish, and very slow burn (canon compliant-ish for ch-0 to the anime)

Summary: In which Y/N L/N is placed under a union she has no choice but to partake for the sake of her survival.

Warnings: small manga spoilers (gojo’s past arc), abandonment, (small) non-canon compliant stuff, violence (mentions), mangled body, blood, mentions of black market, mentions of bride market, mentions of infidelity/concubines, mentions of incest (second degree), mentions of child destruction, mentions of insanity, notes: splitting to two parts since they’re long chapters if i made it one. i hope you enjoyed it. <3

series masterlist|| taglist closed ||

chapter summary: love. such a small word for such a big feeling.

1991, Gojo Household

Children were often easy individuals to care for.

They’d coo, cry, shit their underwear, eat, sleep, then repeat all of that. It may vary to certain or different degrees but more or less, they’d follow that unfailingly. At the same time, as undemanding as they are, they were also interesting individuals to discern.

When Gojo Satoru was born on the seventh of December in 1989, it was the middle of an abysmal wintery night. He was as pale as a ghoul that they had wondered if he was alive since he didn’t cry too loud like a normal babe. It had made the mid-wife worry but thank the heavens with one harsh slap, Gojo Satoru made one loud wail to announce his birth to the world.

The snowflakes that fell to the ground, the iciness of the nearby lake that reflected his light blue eyes, and the stars that seemed to have aligned when the strongest of the world had been pushed out of his mothers womb. He was so tiny yet so powerful at the same time. The very existence had shifted the world’s power dynamics.

Yet for the man who was known to be the father of said child, he only saw the weight of the world on the baby’s shoulders and a dreadful reminder of what’s to come if he is not too careful. He walks down the narrow hallways, the only light source is the dim lights that decorated the estate.

The current head has his head held up high and his shoulders squared, servants who were still awake would bow down in greeting as they do their last minute check-ups and clean up’s of the place, guards were littered on every post to protect the future of jujutsu sorcery or so they speak.

He stops in front of the sliding doors, behind them he can hear the soft coos of his son, ready for bed by the sound of it. He comes inside, unannounced as always. The baby had his mouth latched on the wet nurse's bosom as he slowly withered away to sleep, “Gojo-sama.” the wet nurse greets, bowing down with his son on her hand, “You’re here early, I apologize for the-” yet the older man only raises his hand.

“You can leave us after you fix yourself. I believe I owe my son some time.” he only utters. Unlike those warm cerulean hues that his child had and the amorous tone that matched it, the head of the clan’s eyes were of a darker shade of deep-set expressionless ones that could rival the peeking blizzards, his authoritative voice was crisp and cool.

When the pair was left alone, the baby in the crib makes a soft sound at the familiar sight of his father with his hands held out as if he was saying that he wanted to be carried. Unlike many, the boy held no qualms of fear for the man.

It’s another thing that made babies extraordinary in his eyes.

Terror is never written in their faces.

For a child, fear is usually imbued to them. It’s never innate. Drill into them cowardice, they’ll end up like a trembling rabbit ready to be ravaged and hunted down in the wild. On the other hand, if you were to instill in them the heart of a champion, a winner; they may end up just being the ones ruling the land, instead.

Yet the boy in the crib knew not a single thing of the horrors that surrounded him or what was to come, he was nescience to the idea that everyone is out for his head nor is he truly aware of what those bright eyes and little chubby fingers can destroy in the near future. The boy is a god amongst humans, “A story, Satoru...It’s time for me to tell you the story of our predecessor, again…” his voice is regal and strong yet the baby doesn’t mind even as he’s being picked up.

The head of the clan had always told him the same chronicle each night, the same words, the same characters, not even sparing him the details despite it sounding a bit too mature for a year-old toddler to hear.

He needed to hear it. As long as he lived, he’d tell the boy the same tale. The same reminder. It’s his obligation, not just as the head of the Gojo Clan but as a father as well, to set his son on the right path. To not have him commit the same mistakes.

“Long ago, in a time where things were fairly new,” his hands were rough, filled with blisters from the battles he had faced yet they held the boy so benignly like precious cargo, “There lived a high lord; he was known to be kind, powerful, wise, and loved by many...His name was Michizane Sugawara and like you, he holds the six eyes, the limitless technique, and basically immense amounts of cursed energy that you would most likely have someday as well…his power could take and destroy cities like they were nothing but glass...” the young Satoru coos, unaware of the tale and it’s burdens despite it being told to him almost every single night, “despite all this power and being adored and favored by many, he still felt lonely... He marries his only cousin, thinking that he would never meet his perfect match and she bore him strong sons and beautiful daughters yet it still wasn’t enough to fill his empty heart.”

The older Gojo remains still, watching his son for a brief period as if he was waiting for him to say anything back yet the toddler merely smiles angelically at him, not having the faintest idea of his father’s distress, “...He was wrong. On his journey to cleanse the mountains, he stops in a small town. Amidst the crowd of many, he sees her. A beautiful young woman who was described to have been an angel on earth and would put all the goddess’ to shame...She, unlike Sugawara, held no titles, no land, nor was she the daughter of any esteemed individual...She was nothing yet he kept staring…he kept coming back to her despite all of that…she was unlike any other woman he has met. For in his eyes, she treated him as an equal and a friend… unknowingly, he had given his heart to her on a silver platter… he wrote her poems, ballads, letters, adorned her with gifts, sung her songs, all in the name of love …”

The current head of the Gojo Clan also experiences unrest as he stares upon his boy. There has not been a six eye user in the past hundred years and there was always that warning, the story of Michizane Sugawara and his lover and how love had been the key to driving him to insanity.

Powerful individuals, especially jujutsu sorcerers with techniques that included complex and heavy mind work were susceptible to this type of manic ending. As much as he prayed for his son not to end up with the technique despite it being called a blessing by many others the boy was not very lucky.

It’s why he tells this lore each night to the babe in arms. He hopes he’ll live to tell it until he grows older. He needs to realize that as powerful as he is, he is just as fragile as well, especially if it holds matters of the heart and emotion.

“...One day, he realizes; I can take her in as a concubine, away from all of this painful life of overwork and endless suffering… and he does, he whisks her away to his estate despite her firm no’s and saying that she was fine with the life that she lived...That was his first mistake,” he pursed his lips, the temperature around the room seemingly turning lower along with a chill that went down his spine, each and every single time he told the tale, it elicited the same response, “...because the concubine, the one he proudly called his sun and his moon...had long fallen in love with someone else before she had even met him, a childhood friend she grew up with...a ruffian from the mountains whom she loved since she was a young girl. Like her, he held no titles, no lands, nor was he the son of any notable sorcerers or royals. All he had was a scraggly sword and a measly second-grade technique…”

Love, for Michizane Sugawara, is the most twisted curse that could ever be inflicted upon him for it drove him to the edge.

He practiced no self-restraint. He was given one thing yet he was still famished for more despite knowing she couldn’t give it back to him.

“The concubine kept seeing her lover behind his back, another mistake made... yet humans are as stupid as they are when such sentiments are involved…They do such things that aren’t the norm...” Satoru tilts his head, as if he understood what his father had just said, it only makes him smile sadly, “...and as kind as he seemed to be at first, Michizane Sugawara was not a kind lover… the moment she begs for him to release her from his harem, his eyes flare in anger and for what seemed to be it, she had unknowingly received his wrath…”

There had been a reason why this story wasn’t told much to other families nor in history books, this was an under the wraps lore. Michizane Sugawara may stand proudly in the eyes of jujutsu sorcerers but to his own family, they were very much aware of what had gone down and what led to his insanity.

It’s one of the reasons as well why the high council of elders had to keep a close eye on Satoru especially when he grows older, they wouldn’t want another situation to arise like that.

Manifesting and creating such a powerful curse individual.

“...He had cut her lovers head, chopped his body to pieces and at the same night, in pure anger, stabbed her, in attempts to get rid of the children that lived within her womb…” he hopes to find a woman who is too different form the boy in his arms, maybe stop him from having such longing towards certain individuals, “...but he was too angry, too much in love that he could not see past reason and judgment...As he clung onto the dead concubines body, he ends up cursing the baby within...blaming them for all the misfortunes in his life, cursing to never see such an individual ever again…”

Strong shamans had always had to be careful with their words, especially if there was curse energy laced in between them. That was his ancestor’s fault, if he had left the body as is and hadn't clung to his fruitless love, maybe they wouldn’t have such a dark end and created such a monster.

The Gojo family had blood in their hands and they were just as responsible for everything that had happened. For if it weren’t for Michizane’s obsessive love and adoration towards the woman, the monster wouldn’t have existed in the first place.

“It was his mistake, Satoru…” he pursed his lips to a stifling sigh, it was hard to admit to many of the members of the Gojo Clan due to familial pride but if he had to be frank about the whole thing, it was clear who was in the wrong in the first place, “Years later, it had turned out, one of the twins had been very much alive...She was older, stronger, and killing everyone on sight...she clamored her way up those bloody mountains to become one of the most heinous serial killers in Jujutsu history. Michizane, realizing that despite the strength of her curse technique, couldn’t see her curse energy flowing within her body despite his six eyes... had then fallen into complete insanity once again, the memory of his dead lover and the children he had tried to rip out and curse, coming back to haunt him…”

That one name that plagued and soiled the clan’s name, that very same one that history needed to alter because in the end, their clan was the winners of that battle.

“...They called her Minazuki...because everywhere she went, there only would be the end…” he places his boy back in the cradle, tucking him carefully and making sure that the blankets weren’t too thick. The babe’s eyes slowly close and small mouth yawn so loudly, seemingly wanting to go to sleep yet the older Gojo doesn’t stop his story, “She was so, so powerful… Many trembled upon her name, they wanted her dead immediately and the Clan feared that the people would turn their backs on them if they knew why such a person existed and her shared connection with them…”

Satoru’s eyes are shut, sleep overtaking him. Peacefulness is only apparent.

“...In the end, she suffered a painful ending...After a six year long chase, a hunter was able to kill her...and Michizane...he lived longer, exiled and alone with everyone's backs turned on him, clearly still burdened by his sins and the dead lover…”

Finally, the long story had been over and his son laid to rest in his arms, his soft snores the only thing that could be heard. The middle aged man face softens, tension leaving it as his breathing turns deep and cleansing when he runs his fingers through his son's hair, “...It’ll be different for you, Satoru...You won’t have to suffer like him...I’ll find a way…” he whispers to his child, wanting to help him change his fate, “You’ll be okay…”

Placing the child back to the crib, with one last look, he quietly exits the room. There stood a man, one of his servants, standing there. He immediately bows down out of respect to the current master, “Gojo-sama,” he greets, “I’ve come to bear news…”

“Come,” he shuts the sliding doors, turning to the young man, “We shall talk on the way to my office…”

The pair makes their way in the hallways. The current master of the Gojo Clan has his mind still lingering on the story, the hunter hadn’t returned with a body and only had said that he left it burning in a cave.

A lot were saying that he was lying but it was clear that after her death, the killings ceased and no similar death came about. She was known to be brutal and inflicted a lot of mental torture. From accounts, she’d kill and bring them back to life, just to kill them again. It was a cycle of violence to get the Jujutsu sorcerers to look at her. Apparently, it was her own sick way of protesting.

“You made me into this, tried to cover me up to look good, now suffer the repercussions.”

“What do you have for me?” he sits down at his chair, leaning forward as the young man straightens his position and hands him a brown envelope.

“The L/N family, sir.” he finally utters, making known why he was here, “They’ve given birth to a girl.”

The man takes the folder, clearly appalled by the sudden news. They weren’t expecting you to be born just yet, “A premature?”

The young man nods, a slight grimace on his lips as he depicts the news to him, “Apparently she came out very healthy but the mother had suffered a bit of a problem while carrying them both...it seemed like there was a cord entanglement and it had choked and ultimately killed the boy in the womb causing a two-month early birth…” he explains, “The mother is fine but it seemed like she’ll be having a second infertility due to this incident…”

He takes out the piece of paper, paperwork of the bridal market had already been sent out to different Jujutsu Families. It seemed like the bidding was starting for the girl’s hand. He stared at the name written across there, Y/N L/N.The very future of the Gojo Clan would rest in this girl's hands and his son’s mentality, as well.

“Who's the highest?”

“Currently?” the young man inquired, tilting his head, “That would be the Kamo Clan with 450 million yen then the Zen’in’s of course with 350 million, Gojo-Sama. It seems like Kamo-sama wants to marry her himself when she’s old enough to have children, his wife is still having trouble with childbirth…”

The current head of the Kamo Clan was close to his age, he wonders what's running through that man’s head for betting himself to be her husband. Men were truly something else when it involved power dynamics and plays, it seemed like they’d try to ravage you. He’s rather self-aware of how foolish they can be.

The race was on for this one.

Like his son, you were unaware of the dangers that posed around you and how much people wanted you. His hands cup his mouth for a brief period, staring at the piece of paper in deep thought, “Bid at 500 million yen…” he signs the piece of paper casually, “If someone tries to one up the bid, add another fifty million to it…”

The young man almost yelps out loud at the sound of the price, just how serious were they with this sort of thing?

“Uh, Gojo-sama?” he squeaks, unsure if he should even ask about this. The older man snaps his gaze to the boy, wondering what the sudden inquiry was, “Why such a big amount of money?”

Indeed, although Y/N L/N will be known to be quite a woman in the future when she’s of age, that was too much of a big gamble for such a measly girl, the largest bid he has ever heard was around 450 million-- which was for her grandmother. He can’t believe how they’re willing to shell out such money.

The clan head leaned on his chair, back still straight as he steepled his fingers to the front. The sudden thought of Michizane Sugawara and how he hadn’t fallen in love with his arranged partner comes to mind. If he were to let these two not meet until their wedding day, there's a high chance he won’t fall in love and obsess over her. The most likely scenario would be he’d dislike the idea of being forced upon such things. Gojo’s never did like being controlled after all. He’ll even have to arrange that if they were to ever have children, she’d be living in separate parts of the home so they wouldn’t be able to see each other.

Yes, it would be a good idea if things led to that.

He’d also have to order them to not let him go out so much to meet people his age until he was in his collegiate years, maybe staying at home with the elders of the clan along with the wet nurses would let him avoid much social contact. By the end, he’ll probably dislike human contact if he’s only surrounded by unpleasant old men.

As for the harems, he’s hoping that the boy won’t ever take one in. He hadn’t taken one in, his father, and his father before him also hadn’t taken one in. He hopes his son will not end up like Michizane Sugawara, as well.

Falling for a woman who could never be his.

He’ll hope and pray for the best.

“For my son’s future,” he only explained, truly, he’d try to find ways to keep his son from that self-destructive ending, “She’ll keep him safe...I know she will…Keep an eye out when the bid goes up, alright?”

October, 2018

Nanami Kento was truly at his wits end.

Your sudden disappearance had been disconcerting. Just two weeks ago, Satoru had filed a missing persons report and when they scoured security tapes to check for locations, they only saw one; you were walking out of the subdivision on your own accord. You weren’t held at gunpoint, no kidnapping was involved, nor was there a third party hauling you out.

He had a lot of paperwork to do but his mind was elsewhere. He hadn’t seen you after you both had visited Yu Haibara and it was rather illogical but the first place he had visited was the gravesite of the young boy again after you went missing, he was right. You were there because he had seen the same pink carnations that you had given the boy back then. It’s a shame that there were no security cameras out there for him to look at.

He gives his temples a little massage as he paces down the hallways of the school. Satoru being Satoru had buried himself in his job, once again. If he wasn’t looking for you, you’d most likely see the shaman hacking curses heads off like pieces of paper.

Ichiji had pointed out that the last time he had seen such brutality was when Geto Suguru had passed away but this time, it became more brutal. He took on eight jobs by the weekend, coming back and teleporting in the middle of the office with scarlet tainted clothes, eyes lifeless and dull from the search of his wife that couldn’t seem to be found.

He’s on his way to visit the older man yet stops in his tracks when he finds Ieiri Shoko standing there, chewing the inside of her cheek with a cigar in her hands. Her tired brown eyes shift to the young blonde, “Yo,” she greets, nodding and whipping out her pack, “Wanna light?” she offered.

Kento hasn’t smoked in a while but this occasion called for it, he takes the half empty pack of malboro’s, placing the stick in between his lips, “Thanks.” he mumbles to his senior, taking the lighter and lighting it up, he takes one good whiff and a puff. The tantalizing hint of the lethargic, mind-numbing feeling is something he succumbs to for a brief moment in order to calm his nerves down. The air around is stiff and quite awkward since he has never talked that much with her even back then but Shoko doesn’t mind.

“Any news?”

Kento looks down at the cigar, tapping it lightly before placing it on his lips again, “None. even the six eyes won’t do…” he mumbles, “...Y/N is a ghost story.” he doesn’t want to say it but seeing as your cursed energy blended in well with an ordinary citizen, they’d have a harder time.

You were like the wind, you couldn’t be caught.

“Are you visiting Satoru?” Ieiri inquired, looking down at the brown parcel on his hand filled with take-out.

“Yaga had given him a day-off...the asshole’s been overworking himself…” he clicks his tongue in dismay, when he had heard Yaga’s order, he took it upon himself to grab something for him to eat and some of the paperwork related to Y/N’s disappearance for him to read through.

They’ve also enlisted the help of the local police in order to have their eyes everywhere but just like them, they had no luck. He’s not entirely sure why he’s hoping for their help, if jujutsu sorcerers couldn’t find you, how much more average humans?

Kento’s brows are scrunched together as he looks down at his shoes, “You think she’s alive?” Ieiri questions, tone blank and rather distant. It isn’t an offensive remark but simply the truth, Gojo Satoru had dozens of enemies who were after his head. Assassin’s who wanted to hurt him. What better way to get through him than his wife who is the apparent talk of the town because of her weak capabilities and her connection with the said shaman?

“I don’t know.” he honestly mumbled. Your cursed technique wasn’t competent for fighting anyone back, the only thing you had was a camouflage-like cursed energy but how far would that take you, really?

Nanami Kento wasn’t a pessimist.

He is a realist.

Stupid you, were you trying to get yourself killed? After that promise you made to each other? Going out there without anyone behind you warranted you a death sentence. You might as well have a sign stamped on your forehead with the words, ‘I’m here, kill me.’

“The higher-ups are concerned, they’ve already thrown their nose in.” Shoko sighed, grinding the cigar at the brick wall before flickering it to the ground, staring at it as if the answer was written everywhere, “Can you actually believe it? They’re just worried that she’ll be stopping the cycle of high cursed energy shamans…that their families won’t get to have a taste of it when her granddaughter is born again...” she shakes her head, brow upturned. There's a tinge of anger in her tone, probably directed to the elders.

Even Kento is rather irate about it but then again, what was he expecting, really? Those old men just wanted to have the power line within their grasp. if it ever went out of their sight, of course, they’d panic. It was an endless cycle of pain for women like you.

He knows how much suffering you had to go through, those moments where you had secretly told Yu and him about the things they’d teach you, about what your duties were supposed to be. How the word ‘No’ isn’t supposed to be in your dictionary and it sickened him to the point where he didn’t mind offering you to run away back when you were both teens.

The man looks at the smoke dissipating in the air, quiet for a moment, “I’m just wondering why she’d leave if she and Satoru are on good terms…” he recalls that time when he had seen you for the first time in years, genuine happiness is the only thing detected on your face as if you had everything in your life and you were satisfied with it. At that moment, he had actually thought that you had stopped running from everything, “...They were...happy…”

“I guess that’s what fucking Satoru up.” Ieiri shifts one leg to another, tilting her head to the side, “I could see how much he tried and went out of the way for Y/N...He was learning from past mistakes and walking on thin ice with her, something you don’t see that idiot doing… Suguru fucked him up real bad and he doesn’t want it to happen again…” she looks at the front for a brief moment, eyes zeroing on the butterflies as she clenches her jaw, “Whatever’s going through Y/N’s mind, right now...god, she better be alive after all this…”

Nanami Kento pauses mid-action. If this was all on purpose, would Satoru still even take you back? Was Gojo Satoru even forgiving enough to bring you back?

“Do you think Gojo-san would take her back?”

Shoko finally turns to him, “Satoru’s lips may say one thing but if I had to be honest,” she tilts her head, recalling her friend and his nature, “He’d drop everything to run back to Y/N…” she truthfully spoke.

She knew he’d do the same to Suguru, as well, before.

The man had lost so much and had only a few people in his life that he considered close to his heart, you were one of them. Ieiri knows that he may be angry now but he wouldn’t hesitate to return to your arms.

Soulmates or not, she’s never seen her friend be so struck by a certain individual. Gojo Satoru had never been keen or interested in women when they were both students, the occasional rendezvous here and there but they weren’t enough for him to stop and take a second look at, “I guess you could say it’s his weakness.” she adds, “That man can never let go when he finally has someone by his side.”

Kento’s gaze falls flat, taken aback by her words. The description of his senior throwing him off guard yet at the same time, it sort of made sense. How he never took in another partner nor a friend after Suguru Geto, he was a loyalist to those who stood next to him. He only drops the cigarette to the ground, grinding it with the soles of his shoes, “Let’s just hope she's alright though.”

Ieiri leaves him to his own devices, the tall man realizes that this was way past lunch time already and he needed to hurry to give all of this to Satoru. The conversation he had earlier had been on his mind while he was driving on his way to the older shaman’s house. As soon as he parks his car and exits it, he tugs his stuffy collar down, the skies getting grey and gloomy around him. A befitting weather he believes for the person he is about to see. It made his chest feel heavy as he lingered for a bit on the front door, doubt growing and stemming within, wondering if he was doing the right thing.

He’s never been one for comfort.

What consolation could he actually give to a man whose wife had willingly walked out on him? Apologies were out of the question, pity as well since he knew Gojo Satoru wasn’t the type of man to want such things. Knowing him, he probably wouldn’t want his company. He shakes his head, stifling a sigh as lets himself in.

The first thing that he notices when he comes in is the faint but unmistakable sound of Tchaikovsky's swan lake being played through the stereos, the few books about philosophy and history being laid out carefully on the table alongside the familiar fresh chrysanthemums decorated as a centerpiece, the pictures of you both still hung and were at their normal place, and there was also that hint of the very familiar vanilla and lavender scent.

The blonde man’s jaw tightened as his legs felt weak to the point where he thinks he’ll be coming down with a fever, he feels sluggish when he realizes that Satoru had done everything to make the house look like you were still there, living with him, as if you hadn’t gone missing.

His gaze shifts to the glass door to find the older senior squatting at the garden, taking care of the garden and watering some of the flowers to maintain its beauty. Nanami places the take out on the table where there were plates set for two and it takes a lot of self-restraint to not just walk out because everything screamed a depressing atmosphere.

He doesn’t need to let his presence be known as he slides the glass doors open, Satoru had probably been aware he was there the moment he had entered his property. He leans behind the walls, not greeting him first but observing him and how he was holding up physically, “You placed the food,” Satoru broke the silence first, “You can leave now. I’ll be back on commission tomorrow.”

Nanami, instead, ignores him and just takes a seat at one of their outdoor chairs, “I didn’t know you did good at gardening.” He switches the subject instead.

“Figured that if she’d be back she’d want her flowers to be alive.” was all he replied. He takes the fertilizer and shovels it to the soil, making sure not to put too much. His voice doesn’t sound light or joking as usual, “What’s that on your hands?” he turns to face him, gaze trickling down to the brown envelope.

“Information. Police report.” He's ready to hand it over to him but Satoru just returns to his activity, snipping out the dead leaf and pulling out the growing weeds next to it harshly.

“Keep it.” he huffed. The older shaman is aware how useless they were in this state, you practically disappeared from the sights of many as if you hadn’t existed in the first place, “They can’t find her, as well, right? That report’s just empty.”

Nanami looks downward, his brows pulling in as he takes it back and puts the folder next to him. He’s unsure of what to say next. Should he try to express his sympathy to him now? Or should he leave without saying goodbye?

“Out with it, Nanami. What do you wanna say?” Satoru states out loud, finally standing up and taking the gardening gloves out to toss it to the side. His eyes are filled with nothing but despondence and lackluster energy that surrounds him.

Gojo Satoru is waiting for him to say it, the disappointment from your friend and the blame. How this was all his apparent fault because he must’ve not treated you right. That he was a fucked-up. Did they think he was stupid? He’s seen how Megumi has been avoiding his gaze after that day or the fact that Nanami Kento was here, right now with eyes pressed firmly on him as if drawing a hole between his head.

“I’m sorry this happened to you.” your friend only said, sighing.

He only laughs and shakes his head, looking down at his hand, flexing them as if he was still holding yours in between them, “Right,” he stops, nodding, clearly dismayed with the response instead, “At least she had the guts to say goodbye to Yu Haibara, right? Not her husband.” There was resentment there, jealousy even but Nanami doesn’t say anything else because he recalls the first time it had happened before when he found out about Haibara and you.

Being the receiving end of Gojo Satoru is truly scary for he could do anything out of pure rage yet he remains on the spot. It was obvious how everything was taking a toll on him already.

He expects more of him expressing his vexation out loud though but the white-haired man only trudges to his side, taking a seat next to him with his back slumped. Eyes drawing forward at the flower patches that he has been taking care of personally these past two weeks, “She proposed.” Satoru mumbled, “She asked me to marry her that morning. I got a ring because I wanted to do it right...” He remembers it as if it was yesterday and he wonders how you could make him feel like the best man in the world and at the same time, the most unlucky one.

He pokes the inside of his cheek before biting it down harshly, leaning forward, “I tried, Nanami.” was all he could mumble out because he doesn’t know what else to say. Maybe he had some minor setbacks here and there but it was something that you could both talk about calmly, right? You didn’t need to go up and leave just like that.

You didn’t need to be like air, someone who he could never catch between his fingers.

“I know…” was all his friend could utter.

Satoru is unaware of how to feel. When he realized that you left on your own accord, he felt relieved that you were okay at first. It’s only seconds later that he realizes the gravity of the situation that he was in. He was in the middle of the void of the unknown, falling, with no one to catch him.

Moments later, he’s being questioned by the local police if he had done anything abusive or if he had gone so far to instigate marital rape.

He felt like a snake had latched onto him, constricting him so tightly because he couldn’t even respond to them.

He’s just as clueless as they were.

Of course, he was happy that no one laid a hand on you, happy that you were safe — but you ran away and vanished without a single trace. How does that all fit in on this large puzzle? What happened to staying with him until the end? What happened to being by his side?

“If you’re done here, you can leave.” was all Satoru could remark to the young blonde, not wanting to talk about this anymore. He’s not in the mood to shed his emotions bare to them or anyone for that matter, the only person he could ever do that to was you and you were gone from his grasp.

“Gojo-san…” Nanami tries to say something but it falls to deaf ears, he just returns to the other side of the flower patch to continue his work.

“I know you're busy.” he acknowledged, it had been tight these days. Something was brewing and he should be doing his responsibility -- actually, he’d gladly do it. The people, on the other hand, had ordered him to take a rest for a while, “I’ll see you, tomorrow.”

The blonde does not say anything more, instead, he leaves the man squatting there to take care of those blooming daisies that smile for him.

As he enters the car, ready to go on his last job for the day, the rain starts pouring harshly and he’s only reminded of that depressing day wherein he had to tell you of the news of Yu Haibara’s death. It makes him stop and park the car in a screeching halt so suddenly. His eyes shut tight. He throws his head back on the head rest. The man has felt like he’s aged an additional twenty years with what’s been going on, “You better be okay, Y/N.” is all he muttered to no one in particular.

Megumi Fushiguro has his eyes fixated on the mangled corpse, half of his arm looking like it had been chopped off or eaten by something.

The dampness of the room, the pervasive odor of the unknown is enough to make him grab a handkerchief in his pocket to cover his nose. There seemed to be no struggle involved since everything seemed to be in place and the blood hadn’t spluttered everywhere meaning he either knew the person or they hadn’t tried to put up much of a fight since they knew they’d lose.

“Christ,” Nobara mumbled, she too, had taken out a handkerchief, “Fuck, that smells….”

“No kidding.” Itadori frowned, “I would say poor guy but apparently this dude’s had it coming, Ichiji-san said he’s bad news...Black market dealer to bad guys…Why were we called here?” he adds, tilting his head to the side.

“He deals with bounty hunters and assassins among other things…” Megumi walks towards the remains, the smell growing stronger as he walks closer that even the handkerchief couldn’t cover it. It seemed like he had suffered a few marks on his legs, as well. They were perforated by something sharp. The trafficker was allegedly here to make a deal with a mysterious client and there was an apparent surge of cursed energy in the area, “...And there were remnants of a grade-one cursed spirit.” he adds. He wonders if he had been cursed or had carried any cursed objects on him but apparently all he held when he had come in was something large and swaddled in a violet cloth.

One that seemed like a grade one cursed spirit.

He returns his perceiving gaze to the stab wounds on the upper thigh, they didn’t look like an ordinary person was able to do this. Maybe his clientele saw him still alive and stabbed him out of pure mercy. It would be a pretty grotesque site to walk into. Perhaps, it could have been an assassin? They could have then taken the product and ran away.

“Hm…” Yuuji bends down, “You think he was dealing with a cursed object and that was the one that disappeared? They probably had something attached to it and when he had passed it on, he passed the curse to whoever sold it.”

“Yah!” Nobara has her hands on her hips, “What is this, the ring? Japanese horror? Does stuff like that still exist? If what Itadori says is right, we have to find the clientele who stole it. They might get killed like this.”

The raven-haired almost wants to roll his eyes and yell at the two idiots behind him. He couldn’t think well. It still didn’t make sense that he was stabbed in the leg if the curse had killed him. He’s sure the clientele didn’t need to hurt the man anymore because he was probably long dead from the bleeding. He squints his eyes in deep thought, “We have to find the clientele...I think whoever got the object might be in danger…” Megumi finally stands up.

“What do you think the object is?” Yuuji prodes ploddingly behind his friend, “You think it’s a charm?”

“Stupid, what if it was a finger?” Nobara suggests, “Don't Sukuna’s fingers cost something these days?”

The pink-haired boy’s face only crinkles in disgust, he wasn’t exactly aware that the gourmet fingers were even worth anything. They looked, smelled, and tasted kind of nasty. He wondered what kind of person would pay such an amount for it.

“By the way,” Nobara’s eyes turn forward, “How’s sensei? Any news on Y/N-san?” she hadn’t spent as much time with you unlike the two boys but you were a kind individual who wouldn’t seem to want to hurt a fly. You disappearing had clearly caused havoc since you weren’t a fighter, unlike the women she has met so far. She couldn’t exactly judge you for being soft-spoken and gentle despite the barbarity of the world around you.

She just guessed that you were part of the unlucky ones like that stupid Mai Zen’in.

“You think I’d be here if I found something?” Megumi had been bothered, it was too obvious towards the pair. Ever since Gojo Satoru had come in the next day with a despondent figure, footsteps not as upbeat as before, nor voice not as buoyant as usual, they knew something had happened.

They’ve never seen the older man affected by something, especially this, outwardly.

They were even left in the care of Yuuji’s mentor, Nanami Kento because apparently, Gojo Satoru had suddenly been needed at the field for a moment. He’s reported to be back in the school by next week.

For the first time in a while, Fushiguro Megumi feels absolutely burdened by a certain responsibility towards another person. Someone who he had shared no blood ties with or whatsoever. He felt like it was his fault and his responsibility to take you home safely. He was there and he noticed yet he didn’t pry harder.

It doesn’t help the complexity of the situation, their was also a series of events he had taken note of. If he could back track what had happened these past few weeks before your disappearance, maybe he could find something of use.

He then turns to Itadori, he’s been thinking of asking about what had happened between them when he visited you. Maybe he noticed it, as well. This could also lead him to some hints about you and where you could have possibly gone or what you were feeling. You had looked like life had turned around to a certain high degree when he had met you that day.

He’s about to open his mouth but the familiar voice of Ichiji has him pressing his lips firmly together.

He’ll have to ask him about it next time.

“Megumi-san,” he calls out, phone in hand, “We’ve identified the cursed object that he was dealing with…” he fixed his glasses that hung loosely on his nose bridge, a troubled look laced on his features, “It was something stolen back in the early nineties while it was being transported to the Gojo Estate…” he informed them.

Nobara blinks, what a coincidence. Was it something of her sensei’s family?

“Did you contact Gojo-sensei about it?” Megumi inquired, suddenly turning serious whilst Yuuji had his arms crossed behind him, listening in closely.

“I did,” he shaked his head, “He’s not aware so I called in one of the elders, the bandits must’ve thought that it was important...but it’s just laced heavily with negative curse energy and they try to keep it sealed at the bottom of their estate…” he whips out his phone, reading a message, “Apparently it’s an antique from the Heian era…”

“They said it was pretty big…” Itadori Yuuji exclaims, his hands far apart from each other to motion just how large it was, “And he didn’t seem to want to touch it with his bare hands since he was wearing gloves and wrapping it around a cloth.”

“He must’ve known it was cursed then.” Nobara taps her index finger against her lip, a mild ‘hm’ can be heard, “Do we know what we're looking for?”

“A katana,” Ichiji blinks, “An old, rusty katana…”

Soft fingertips brush past the taut of his muscles and the fabric that clung to his skin, very familiar ones that almost have him stir on his side of his bed, the room around him had been bright as if he had woken up later than expected, “Satoru?” The sound of your voice is enough for him to shift to his left, he slowly adjusts his blurry vision to find you there, sitting on the edge, hands reaching out to caress his cheek, “Good morning…” you greeted him, just like the last time he had heard that voice.

You’re here.

You’re home.

“Y/N?” His voice is hoarse. There is truly nothing that he wishes these days but to see those pretty e/c ones staring down at him in the early hours of the morning, he wasn’t supposed to feel this strongly for a person and he’s been truly trying these past two weeks to hold himself back because it’s what is expected of him but whenever he falls to the familiar covers of your shared bed, he can always feel sleep overtaking him and as he shuts his eyes, all he sees is you, frequenting his dreams, “I...are you finally home?” he asks, voice cracking slightly. Hopelessly wishing this was real.

Yet you slowly shake your head to the side.

“It’s time to wake up, Satoru.” You continued, “I’m not here anymore.” pulling your hand away from him and before Satoru could even reply or hold out his hand, his eyes shot open, completely awake. The room is immersed in complete darkness, the bed next to him is cold, empty. There is no companion, no you. There is only him surrounded by fragments of you.

He takes one shallow breath after another, trying to collect himself as he slowly sits up. The sound of his alarm ringing along with a few text messages is the only light source in the room; one from nanami, one from ieiri, another from a secretary of the Gojo Clan. They were all about you. He runs his hands through his hair, messing it up even further.

It’s mid October and it’s been two weeks since you had vanished without a single trace. Satoru had tried his hardest but how could he even find you when he couldn’t even see you? Your cursed energy had always been an abnormal one to begin with.

In a crowd, for every fifty people in there, at least one fourth of them had the same type of weak curse energy as you. It had been so plain, so mundane, that he wondered just how the hell would his six eyes even work for it wasn’t even usable to begin with since you matched almost every single being out there in Japan.

“Ha…” if things didn’t even make it any worse, the security cam footage of the subdivision had you leaving there with nothing but a small backpack in that pretty dress.

You didn’t even look like you were being forced out of your will to leave him. It looked like you left with a sound body and mind. He places one hand on top of his head. What did that even mean? You asking for his hand then leaving him, right after? What sort of fucked up response was that after? Everything was just the way it was, as well.

It was an ordinary day.

Where did it all go wrong?

Aside from looking for you, he has been burying himself more on work. It was a pretty good distraction from everything. It only got bothersome whenever he saw Megumi. Obviously, the kid had done nothing wrong. It’s just, whenever he sees him, he’s reminded of you and a big part of him feels like his stomach does those flips that were enough to make him feel sick on the inside.

Megumi may have taken notice of it because he hasn’t approached his teacher after, as well. In fact, he hasn’t been talking about you to anyone. There's a scrunched-up look of disappointment written on his facial features every single time when he looks to see his teacher. He’s not sure if it’s directed to him or at himself because, like him, the boy was one of the last few people to accompany you before your disappearance.

Satoru slowly lugs himself out of his bed, body heavy like he was carrying a ton behind him. His feet slowly pads through the cold floorings. He has to move. He can’t sit idly like this.

He stops short in the middle of your room, the abyss and silence had been something he couldn’t get used to anymore. Every morning, you’d wake up first and pull the curtains out to have some sun in then you’d wake him up after.

Each time he’s alone in the four corners of your home, all he remembers is you and as much as it leaves a bitter aftertaste on his mouth, he can’t help but shut his eyes tight to reminisce about it.

The lingering kisses, mumbles of I love you in the break of dawn when he hugs you from behind, your warm body laying next to him, the remembrance of the smell of hot chocolate that you had your own secret recipe to, the feeling of your hair on his fingertips when he’d help you with it in the morning, and the sound of your heart beat that he’d always listen to.

He wants to stay far away from here.

He wants to turn away from his own home that he bought for you to get away from all that chaotic situations back in the estate yet at the same time, as much as he wants to, he can’t bring himself to live in his apartment.

Satoru wants to remain where he could see every memory of you, even just through the pictures and the personal items you had left. He wants to take care of those stupid plants, the ones you had left behind, in case you wanted to come home to him despite it seemingly being impossible already.

The shaman felt like he was chasing pavements on this one --- like he was trying to achieve something with nothing but blind hope.

This made the situation all too familiar and he feels the bile on his throat come up because he knows the ending of this one.

His large figure passes by your vanity, everything seemed in its place. No jewelry was taken by the looks of it.

His hands slowly trace the products on the table, from the small creams to the makeup. Then it stops at the familiar copy of the children’s book he has seen you read at the bathtub. Momotaro. He takes it from the table, opening the book and staring at the boring blank pages, “The only time that I’ll let go is when you will…” he feels his jaw tighten when he remembers your words, his vision narrowing to the whites of the pages, “other than that, I’ll love you with all I can and all I have… remember that…” he lets out one sardonic laugh, tightening his grip on the book when he remembers your words that night.

You, despite your promises, are just a liar. A selfish one who didn’t care for others except yourself. Stay with him until the end? Walk with him in those paths?

What a fucking joke.

“You liar.” he says to no one in particular, he feels his body turn hot and heart pound as he drops the book to the ground, anger suddenly pulsating through his veins when he recalls your words, “You fucking liar, Y/N.” with all his might and for the first time in two weeks, Satoru vents out his anger at those things he tried not to touch since he was hoping it was some sick cruel prank you had pulled.

He’s starting to realize just how pointless everything seemed.

For the first time, he throws a tantrum that was unlike him.

He takes your personal things; from the lustrous and expensive jewelry to those stupid facial products like your makeup and body scents. All of it is violently slid off the table, all thrashed and pushed everywhere. The shattering sounds of cosmetics are all over, the product cracking in bits and pieces like his heart, your familiar vanilla and lavender scent grows stronger when the perfume bottles shatter and it haunts the room like a ghost. The smell becomes repugnant enough to elicit a panging headache.

You were everywhere and he resents the fact that he can’t let go of everything like you did so easily.

He felt like dirt to you, like he was simply just a fleck of dust within your radius. In your eyes, he was probably nothing but a trifle that you needed to get rid of. Maybe he shouldn’t have kept running after you in the first place nor should he have tried to understand you and what you were going through because right now, he despises how you took everything so easily from him and he’s left with nothing but broken shard memories of you.

He takes your clothes, rumpling everything on the ground, ripping those beautiful dresses that he adored on you. Taking out every single frustration there. Every jab, every question on why you left when he tried.

He tried.

He knew, deep in his heart, that he did try this time. What he couldn’t do before, he did. He went the extra mile. For you. Only for you. He had every right to be mad right now, didn’t he?

Yet why did it seem like this was all pointed elsewhere? Why couldn’t he actually hate you from the bottom of his heart?

For the first time in two weeks, the shaman stands there, amidst the mess he has created. Eyelids turning hot and bloodshot, his breathing ragged, lower lip tightly drawn between his teeth as his body quakes violently. One hand on the hairpin he had given you during that night on Sendai, one he grips on tightly so that it leaves a mark on his pale skin. There’s a loud pound that can only be heard in his ears when he feels the rims of his eyes turning wet.

Who was he kidding?

He lets out another sad laugh.

Maybe he hadn’t tried harder. If he had, you would still be here, kissing him and rubbing his back with the promise of a delicious breakfast for the both of you. Maybe you’d be planning the wedding or scolding him about how horrible he was for trying to kill your weird plants because he had put too much fertilizer these past two weeks,

He just wanted to desperately know what he did wrong this time.

Was it him as a person?

Did you finally realize that you didn’t actually have feelings for him? That you felt that your relationship was a farce because you had no choice but to love him back? Were you scared to deny him on his face? Did you not trust him enough to be honest with your actual feelings?

Was he really just some cheap, second-hand replacement?

Each night since you left him in this home that he tried to build, he asks himself that very same question. Reflecting on his actions like a sinner yet he only arrives at the conclusion that he was unaware of his transgressions.

Why couldn’t you just tell him?

He could fix himself if you did.

He could try, if it was you, he’d try.

You could even ask for the space you wanted after, he just needed you to be on his line of sight. That’s all that he wants. He could take you somewhere far from him, even. You didn’t need to do that.

“I hate you, Y/N.” he sinks down on his knees, bringing the hairpin close to his mouth and clinging onto it like a lifeline, “I fucking hate you so much…” he mumbles to no one in particular, cheeks turning wet from the tears that he couldn't shed these past two weeks.

And as much as he said those words out loud, trying to proclaim them with all his chest out, they were truly just another round of lies because the only person that he truly detested at that moment was himself.

He hated himself for holding onto you and loving you despite what you just did to him.

#jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk angst #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #jjk #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen gojo #satoru x reader #saturo x y/n #gojo saturo x reader #gojo x you #📝📝.minazuki mini series #hostclub.adulting

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quirklessidiot · 3 years

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title : minazuki [16: sweet things] pairing : gojo satoru x f!y/n Genre: angst, arranged-marriage au, mystery/thriller, mature, enemies-to-lovers-ish, and very slow burn (canon compliant-ish for ch-0 to the anime)

Summary: In which Y/N L/N is placed under a union she has no choice but to partake for the sake of her survival.

Warnings: language, mentions of infidelity (concubines), mentions of gore, brief mentions of child destruction, mentions of classism, sukuna being a homewrecker, mentions of obsessed and unhealthy love, mentions of assasination (&attempts), non-canon compliant details (but still heavy spoilers for the manga, basically just added my touch to it <3)

notes: ah yes. finally. chapter 17 & 17.5 (the next one) is separated into two perspectives <3 ill be moving satoru’s perspective on monday next week (since i updated this one earlier) and y/n’s on sunday yay this bitch couldnt wait for the final reveal ugh

series masterlist || taglist closed ||

CHAPTER SUMMARY breakfast for two and a marriage proposal for one.

“...The years passed quickly by and the child grew to be fifteen years of age. He was taller and far stronger than any other boys of his own age, he had a handsome face and a heart full of courage, and he was very wise for his years. The old couple’s pleasure was very great when they looked at him, for he was just what they thought a hero ought to be like…”

-momotaro , excerpt.

Snip.

The heads of the freshly bloomed Chrysanthemum fall to the ground, the sound of the garden scissors are the only thing you can hear. Everything around you is muted. The world outside is amiss as if you were the only one left. A pained stare directs on the ground, the beautiful scarlet color tainting the green pastures.

You only stand there in silence, your posture slumping forward as the equipment on your hand feels like heavy steel.

There's, what seemed to be, darkness forming in your eyes, filling it to the brim as you drop the scissors to the ground. Your lips part to a small sigh, the color of the world around seemingly turning grey as confusion and layers of unsettling emotions bother you since that time Itadori Yuuji visited you that day.

“Uh, Y/N-san what happened? What was-”

“Nothing.” you cut him off swiftly, a strained smile on your lips, “Yuuji, promise me you won’t tell Satoru about this…” you take his hand, gripping it between your cold ones, tenacity only filling your eyes as they dart toward his worried-filled ones, the sudden load of new information scarring him.

“W-why? Y/N-san shouldn’t we tell-”

“Because it’s nothing that concerns you or him…” you try to reassure him, not letting go of his hand, “Ryomen won’t bother you anymore after this. I’ve…” you paused, thinking of the right words, “it’s done… it’s my problem, alright?”

There doesn’t seem to be any fear tinge on your words but something else; from your downturned facial features to your distant and dull eyes down to your stooped posture.

When you were to meet the king of curses, the first thing people would feel is their feet rooted to the spot along with the inability to speak because of such presence but instead, he only sees a despondent individual in front of him. Someone who seems to have lost everything at that certain moment.

“Y/N-san…”

If it wasn’t even possible, your grip on him tightens and Yuuji feels like his bones are about to break with such an insane display of strength.

“Ryomen.” you suddenly uttered to the curse living in the boy's body, the veins on your neck becoming engorged, “You promised. The boy would forget everything.” your voice sounds rough, gaze is flinty as if you were still looking at the cursed individual and not him. This is something he’s not familiar with for he only saw you as this altruistic and compassionate individual. Yuuji’s blood could only turn cold at the sudden release of curse energy. It was as astounding as the ones he had fought on the field. Something was wrong, “...He doesn’t need to know this and carry this burden…” your grip on him turns weak.

“Y/N-san…We shouldn’t - please, don’t do this-” Yuuji’s eyes turn wide, realizing how heavy the information was and what Sukuna Ryomen was going to do to him. Truly, he wasn’t sure how to react yet but before he could utter a single word to change your mind, he dropped to the ground.

The room seems to have turned to nothingness around you, as if you were in those nightmares yet this time, this was your reality. There were no wake-up calls needed, no harsh pinches, and no Satoru to give you a warm hug. Just the cold, harsh slap of the truth.

This was the only time you could shut your eyes tight and finally let those tears wet your cheeks and release the burdens of your heart.

“Y/N-san?” the very familiar voice of Fushiguro Megumi pops out and you immediately straighten yourself up, turning to him. Your withered features make him go quiet, his eyebrows drawn together as his emerald green gaze turns worry-filled.

A few days ago, Itadori Yuuji had come back to the dorms saying that he had accidentally fallen asleep in your home and woke up in your living room with the memory of only stuffing his face full with cake.

“Megumi.” you tilt your head, picking yourself up quickly as you approach him. The faux persona is something you pull off quickly to show that you were fine and alright, “I see you let yourself in.”

“Gojo-sensei lent me a key.” he raised it, “Told me I was basically a regular back then…”

“Oh…” You nod, completely understanding what your husband meant. Megumi had definitely felt like a part of the family already since he kept coming to visit especially in times when you didn’t expect it but needed the company. The young ravenette peeks to the side.

“Y/N-san? What happened?” he frowns, pointedly staring at the reds that littered the ground,

“Aren’t those one of your favorites?”

“I- not really, not anymore…I was thinking of some redecorating...” you turn to him, ignoring the flowers, "I haven’t baked anything new this week so I might not have anything for you…” The death womb situation has been taking Satoru’s time so there were days when you wouldn’t see him and there were also days when you’d wake up to find your husband lazily sprawled across you, head buried deep on the curvatures of your neck. He’d leave in a hurry, peppering your face with kisses and telling you that he’d make up for the time soon before leaving the door.

“It’s fine, I just...I just wanted to check up on you.” Megumi frowned, trailing next to you and sliding the glass doors to the kitchen for you, “I heard Itadori came by here…”

You almost tense up at the mention of his friend. You tuck a fallen strand of your hair as you approach one of the cupboards, “Did he say anything?” your mouth seems dry, sudden parchedness at the sudden news of the boy. Your heart thumping to the point of an ache that Ryomen hadn’t kept his end of the bargain.

“No,” Megumi slumped, sitting down at one of the chairs in the front of the counter, “He just said that he felt pretty bloated, apparently you fed him too much cake?” your lips part slightly to release a small sigh of relief.

“I was worried.” you truthfully replied, putting down some cups in front of him for some homemade iced tea, “He had come down with a horrible stomach ache.”

“He’s stupid that’s what.” Megumi tucks his head on top of his hand, “He should really be careful of passing out in front of you, though. Sukuna has a weird habit of popping out. It’s good that it didn't happen to you.” he points out, patiently watching you pour him a drink like a small boy.

You could only recall the moments last year wherein he’d accompany you after a hot day of gardening under the prickly heat of the sun, how he’d not even complain the slightest and even enjoy the drink after. It made you suddenly smile.

“Y/N-san, you’re acting weird.”

You stifled out a chuckle, “Are you going to ask me if I’m pregnant again, Megumi?” you teased, wishing that you could shut your eyes tight and everything would go back to what it was a year ago, a time wherein things weren’t as complicated as they were and you didn’t have to feel like fate, the world, and almost everything was against you.

Megumi crosses his arms, puffing out his cheeks in annoyance at your joke, “That only happened twice, Y/N-san.”

“Too many times, I believe.” you bring the cup to your lips, shaking your head.

“Whatever,” he grumbled, making you only chuckle louder at his response, “I seriously think that you and Gojo-sensei are weird but you seem to fit each other so well.” he admits, taking another sip of his drink. It was hard to picture it a year ago when he was in the middle of everything that looked like anything but a love-filled marriage.

His sensei with his rather off-putting attitude that sometimes ticked Megumi off because you didn’t seem to deserve to be the receiving end of those reactions and you, with your saccharine coated smiles and constant assurance that you were simply alright with that cold treatment.

“Do we?” you put the glass down, looking at the liquid and the bubbles that simmer around it.

“I just…” Megumi paused, looking up to face your e/c ones, “I’m happy you guys have common ground now…” he’s shy but you can tell that he means those words very much and it only adds to the growing pain in your chest.

“Ah,” you nod, maintaining the small smile, “I guess that’s what happens with someone you love dearly, Megumi.”

Your tone is softer, quite distant as well as if there was something holding you back. It doesn’t escape Megumi’s line of sight, he leans in closer, arms closed and hands tucked underneath, “Are you,” he blinks, “....really okay, Y/N-san? You haven’t been looking too good these days.”

“Of course,” you try to believe those words as well, a lie you desperately wanted to believe yourself, “You’ve asked me that twice, I’m starting to think that you’re the one that’s overthinking.”

Megumi doesn’t want to comment on just physical appearances nor attitude shifting but there was just something so different about you at this moment. Like a water filled to the brim, you seem to have had enough and everything seems to have been spilling out. The boy wonders if he should call his teacher about this.

“I just...you look tired…”

“My,” you mumbled, “Didn’t Satoru teach you that you shouldn’t talk to a woman like that?”

“Not really,” maybe he shouldn’t overthink and that this was just a trick of the light. His teacher’s busy and he had specifically highlighted that if it wasn’t needed, he shouldn’t be disturbed. It might just be the early Monday blues or something, “Have you seen him?”

You only let out another round of laughter, “I think he talks to me just fine. He’s an absolute sweetheart…” The raven-haired boy’s face only contorts to disgust as he pokes his tongue out. The sudden public displays of affection would definitely need a time of adjustment.

You, on the other hand, seem to have an abrupt memory of how your relationship with this child began. You remembered the sun kissing your skin that day, the panicked appearance of a boy demanding to see his teacher as fury descended upon him, and the scratched knee he seemed to have ignored because his mind was on his sister the entire time. The shy boy who denied treatment and now, freely came over like he had lived here as well and became a rather, permanent household member.

“It has been a year since we've met, right ‘gumi?”

There is sudden seriousness that comes around the room when you shift the subject. Megumi tilts his head slightly to the side, “Um, yeah...why?” it’s awkward to reminisce for him and he wonders why you’re suddenly pulling up that sort of topic in broad daylight.

“Nothing,” you swirl around the liquid in the glass, “Just, time flies…” you suddenly chuckled, “Thanks for keeping me company, Megumi…” you recall those random hours where he’d pop in when he had the time and kept you company in that big estate when Hana wasn’t hired yet and you felt like no one was there for you. The boy came out to be like a son in your eyes, something you’ll probably never have and never should have in this lifetime.

It sometimes made you wish that things were easier in this lifetime. A family, somewhere far away from all of this chaotic situation. Your own child to raise under the heat of the sun with your husband not needing to have that burden of the world on his back and you, with your personal problem. It’s all too good, too happy, and such a common dream that many could have within their grasp but with everything that’s going on around you, you wouldn’t be able to have such things.

You can’t even dream of such things because whenever you shut your eyes at night, you only see other things.

“Oh,” his brows furrowed together in confusion, “You’re welcome?” he’s not exactly sure why you said that. He’s about to ask what that was all about but his phone starts ringing before he could even open his mouth. He whips his phone out, curiosity is replaced by annoyance and a roll of the eyes, “Ah shit,” he cursed underneath his breath, “I have to go Y/N-san. The three of us have another mission, I think they want all hands on deck for the death womb that Itadori, Kugisaki, and I fought. Apparently they found something similar.”

“Alright,”

“You’re…” Megumi tilts his head slightly, about to say something but another ding from his cellphone is enough to have him curse underneath his breath once again, stupid Itadori, “Bye Y/N-san…” he says.

“Take care, Megumi. Try not to fall.”

The boy wonders what's with the warning. It’s a rather out of place one considering that Megumi wasn’t an all that clumsy individual. He’ll have to ask you about it some other time, he gives you one last wave then makes a run for it. The door to your home closes with a soft bang.

You’re left alone there, staring at the empty cups.

You let out one heavy sigh.

One more.

When your husband comes home later that night, you make sure to be wide awake and sitting ready for him at the couch. There's a book on your hand and warm arms to welcome him as always, you could only shut your eyes tight when he sweeps in to give you a kiss, soft lips brushing yours and whispers of ‘I miss you’s’ and ‘I love you’s’

The night is noiseless as always, everything seems just like yesterday, just like the tomorrow’s you hoped it to be. Just like how it should be.

“How was your day?”

The only light source is the nightlight yet despite this, your gaze remains fixated on your husband's face.

“Same as always,” you watch him come out of the bath, hair down and tips wet as he hands you the bath towel. As usual, he sits down in the middle of your legs and lays on your thigh as you run your soft fingertips through the tufts of his white hair, smoothing them down before you dry them up, “Did anyone visit today?” he inquired.

“Just Megumi. It seems like you’re all busy.”

“Mhm” he hummed, “How’s Yuuji? I heard you overfed him and he developed a stomach bug.”

“When ‘Gumi came by,” you want to shut the topic off quickly, not wanting to say anything more since you’re sure he’ll be able to detect the lies in your voice. He didn’t need to know about the conversation you had with the cursed user nor did he need to know why Itadori Yuuji seek you out himself, “he told me that he’s fine. I think I should stop feeding him too much.” you tried to joke, the memory of meeting the king of curses slowly scratches back to the surface, making your lips turn to a grimace.

“Yeah.” he nods, leaning back to rest his head on your thigh again, “Maybe next time.”

The soft breathing and the way his hair tickles your skin is enough to make a sad smile dance on your lips, your body turning cold as if someone had dumped a bucket of ice on you in the middle of winter. You’re hesitant to touch him anymore, like glass, you fear that you’d break him.

“Satoru?” he only hums a response, your fingertips burning as you touch his neck, “Are you going to leave again tomorrow?” he takes your hand on his, drawing it close to him to give it a peck.

“Yeah.” he sounds apologetic, tired even, since he had to give you an automatic response, “Sorry about that. I’ll try to come home around this time. I can have the weekend off as well-” he tried to explain, clearly frazzled that he’s been only seeing you at these late nights.

“It’s fine.” you cut him off, holding onto his hand, “Don’t overwork yourself. I was just asking.”

Satoru doesn’t turn around, instead, he keeps his mouth shut. He’s quite scared about everything. If he had to be honest, he wonders if his job is getting in the way now. He barely gets to see you and all you get to do as bonding is a quick fuck or a cuddle session if you were too tired in the morning with breakfast. Sometimes, he can’t even do either and is only able to give you a dozen kisses and broken promises that he’ll be home earlier, “Are you sure?” He doesn't want to ask that question, he’s scared that you’d lie to make him feel alright.

“Of course,” you whispered to him, “I told you, it’s alright.”

You’ve come to notice the anxiety your husband had in regards to pleasing personal individuals in his life, how there seemed to be a copious amount of fear because he’d disappoint them or do something wrong. You’re not blind to this. It had probably been the effect of suddenly having his friend disappear on him and after that, having the said man dying in front of him.

Unlike many, it’s easy to see how much that one person had the effect on him. Like Yu Haibara was to you. Geto Suguru had probably been your husband’s turning point in his life, as well.

“Am I a bad husband?”

“Never.” he feels you snake your arms around him, hugging him tightly from behind, “I think you’re the best man I could ever marry, Satoru.” there is truly no lie tinged in those words. You’d like to think that in many lifetimes, you’d end up with this man in your arms. He was the epitome of perfection, a missing puzzle that you didn’t know you needed, “May it be in this life or the next…” the last part comes out in a whisper but it's loud enough for him to hear. You could feel the warmth of his neck encompass you as you bury yourself there, hugging him tighter as if the world was ending tomorrow and you’d never be able to see him ever again.

“You’re cheesy.” he tries to find his rhythm, wanting to give you an equally good response but he comes up with nothing.

Satoru had always been fond of your words, especially with how unshy you were regarding affection. You weren’t afraid to be open and vocal about them, it had probably been one of the reasons why he kept falling into the rabbit hole deeper.

“It’s only right,” you raise your head, giving his temple then his cheek a kiss, “I think you’re the only person who can make me feel this way.” Satoru turns to you, nose scrunched up slightly.

“That line sounds awfully familiar.”

“I’m borrowing it because I relate to it.”

Your husband takes the towel from your hand and tosses it to the nearby table, “That’s unfair, between the both of us, I relate to it more.” You could only shut him up with another kiss on the lips. His rough palms cup your cheeks, there is no sense of urgency in this one nor is there anything sexual about it, all you could feel was the love and affection pouring endlessly, like that night when you both had confessed your feelings for each other.

It’s another instant you want to pause and ingrain in your memory.

He pulls away first yet your eyes are still shut, as if you were still in that moment and you didn’t want it to pass too quickly, “I like that.” you mumbled.

“I like that too…” He chuckles at your response, matching your energy like a teenage boy who was struck by a cupid's bow for the first time. It was then that your eyes slowly fluttered open. You wished to slow down for a moment as if you were both in a movie. You hear his quick breathing and the way his chest rises up and down. How hot his cheeks seemed to be on your fingertips whilst you tenderly cup his face, as if you held the world in between those dainty hands.

There is only love when you gaze upon his blue hues.

And although you were not fond of blue since it symbolized the coldness, the infertile lands, and the bleak harrowing winter. You can’t help but fall in love with it and everything it stands for whenever you gazed upon those familiar pairs.

“It’s time to sleep, Y/N. I’ll kiss you more tomorrow.”

Tomorrow.

Right.

“Okay.” it comes out faint, hoarse even yet Satoru doesn’t seem to notice much to your relief. He lays down first and pats your side next. He’s ready to close the lamp but you stop him, wanting to see him tonight closely, “Keep it open.” and he does, thinking that you just wanted the nightlight yet you remain awake, watching how everything good in your world laid to rest next to you.

You memorize every curve, every nook, every cranny like a unique statue in a museum that you won’t ever be able to see again. There’s that soreness in your throat, eyelids ready to burst at any moment.

How cruel did the world seem to be as it orchestrated another tragedy for you two to face.

You wondered, had Gojo Satoru’s luck also run out for him to be the receiving end of all this, once again? Or better yet, was there any to begin with? One after another, all he’d experience was loss. Tomorrow, you’d be doing something added to that, as well.

“I love you,” you confessed in the dullness of the room, knowing that he couldn’t hear you for he was too deep in his slumber, “with all that I have and all I can…I’m sorry, Satoru.”

For the first time, you don’t force sleep to take you.

Instead, you just stare longingly at him as if this were the last night you’d ever get to see him,

When dawn breaks, you’re awake first preparing breakfast for two and a bento box for him later. It’s a beautiful day; the birds are up early, chirping to a symphony. You can hear the children outside yelling that school would be starting soon despite it being only seven am.

It was an ordinary day.

A boring day.

Satoru runs down the stairs, hand on his blindfold as he greets you a good morning. His body feels absolutely light as he sees your familiar presence in the kitchen, standing there and preparing his lunch box along with breakfast for the both of you. He’ll be leaving soon as always, with how busy work was getting and how urgent the situation came to be, you’re just happy that you get to see him like this.

The soft rays of the sun hits his face gently, reflecting on the beautiful flecks of his features as he sits in front of you, a spoon on his mouth as he takes a piece of bread and places some chocolate spread on top for you to have, “I’ll probably be home early. If I can just finish that damn paperwork-” he starts to rant but it’s all just white noise as your mind was elsewhere, “Y/N? Are you listening to me? Are you okay?”

You put the chopsticks down, “I am.” you clasp your hands together, looking at him, “Satoru?”

Your husband looks up, mouth opening slightly then shutting tight, wondering what you were so serious about at this early in the morning yet instead of horrible news, you crack a smile as if you were about to tell him an inside joke. God, you made him nervous when you suddenly did that.

“Remember the baseball game? I won, right? And you said the winner gets to do whatever the loser wants...” he tilts his head to the side in wonder, completely lost at why you had suddenly said that out of nowhere.

“Right…” he trailed off, still puzzled by your response, not entirely sure where this was going.

There’s another round of silence as if you were carefully assessing the right words to say next for you’ve never done this before.

“Marry me.”

A pin drop, a slack jaw, for he’s truly taken aback by your words once again.

“Marry me, Satoru.” you repeat, no hesitance or anything holding you back.

At that moment, Satoru feels like the world has ceased to move around the solar system. Like the sun and the moon had a collision and everything seemed rather chaotic, like the heavens and the earth decided to collide and kiss, “What?” is the only thing that escapes his lips, shock written everywhere in his features.

“Let’s get married in December, the time when we first met officially.”

You may have hated the winters for they were harsh and they brought horrible memories of frost bites and barren lands you couldn't grow anything to but if he'll take you, you'd want to marry him and make good memories in the winter.

Hopefully, it wouldn’t be a dream and he’d still take you then.

“I-” Satoru suddenly lets out a loud laugh, unsure of what was still going on yet it doesn’t stop the wild pumps of his heart, the flushness of his cheeks, and the jolts of what seemed to be like shockwaves going through his body due to the unknown joy that envelopes his system, “Aren’t we married?”

You could only let out that familiar beam, one filled with youthfulness as you reciprocate the energy.

“This was forced.” you pointed out, looking down at your plate, “I did this because I wanted to live, you had to comply because I was the best choice...” you wondered if he’d grant you this, maybe it was you being selfish again because of what you were about to do to him but you didn’t care, all you wanted to hear was his yes at that moment, temporary relief and happiness that he’d walk down the aisle and say yes to you again, “...I want to do this again properly because I love you this time.”

“At least let me take you out on a date before the wedding.”

A date.

Right.

“Where would you like to go, Y/N?” he asks, tilting his head.

“Anywhere…” you remarked, imagining a series of what-if events between you and him, “I’m fine wherever you are.”

It takes everything within you to not hold his hand at that moment, to not break down and tell him the sudden load of information of who you were, what had happened between you and the cursed spirit, and what you were planning to do that could may as well end your life if you aren’t too careful with it.

For you had always promised when you had let yourself fall freely for the man in front of you, he would never be involved in the problems of your life and the burdens you had to carry. The hurt you will give to him now would more or less be better than the sudden revelation. If he ever were to hate you for what you were about to do be it.

As long as you kept your husband’s eyes shut and away from the messy entanglements of your life, it would be good enough for you.

Breakfast ends quicker than you intended it to be. Just like any ordinary day, he gives you a quick kiss and a hug, “Bye Y/N...see you later…” he exclaims, making his way to the door. Unaware of what’s to come or what you were planning to do.

“Goodbye,” You watch his back disappear behind the doors, “Satoru…”

He throws a casual wave, expecting to begin this dull day. Doing paperwork, getting hauled in a quick mission, and finally, buying a cute engagement ring that he saw in passing and a bouquet of flowers for you.

He expects his night to be just like those other exciting nights that he considered to be part of his daily routine.

So when he had come home later, filled with utter excitement to continue morning's events, he anticipates to find you sitting there with a simulating book in your hand yet something was awry. The moment he steps in, a bouquet of lilies and a new engagement ring in his pockets, the house is empty, too empty to the point he found it odd that he couldn't catch a whiff of your vague cursed energy with his six eyes. There is no food prepared or leftovers in a Tupperware.

Everything was in their place yet at the same time, it wasn’t.

The usual freshly picked flowers are amiss on the table.

The boring books that were normally strewn across the coffee table were gone.

It was nearing 9 pm, you couldn’t be out.

“Y/N?” He stumbles on his feet, mumbling your name as his eyes are filled with nothing but panic and worry, cold sweat breaking out in his system when he’s caught up in a very familiar situation as before. The engagement ring on his hand is dropped to the floor along with the flowers. He’s searching for you yet all he finds are piecesof you; from the faint smell of vanillas and lavenders, pictures of has been’s from random moments in both of your lives, your phone, clothes, and jewelry neatly tucked away in their usual place.

No letters, no little sticky notes of goodbyes.

Just valuables, memories, and the heavy wedding ring that hung on his neck.

In the early weeks of the month of October, you, Gojo Y/N is pronounced missing.

five days earlier

Sukuna has seen hell.

At least, he has been through it. Hell and back, that is. The human species were more or less a weak cluster, fragile beings who could easily bend down and break. It actually sickens him that he was lumped as one of them many eons ago. The very fibrous beings that he detested yet at the same time, couldn’t help but be linked to.

At that time, he was a bounty hunter or an assassin of some sorts. He wasn’t exactly connected to Jujutsu Sorcerers but he was a Jujutsu sorcerer he just didn’t have a side then. The man had just picked up jobs because he needed to provide food and fend for himself.

He was good with what he did.

He produced tremendous amounts of amazing results that garnered the attention of higher families and sorcerers and it sickened them that a man with no name was able to be on par with them.

That’s how he ended up getting killed and becoming a cursed spirit.

Jealousy.

It was just because those rat packs couldn’t take the fact that he was better than any of them. If that didn’t make it any better, they even decided to run after him when he had become a cursed spirit. Killing him again and it resulted in him splitting himself to twenty fingers. Right up to now, he was still being thrown around and being sentenced to a guillotine.

It’s just unfair that you get to sit around here lavishly while he has his neck out there. After all, if you ever did survived, you were supposed to be dragged and flung to the fiery pits of hell with him.

He doesn’t deny though that you were an interesting story he had met on his journey whilst he was still a bounty hunter. A fickle in the system. A mistake that needed to be covered-up.

As a curse, he’s well aware now why they didn’t want you to live.

Well, he was always aware.

He just had fully grasped the idea now.

He’s certain though that you were more relatable now than ever. You both are outcasts to society, although you were just more of an aberrant being since the beginning. Apparently, this called for you both to be on the same side yet if he had to be honest, with how you both came to be, you would always be enemies.

He watches you carefully once again, trying to discern you.

It’s even more impossible to feel and sense that you had the very same cursed energy. Although you had a slightly different face, he’s pretty sure that it’s you and you’re just parading around in a complete hoax personality. With your capabilities, it wouldn’t be impossible to live for a longer time period yet he admits this is a stretch.

When was the last time he saw you? The heian period?

You were still a halfling, you should be bones by now and buried six feet even if you had survived that last battle.

“Ryomen.”

He laughs, deep-throated one, a different voice but the same amount of venom lace there with the same name you had called him. It was always Sukuna, Sukuna but to you, it was Ryomen, “Fucking roach…” he calls you that again, “I can’t believe you’re here...living the fucking life while I’m in some kid’s body…” he pokes his tongue on his left cheek, staring at you up and down like some test subject, “How the fuck did you do it?”

“This is the first time we’ve met.” Your gaze is just the same, staring at him as if he was a target. He’s pretty sure you’d try and gouge his eyeballs out. During the last fight, in an attempt to blind him, you had pushed a finger harshly on each eye. Thank fuck he was able to grab on to your hand before your burned it off with your acid. The bitch had given him a run for his money.

“No, it’s not. Don’t act stupid, Minazuki…” he leans in closer, you wouldn’t -- shouldn’t forget him. There's a thin line between enemies and friendship, despite him going after your neck, in terms of strength, there was mutual respect that grew there, “You may hide in another appearance, I don’t know how but I fucking know that’s you.”

“I have never met you before.” you repeated, gritted teeth.

Sukuna takes a pause, eyeing you briefly again. The minazuki that he had haunted down was no liar. Maybe she was manipulative but around him, she was pretty much open with herself because she seemed to have no one to hold back to. No family, no lover, no child- unless…

If that was how it went, how typical of her to do that for her own well-wishes.

The vengeful spirit lets out a loud laugh, one filled with contempt, “No, you are her…” he truly understands just how smart the bitch was, it’s impossible for someone to have the same exact curse energy along with those familiar (e/c) ones.

You are Minazuki and at the same time you weren’t.

Whoever the fuck you were, you were just a side character lumped into a thousand year old curse. You were a nobody. What do humans call it these days? A victim? A casualty?

“She fucking lives inside of you…” his eyes are wide, ferality filling those eyes that it almost lets your knees grow weak and skin crawl, “That bitch...I should’ve known...curses don’t fucking die until the one who cursed them dies…”

You freeze on the spot, your façade falling quickly at the words he had carelessly flung as if you knew what he was saying, “What?”

Sukuna Ryomen stops sputtering his thoughts out loud, looking just as stupefied as you for a brief millisecond since you weren’t aware of the situation you were in. Not only were you some side character but you were a clueless and dumb extra who didn’t even know her past.

No wonder you seemed insensible that night you killed that common whore.

He’s pretty sure that kill wasn’t directed to her but to him and the six-eyes.

“You don’t know?” he suddenly taunts, looking down upon you like a bug he’d be able to squish. Killing you would be too worrisome now, who knows how strong you’ve gotten this past few hundreds of years, he hadn’t collected all his fingers yet so there is no telling. Judging by the looks of it, you were the host. So he decides what to do since he has the upper hand of the situation, “...did they not tell you, woman?”

“If you have nothing proper to say, switch back to Itadori Yuuji.” You replied with clenched teeth.

You’re fully aware of the dangerous game you were playing, time was essential when you were meeting the king of curses. Who knows what he could do in the middle of all of this? He’s always been an unpredictable character on the chess board.

“Oh,” he laughs again, he was going to enjoy this as well. It seemed like you had absolutely no clue at all of the gravity of the situation you were in, “Oh no, they didn’t tell you what you were signing up for? What the fuck you are?” his crimson painted eyes flaring up as if he was enjoying this moment bit by bit, “You fucking dirty blood, you and I are just the same. You’re a fucking curse… At least, a descendant of one…”

“Curses can’t have children.” you narrowed your gaze.

“Halflings can.” he laughed, stating the obvious, “And that’s what she fucking was. A halfling, a mistake, a freak of fucking nature. She couldn’t pick a side and popped outta her momma’s cunt like that...At least, she was cursed to be that way… and I…” he points to himself, “I was the one ripped her fucking brains out and fed her carcass to the side animals…”

Your hands curl up to a fist, “Is that what you were so pent up about? Why you kept pushing Yuuji to meet me?”

Well, he wanted to rip your head out again.

“So-so…” He leans back, relaxing, realizing the play that he was about to push through with this. Maybe he won’t get to kill you but he can mess up the life you have now and affect whatever plans the real minazuki had in your body. Unlike Itadori Yuuji, it seemed like you hadn’t met her just yet, “...Do you want to hear it? The tale? Of how she end up that way?”

“I don’t want to hear anything from you.” You seethed, “You’re a fucking liar, Ryomen.” You want to ignore what he said earlier, a descendant from a curse? That’s impossible, as far as you’re able to tell, no one was able to do that. Once you’re cursed, you become a curse. There is no beyond that. No children. No life. Only death. A limbo.

“Don’t be like that, Minazuki.” he playfully pouts, clicking his tongue and shaking his head side to side, “I’m just helping you now because I understand how you feel, being hunted down? Having to fear for you life? Not even able to get that wink of sleep? I understand that…”

“You and I are not the same.” you growled. you knew where you were stood. You were human through and through, whatever lies this curse had didn't need listening, "Don't call me that."

“We are the same. At least, right now we are. Like Itadori Yuuji, you host a thousand year old curse spirit in your body. God knows how the fuck she did that when I killed her,” he tilts his head, “And you can’t host curses like me or her,” he motions to himself then to you, “Unless you’re a cursed spirit…” he tilts his head to the side, “The story might bode you well, you know."

“I…” he sees it, the hesitance, the want and the thirst to know the truth and Sukuna’s grin only turns bigger.

“Aren’t you tired of being in the unknown? I assure you, the information I have is very much real and fresh because I spent four years of my human life hunting that bitch down.” he throws his cards on the table, wanting you to see just how much willing he was to tell the story.

“And if you’re lying?”

“Theirs nothing to loose if you sit down and ah-” he paused, throwing his hands to the side confidently, “Listen to this old curses tale.”

He was right.

If it was a faux story, you wouldn’t lose much.

“You better have something for me.”

He laughs, once again, there's a sense of cruelty within it, “Trust me, you’d want to stay for this.”

You pressed your lips together, ready to hear a gory tale of people being sliced and killed but he says something else that catches you off guard, one that’s very familiar, as well, “A love affair,” he began, remembering it all too well, “That’s how that messed up shit began...A love affair between a poor concubine and some shaman, he was a poor foot soldier or something… Fuck do I know what that extra's part was...”

“That’s…” your eyebrows are drawn together, clutching your fists tight, “That doesn’t seem…”

Ryomen would think that it was batshit crazy as well but then again, he was simply just a hired mercenary and when asked about the details, they had explicitly told only him since he was the front man of the whole mission and the closest to get to her. He has fought the bitch thrice and it always had ended with a draw until that one fateful day in the cave. He'd also like to think they killed him as well since he knew too much about a certain cursed technique of that high lord, “Well, that’s how that shit began. That’s the beginning, Minazuki. This started because a foot shaman decided to fall in love with a concubine, who was a property of some high lord and was known to be quite an affluent shaman at that time…”

The man takes his time, gulping in every reaction from your side as if you were rather familiar with it, “And poor woman, she didn’t realize just how bat-shit insane the high lord-shaman was, an effect of his cursed technique or so the elder told me when they hired me...he ends up butchering not only the lover but the woman who was with child as well..”

It’s a familiar tale.

One that draws you back to that very familiar dream filled with terror. The one wherein you could never run away from because his presence had you glued on the spot.

So, she wasn’t his wife.

She was simply just a poor woman picked out of the streets to become a high lord's bed warmer. She turned out to get the short end of the stick because he became obsessively in love with her to the point where he had to slay her.

“And, the shaman, realizing what he did to his beloved...had turned even more batshit crazy...” he paused, clicking his tongue to point to his temples and doing a small circle motion to it as if he was mocking the said man, “...and ended up cursing the babies that lived inside the concubine's womb...hoping to never ever see it again for it only brought him pain and suffering…”

You feel something creep up your flesh, especially as he goes deeper into the story.

“It’s horrible. the council, in an attempt to hide the mistake of this high esteemed lord, decided to dispose of the bodies quickly. Not realizing that one of the fetus inside was breathing and living, a half curse as well…” he laughs out loud, recounting the tale like the back of his hand, “Just like a fucking roach, she comes back, years later, mangling each and every sorcerer left and right, any cursed users she could get her hands to. She picked no side...just killed, slashed, in order to get her revenge...in each place she goes, a bloodbath follows...”

He paused. What seemed to be, heavy silence, fills the air. Was that it? There was no climatic feel to it. You had always thought the story would be deeper than that.

“That’s a nice child’s tale...” you feel as if you can breathe better. If that's how it was, then this still amounted to nothing. Your ancestors' past is clearly not as important as it seemed. If Ryomen was right about his hypothetical claims, maybe you can try to channel her and see if you can get your body back. Just like how Yuuji does.

“It’s not over yet, minazuki.”

Your blood runs cold at the amusing tone that littered his voice as if he knew something that you didn’t. You were in the dark since that dream hadn't shown you the whole picture, so you saw no faces nor were you aware of what happened then, “Don’t you want to know the oh-so high powerful lord whose name they had to protect? The one who ended up driven mad by jealousy and butchered that poor whore of his? Even going so far as cursing Minazuki, an innocent fetus at that time? The one who hired me? There's a reason why they still try to bury your name in textbooks...” he tilts his head, like a child playing a game, “After all, they need to protect the high lord’s name and his family... You know jujutsu sorcerers, pride is everything...” he says the last part, spitefully.

His words could only entail that the family is still present and very much, still influential. It could only lead you to three high families right now.

Like a gun pointed in your forehead, you’re frozen on the spot. You wondered just where this conversation was leading to.

“If you have nothing good to say after, I suggest you switch bodies back with Itadori Yuuji.” your breathing slowly turns ragged, pupils dilating, your voice turning hoarse as you slowly start to realize where this was all going to. The calm composure you sported is thrown out the window like nothing yet he remains level-headed, realizing that this was going to mess you up more in the head.

It wasn’t his mess to clean up, anyways.

“Go on, guess..” he hummed, tapping his feet on the floor, “Because lets be real, you weren’t supposed to kill that stupid maid that night...You were suppose to kill me, Itadori Yuuji, who is my host….” he holds out each finger, one by one, then pauses as if you knew who else was there that night, “...and the six eyes…” he raises three fingers, playfully waving them in the air.

You don’t want to hear his next words.

You’re all too familiar now with what’s about to come next. Why those dreams won’t stop and why you end up feeling worse for work despite Satoru’s calming presence. All those times, those moments that led to this. The world couldn’t be that cruel to you, right?

When would the gods or whoever controlled your fate finally stop this wicked charade?

He was lying.

“Switch.” you muttered.

You don’t want to hear him say anything more. If you could delay, what seemed to be the inevitable. You would. Yet Sukuna Ryomen doesn’t care. He wonders just how that monster within you will react once you know everything. Their’s a reason why you seemed to be unknown. Whatever that reason is, hopefully, you’ll get to disrupt the roaches' plan and he’ll see hellfire rain over her and her schemes.

“I said switch back to Itadori, Ryomen.” You repeated, voice turning louder, your throat hurting from the shortness of breaths and how constricted it becomes.

Yet he doesn’t stop, he continues his chat as if he was talking about superficial things in between everything. Sukuna Ryomen had always been that sort of person, the type to see everything burn around him.

“I mean, you know him well... everyone does...He has always been told in history books...” Ryomen wonders what’s to come after this. He’ll throw a bone, he’ll see if you’d bite and chew it, “...He goes by the name Michizane Sugawara...” his gaze slowly dithers to the large wedding picture on your living room, staring at your husband’s face and the familiar cerulean eyes that were filled with insanity the last time he had seen them in the Heian era. His smile does not even disappear despite the story taking a twist, “...Funny, I believe he’s your husband’s forefather, isn’t he?”

#jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk angst #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo saturo x reader #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #jjk imagines #gojo satoru x reader #satoru x reader #gojo satoru #📝📝.minazuki mini series #jujutsu kaisen gojo #hostclub.adulting #gojo angst

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quirklessidiot · 3 years

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title : minazuki [13: inamorata] pairing : gojo satoru x f!y/n Genre: angst, arranged-marriage au, mystery/thriller, mature, enemies-to-lovers-ish, and very slow burn (canon compliant-ish for ch-0 to the anime)

Summary: In which Y/N L/N is placed under a union she has no choice but to partake for the sake of her survival.

Warnings: mild smut (thigh-riding, dry humping, handjob, cum-eating, very small saliva kink if u squint, and mild teasing), mentions of the bride market, brief mentions of harrasment, thoughts of violent self-harm notes: mhm yeah, have a great day <3 also i might update it next week instead because of my covid vax uwu second dose, remember to get vaccinated as well and stay safe everyone <3 this chapter came out longer but then again chapter 12-15 are pretty long while 16 is ish while 17 to epilogue have the same length as ch0 (the small and indiviudal scene chapters hehe so thats like 2-3k words hehe :”)

series masterlist || taglist closed ||

Chapter Summary: may it be under the golden rays of the sun or the soft trickles of the moonlight, Gojo Satoru finds himself enamored by you in all way always.

“Is love important?”

You’re fourteen years old by this time, your liquid and brilliant gaze looks up from the philosophy book tossed to your side which would apparently be good for past reading. You’re quick to understand it, mind you but they get rather confusing especially when they start tackling things such as this.

Your grandmother is sitting behind you, varnishing a small dagger used for your training while you finish the book. Her eyes narrowed down explicitly with the sudden words you had thrown out there due to childish curiosity, “What kind of question is that?” she inquired.

“Aristophanes says here, Obaa-chan.” you raised the book, it’s an interesting quote that had you read it again and again yet you wanted to ask your grandmother’s opinion about it since she was older and mayhaps, wiser than you, “....Love is born into every human being; it calls back the halves of our original nature together; it tries to make one out of two and heal the wound of human nature. Each of us, then, is a ‘matching half’ of a human whole…and each of us is always seeking the half that matches him….” you recite in verbatim, the words are memorized like the page had been ripped off and ingrained in your memory.

The older woman finds it odd how you seem to differ from her when she was a young girl, albeit you did have your moments where you looked incredibly hopeless about your situation, you were still intrigued about these things.

“So how does it connect to your question earlier?” she only places the dagger to the side. Her cool gaze doesn’t escape you for a moment. For a young girl, you were also incredibly smart as well; although you liked to cry and shed a bit too much emotion, much to her distaste. With that sort of attitude, she’d doubt you’d survive the real world.

“Do I need my other half?” You prod, “To heal me?”

Your grandmother almost snorts at such a question. Hopefully you wouldn’t end up being the type of woman who thinks she needs a man to help stand on her own two feet. Women like the both of you needed anything but that, after all, “Are you thinking that you’re broken to begin with?” she asked.

“I don’t…” your brows are furrowed together. She’d get mad at you a lot, give you lesions as well because of your incompetence, wouldn’t that mean you’re broken and that someone needed to come and fix you?

“Normal beings can believe what they want to believe.” she cuts you off, “It’s just you and I...we’re just not meant for that sort of ideology. In fact, we shouldn’t even believe it.”

It was confusing yet you were anxious to ask anything more than that so you returned your gaze back to the book. Your grandmother continues to watch you carefully and as if she had read your mind, she finally says, “For people like us, Love is like a sakabato…” you slowly look up from your reading material, mildly surprised your grandmother is open to such a question.

You tilt your head to the side as she stands up to take, what seemed to be, a reverse blade and places it down next to you, “It’s made for peace, alright...the only thing that it’ll do is mildly incapacitate you, make people confused even because not many know how to wield it…” she turns to face you, “yet at the end of the day, when you turn it to its side it’ll still kill you like the rest of the other blades.”

There's small whirls of winds that accompany the aching silence, you take note of her response in your head but a part of you feels like she was picking this connotation from somewhere, “So it’s a weakness?” you summarized.

Everything had always been a weakness for her; crying, showing too much emotion, being too close to someone, and everything that was considered a norm. Anything that made you human, it seemed like she just wanted to cut it off of you.

“The worst you’ll probably ever encounter.” she coolly remarked, taking the blade and placing it back to its scabbard. Her gaze never leaves you for a moment as if she forebodes a dreadful future where you ignored her words of caution, “Because you’ll never know when it’ll strike.”

There's a fine line of uncommonness and what seemed to be normal for many

For you and Gojo Satoru, it’s rather blurred. It always had been; two strangers with negative notions of each other going into a pact that involved their lives, unknowingly protecting each other's interests, sharing the same bed despite not being lovers nor friends for the matter, and even helping the other one out deal with their issues.

You’re more or less wondering what has been going on the shaman’s head the entire time. You’ve talked about it but now what? It only settles in when you rouse to find him standing there, calling Ichiji saying that he might be calling off work for the next two days before the Tokyo-Kyoto exchange event, saying something along the lines of how you were not feeling well and that he’d be taking care of you.

You lay there in bed, still as a doll, watching his broad back and the threws underneath his black shirt flexing whenever he did any big movements or hunch over. Sometimes you’d forget how muscular he seemed to be underneath it. Your husband was fond of wearing loose clothing, not really keen on showing his physique or anymore of his skin despite the confidence he showed.

You wondered if it had something to do with what had happened when he was a teenager.

He turns to you, seeing that you’re awake, his lips parted for a bit as he studies you openly, carefully watching his next few words as well, “Ichiji, I’ll see you at the event, alright? They can survive without me for two days.” without even saying anything more, he ends the call and places the phone to the side.

There's silence for a moment, one that’s so loud that you could hear a pin drop but it’s not the heavy and incongruous kind.

It’s one that had, what seemed to be, mutual harmony.

Satoru watches the way your head is pressed to the pillow, your revealing skin peeking underneath the thick duvets of your shared bed, and the way your soft pillowy lips part so slightly the same ones he had kissed the night before and he smiles.

He smiles as if the world had been given to him in the palm of his hand, like everything around him seemed solved and other problems were just some miniature marionettes that he could easily control.

“Morning.” you greet him, your impeccable and calm gaze bores upon him. You’re not sure on how to go about it but Gojo Satoru is Gojo Satoru he makes everything so easy and smooth sailing for you that you wonder just how blessed you are to have someone like him in your life.

“Good morning, Y/N…” he sneaks back into your bed and under the warm covers of the duvet, “It’s a great day isn’t it?” There's the sound of thunder coming from the outside, making you hold back a small laugh when you feel him tug you closer to his body, his long limbs enveloping your waist as if he was telling you to go back to sleep.

“Yeah.” you muttered, timorously returning the hug, “I think...I think so too…”

“They can last a day or two without me.” he whispers as he lays his chin on top of your head, “I haven’t slept well these past few days.” he adds the last part, trying to seem nonchalant by his confession and you could only rest your head on his chest, listening to his soft and hushed breathing.

“We could go back to bed.” you suggested, your eyelids turning heavy at the soothing way he draws small circles on your waist. The grey skies and quiet sounds of rain pattering outside your bedroom window alongside how cool the room seems to become only makes you snuggle closer to his body heat, one that he doesn’t seem to mind at all as he holds you with the same earnesty.

“Wonderful idea.” He feels your fingers slowly settle on the ring that hangs on his neck and for a brief moment you’re hesitant but he takes your hand and settles it where he’d usually fear people would touch him so carelessly. The ring is cold on your fingertips as you play with it for a second, rubbing it between your digits, “It’s so that I wouldn’t destroy it.” he mutters to you, taking your hand that’s parallel to his and intertwining it with his fingers, “It’s one of a kind, you know.” he adds.

“I know.” you agreed.

Just like this relationship you have with him.

An odd and one of a kind one.

“Satoru...are you not angry?” you suddenly ask, not wanting to look at him because of how tired you were of everything. How you don’t want to reduce your husband into a series of speculative what-if’s anymore nor try to dissect him like a frog in a laboratory. All you want is his honest opinion about everything that’s going on between the both of you and how he felt about that.

“I don’t know.” The smooth and reasonable tone is enough to have your lips pressed to a thin line and hold your breath, hesitant and scared because you aren’t sure if you’d be able to face the consequences if you’d both end up fighting again about this. A rather cowardly reaction for someone who wouldn’t hesitate to do it before, “On one hand I’m happy you’re here but you aren’t safe with me, Y/N…” he paused, “How did you even know I wouldn’t hurt you nor try to force you back then? What would you have done if I ended up like Naoya? Or better yet, force you to bear me heirs like Kamo?”

A feeling.

A very strong gut feeling and desperation was what led you here.

Your mind looms back to the whirls of rumors about how he didn’t want to marry you and the first time you met him when you were both young, the way his cool blue eyes don’t seem to take heed of your presence nor notice you at all. How Naoya’s meeting with you left a bitter memory when you were eighteen and how Kamo’s meeting seemed too uncomfortable and you felt like a small lamb being tossed around for entertainment, how it pools down to this single moment with you, safely tucked and living a life you’d never thought you’d have. “I don’t know.” you could only let out, honestly, “I was desperate.” your voice comes out hoarse as you try to find a good reason to explain why you had to disrupt his life like this.

Satoru shuts his eyes tight, imagining how you must’ve felt at that time, only sixteen and already being passed around and being shown to men twice your age with no sense of decency.

He’s no better then, he probably wouldn’t have bat an eyelash if someone had told him about you when he was younger, “I’m sorry.” were the only words that can escape your lips because you know nothing else but to say those words to him, how you are now just nothing but another added weakness and burden to carry for him.

He could only hold you tighter for he can’t even formulate a proper response to that, “I know.” he utters, he could tell. How fear-stricken you seemed last night when you had told him as if you’d expect him to react in one of the worst ways possible, how all that confidence and bold attitude is now reduced to nothing but a young woman who had been simply too tired to fight back the internal conflict. How you just wanted everything to be over right then and there, “I know…” he repeats gently.

Although he knew how happy you were to receive the title a year ago, you both had never talked about it openly like this. He has never seen you profess such desperation, at all. You didn’t even sound like you were guilt-tripping him, in fact, it seemed like you tried doing all of that just for him to spite you.

Yet Gojo Satoru could never feel such things for you.

Emotions are a fickle, they’re one that made him truly unsure about everything but he’s sure that whatever you both have now is real.

“I told you, though…” he muttered, “I don’t think I could ever stay angry at you…”

The mouth may have said other things earlier but the heart and mind continued to say another, he felt like a liar to himself when he was angry towards you that time. Who was he kidding? He was a man who had never experience this before, how is he suppose to know what’s the right or wrong thing to do in these moments?

“You’re quite foolish.”

“I know.” he smiles, “But I’m not the one who confessed and tried to let the other hate her because she was feeling the same as well.” he pressed his warm lips on yours. It truly had been quite the moment, it even had confused him for a bit.

You could only let out a raspy chuckle, “I guess we both were, then.”

“Perfect odd couple, aren’t we?”

“Right.” Your eyes flutter shut with the sound of his heartbeat lulling you.

It was one of those moments that you both had unknowingly needed to talk about out loud. A part of the burden seems to have released itself on your back.

Satoru had expected things to be awkward in terms of skin-ship but you seem to take it well. Surprisingly these past few days, you had him feeling like you were just a part of the norm of married couples. You weren’t exactly shy with affection but you weren’t too big on it, as well. He had accompanied you yesterday to buy something at a nearby gardening shop, the whole time, you had your hands wrapped around him and had even kissed him in public after he had leaned in too close.

The man wonders why he’s the one that becomes withdrawn, it’s not like he had a lack of experience in the department. He’s had his fair share and they’d be considered plenty in his perspective yet it's the first time he’s actually garnered such a reaction from one specific person.

How you could be doing something so mundane in the eyes of many yet continue to make it seem so breathtaking, how it all just seems brighter and better when you’d rub his back in the morning to wake him up like the sun had been shining through him on a gloomy day. He’d actually thought all those things would disappear now that you’re truly here next to him but it only seems to heighten.

“Don’t you want to come with me?” he suddenly suggested, watching as you packed him a bento box. An apron wrapped around you and your hair styled just the way you liked it. Satoru had continued on with his weird habit of dabbling and playing with your hair every morning when he had the time. It’s one you didn’t seem to mind and you’d just compliment him and tell him how he seemed better at it than you did.

He knows it’s a lie but he liked those small pecks you’d give him after alongside those little praises that he’s doing better than the last time despite the last time being the day before that.

“To watch the kids I know being beaten up?” you chortled, shaking your head. He likes the way you smile at him, it’s not those sly ones you’d give before nor the ones that held little secrets. It’s a pure, unadulterated, and genuine emotion that he wishes to see on your face everyday, “It’s not my interest.” you added, taking the beef with the chopsticks and blowing it lightly to cool it down before placing it near his mouth, feeding him so he could try and check if it’s suitable for his taste.

“Can’t you add a bit more sugar to it?” he chews on the meat, nonchalantly.

He tries to treat these moments as a regular thing, not wanting you to stop them nor banteringly call you out for it. When you had held his hand in your own accord the first time, he tried to tease you about it but he realized that he’d lose a bit too quickly because of the way you’d brush your lips on his and use his flustered expression instead against him. You knew your effect on him. You’re still cunning and clever in that way.

Mind you, he’s trying very hard to not react too violently but between the both of you, it seemed like you had more self-control and had more relationships than him.

With the same chopsticks, you take a piece and try the beef yourself, “Isn’t it going to overcome the saltiness of the soy sauce?” you frowned, not entirely sure if you’d take his advice for it, “You’re going to ruin the dish.”

“It tastes better when it’s sweeter.” he retorts, “Also, they’re not exactly getting violently beaten up.”

You shake your head at his response, clearly not buying it, “Yet that Todo fellow smells like trouble, who beats up fellow peers because his taste in women is boring? Also that young Zen’in, poor Kugisaki-san...apparently her jacket got ruined and she almost got shot in the face...” you recalled Megumi’s bruised state alongside the young strawberry blonde’s expression as she recounted to you what had happened that day. Thankfully the boy from the Inumaki clan had apparently been able to turn the situation around with his cursed technique and the young ebony-haired boy didn’t need to over-exert himself than he already had. Mai had also been able to intervene and helped lessen the damage on the young girl.

Satoru’s mind, on the other hand, wanders off to a familiar blonde judging people for their type of woman and almost lets out a laugh. He hadn’t replied to her question then but maybe he’d be able to give her a more or less concrete answer this time and not something pulled out of a tall hat randomly.

“Well, I’m thinking of training Megumi a bit harder,” he places his head on top of his palm, “After all didn’t you say that he’d stronger than me before?” he tilts his head to the side, the brief conversation and what sparked more of his interest towards you returns to his head.Sendai seemed like a far-off dream when you looked at how different it was then and there, how he just sat there, sleeping on the floor first time, mind you and now, he’s here right in front of you and doing something that seemed rather domestic, a scenario he’d never thought he’d enjoy nor be able to indulge in.

“Don’t train him too hard.” was all you could say, placing the lid, “And I’m sure Megumi is getting there, you’ve been teaching him since he was a kid. You’re a pretty good teacher.” Although the young boy doesn’t say it out loud, you’re sure he’s happy to be part of Satoru’s group and be called his student. It’s obvious that he did respect the older man to a certain degree.

“How nice.” he stands up, towering over you. He’s going to be busy again these next few days, he won’t be able to see you since he has a job to do and a responsibility to finish. He sort of gets Nanami now and his loathing for overtime.

Sometimes, he wonders if he’d ever get to make this job into a nine-to-five one. It would be nice to come home in time to see you standing there with a warm meal and sleep next to you around ten, hearing you read to him out loud some boring book that garnered your mental interest. He’s only there to hear you talk though, it’s calm and soothing, making the world seemingly turn into complete silence like it was just the both of you left on this earth.

You feel his arms snake around your waist, placing his head on your shoulder. The small sway of your bodies and the way the room is reduced to quietude as you run your hands through his white locks makes him shut his eyes tight, basking himself in your presence since he won’t be seeing you for the whole day, “What’s this for?” you inquired, intrigued by the sudden hug.

“I’ll be home a bit later, probably. You know how the job goes.” he muttered in dismay, letting out a stiff sigh.

“It’s alright.” the corner of your lips turn upwards, “I’ll be here.”

“I just got you back and I’m leaving again.” he should’ve brought you with him on his trip. He doesn’t want to separate himself from you too much and only come home to you and your sleeping figure and rouse before you’d wake up.

“You’ll be fine.” you chuckled, your voice reverbs on his skin like a fine tune that he wants to engrave in his senses, “Want me to wait up for you? I usually can’t sleep that much these days.” Satoru finally lets you go, brows furrowed in concern when you tell him about your current dilemma.

“I should call Ieiri-” you lean in to give him a peck on the side of his lips.

“I don’t want to rely on pills, it’s hard to get addicted and rely on them. I’m sure it’ll pass.” you tried to guarantee that you were fine and alright, rubbing his arm and giving it a small squeeze of assurance. Back when you were younger they’d pass on pretty quickly so you’re sure with Satoru next to you, they’d drift away as well. Your husband gives you one last arm hug and a peck on the temple.

“Just tell me if it gets too much, we’ll try to get some help aside from prescription, alright?”

“It’s nothing too serious” you repeat, “I’ll be fine and you have to be at school in ten minutes.” clearly, you don’t want another voicemail of Ichiji on the telephone or hear Yaga calling you randomly in the middle of the day asking about your husband and why he hasn’t shown himself in the office because they had a meeting an hour ago. Satoru suggested that he could have the telephone line cut if they crowded the message box too much and you had to hold him back on that one since you didn’t want to expect surprise visits from either of them.

A small honk signaling that Ichiji is outside to pick Satoru up snaps you both back to realities.

“I really, really wish you could come with me…” he gloats once again, taking the bento box you packed for him as he leans down to give you another kiss but all you do is let out a small smile as you walk him outside of your home to the front door.

“Maybe when the games aren’t as violent, alright?” you turn to find Ichiji standing there, “Good morning Ichiji-san. I hope you didn’t wait too long.” you direct your kind attitude towards the driver, taking note that you might have to give him some baked goods. The amount of times his cortisol must’ve risen because of your husband and his antics would be astounding but more or less you’re thankful he still stuck around.

“Don’t worry, Y/N-san…” Ichiji lets out a nervous laugh when he feels your husband staring down at him, “I hope you’re feeling better as well.” He goes back inside the driver's seat, not wanting to be the receiving end of Satoru’s demise and loud mouth for the next ten or so minutes, leaving your husband standing there.

“Have a good day, Satoru.” you raise your hand to give him a brief wave. The image of you standing there in a beautiful dress with an apron wrapped around you and your hair styled by him that morning doesn’t erase the smile on his lips.

It’s a run of a mill scenario, another one to add to his memory.

What you don’t know is that the days had been better since then, probably like a cup of hot chocolate that would get him through the day.

“See you tonight, Y/N.”

Satoru had just arrived at the academy and he was already getting bored.

Here he is, sitting in front of Nanami Kento, his head thrown back and legs stretched out. He’s counting down the hours until he gets to go home after the games. If things went right, he could run and bail on them after, maybe he could get away from hiding Itadori Yuuji to the public this time.

“Nanamiiii…” He drawl, his voice laced with annoyance because he had nothing to do, “Say something funny…”

Nanami Kento looks up from the newspaper, brown eyes calmly and unthinkingly grazing upon the older fellow. By the looks of it and how even-tempered he seemed to be, things have worked out better between the both of you. A small sigh of relief escapes his lips as he takes the newspaper in front of him in order to shield himself from the older man’s irksome tactics.

“Ok, got it!” he snaps his fingers, continuing to look heavenwards, “Let’s talk about the separation of the church and state while throwing rice balls at each other. Y/N packed some extras saying I needed good carbs and veggies but I hate rice and veggies so…”

“Do that by yourself…” he deadpanned, he’s right. You both seemed to be doing superbly well and the childish comment he had on your nagging about his sweets intake is to be taken note of.

“Alright,” he claps his hands together, “Yamonte line game with the places Gojo Satoru loves!” the grin never leaving his features, “Everything.”

“Please keep that up.” Nanami comments, straightening his newspaper, “Itadori-kun needs that idiocy right now.”

Satoru leans back to his chair, scratching his forehead at the memory of him telling Nanami Kento that he needed to bring Yuuji with him to complete a few heavy missions.

“I didn’t mean that kind of heavy.” The air turns heavy as Satoru admits that it may have been a bit too overboard after what had just happened to the young boy. He’s kind of worried that the blonde scared him off too much, “Does Yuuji know about the fingers at that Yoshino’s house?”

Gojo Satoru was hoping for something a bit lower grade but then again, it was his fault for not specifying how hard it was. Next time, he’d need to get into details.

“No,” Nanami continues to read about news on the stock market on the paper, eyes never leaving it, “He’d just feel a needless responsibility.” The image of the young boy’s expression was one he didn’t want to dampen even further so he chose to keep that to himself. Kento, as much as possible, had a goal and that was to make Yuuji Itadori, who somehow had reminded him very much of Yu Haibara, maintain that spirit.

“Then I’m glad I left you in charge.” he paused, “How about that finger?”

“Retrieved it. You’d just feed it to Itadori-kun anyway.” He clicks his tongue, turning to the next page. The blonde sorcerer turns silent for a moment, making Satoru cup his mouth for a moment because he’s aware of what’s going through the younger blonde’s head ever since Ichiji had picked him up awhile ago in the car pool.

“Me and Y/N are doing better.”

“Hm,” Kento hummed, the words that came out of the older man’s mouth made his mouth set to a hard line, “That’s nice, you both looked like idiots who couldn’t sort their stuff.” for two smart people, you sure did like to run around in circles.

“I’m planning on taking her away from japan after I get Yuuji sorted out.”

Silence suddenly fills the air.

“That’s probably one of the best ideas I’ve heard from you.” Satoru doesn’t catch the small smile forming on his lips. As the white-haired shaman is about to throw in another remark, Itadori Yuuji comes in with a big smile on his face, excitement filling his senses that he finally gets to see his friends.

Nananmi Kento could only think about how happy Yu Haibara probably would be if he ever were to be alive and here today; seeing you get the kindness that you deserved and a man who could openly fall for you with no restrictions and you reciprocating with no fear.

It was a happy ending, indeed.

When Satoru had left you this morning, you did the dishes and went straight to the garden to clean up and stare at the dead daisies that he had accidentally uprooted while he was helping you yesterday.

Your nose is scrunched up in displeasure as you pick it up and leer at it for a split second. If there was something Satoru would never be good at, it was gardening. Who in their right mind would overwater and uproot a healthy plant, right after? He wasn’t a natural like Megumi and Yuuji was pretty good at following instructions when he’d volunteer to help at the estate.

Your husband, on the other hand.

You shake your head and stop short when an unfamiliar tingling sensation is felt on your fingertips, making you drop the flowers on the floor. You intake one long breath then another, taking the garden glove off your right hand and tossing it to the side. Your skin starts feeling numb and a familiar prickling sensation fills it as if something was nipping your flesh bit by bit. It was as if your hand was placed under a negative degree temperature region and forced under there until you’d get a frostbite.

You take your other hand, forcing your digits to move, composing yourself in the process because you knew panicking wouldn’t help you.

Your breathing turns jagged, the sensation comes off overpowering as if you couldn’t even feel the nerves on your fingertips anymore. It seemed like your skin had started to turn into hardened wax. You’re about to grab the pruning knife next to you to stab your own hand to draw the blood out yet the phone rings, disrupting your grisly thoughts.

The feeling is gone as if it was all in your head.

You take one deep breath, bending it and checking it for a moment, “Ah,” you shake your head, the lack of sleep must be getting into your mind. You might need to take Satoru’s advice because zoning out wouldn’t be good for you. Taking the other gloves out and continuing to stare at the hand, you walk towards the telephone to answer it.

“Gojo Residence,” you greeted, eyes still carefully observing the hand and turning it into one side to carefully check on it, “May I know who's on the line?”

“Ah, Y/N-san…” Ichiji’s voice echoes the line, mild worry laced on the other side, “It’s me...The school, well, their might be some trouble and Gojo-san had told me to call you, saying that he’ll be very late for dinner and that you didn’t need to wait up for him anymore.”

You drop the hand to the side, tilting your head slightly. Concerned by the sudden news and with the sudden call, it must’ve been serious. You wondered if anyone you knew was injured, “What happened?” you inquired, shifting one leg to another as your brows furrowed in mild distress.

“Someone had disrupted the school...curses, I believe…”

Your grip on the phone tightens, “Satoru? Megumi? How about Yuuji?”

“I...We’re not well aware of the situation inside the curtain but Gojo-san is outside...He isn’t allowed inside it…”

The thought about poor Megumi and Yuuji facing yet another powerful foe after what had just happened to them makes your heart almost lurch. Whoever was able to get through Tengen’s barrier undetected, in a school that had high grade level sorcerers would definitely be a grade 1 level at most, “Could you keep me posted?” you clench the phone tightly, “and Satoru…” no, your husband would be fine. If ever, they weren’t probably as strong as your husband if they wanted to keep him out of it. You wonder why there was a sudden influx of cursed individuals who seemed smart enough to devise such plans, “Just...just tell him to call after…”

After Ichiji had agreed and guaranteed that Satoru would be able to sort out the situation. You take a seat on your sofa, shutting your eyes tight, mild worry filling your senses and the events that transpired awhile ago were at the back of your head.

The only thought now was the kids and well, your husband.

If they’re able to do such things now, what else could happen in the future? Something didn’t seem to sit right; with Itadori Yuuji being able to eat and control the curse to this certain incident. Something was brewing and it made you unknowingly scared.

“We’ll be okay.” you muttered to yourself, gulping down a large chunk of nervousness, “ He’ll be fine…”

The whole day you tried to detach yourself from the phone. Despite Ichiji’s promise to call you back, you hadn’t heard from him at all. It only made you more weary because you were unaware of what was going on. Something that made you internally sick.

Being kept in the unknown still had you on edge.

Maybe you should’ve gone with Satoru this morning, at the very least, you could see your husband and how he was doing with your own eyes.

No, it would be trouble as well. What if you’d be used against him? Although it’s easy to play a damsel with your current stance. One that’s not really irksome since that’s how you were viewed as but it would mess everything up too easily. You couldn’t exactly use your technique in public.

You try to pace around your house, try doing the laundry even, and continue to tend to your overwatered garden and the plants your husband had uprooted but all that’s running through your head is the different scenarios that aren’t too positive.

Nightfall comes without you doing anything productive that day and Satoru is nowhere to be found. No calls from Ichiji nor your husband. You’re in your nightwear and the only thing keeping you warm is the thin haori as your lounging on the couch. Hands on a book that you haven’t even read because of the overthinking along with your gaze focused solely on the door.

The book on your hand almost drops to the floor when it opens; your husband standing there unscathed and clearly alright as if he had just gone on a long walk in the park.

“Y/N?” he frowns, taking off his blindfold to reveal his cerulean blues that are muddled by your current situation. He checks the wall clock, it’s nearing twelve already and he told you that you didn’t need to do this.

“You’re home.” you muttered, “You didn’t call.”

Hesitance fills Satoru for a fleeting moment as he tries to remember why he needed to call you. His lips parted to a small ‘o’ realizing that Ichiji must’ve rang you and told you about everything. He had specifically told the man not to spill the full details, “Evening.” he sheepishly greets you.

You shut your eyes tight, standing up, “Have you had dinner at least?”

He hadn’t.

You could only shake your head, “Come on...Let’s make you a sandwich and I’ll draw you a hot bath…”

There’s a sense of quietness between the both of you as if you didn’t want to talk to him about what happened and you were quite angry that he hadn’t called you. He trails behind you, eyes on your nape and the way the haori hangs to fit your frame and cover your smooth skin and flimsy nightwear.

The lights are dim and the only brightness is coming from the lights in the fridge.

“Did I worry you?” He breaks the silence, trying to keep the mood light but when he sees you cutting up the leftover chicken and giving him a look, he presses his lips and looks elsewhere.

“No.” you frowned, taking the lettuce and chopping it up as well, “You’re the strongest. I’m sure those small flies won’t do anything.”

You are worried.

Your husband blinks for a moment, “Y/N…” mildly confused why anyone would be troubled for him when he’s technically the strongest. He’s never had anyone perturbed by him nor his missions. Ever since he was younger, it had always been the opposite. There was more fear if he ever went to those sorts of things than worry.

“Satoru.”

“I’m fine.”

“I know.” you take the toasted bagel and place it in front of him, assembling the sandwich and not even looking at your husband, “Of course you are, like I said you’re the strongest, aren’t you?” he leans in closer. Carefully scanning your features before he comments on your ripostes.

“You don’t have to be worried.”

He’s right.

You shouldn’t be.

Gojo Satoru is a being that’s considered to be almighty and untouchable. He’s a walking divinity, a god amongst humans, an eternal being with no limits but when your mind looms back to those moments where he had been anything but that; when he had confessed his fears, his tribulations, along with how you had held him, his warmth, and hear his pulse that beats just like yours.

He felt anything but that.

You’re his wife, you’re sure it wouldn’t be silly to worry a bit over your husband, right?

“I know.” was all you could say, the words came out in a choke whisper, “Just...Don’t do anything to make me worried, alright?”

Satoru’s eyes flare up just a bit at your words, the way his heart beat rose to a crescendo when you looked at him with those eyes and heard your agitated tone that’s clipped and terse as if you didn’t want to show how distressed you are for him, “I won’t.” he’s not teasing anymore, detecting how serious this seemed to be for you, “Don’t worry, I won’t do anything too reckless…”

“Thank you.” you muttered, “I just…” you aren’t sure how to explain it to your husband. You trusted him and his capabilities but the growing feeling in the pits of your anxious mind that’s only filled with loud voices is too complicated to put into words.

“I know…I’ll be here.” not even breaking eye contact as he takes your hand, clasping them together, “ I’ll come home to you always, Y/N…”

They had decided to hold off the exchange event for a few days because the kids were still injured and that meant Satoru lounging around your home more since there wasn’t a need for him in missions as well. Apparently, he’d be taking you to the baseball game to see the children. It wasn’t violent, this time!

The conversation you had a few nights ago hadn’t silenced your thoughts but it was enough to tame them. You’d like to think that you and Satoru had a silent agreement that night, how he shouldn’t be so careless despite what he can do.

“What are you doing?”

The hazy morning sun hits your skin gently along with the soft wafts of the wind that fill the air, it’s a good day. You look up to find your husband bending down across you, stopping mid-action with a pruners on your gloved hand. He’s wearing his black sunglasses and his usual black sweater, the long sleeves folded up to reveal his veiny forearms, “Helping you out.” he pointed out, stating the obvious.

“As much as I appreciate the sentiment, please take your hands off my flowers.” you narrowed your gaze, “I’d very much like them delicately taken care of.”

“I can be gentle.” he retorts, there's an innuendo tossed in there but when he glances up to check on you if you got the idea, your attention is still on the plant which makes him pout. He was thinking of teasing you about it but you seemed too slow to get on with some of his jokes.

“Satoru, you almost over-watered my daisies last time and unrooted one of my healthy plants on that side.” you point towards the opposite side of the garden with your thumb. You were worried that things would turn to an awkward mess after that abrupt confession but it’s been smooth sailing so far. He probably had become even more doting and clingy.

“It’s my first time.” he retorts, he even bought his own gardening gloves quickly just so that he could spend time with you when you did your gardening work in the morning on his free days, “I can do it better now.” you gently flick his hand away.

“Again, they’re appreciated but you’re only allowed in the kitchen.”

His mouth turns downwards at the way you had scolded him, “I just wanted to join you.”

“Satoru,” you look up, boring your eyes on his, “You can sit down there and just pass me some of the materials. Just please try not to murder my garden.”

You’d be incredibly annoyed if he tried to keep pushing himself in, mind you, as much as you love having your husband around, he has to realize that he can’t be gifted with everything before he accidentally starts using pesticides instead of a water sprinkler.

“You really like these plants, huh?” he mumbled, taking the gloves off and grabbing the nearby outdoor fabric that laid on one of the outdoor couches so he could spread on the grass and take a seat on it.

The keen interest you had on botany is something else and you were truly good with what you did too. It’s no surprise that the Gojo estate back then had also turned into this luscious and exuberant paradise since you were in charge of the redecorating and such of the gardens. The place had looked more alive with the reds, yellows, pinks, and all the other colors Satoru could think of when you had hired someone to fix them up for you and even had your own personal spot there to plant your own specifically.

“They’re relaxing to look at.” you pluck out a weed that’s starting to grow, “they’re not so much as calming if they start dying on me because of the winter, though.” you added the last part in dismay. Your husband simply just watches you start to draw on how annoying it was when the winters would hit, it’s only then he realizes why you wanted to go to a tropical country.

“Is that why you’d want to go somewhere tropical?” how adorable, you wanted to be in a sunny place because you wanted to grow your flowers all year round.

“More or less. Easier to grow things there.” you confirmed, “Please pass me the small rake, Satoru.” He does as ordered, eyes still trained towards you and the way your hair is up and done in a loose updo, revealing the smooth skin of your neck. You’ve also decided to wear a simple yellow sundress since you complained about how it was hot earlier this morning.

Now, Satoru has seen you wearing less yet there's something about the way the dress hugs your waist and the thin sheen of sweat falling down on your neck that makes him just openly ogle you then and there, “Is there dirt on my face?” you snap him out of his fantasies. Thankfully, you hadn’t caught him openly gazing at your neck or your face for that matter.

“I…” a tinge of red, one that seems invisible to the naked eye, suddenly dusts his ears. He pokes out his tongue and licks his dry lips, “Sorry, you looked pretty.”

“Hm.” you hummed, took off the gloves, “You say that too much these days. Is that the only word you know of?” if you’d receive compensation every time your husband would say those compliments these past few days, you’d probably be a millionaire by now. It’s not like you minded it though, the way he said it had been so innocent and you were fond of getting a kick out of it whenever your husband would start stammering just a bit as if he was collecting himself.

When you catch him randomly looking at you, you can’t help but notice how he stares at you as if you’re the only person in the world he’d do that for. Gojo Satoru doesn’t need to say words, a lot of it was all in his azure eyes.

You stood up, ready to grab the water can, yet your husband stopped you by taking a hold of your wrist, “Sit down with me for a second.” he invites you, softly tugging your hand. Your face contorts to a rather confused expression for a moment.

“I can do that later-”

“Please?” he cuts you off, he lowers his shades just a bit so you could see his ocean blue ones behind them. You walk closer as he guides you to his lap, eyes doubling in size at the position that you were both in and skin prickling just a bit but you’re sure it’s not because of the weather. You feel his arms snake itself on your waist as he rests his head on your chest and listens to the way your heart beats, making you raise a brow.

“What’s wrong?” you place one hand on his hair as you lightly tread through his white locks, another habit you’re starting to pick up these days.

“I just miss you,” he mumbled, he’s fond of listening to the way your heart beats quickly for him these days. It’s an addictive sound that he probably wouldn’t trade for anything else, “I feel like I haven’t seen you in a long time.”

There's something about the way that Satoru held you. It’s one that you find rather winsome and endearing, for his rough hands hold so much power within them; you may not have seen it firsthand but you’ve heard stories of them from Megumi. As he envelops you though in his brace, you feel nothing but pleasantry and mellowness.

It’s quite a feat, you knew how hard it was to do that but he seemed to not have minded putting in the extra effort.

“Ah,” you twist a few strands together, starting to entertain him with conversation since it sinks in that he’d be out and about again these next few days because of activities for the Tokyo and Kyoto exchange event, “How was the surprise for Kugisaki-san and Megumi, by the way?” you look down on him as he rests his chin on your clavicles, the closeness is enough to feel his warm breath and have your noses touching.

“I feel as if you’re going to say ‘I told you so’ if I tell you what happened.”

You narrowed your gaze and pressed your lips on the tip of his nose, pulling away slightly when you felt his grip on your waist suddenly tighten, “Satoru,” you started, trying to be reasonable, “I told you so.” you’re mildly aware of what went down, judging by the sounds of it, you were right.

“Hmph,” he slouches like a child being pried away from opening presents a night before Christmas, “Yuuji seemed happy though and that’s all that mattered..” he frowned, you feel your lips twitch to a smile at his caring disposition, “plus Megumi and Nobara looked happier after.”

“Ah well, I still stand by with my opinion that you’d garner a better response if he’d just walk in.”

Your husband ignores your response and just inches you closer to him as he nuzzles his head on your neck. You could feel his hot breath as he lazily just relaxed there yet it's enough to make your stomach do flips at the sudden contact. His hands remain planted on your waist as he draws small circles on top of the light cotton fabric, “Hey Y/N…” he asked, his voice reverberating on your skin. Your pupils dilate at the smooth tone that comes out of his lips like a melody from a song.

“Hm?” you try to compose your beating heart.

“Have you ever been kissed here?”

“Where?”

“Here.”

You feel the oxygen leave your body when you feel his calloused fingers trace the outlines of your neck, the action making you shiver slightly yet your husband keeps a passive face as he just lays there, waiting for your response, “No.” you confessed, your voice dropping to a lower tone, “I can’t say I have.”

“Mhm,” he hummed, “Can I?” his lips brushing the shell of your ear as you shut your eyes tight at the sensation, it’s a foreign feeling that’s pooling down on the pits of your stomach yet it’s one you don’t want to shy away from, “...kiss you here?” he asks.

You intake a sharp breath and nod, “I...yes, you can…” and you feel a kitten lick on the lobe of your ear and warm lips brushing on the curvature of your neck, gently dipping down the smooth expanse of it. He stops for a moment, as if he was taking in your scent, and you feel him sucking your skin, making you suddenly grip on his hair tighter.

“Too much?” your husband looks up to stare at your eyes, stopping his ventures with a skittish lopsided grin yet you remain wide-eyed, lips parted slightly as if you were trying to assess what had just happened. For a moment, Satoru thinks he has messed up and he’s ready to apologize but you dip your head lower to capture his lips, instead.

Satoru shuts his eyes when he feels you rake your hands on his white hair,messing it up. His body feels as if it’s in space, light at the way you take his breath away literally and figuratively.

You slowly start to sit up, nibbling on his bottom lip as you unhurriedly break the kiss away. It’s only now that Satoru notices how odd the position has become; you're now kneeling down, his leg is between yours and if you were to sit down there, he’d feel your panties on his thigh.

It’s enough to make his pants feel tight, “Satoru?” you place your palm on his cheek just as you take a seat there, the muscle on his thigh spasming when he feels your clothed folds on the rough expanse of his jeans, “Are you alright?” his ears flared up like someone had doused it on gasoline and lit it up on fire.

God, with how you are doing it now, he feels like he’s going to cum in his pants, “Y/N.” he sighed. He begs you not to move that knee yet lady luck isn’t on his side now, just as you did, you look down at the bulge and stare at it for a moment.

He’s 28. He’s someone who has good self control yet when he feels your sex on top of him with those cute laced underwear he’s seen you folding during laundry day, he might just fall apart like a teenage boy.

“Do you need help?” it’s the way you had suggested it as if you wouldn’t hesitate to do such things but your husband feels like things are going too fast. He had just confessed to you a few days ago that he loves you.

“No, I-”

“Just my hands.” you mumbled, “I know a few things that can help you out…” you added, tilting your head slightly as you touch his flushed cheeks, caressing it with your thumb, “We’re bound to do it anyways and you can teach me what makes you feel good.”

Mind you, he’s thrown off once again by how casually you say such things in broad daylight in the middle of the garden of all places, thank god that there’s a tall fire wall and no one could see what was going on here, “Are you always this confident?” he rests his head on your chest, neck turning red at the brazen way you had put it out there as if you just asked him if he wanted some dessert with his meal. He’d always thought you were bashful and he didn’t want to pull such topics up this early on. Now that he’s here, he takes it all back.

You’d be the teasing one in this relationship, not him.

“Not really,” you muttered honestly, offering him relief had been the last thing in your mind ever these days but it also didn’t seem right to tell him to get another sexual partner this time. Besides, there's something about Satoru that makes you just want to take care of him especially if he’s like this because of you, “I mean, you’re my husband and I… well, I don’t mind helping you out with it…” he feels your hands ghost the top of his pants, making him gulp down.

“You really don’t have to do this…” he feels you move on his thigh, shifting your weight, the feeling of your clothed cunt rubbing on him is enough to have him start taking in deep shaky breaths, “...Ah, you’re so unfair, Y/N…” he grumbles, a small moan stuck on his throat.

“What did I do?” you blink, brows furrowed together in stupefaction as to why he’s so worked up about you sitting on his thigh. It’s pretty much the same position from a while ago, “I haven’t even done anything yet.”

If only you knew about the small fantasies that started to worm it’s way through Satoru’s head at that moment, he doesn’t want to be perverted but you in a sundress is enough to lurk through his dreams at night -- and probably at the shower.

Satoru shouldn’t have asked you to sit on his lap, between the both of you, it seemed like he was the hormonal and virginal. All confidence he had a while ago is stripped away and he’s sitting there, completely head over heels in love with you and your shamelessness, “I can feel your panties, Y/N.” he breathed, intaking a sharp and shaky breath.

“Do you not like lace?”

“That’s not the point.” He loves lace, he loves anything you wear!

“Would you prefer me with no underwear at all?” you nonchalantly retort, teasing him a bit more.

“Y/N.” He exclaims, head turning fuzzier as he imagines you riding his thigh right here and right now with no underwear and your boobs splayed out for him to suck on. No one would see you both plus he really liked the way the sun was hitting your face this morning, you reminded him of a fairy with that gentle aura. It also fitted that little spell you’d put him on whenever you’re next to him, “Don’t...Don’t say that…” He tries to scold your response that fuels his indecent fantasy.

Yet all he hears is your soft chuckles, plunging him back to reality.

It was truly comical to see your husband like this, how he’s weak to the touch you give him. These past week you’ve come to notice how whenever you initiate contact, he’d turn mildly embarrassed by it but nonetheless he takes it like a man who's parched in a desert, quenching whatever you gave him like there was desperation beneath it.

Gojo Satoru longed for such things from you that you’re starting to wonder if before all of this had happened, those little fleeting touches you’d give him had made him feel the same thing.

It made you feel appalled just how starved he seemed despite only being away from you for a week or two. You didn’t realize just how much effect you had on him until now.

You lean in to give him a peck on the nose, “Alright, sorry for teasing you.” you half-apologized, ready to remove yourself from his hold but Satoru doesn’t let go of you, making you raise a brow, “Satoru… are you going to let me go?” you murmured. A part of you is aware that he’s just hesitant to ask because you’ve only exchanged pleasantries of emotions a few days ago but there's something so facetious about how shy he seemed to be, “Perhaps, you do want me to help you?” he feels your hands drop lower on his throbbing member, lightly palming it.

“I want to say no…” he confessed, Adam's apple bobbing up and down, “but you’re making it really hard for me here…” he mumbled. He buries his head on the crooks of your neck in mild embarrassment, inhaling the vanilla body wash you’d use, a scent he’s getting addicted to alongside that damn lavender essence. All those things had probably turned to drugs for him because of how he liked it when it was mixed with your body chemistry.

Is it normal that now he’s got a taste of something he never thought he’d have, he’s falling in too deep and fast?

“Hm.” you hummed, moving back to cup his face for a moment, “Mind you, it’s not bad to ask me about it. We’re married, not teenagers.” your fingers slowly trace the curvatures of his face up until his sunglasses, carefully removing them to finally reveal his bright blue eyes, widen and dilated from what you’ve been doing to him.

You give him one small peck there, making him flutter his eyes shut, “It’s okay…” you ushered him, “I’ll take care of you…” you feel his firm muscles underneath your panties clench making you draw your lower lip between your teeth to hold back a small moan. Your reaction makes another idea worm it’s way to his head instead.

If you were really doing this, he can’t really be the only one to feel good.

“Hey,” he takes a hold of your hand, “Can we do something else instead?” he watches the confidence you have wash away in a second as his hands snake on your waist.

“What do you have in mind?” you tilt your head, placing your arms on top of his shoulders.

He plays with your hair for a moment, running his hands through them, “Something that I hope will make you feel good.” He mumbles.

Before you could respond, Satoru gently takes a hold of your nape and pulls you in closer for a kiss. It's slow and sensuous as if he’s taking his time unwrapping a present, he sucks on your bottom lip as his fingers curl to lightly press a spot on your neck, eliciting a soft sigh from you, lips slightly parting.

The kiss starts to turn messy unlike those usual soft and languid ones you’d share — theirs a sense of wonton as he fucks his tongue into your mouth with no qualms of shame and you try to respond with the same fervor as well.

He pulls away steadily as your hands smooth down to his chest, the feeling of soft fabric beneath your touch and the smell of his expensive cologne is the only thing you’re aware of. There’s no self-conscious moment nor discomfiture silence, just the overwhelming sound of your heart beating like the loud snare of a drum and your skin burning as if his touch had trailed fires on it.

“Can I continue?” he softly asks as you breathlessly nod your head and he doesn’t need to be told twice, he starts trailing kisses down your jaw to the curvatures of your neck, sucking at your sensitive parts as you card his hair back and press yourself closer to him, your eyes are shut tight the entire time in gratification as you throw your head back to give him more room when he revels your body.

His large hand find their way to your thigh, the fabric bunching up as he starts running his calloused hands up and down on your soft skin, giving it tender and subtle squeezes, “Ride me, Y/N.” his tone switches to an octave lower as he whispers on your ear, nipping on the lobe.

You're so lost at the sensation and pools of unfamiliar emotion boiling in your stomach that you let out a soft, “What?”

Your husband’s hands disappear under your dress, tracing your bare curves under the clustered up fabric in an up and down motion before settling and gripping your pelvis, the mild but somehow cool wind slapping your bare skin with the only thing keeping you warm is his large hands, “Ride me.” he repeats, drawing small circles on your skin, “You move, I’ll help you…” he reassures you, flexing the muscle of his thigh once again as your toes curl at the unfamiliar wetness starting to form in your underwear

“Satoru, I-I don’t know-“

Your husband, instead, cups your ass tugging you closer. The sudden sensation of the rough material makes you let out a soft ‘oh’

“Just like that, alright?” He directs you, kissing you lightly on your temples, “...Don’t worry I’m here…” playing with the garter of your panties underneath your dress, stretching it and letting it land on your skin.

Hesitantly, you start rolling your hips, the rough stretch of his jeans alongside the thin cloth of your damp lace panties is enough to let out another low strangled moan. Satoru watches you for a moment, the sight in front of him makes his breathing hitch when he sees you starting to get lost in ecstasy. He begins to guide you in short strides as you steady yourself in his hold, your clit suddenly throbbing at the new sensation.

Your husband plunges his head down to your collarbones, using his other hand to grope your clothed breasts, “Y/N…” his voice resonates, “I-I wanna…”

You’re so vocal and sensitive and all he wants to hear are those moans dipped in sweet honey.

“Go…” your husband doesn’t even hesitate and tugs the sleeve of your dress down, taking the bra off and latching his mouth onto your nipple, “Oh,Satoru…fuck...” His name comes out of your lips like a soft chant as you start grinding yourself on his thigh muscle, making him suck on your breast a bit harder when he hears you curse. He palm’s the other one, cupping it and giving it a squeeze before giving your nipple a little rub in between his long fingers.

Your hands find their way back to his head as you push him down further and bury him in your mounds when he starts sucking the other— all you could feel is his saliva pooling and his shaky breaths.

“Satoru…” He had you seeing stars in the daytime. You feel yourself bouncing slightly as his hands go under your panties to cup your bare ass, squeezing its flesh as he whispers praises on how you were so quick to learn and how good you felt on him.

“That’s right, baby…” those nails are going to leave marks, “Keep fucking your husbands thigh…” he tightens them for you as he continues to use his lips to play with your nipples, grazing it with his teeth and lapping it with his tongue after.

Your hand starts trailing lower and lower until your fingers ghost his clothed length, lightly palming it before zipping it down, eliciting a soft and sexual groan from your husband.

You gently grip his fat cock between your dainty fingers, making Satoru pull away, a spit trail connected to your breast as he throws his head back to look at you and the beautiful mess that you had been reduced to.

The sight of your wet tits, your clothes rumpled, the feeling of your damp folds rubbing on his thigh, alongside your fingers thumbing down his slit has him in a rhapsody of indulgence. Shivers come down his body like electricity when he watches you spit on your fingers and use it with his pre-cum to stroke him up and down, gradually increasing the tension between your fingertips.

Your husband returns his hand under your dress to grip your pelvis, resting his head on your shoulder as he lets out soft whimpers, sounds that’ll only be reserved for you just so you could hear how fucked up he is under your touch, “Right there, baby...” he rasps just as you start fondling his balls with your wet hand, “God, only my Y/N can make me feel this good...” he pants on your neck like an animal in heat when you start stroking his cock faster than a while ago, massaging the wet tip with your thumb.

A tight knot starts forming on your stomach as he grabs your ass tighter and pushes you down further to help you feel better, “Satoru…” it comes out as a soft whisper, “Feels weird…” you muttered.

Satoru’s grips on you lessens, eyes suddenly wide that he probably had made you uncomfortable, “Where?”

“F-feel like somethings coming out…” you confessed, body turning hot and vision turning blurry. Your husband could only let out a sigh of relief as he quickly pecks your lips again.

“Just keep riding me...” he encouraged you while he keeps fucking your hands, “Keep riding me…you’ll feel better after…” he assures you while you try to nod, trusting his words.

Satoru doesn’t give you a chance to stop, the pressure along with the way you start rocking your hips harder is enough to reduce you to his own little mess. Something that he’s delighted to see since it’s only for him. Just like all those other spectrums and shades of you, you look absolutely beautiful and he’s consumed by so much desire for you.

You start babbling his name, your strokes on his cock become sluggish, and your breathing turns labored as he keeps whispering how pretty you sound with only his name going past your lips, “Satoru...don’t do…” you keened, shutting your eyes tight when you feel his tongue crudely licking up the small trail of saliva falling past your lips.

“Go on, Y/N...It’s just me...Your husband…” he whispers, with one last flex of his thigh, you start quivering and creaming your panties. Your body is reduced to nothing but a puddle of pleasure just as he starts cumming on your fingers as well.

You both let out muffled and languid breaths, everything around you is white noise at your first orgasm; the sticky feeling of your underwear, your husbands wet jeans, your cum filled hand, along with the smell of sex between the both of you is enough to make your body feel warm.

That was a new feeling.

The mix of what seemed to be satisfaction and euphoria is messing with your head. You’ve been told that activities such as this would noy be enjoyable but all you felt was bliss this time. He made you feel so good that you were reduced to a crumbling mess in front of him and you don’t seem to mind it.

Satoru gazes at the bead of sweat on your temple and the way your hair is sticking on your skin. You truly did look heavenly under this light. Maybe he should throw in a suggestion that you should do it more here in your gardens, there's just something about the way the gleaming rays of the sun hits you like you had specks of golden dust on your face that made you look more radiant in this area.

He starts tucking the stray strands of your hair behind your ear, rubbing the shell, “Do you want water?” He inquires yet he catches your gaze looking at your defiled hand.

“Oh,” Satoru sheepishly grins, he completely forgot about that, “You can wipe it her-” you ignore him and instead start sucking each of your fingers. Your husband is suddenly taken aback by your sensuous actions as you swallow him down, the bitter and tangy taste seemed rather new to the palate. He feels his dick twitch at the sound of a loud pop, “Fuck.” he drawled, there’s cum stain on your lips and for some odd reason he’s had an epiphany.

god is truly a woman and he truly wouldn’t get down on his knees to worship you.

“Y/N…” he complained, making you laugh out loud at his reaction. You take note of the way he turns as red as a tomato as he starts letting out a muffled groan when he hides his head on your shoulders.

“You’re right, I had a great time with you here,” you acknowledged, making your husband look up to you so he he could shake his head in embarrassment with the way you used his own words and turning it into what seemed to be; an inside joke, “...thanks for accompanying me out here.” you uttered just for him, placing the dry palm on his cheek to lean him closer to you just so you could give him a wet kiss on the opposite side. There’s only lilted amusement on your tone and a calm hypnotic gaze as you collect yourself in front of him. With one last smile, you remove yourself from his hold and go inside to change your clothes and prepare lunch for the both of you.

Satoru’s left in the garden, cock still out and jeans wet from your earlier actions. His head is too far up the clouds because of recent events. Mind you, he actually thought he’d be smooth as butter but it seems like you’ve done your job as always; mess with him and his head.

You really were an odd couple together.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk fluff #gojo satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru #jjk smut #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #📝📝.minazuki mini series #hostclub.adulting #gojo smut #jujutsu kaisen smut

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quirklessidiot · 3 years

Text

; inglorious bastard (Crown Prince!Hirofumi Yoshida x Bodyguard!F!Y/N) ; drama, sick romance, and mild angst (one shot) ; Tyrannical princes don’t care for their subordinates, especially the ones of the lower caste yet Hirofumi Yoshida is more than willing to show just how far and how much he cares for you -- his cute little soldat.

Warnings: language, crossdressing!Y/N, mentions of social class, mentions of war, blood, violence, attempted rape (verbal harrasement), mild yandere!yoshida (soldat is french for soldier)

notes: the title of the oneshot banner is entitled, 'running away at night' havent read it but yeah, i finally get to write for chainsaw man oof T-T @bachirawr thanks for the push missmaam :")

csm library

The god of luck had never been by your side.

Now that you look at it, as your ass lands flat on the rough soil of the stables with your back pressed against the hard wooden fence with three full sized men in front of you, you’ve come to accept the fact that this might be the end for you.

Of course, you could fight them.

They had more handicaps than you had, their stances were off and relaxed. It would be easy for you to try and dismantle their little group.

You were considered to be a prodigy of swordsmanship after all, the eldest ‘boy’ of your family who is apparently going to bring fame and glory back to your fallen house. A story that could be told to children. For usually, these tales would lead to happily ever after and beautiful endings. At least, that’s what it was supposed to be.

In your case though, it was the opposite.

This is because you are no man.

You are a woman through and through.

Your older brother, the one whose name you had stolen, is a coward. He had ran away along with his lover to elope in a far-off town, only to leave a letter addressed to your weary mother and sickly father. With the war brewing in the west and the blood shed not even stopping for a moment, the emperor had ordered each house may it be the poor, the ones fallen from grace, or the rich to send one male to participate in the battlefield.

You couldn’t let your father go, he may have served twenty or so years ago but he’s feeble and at times, amnesic and careless due to age, something you couldn’t blame him for. The very moment he steps foot in the battlefield, he’d be as good as gone and that would only affect your poor mother’s mental health and well-being. Your youngest brother, on the other hand, was only sixteen years of age when the news of the war had broken out. It’s clear he was too young and immature to face such terrors. His swordsmanship, as well, wasn’t as good as yours nor your older brother’s. You could tell that he wouldn't last even a minute out here.

You had to step up to save face and try to give your family their glory back.

It’s a shame that with the events going on in front of you now you wouldn’t be able to do so. The ones who had found you out were sons of earls and viscounts and your father was only but a knight, of a fallen peerage at that. If you were to hurt them, you could have your hands cut off and your eyes gouged out. If you were to sit still and let them have their way with you, there is no telling what would happen after, especially if you got caught. The crowned prince that you served would have your head separated from your body due to perjury.

The tyrant prince hated liars, most especially.

You draw your lips between your teeth, enough to taste the coppery rancid on your palette whilst you try to think of a better response to the circumstance you were in, “No wonder the crowned prince likes having you around, L/N…” the brunette grinned, bending down to your level to trace a finger up your jaw. Their is only abhorrence painted on your features to show distaste towards them, “Not only are you not hard to look at but you also have holes enough for us…” you try to not let the fear waver you, instead, you only spat at there boots.

“You better hope for shit I won’t have your heads sent back to your families…” your e/c hues are only filled by fire and blood, if they were going to do what you think they were doing, you might as well cut off their limbs.

The man lets out a belly-load of laughter, not even scared because they knew you were just a girl now, “What’cha gon’ do about it, princess?” the other one teased, his accent leaking off as he bends down to your level, “You can’t touch us, were-”

Before he could even finish his sentence, you grab him by the hair, letting his face kiss the ground. The remaining pair had their eyes as wide as saucers when their companion let out a painful wheeze, their positions comprised. The man’s crimson substance trickled down his nose and stained the sacred grounds of the crowned prince’s personal stable.

You were going to get in trouble for this but you might as well go down there with a proper fight. Swiftly, you grab one of the sticks at the back and snap them in half, bending downwards in a fighting stance, “You do know that his highness has me on the battlefield, right?” you tilt your head, raising your self-built weapon, “...Right next to him...Do you actually think that I’m just there for decoration?” your eyes narrow explicitly, pointing at the sharp end of the stake.

The one on the ground tries to raise his head but you only kick him square at the face, letting him out another groan. This was the problem with men, they loved to think that women were like glass.

Vulnerable.

Destructible.

It’s a shame that they forgot that if they tried to break it, it could cut them and make them bleed.

“You fucking bi-” one of them tries to explain, reaching out to throw a sloppy punch but you easily dodge him and jab the blunt part of the stick to his stomach. Despite the military training, noble men were easier to pummel down than the ones of the lower caste. Ironically, they were not as strong or daunting as the crowned prince you serve. They were idiots who could be lumped with the likes of a court jester.

You turn to the other one, kicking him in the nether regions and before the bloody nose individual could get ahold of you, you grab him by the neck, arm locking him and pointing the sharp end of the stick at his neck, pressing it lightly just so he could feel the end, “Anyone goes near, I’m puncturing the veins and this guy dies on the spot.” he only lets out a loud squeak, face turning ashen white that you seemed to be serious with your threat.

“Huh,” a familiar voice interrupts the four of you, making your hair stand on the end. Your tunneled vision finds a very familiar and ominous presence standing there, an amused smile on his lips as he slowly raises his hands to give a round of applause as if he was engrossed by some sick opera, “You never cease to amaze me, my little soldat…” you shakily let go of the noble, dropping the handmade weapon to the ground.

“Your...your highness…” you’re immediately on your knees, head tilted downwards, not even daring to look him in the eye. The three nobles follow suit, fear flowing through their veins as well from the ill-humored royal in front of you.

With obsidian eyes that could rival the night, midnight-black hair swept to the side, and a strapping built from being the front-liner of the war for the past four years; Hirofumi Yoshida’s beauty could be comparable to a fallen angel. The man was as cruel and could be the incarnate of Lucifer himself. He lived in blood shed, bathed in chaos, and only was interested in having the throne for himself.

You knew he was just waiting patiently to strike them all down to get what he wanted.

Everyone was just his prey.

“Don’t stop on my account, my cute soldat…” he walks towards the four of you, the heavy footsteps of his boots are the only thing that can be heard, “They were bothering you, weren’t they?” he turns to them, “You do know I don’t like my people getting touched, right?” He only draws a small part of his blade and the men’s eyes widen. faces turning ashy and grey at the sudden threat.

Yoshida had a facet of insanity, every tyrant had one because no one of the sane mind would commit those different atrocities, only he was better at hiding it, “It’s merely a little spat, your highness.” You try to play down the situation, not wanting to see carnage in front of you, “I-I was at fault…” you shut your eyes tight.

“Huh…” the raven-haired smile turned upside down at your response and without even saying anything more, he unsheathed his sword, slitting one of the individuals head down with not even a single bit of hesitation, the sound of a head falling and rolling down the ground makes you internally shake while his other companions let out a small shriek.

Despite seeing such violence these past four years, his unfazed attitude towards butchery was something else.

“You two,” he points the sharp end of his sword, “Leave... unless you want to be living pieces of meat for the wolves tonight...”

You watch them scamper away like rats yet you remain on the spot. You try to maintain your calm façade, had he heard of the conversation? What would he ever do to you, now? You want to raise your hand, maybe even beg for him to spare you if he had ever heard you but he only thumbs down the blood that sullied your features.

“You have something to say to me, my little soldat?”

“I- your highness-” you try to stammer out an excuse but you could hear him clicking his tongue in dismay. You were done for, he’d have your head in a pike. Worse, he’d deliver it to your family’s front door.

You could only imagine your mother’s face.

You’re ready to be the receiving end of his blade but instead of the sharp end, only callus hands cup one of your cheek as he bends down to your eye level. Dilated pupils only stare at your fear stricken ones, his rough fingers tilt your head to face him, “My, I’m quite stupid…” he remarks, “How could I not have known that my cute little soldat is actually a woman?”

When the devil finds out who you truly are, you could only hope that he’d strike a deal at the expense of your life but you know that this tyrannical prince was not that merciful, “I-I...I have committed agave sin and I shall pay with my life, your majesty.” You try to look down but he tightens his hold, refusing to let you go, “Please don’t kill my family, they know nothing of this.” you truthfully spoke.

The midnight-haired prince continues to smile, how adorable. No wonder you bathed separately from all the other swines and you’d usually avoid his gaze and turn slightly red when he tried to change in front of you and invited you to that hot spring one time.

It seemed like that fifth year resignation wouldn’t be a problem anymore. By the looks of it, he could have you by his side permanently now. His cute little soldat, forever by his side.

“Now why would I kill my cute little soldat?” he hummed, continuing to cup your cheek. You could feel a jolt of ominous darkness fill your thoughts, nothing would ever come good after this, “I’m not sure if you’ve heard but I’m looking for an empress...I’m sure the empire would value a strong and strategic individual such as you as my partner…”

There is only the inability to even let out a reply, the tightness of breath as if someone had ripped out your voice box. That wasn't the response you were prepared for, “I could never, I do not stand on par with his highness…” you tried to excuse yourself with anything but that sort of life. You’d never want to enter the court, especially with such a man.

“What are you talking about?” he mutters, dipping his head down, brushing his lips on the shell of your ear. The sudden intimate contact only makes your face turn pallid and tremble like a rabbit caught in a trap, “Not only would you make a great mother of the empire, you’d also be a great mother to our children in the future…”

#csm x reader #chainsaw man #chainsawman imagines #csm imagines #csm #csm headcannons #chainsaw man imagines #chainsaw man x you #hirofumi x reader #chainsaw man x reader #chainsawman x reader #yoshida hirofumi #hostclub.adulting #csm x you #this is simply a self indulgent fic #i know CSM fever hasnt invaded tumblr #T-T

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quirklessidiot · 3 years

Text

title : minazuki [15: nirvana] pairing : gojo satoru x f!y/n Genre: angst, arranged-marriage au, mystery/thriller, mature, enemies-to-lovers-ish, and very slow burn (canon compliant-ish for ch-0 to the anime)

Summary: In which Y/N L/N is placed under a union she has no choice but to partake for the sake of her survival.

Warnings: smut (roleplay- servant&lady (use of the term jusha which means man servant) fingering, f!oral recieving, edging if you squint, Satoru being a tease, cum stains, kinda filthy but very sweet, satoru degrading himself lmfao), mentions of gore (someones brains being pulled out and fed to some animals), mentions of gojo’s & nanamis past arc (SPOILERS), mentions of a dead fetus, mentions of anxiety

notes: I had fun reading ur theories and seeing whats going to go down between Y/N and who she is, thankfully you’ll be getting ur answer soon <3

series masterlist || taglist closed ||

Chapter Summary: it’s been rough with continuous terrors along with the new load of information but your husband is there to prove that he’s more than willing to be a good distraction.

You blink once, then twice to adjust your vision. A burning sensation runs through your skin as you lick your dry, chapped lips. The feeling of soft snow beneath your boots and the sound of an ambulance from faraway could be heard. The sky above is grey as flakes continue to fall from the sky to cover the ground underneath.

You’re in Kyoto.

You’re at the school.

You look down to find yourself wearing the prescribed uniform along with an additional layer of coat and some gloves to protect you from the blistering cold, there's a book on your hand. The old copy of Momotaro that you kept from your childhood. One that you had safely hidden in efforts to go back to from time to time whenever you’d find it again while you were cleaning up the closet.

It’s a first to be here. You’ve never had nightmares from your own memories just yet.

“Y/N?” a familiar voice calls out to you. A few feet away stands a familiar raven-haired individual, obsidian eyes with flecks of wonderment, and cheeks flushed from the weather, on his hands are cups of hot chocolate along with a familiar bag of donuts he’d get for you during this time of the year.

“Yu.” you whispered to yourself, slowly taking a step back to give you both some distance. Your throat suddenly turns hoarse and dry, your hands curling inward, “What are you doing here?”

He gives you a familiar smile, one that you’re fairly accustomed to since he gave that same expression to you every single time he’d come to visit you. You know every memory you have with Yu Haibara like the back of your palm, you treasure those moments to the point where you could list it off your head but this one was unfamiliar and it made you feel like you were in a catastrophic sinkhole, plummeting you down to the abyss of nothingness.

“What’s wrong?” he tilts his head, “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“You’re not supposed to be here.”

“Why not?”

“This is a nightmare…” you mumbled, “You’re not…” your voice cracks, your legs shaking as if you were about to fall any moment, “You’re not my nightmare...I…” you try to intake a deep shaky breath then another. Looking around you but the place remains bare. Despite the vast openness, you can’t seem to leave. The young man remains in his stead, continuing to give you that familiar beam. It’s only then that you realize what this is about, how personal everything was starting to get. This would only mark the beginning of what seemed to be the end, “Yu...please don’t do this to me…” you begged, slowly sinking to your knees on the soft snow.

“What do you mean, Y/N?” you could only look at his feet, refusing to trail your gaze upwards and stare at him in those eyes again. This was too cruel, even for you. The fact that your mind can conjure this up when you hadn’t dreamt of the man because his very image would crumble you to nothingness due to the guilt you continued to bear.

“Please leave, Yu.” you let out a hoarse sigh, your chin dropping to your chest as your posture slumps, an ache forms at the back of your throat as the tightness of your chest continues to slowly plunge you into, what seemed to be, the worst nightmare you could only possibly think of.

“I can’t…” he only says, “You won’t let me…”

“Y/N?” someone suddenly calls out your name, you’re suddenly snapped back to reality as the new voice comes towards you. A familiar blonde stood there with a bouquet of white daisies on one hand and a box of strawberry jelly donuts on the other. You place the pink carnations on the tombstone, lifeless eyes drifting away towards the new company. You stand up to pat the invisible dirt away.

The dreams are becoming more vivid and realistic. They’re not of strangers anymore but of actual events and people you’ve met in your life. You’re not getting any better, instead, you feel worse. It’s as if a switch had been flipped. Gone were the days when you’d be seeing unfamiliar individuals. They got personal.

You’d like to blame it on Ren’s sudden disclosure. If things were bad before, they got just as worse.

Just this morning you had hallucinated a dead fetus inside your toilet, you were this close to letting out a muffled scream. It was then you only realized it was just blood from your nose that was dripping on the water, no dead fetus’

Something had been truly wrong with your cognitions that it was already affecting your daily life. The subtle effects of the lack of sleep and anxiety creeping in like a monster grappling you from beneath your bed. Even Satoru couldn’t deny how it was affecting you.

“Kento?” you blink, “You’re...what a coincidence…” your lips part slightly as you stare at his casual attire, “Day off?”

“Sort of.” he places the bouquet next to yours and returns his attention towards you, “You should’ve told me you were coming.”

“I...I didn’t want to intrude...The school is busy, aren’t they? The cursed womb shenanigans and all that…Satoru told me that everyone is swamped and they need all sorcerers on deck.”

“Ah…” Kento nods understandingly, “I’m visiting an old friend along with another old friend… I’m sure I can make time...” hesitantly, he eyes you for a moment and then lifts up the box on his hand, “I have an extra, want to split?”

You could only let out a strained smile and nod.

It turns out, the blonde had come prepared. He brought a garden mat with him and some usual snacks. It seemed like he’d be staying here for a few moments longer. The whole picturesque scenario reminded you very much of those times when you were a teenager. Yu, Kento, and then you would sit down in the hidden parts of the field, eating something good under the heat of the afternoon sun.

Only now it was a tombstone instead of a cherubic boy.

“I lied.”

You turn to him, powdered donut between your fingers and a confused look etched on your features by the sudden statement.

“Gojo-san had me come here. He told me that you were visiting Yu for the first time today so he took my work and told me to come with you…” your arms hung loosely and gaze turns flat at the mention of your husband, “I wouldn’t have come here on my own accord. I haven’t seen Yu nor this tombstone since he was buried.” He adds, honestly. There’s a pang on his heart at the mention of the verisimilitude of the situation. He didn’t have the stomach to bring himself in front of that grave stone, the state of his deceased friend had been long accepted for years but still it didn’t make it any easier.

He was there until his last breath after all, carrying him behind his back and trying to get him to safety just so they could have a body to bury.

Your lips part to a small o.

“Guess we’re both horrible friends for that part.” the blonde points out, the self-decapitory joke is enough to make him let out a melancholic laugh. Yet it’s one that makes you look away, instead. You did regret not getting the message back when you were both teenagers. How the blonde man’s hostility was already a foreboding of what’s to come to them both in the near future. Not only had you killed Yu with your recklessness but you had ultimately scarred Kento to the point where it affected and shifted his whole view on things.

“I…” It’s clear that you’re reluctant to say anything or even talk about it. Kento would usually bring the subject of Yu up, not you and you’d usually just go with the flow, “Maybe it’s just me…” your friend stops half-way through his doughnut, your candor suddenly throwing him off and the whole mood between the both of you turns rather sour.

“Do you still blame yourself?”

“Of course I do.” you admitted, “...I always did.”

Kento takes a bite of his doughnut, he chews it for a long minute as if he was evaluating your words carefully. He doesn’t even look your way while you remain there, waiting for his response, “Why?” he inquired, finally turning to you.

“I...he...he died...because…” there’s a tightness forming around your eyes as you start to blink rapidly to avoid tears coming down your face. You’re unsure of how to word it but Kento’s expression remains neutral as if you weren’t talking about a burdensome topic. Between the three of you then, he had actually always been the steady head. Remaining calm as a cucumber in times of these situations.

“Have I ever told you, Y/N…” he finally says, rubbing his two fingers to rid the powdered sugar, his voice remaining smooth as silk, “... of that day?”

The strong gust of wind passes by as leaves start to move through the ground like it had legs of its own. The colors of the clouds were of soft orange and red, like the season of fall had spread through the heavens. It’s a beautiful day for anyone but you.

“No.”

“He talked about you after he talked about his family…” he only says, “He told me to get you those mochi’s that you like wrapped in the same box he’d always give you so that you’d at least have something to cheer yourself up after the news.” he turns to your side, his face blank but eyes filled with nothing but expressive grief as if he had been carrying this for far too long, “I told you that day I left, didn’t I? He thought of you until the very end, Y/N.”

“But…”

Kento looked down at his hand, remembering the day so clearly as if it was just yesterday. The warm hands that clasped those cold finger tips, blood-soaked shirts, and a defeated look smeared across him as he could only cling onto his friend and hope for some miracle to happen.

“I’m not asking you to forget.” he sighed, “I know I never did...We just, I think it’s just time we accepted the fact that we couldn’t really have done anything at that time…and we were just stupid teenagers...” was all he muttered, looking down at his feet.

Could it really be something you could turn your back to?

Just like those old times, you plop your head on his shoulder and continue to stare at the sun that was about to set, “You never did cry that day when I told you…” was all he said, “Maybe you can do it now…”

You could only shut your eyes, “I’ll cry if you will.”

“One of us has to hold the fort and comfort the other.”

“More like stay alive, instead.” you could only mumble, “Don’t die, Kento. Let’s just...let’s just both try not to die, alright? For Yu?”

Kento’s jaw feels tight as he gnashes his teeth together. It was something hard to keep but he understood what you meant, you both were remnants of a friendship. If you lost another, you wondered just what would happen to the one left behind, “Yeah, lets.” he promised, giving your head a little pat.

So he’ll try his best, not just for Yu Haibara but for you as well. You’ll both make it out of this miserable world fine and alive.

Your friend leaves you there after for a brief period, letting you say and give your piece since it was your first time to see his gravestone. The quietude isn’t haunting nor is it heavy, instead, it gives you small comfort as you bend down to watch it. You slowly trace the characters engraved on the stone, eyes following each one.

“I dreamt of you last night, Yu.” you finally spoke to no one in particular. The image of an angelic-looking boy comes to mind as you sit across the tombstone, imagining that you were talking to him in particular. The features that are only filled and radiated with warmth is enough to slightly put you more into ease, “and you’re right, I don’t think I can ever let you go. You, Hana...you both are something I’ll be carrying until the end…and I’d gladly take punishment for what I did to the both of you.”

Maybe they weren’t angry.

Who knows?

The dead never talked.

In the end, the self-loathing and the unforgiving nature you had would be directed to yourself. You had realized that your grandmother’s words were right.

You aren’t meant to be here.

Although you’re happy staying next to your husband, you’d have to admit that you’d be haunted until your last breath of all the sins and the weight you’re bearing, “I’ll carry the anger you couldn’t let out on me…” is all you could say as your eyes slowly run over the name of your friend, “It’s alright, Yu. It’s only right and just.”

After Kento drives you home and by the time nightfall comes on that same day, you’re expected to be alone. Satoru had technically shouldered the paperwork and since you’re very much aware of his procrastinations, he’d most likely be on his phone while doing his papers and that would evidently just delay his job.

You’re covered in suds and there's soft sounds of classical music playing along to help calm you down with a copy of a newly bought book of Momotaro on your dried hand. You’re reading through the clean passages once again to see if you missed anything. Sadly, the book remained as is and just the same as the one you had memorized as a kid. You frowned and pressed your back firmly on the porcelain tub as you looked heavenward at the designer lights that decorated the ceiling.

Tchaikovsky's swan lake approaches its peak when there's a sudden surge of familiar energy approaching the other side of the door, “Y/N? You in there?” you tilt your head slightly, slowly sitting up when the door opens.

Your husband is standing there with a grin and a bouquet of lilies on his hand. His pupils seemingly turn large whilst he takes in your radiant glow under the light of the bathroom.

“Hi.” he’s breathless as always, eyes as blue and wide when he gazes at the way your curves peek out of the bubbles and the way the water drips down your bare flesh, “Got home earlier and I got you this.” he raises the beautiful lilies wrapped in white paper.

“Welcome home.” you lean in closer to the side as he places the bouquet on top of the counter top and bend down to your level to give you a brief peck on the temple then your cheek, “How's work?” you inquired.

“Done. pretty sore actually.”

“Wanna join me?”

Your husband only rubs the lobe of your ear then traces your lips and just shakes his head, “Let me look at you for a sec…” your husband seems mirthful when he watches the curvatures of your beautiful face. His gaze then trickles down to the book in your hand, a sudden amused smile appearing on his lips, “Didn’t peg you to be a fan of children’s books.” He holds out his palm open. The bright colors of the book cover were a stark contrast to the usual ones you’ve read to him on some nights. He wonders just what made you even pick it up.

You hand the book to him and slowly rest your head on top of your crossed arms at the edge of the bathtub, “Wanna read to me?”

“Not a big fan but sure, why not?”

Satoru didn't read Momotaro as a child. The stories they’d usually tell him were old tales of jujutsu sorcerers or oral traditions that his wet nurse had heard from her predecessors. He’s actually surprised that you were even interested in these books because jujutsu tales were far more exciting to hear as a kid, “Is this nostalgia kicking in or something?” he asks, raising the book on his hand.

“Sort of.” you mumbled, the memory of finding the book vandalized came into your head, “My grandma would let me read that a lot as a child.”

“Ah,” he figured, you probably had missed your grandmother. That's why you were reading this, “My wet nurse would usually tell me the same love story as a kid…” he added, taking a seat at the edge of the tub, playing with the strays of your hair.

Apparently when he was a baby up to his early childhood, his blood father would come to his room and tell that story every single night. The wet nurse had said it was a connection to him so she’d try to piece out the tale from memory. He didn’t exactly know how to tell it properly, after he had grown up, he refused to listen to it since it bore him to the bone.

She told the same story at least thrice a week whilst he was growing up, who wouldn’t get tired of it?

“Really?” your ears perk up, suddenly interested in what he had to say as he continues to comb his fingers through your hair lightly. Your husband had rarely talked about his childhood so you were very interested in what type of life he had led.

“Yeah, a weird story I’d tell ‘gumi back when I was babysitting him. I think he hated me for it. He said it was too sappy.” he chuckled, “All about this rich shaman falling for a poor woman from the rural areas yet he had a wife who was his cousin or something...”

It was an odd story told to a boy. If he had to admit it, he was expecting stories of monsters and curses from his father but then again, the old man had died before Satoru was able to formulate a proper sentence or a memory about him so he can’t really say what type of person he is. For all he knew, he could’ve been a hopeless romantic.

“That’s a heavy story to tell to a child.” You joked, watching as your husband strips bare, finally ready to get in the bath with you. The bathtub was technically big enough for the both of you.

He sits down on your front, your legs wrapped around his waist whilst he leans back on your bare chest, skin to skin.

It was in these vulnerable times that you’re reminded of an easygoing kind of love, uncomplicated by silly things in between. Satoru was a part of everything good in this world when he laid here with you.

“It was pretty repetitive that I usually fall asleep halfway through...” he huffs honestly, “Speaking of story, I got you something…” you feel him lowering himself to rest on your chest while you play with the ring that hangs around his neck.

“The flowers? They’re pretty by the way.”

He shakes his head, he continues to bask in the way your presence comforts him and how it’s enough to lift his tiredness, “A greenhouse.” His tone seems aloof and casual yet you could see that he was rather excited with the idea, “There's an expansion there that I got over the firewall, we could have it built there so you have something to place your flowers during the winter…” he feels you start to scrub his back, the soft scrubs of the loofah is enough to make him feel sleepy.

“A green house…it sounds beautiful…” you whispered, placing the loofah to the side, resting your head on his shoulder.

“You like it? you could have a little table there where we both can have snacks and all that, even have glass on the top so the sun can get in as well during the summer. I think the architect will send some designs next week and you can have a look at them...”

“It’s not my birthday yet, though.” you pointed out, wondering what’s the occasion on why he wanted to give you something as lavish and expensive as this.

“I know.” inhaling deeply, he takes in your scent, anchoring himself in this moment, “But winter is coming soon, I don’t want you getting all sad on me because your cute daisies have nowhere to go to.” he gives your jaw a lazy kiss as he settles back into the comforts of your arms, holding onto your wrists.

The only sound is the water being paddled away by your fingers and Tchaikovsky's piano.

Yet a question slowly pops into Satoru’s head but he’s hesitant to ask about it, “Hey Y/N?” he mutters, laying still on your hold.

You only hummed a reply.

Quietude only follows soon after as if he was evaluating if he should ask about it. You, on the other hand, are wondering what your husband is thinking so deeply about. You patiently wait for him as you play with the tips of his white hair.

“You never told me how you got those scars before…”

There’s another round of hushness settling between you two and Satoru’s waiting for a scolding or anything along the lines of that but instead, you continue to play with soft tufts of his white hair, “Training…” was all you could say, entirely unsure of which parts to divulged, “I wanted to be stronger.” you added, “I was hoping to be strong enough to run away…”

It wasn’t exactly a lie nor was it the truth, you were simply walking in between a thin line of it.

“Oh.” Satoru starts to feel something familiar, it's one he gets whenever Yu Haibara comes into the conversation. Despite the reassurance he got, he still can’t help but think about certain what if’s, “Right…”

You purse your lips, wondering how you can comfort him since he seemed to have gone stiff on your hold.

So you dip your head down to kiss him, your warm lips encompassing his. It’s one that shuts his mind off and keeps it blank for a brief period, “I was too weak though.” you whispered, pulling away, “And I have a husband who's the strongest,” your fingertips caressing his neck down to his necklace, “...and who loves me a lot so maybe that’s why I didn’t get any good at it.” he feels your palm rest on his chest where his heart lays.

“That’s…”

“Don’t worry,” you lean in to give him another kiss on his temple, “I was fifteen. This was long before I even met you and I thought I was getting married to an older man…”

Maybe there were moments wherein even Gojo Satoru needed a little reassurance and you wouldn’t mind giving it to him, if he ever had needed it, you, as well, wouldn’t hesitate to give him what he needed at that moment.

“Satoru,” you called out for him, playing with his wedding band, “The only time that I’ll let go is when you will…” he feels his body tense up when you say those words, “other than that, I’ll love you with all I can and all I have… remember that…” you whispered.

He could only shut his eyes tight, savoring the experience that was unwrapping in front of him. Your confession coming out like a beautiful symphony that’ll be played upon generations and generations.

You weren’t going to leave him.

“All I can, all I have...:” he whispers back, taking your fingers to wrap around his, “I’ll love you with all I can and all I have…” he repeats, kissing your hand, holding onto your words, “Not bad, I like the sound of that…”

You give his neck a brief peck then relax your chin on top of his shoulder, “Because it’s true.” you confessed, “And I don’t mind saying that to you until you get sick of it.”

There is no more but a sensation of a pinch between Satoru’s forehead when he realizes where he is. The days had been long and harrowing, coming in and out of his home like a ghost and barely seeing you. The death womb situation had been spiraling out of control and he knew it. He’s sent Yuuji and the others to investigate things regarding a bridge and some mysterious deaths entangled with it, one that he can’t be bothered with as he arrived in front of your home.

He wonders when he’d be able to actually stop doing his job these days, the enticing offer of an early retirement and then taking you away to a far off place like Morocco would be nice. You guys would be able to just live there and away from everything.

He knew that just getting Yuuji to settle in and remove his death sentence wouldn’t be enough.

He’d need to destroy the system to the core if he wanted you to be safe as well. Satoru is no god and there's no telling what can happen to him, if he were to disappear someday or die before you, you had need to be safe and left alone comfortably without people forcing you to do their bidding.

“What would happen to me then, Satoru?”

Oftentimes, he’d get back to that conversation you two had shared during the new years. Where you had truthfully revealed (sort of) the gravity of the situation you were in. It was probably at that moment that he had to do a double take of your standing and why you were so keen to be following around and putting your head down.

He’ll make sure that one day, you wouldn’t need to do that. One day, he didn’t need to come up to your defense because you yourself would be able to strike them down.

“You're early,” you greeted, you're wearing that pretty sundress again. It’s one that makes him lose external awareness of the environment around him as if you were the only person in this world.

There was also that delightful moment when he’d be able to put his infinity off now that he’s here.

“Evening Y/N” he walks up towards you, the smell of the beef gyudon and the stir-fry makes his stomach grumble. He may love sweets more but he’s always in for some home-style cooking if you were the one doing it.

“I was just about to separate your leftovers,” you lean in closer as he gives you cheek a peck, “ Are you done with work?”

He slowly shakes his head, “I have to be out again by seven tomorrow…”

“Oh,” you completely understood, nodding quickly, “At least you're home early tonight. How's the situation?”

Satoru helps you out in setting the table as the topic turns quite heavy for him, “Bad.” he shrugged, “It’s nothing I can’t handle...It’s just, too many things happening at once…”

Your husband had told you about it being the aftereffects of the revelation of Sukuna’s fingers and Itadori Yuuji eating them. The poor boy wasn’t exactly aware about it and it seemed like the older shaman wasn’t ever going to tell him.

He was tired, it’s probably because he was the one running around having to do his responsibility and making sure he didn’t screw it up. The only time he truly could get some rest is when he stepped into the solace of his home with you waiting for him behind the doors with open arms.

“You should take a break after, maybe you can get a day off or two like we did at Sendai…” you point out, placing some rice on his plate before placing the gyudon and stir fry side by side.

“I uh- used up all my vacation passes on that trip, honestly.”

You stop mid-action, the utensil turning heavy on your hand at the sudden revelation, “Why?” you placed it down, brows contorting together in confusion, “We weren’t...together then…” you sounded doubtful and troubled by it that Satoru has to clear his throat.

“I…” he doesn’t exactly know how to explain it. At that time you had reminded him very much of Suguru Geto and he had gotten bothered, at that time he had also just known about your situation. Another thing that made him mildly rattled. He knew you then and at the same time he didn’t and it was more than enough for him to keep looking your way, “You just...looked miserable.” he admitted, “And it didn’t feel right to just look away, honestly…”

Theirs a soft chuckle that escapes your lips, “You are too kind.” those words rang familiar to him, you had always called him that even before. It’s an adjective he’s not familiar with because if people were to describe Gojo Satoru they would come along the lines of, ‘Arrogant, the strongest, maybe cruel, batshit crazy even’ and kind was never on the list of it.

He skims his fingers down his jawline, trying to wonder what that even meant, “Why?” he suddenly asks you, intrigued by it.

You look up from your plate, tilting your head in lilted amusement as if he had said the most bizarre thing, “What do you mean why? You’ve got a heart of gold, Satoru.” you laughed, shaking your head in dismay, “Always so helpful and risking your neck for a lot of people.”

“But...that’s because I’m the strongest…” he obviously states, if he didn’t have this power, would he even do those things?

“Stupid,” you take a bite of your rice, cutting his racing thoughts short. You point the ends of the chopsticks towards him, “You could’ve left Yuuji and Yuta to die, killed Geto heartlessly, maybe even left Megumi with the Zen’in’s and even try to harm me because you had all the power to but you didn’t, you treated all of us better and well… You’re kinder than you take credit for…”

“Huh,” it’s a genuine compliment and he’s not entirely sure how to function after that, “I don’t...that’s nice?” he mutters, turning warm that you had pointed it out loud.

“I’m lucky.” you hummed, “I got to marry someone as kind as you.”

“You make me sound like I’m a saint.”

Yet you could only smile so wide at his offhanded joke, in many ways than one, he technically was more of a saint than you were. The kindness he had shared and that you had basked in this past year was more than you could ever expect.

Apathy aside from the beginning with cold eyes that refused to look at you for even longer than a minute, is now replaced by a safe presence with promises that he’ll take you somewhere far away.

Gojo Satoru is a man who is all shades of bright colors and beauty, the true kind one between the both of you. His actions covered what little fallbacks he had.

It’s five am that next day.

You had sat up, eyes shot open and you were panting hard. You don’t even remember anything that had happened, all you felt was the aching pain that seared through your head like someone had repeatedly stabbed you there and ripped out all your innards. The sound of cruel laughter, echoing, that they had won this fight and all you needed to do was give it up.

You could hear your husband shifting to the side, his alarm most likely about to ring soon because he had a job to do and curses to fling out windows.

“Y/N?” he tiredly mumbles. Unlike you, Satoru has slept well because he knows he can trust you next to him. Gone were the nights where he didn’t even sleep a wink or usually went on with three hours of a nap to just keep his infinity up. He feels safe, content, and alright when you are there.

“It’s too early.” you muttered, rubbing his forearm to get him to shut his eyes again, “Go back to sleep.” his sleepy expression slowly morphs to a more worried one as he watches you silently pad through the floors as quiet as a mouse.

Concern suddenly washes over him when your figure vanishes over the lighted bathroom. He rubs his eyes to adjust his vision, following behind you. You were in your usual nightie, hair on a tight bun as you start brushing your teeth. You don't bother to greet him as he does the same next to you. You were too entranced by the bloodbath that was going on in your head earlier.

“Y/N?” he trails behind you into your closet, “What happened?”

“Nothing.”

“We should really go to a professional-”

“Satoru.” you snapped, “Just leave it. I’m fine.”

“No you’re not.”

You turn to him, hands on your waist, eyes narrowed to slits as if you weren’t in the mood to argue this morning, “You have work in an hour, go get rea-” he stops you with an urgent kiss, neediness flooding through them. Your words come out as a muffled moan instead when his hand inches up your silk dress, tracing circles on your skin.

“I feel like I have to stop you there…” he pulls away, trailing kisses down your jaw to your neck as his hands disappear below your nightie, his lips sucking and marking up your clavicles, “Lets not fight, please? I barely see you and ah…” he stops his sentence short when he touches your bare pussy. Your husband slowly inches away, surprised at your bold attitude, “Why aren’t you wearing any underwear?” mouth parting slightly.

You start to feel feverish when you pull away, sheepish that he has caught you on the spot

“I-I...you rip them off too much…” you stumbled, watching him wear his ring on his finger, “Sator-” you let out a soft whimper when you watched him lick his fingers and slid it back in between your legs to caress you.

“Not bad but back to the topic…” He inches closer, nibbling on your ear, “Let’s not argue, alright? You don’t need to snap back at me...let's talk about it calmly like this alright?”

“Y-You’re so unfair...I can’t…” you push back to the dresser and take a hold of his strong arms, aching for him down there.

He pouts, “You’re the one snapping at me at 5 am when I just wanna help you…” he starts drawing small circles outside your wet hole, teasing your wet folds as you bury yourself down his shoulders, “I don’t like fighting with you now, Y/N especially when it’s your health that’s involved…”

“Satoru…” you complained, ignoring his words as you started rubbing yourself on his warm palm, trying to find some relief. He only chuckles underneath his breath, watching you struggle on his hold. You were so impatient when it came to this yet your complaints were too hard to deny. His spoiled little wife, always getting whatever she wanted.

“Alright...sorry, sorry…” he apologized, finally putting one finger in, “But just one check up, right? You don’t need to keep going back.” he curls the finger inside before pushing another finger in. A delicious shudder shot through you at his filthy actions.

“B-but…”

“Come on…”

“Y-You’re coercing me through this, you fucking idiot…” you watch him bend down, pressing you onto the dresser as he lets you go to thumb your nipple before taking it into his mouth through the fabric, your bud growing hard between his lips and perking up. He pushes a second finger in your wet hole, your wetness coating his long fingers and welcoming him so easily as he starts fingering you, the crude action parting your lips so slightly as your legs spread wider for easier access.

“Well, you seem to be enjoying it.” he tugs the flimsy strap down with his mouth, tearing it off easily. He latches his lips on your breast, swirling his tongue around it before giving it one long suck as you let out a strangled moan.

Every morning, this had become a routine and you’ve grown enamored at the way he made you feel. It wasn’t boring, bland, whatnot. Satoru always came down with a surprise as if he was taking his time to explore your body.

Today would be different as well before you could even cum around his fingers, he takes it out and lets you taint his sweats as he lifts you up to sit on top of the rough surface of the dresser, “Satoru, why-” you frowned, watching him kneel down between your legs, “Satoru, don’t do that…” you mumbled, ready to scold him because he shouldn’t be getting himself dirty.

“Why not, Lady Gojo?” Satoru could feel your skin turn hot when you heard that title, “Can’t this servant please her mistress?” he gives each leg a kiss, the sensation absolutely wrecking you on the inside with how slow he was going and how the air was slapping your slicked folds.

“Servant?” you spoke haltingly, head clearly in a daze. You seemed lost as he held onto the apex of your thighs to give each side a kiss, running his palms up and down before giving it a squeeze.

Cerulean blue eyes look at you from below and between your legs. Everyone would be a fool to know that a clan head shouldn’t be kneeling in front of his wife nor calling himself those words but there he was, breaking those rules. It only made you more damp down there. You were embarrassingly consumed by desire for your husband and he wasn’t even doing anything yet.

“Mhm…” he hummed, not even removing his gaze as he inches in your wetness, breathing in your sweet scent before giving it a teasing kiss. Electricity runs down your body as you suddenly hold onto his hair, eyes turning wide as saucers.

“Satoru….” your breathing turns ragged when his warm muscle licks a small stripe on your pussy lips.

“Am I servicing you well, Lady Gojo?” he hums as you shut your eyes tight in gratification, his fingers returning down there to part your wet folds and give it another lick, the sweet tangy taste settling into his palette, his erection throbbing as he watches you lose yourself slowly in his tongue.

He’s loving the view down here, he should definitely do this more often.

“Ye-yes…” you tried to respond, blood throbbed through your veins with a scarlet web of desire for the man pleasuring you. His tongue starts licking your dripping cunt, not even removing his gaze from you since he wanted to enjoy the show he was in for.

“Sa-Satoru…” your words dying in your mouth when he starts lapping faster, poking his tongue in your tight hole as he spreads you wider. His other hand worked around your clit, teasing, massaging it before finally giving the hard nub a pinch, something you seemed to enjoy since you started to pulsate around him and fist his hair between your fingertips. Curses escapes your beautiful lips as he keeps fucking his tongue into your damp folds and burying himself in there like a starved man.

You start to rub yourself into him harder, not wanting him to stop. With every whisper, every moan that escaped your lips, you made yourself his.

“I’m...I’m...somethings coming-” before you could even cum undone, he once again, removes himself from you, lips glistened from your wetness as he sucks on your thighs, saliva mixed with your fluids littering your skin.

You feel your eyes turn hot as if tears were about to pool from the feeling between your legs that won’t ever go away, “How would you like me to fuck you today, Lady Gojo?” His voice sounds teasing, tantalizing even and it only makes you want him even more, he tugs his sweats down, slowly pumping his cock on his hand. He lifts your thigh, gently lugging you forward, the sensation of the wood beneath you going slippery as your wetness coated it. You can feel his girth press on your folds.

“Any, just-just want you in me…” wrapping yourself around his waist as he holds your ass. You’re so wet and ready, begging for him.

“As you wish,” he pushed himself into your heated core, starting at a slow languid pace. His long and fat cock rubbing into your slicked and warm walls, “Wanna go faster, Lady Gojo?” he feels you tighten around his cock when he calls you that and it only makes his grin turn wider as his balls slap your skin at the sudden swiftness, “Or harder?” he pulled out almost all the way, then plunged in deeper.

“Oh fuck…” You mewled, throwing your head back. Your eyes almost roll back when his tip kisses you deep inside, your toes curl to the edge, convulsive waves gripping you.

Satoru only covers your mouth with his, swallowing every whimper, “You like that, my lady?” he pulls away, a trail of saliva connecting you two. His rough hand strokes your rib, then moves up to your breast, molding it and shaping it before stroking your nipple between his thumb while he starts to use his tongue on the other to tease it. He continues to keep his pace nimble as he rams his cock deep into you. His title for you etched your skin. You start to suck onto his neck, marking his thin skin, nails scratching his back and forming dark red lines on his pale canvas.

“God, my lady...your husband should fuck you better, you’re still so tight…” he laughs, stretching you out and continuing to fuck you dumb as your drool starts to trail down his warm flesh, “But this servant will do his best, hm? Because I’m yours and I serve you only...” the sound of sweat-slick skin slapping filled the room, noises of pure animal pleasure.

“Y-yes… Satoru....” desire thick on your tongue as you kept begging for him, his tip plunging into you that you could almost feel it up to your stomach.

As you start to unravel underneath him, he pulls out and switches your positions. You're now standing up, gasping and back pressed onto him whilst the rims of your eyes turn red, hungry for any sort of release.

You wanted to cum but your husband wasn’t letting you.

“Sorry, my lady...This servant just wants you to make a mess for him to clean…” he chuckles, without any warning, rough and hard strokes come back into your hole as he holds your waist to keep you from falling. You turn to face him, kissing open-mouthed and panting as your bodies work together in a rhythm.

“I wanna, wanna cum…” you almost begged, feeling his hands grip your pelvis as he’s balls deep within you, the rough motion sending you over and tightening around him, you want to make a mess for him to clean, “Wanna cum…”

“No ones stopping ya…You just wanna let me keep pounding in you while that happens right?” he filthily whispered, sucking on your bare shoulder blades as you start to clench your teeth when you thrust your breasts more tightly on his hands, “Come on, Lady Gojo...cum for me…” your body crippled with pleasure, intense and insane as you moaned his name and start cumming on his cock, gripping the dresser tightly.

Satoru draws his lower lip between his teeth, controlling his own orgasm as he pulls out of your tight hole, fisting his cock to release his load on your back. His warm seed tainting your soft skin. Your knees are weak as you try to stand up, his cum, running down your skin, “I’m a mess…” you muttered, pulling away as if you were burned.

The thin sheen of sweat on your face makes the small strands of your hair cling onto your skin, his white fluid running down your bare flesh. The afterglow made his cock twitch hard.

Your lips are moist, breasts are sore from all the sucking and gripping, and your cum running down your legs.

Satoru takes in a deep, shaky breath. God, would he ever get tired of pinning for you? He fears becoming much of an addict in your eyes. The way you had called out for him? Cried for him as you wanted more? He should try to control himself.

Your half-lidded eyes turn to him, “You destroyed another nightie.”

“Ah…” he snaps back to reality, “You should shower-” realizing where this was going. Another light scolding about how he shouldn’t be destroying your clothes but you tug him closer, your abused cunt rubbing on him. Might as well try to tease him for doing that, as well.

“You said you’d clean me up...” you give his nose a kiss, rubbing his cheek, “Right,Jūsha?” the title comes out of your lips in a soft whisper that he feels his cock ache again.

He takes it back, maybe he could keep being addicted to you and how quick witted you were.

For Itadori Yuuji, he feels as if his skull had been cracked open. That very same morning he wakes up with a convulsing headache that he knows he won’t be able to get rid with a tylenol. The pinkette was stupid enough to trust that Sukuna wouldn’t pull a little cheat, the motherfucker had grown a mouth on his palm while he took the finger off Fushiguro’s hand after the fight.

Now he’s gobbled another finger accidentally.

Being a host wasn’t easy, especially for a thousand year old vengeful spirit who seemed to have developed a weird fixation on his sensei’s wife. He’s entirely unsure still of how to go about that topic or who he should consult first. Would he go to you? Or Gojo-sensei?

“Go to the bitch first.” Sukuna had told him once, “If you tell that six-eyes, she’ll end up as good as dead, you wouldn’t want to be responsible for that, would you?”

The boy feels over the edge at the curses words, never in his life had he seen Ryoumen Sukuna talk about someone like that--- aside from Fushiguro, of course. Another weird fixation that this curse had.

The feeling to talk to you only went even stronger as he ingested another finger accidentally. Sukuna had said that if he didn’t get what he wanted, he’d eat another finger without his consent and that only made Yuuji want to throttle the curse down.

He wanted to keep his distance with you.

Sukuna be damned, he could never trust the curse.

The caution though, remains to linger on his head. Why was it that if he told Gojo-sensei about Sukuna and you, you’d end up dying? Something didn’t add up. He’s still doubtful to approach you and he wants to tell Megumi about it but something -- a gut feeling --- tells him not to.

Like this should remain a secret between the three of you or something.

So he ponders and tries to think, by three pm, he’s right in front of your home with the cursed spirit silent underneath him still. Ryoumen Sukuna was never silent, he always had side comments that Itadori Yuuji would ignore most of the time but whenever you came into the picture especially after what had happened that night with your poor maid, he’d always be silenced.

Was it fear?

It sounded stupid if it was.

You were as harmless as a flower in the garden.

He rings your doorbell, hoping for the best and anticipating a kind response for you. He truly doesn’t want to scare you off at all. The sound of the doorbell rings through his ears, his fingers tingling as soon as he removes it from the button. Would it be weird if you were alone? What if Sukuna would suddenly pop out on his cheek and start saying weird things?

“Yuuji?” your voice is laced with nothing but worry as soon as you open the gates of your home to him.

“Y/N...Y/N-san!” he’s jittery, it’s obvious especially with the way he starts scratching his lower cheek.

Over the course of time, you had mildly gotten over your fear of Itadori Yuuji but the nagging feeling of apprehension continues to bother you that you still tried to keep your distance. Yuuji, as well, must’ve sensed it and kept a few feet away from you, even not staying inside a room with just the both of you in it.

Something had felt different this time though.

“Satoru isn’t here, Yuuji…” you maintain a calm disposition, trying not to look affected, “He’s going in and out, pretty busy these days…”

“Oh, I-I know that Y/N-san...I’m, I’m actually here for you…”

“Oh. Why didn’t you bring Megumi then?” you’re stalling, you don’t want Yuuji into your home because he didn’t look very happy as well to be here unlike before. It could only mean one thing.

“It’s...It’s private.”

You pressed your lips to a thin line, pity slowly washing over you when you realize just how stuck the boy was in as well. Who knows what that horrible curse said within his body, add the fact that he has probably been holding this in for months by the looks of it.

“Come on, “ you step to the side, “Let’s have some hot chocolate, alright? I just finished baking a roll cake and I think you’d like it…”

You remain behind Yuuji, not wanting to be too close or too near him but also not wanting to cause any suspicion that you were aware of your connection with the demon that vested in his body.

After giving him a small slice and a cup of hot cocoa with some mallows, he stares at the food for a moment, trying to piece out proper sentences in his head.

“Y/N-san,” he finally breaths out, not knowing if he should look you in the eye or continue to look at his hands, “I...this is going to sound weird…”

You grow still, trying to observe him and listen to his words.

“But…” he clears his throat, “Sukuna...he accidentally ate another finger on our recent mission under the bridge and well, this-- this is going to sound weird, like i said, but he’s been restless…”

“Then why would you come to me Yuuji?” you look up, trying to remain firm and calm as you take one sip of the sweet beverage, “You should ask advice to Satoru for this, he’s more well-equipped…”

“He says...He says he knows you…”

You halt in your movement, ignoring the burning sensation at the back of your throat, “Does he?” you look up, carefully gazing at the boy.

“It’s it’s impossible right?” he laughs nervously, “I’m- well he might just be batshit- oh sorry for the language, he’s just crazy…”

At that moment, you’re placed in the middle of conflicting choices. Truly unaware by how you were going to go about this. Sukuna might give you the key to your current demise but he was also someone you needed to be careful from for he could so easily give you a good fight despite Yuuji only consuming a couple of fingers.

“...That’s quite the information though Yuuji…” The boy just shoves the whole slice on his mouth, getting ready to show himself out because he believes he has outstayed his welcome in your home. He’d rather not see you for awhile, he might’ve scared you, “Can I talk to him then?”

He looks up from the empty plate, mouth falling open as he does a double take.

“What?”

“For your peace of mind, I’ll talk to him.”

“Y/N-san, he’s a monster! Once he’s out-” he starts to stutter out hundreds of words all at once, a word vomit or so to speak but you only clasp your hands together and lean forward.

“He’s not going to hurt me.”

“I...I’ll…”

“Yuuji…” your mellifluous tone is enough to make him stop his words and look directly towards your e/c ones, “I’ll be fine...I know you’ll come out when I need help…”

“But…” Yuuji searches for hesitancy, maybe even fear but he detects none of it, there’s only a sense of urgency in your tone as if you wanted to actually meet the curse and stare at him eye to eye, “I’ll...I’ll be back in a moment…Y/N-san…” it sounded as if Yuuji was more fearful than you were.

Yet your posture remains straight and your gaze doesn't falter for a second.

Right in front of you, the marks start to form on his skin, his hair standing up to an end, and his nails grew sharper, enough to draw blood. The room around you feels dark and cold, the overwhelming presence of the thousand year old demon was enough to make you hold your breath so slightly.

When Ryomen Sukuna’s eyes finally shot open, gone were the innocent crimsons but instead replaced by murderous ones.

At that moment you had your answer.

“You fucking roach,” his hands ball into a tight fist, blood thirsting and pulsating through his veins as if he had seen and met his match in this hell of earth, “I ripped your fucking brains out and fed its innards to the animals at that cave, what the fuck are you still doing here, Minazuki?”

He is an enemy.

#jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #Jujutsu Kaisen #📝📝.minazuki mini series #hostclub.adulting #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen gojo #gojo satoru smut #gojo smut

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quirklessidiot · 3 years

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title : minazuki [18:finale] pairing : gojo satoru x f!y/n Genre: angst, arranged-marriage au, mystery/thriller, mature, enemies-to-lovers-ish, and very slow burn (canon compliant-ish for ch-0 to the anime)

Summary: In which Y/N L/N is placed under a union she has no choice but to partake for the sake of her survival.

Warnings: heavy mind manipulation, panic attack, anxiety (mentions of heavy insecurities), mild sexual themes, mentions of death, language, SHIBUYA ARC SPOILERS (pinch) notes: more personal notes at the bottom bottom bcos heheand yes thats satoru's hands series masterlist || taglist closed ||

Gojo Satoru is aware he’s not dying.

Especially as he’s falling to this plain abyss of nothingness. It’s rather odd how these weeks have been turning over; his wife leaving him without another word, how his best friend turned out to be alive but momentarily, he comes to the instantaneous realization that it wasn’t him. He feels his life turning out to be some tragic play.

He’s getting tired of how unfair everything was around him.

Didn’t life want to give him a breather?

“How are you even sure Y/N L/N is still alive?” “Satoru, at some point, if no one is coming up on the radar, that would mean she’s as good as gone.” “It’s time to give up,-”

He shuts his eyes tight to the point where he could feel every inch of his body. The free flow of it and how he only welcomes defeat since that’s the only choice he has as of the moment. His descent turns rapid, the air pressure surrounding him seemingly gone to the point where he feels like he’s being smothered by something. He’s expecting this is how it’ll be until he finds a way out or better yet, up till someone saves him.

Thousands of voices, questions, yells of people he couldn’t distinguish anymore and suddenly, it’s a long round of silence.

He braces himself for an impact.

He expects something hard, enough to break his head or something along the lines of that yet it’s the exact opposite; it’s soft, plush, and pleasant to the touch even.

“Satoru-san?” traces of unfamiliar warmth could be felt on his bare skin along with that repugnant smell of expensive perfume that he’s never got a whiff off. His tunneled vision blurry like he had just woken up from a deep slumber. Unlike the usual response, his eyes do not blench themselves shut because of the pain. it’s different. Something new.

He turns to his side, wondering who was next to him, only for him to immediately draw back because she was exposed with only a blanket to cover her. His eyes turn as wide as saucers when he lugs himself out of bed.Like her, he was as bare as the day he was born. With a throbbing head and no recollection of what had happened the night before, his body starts trembling, what did he do? No, he wouldn’t do that to you. He wasn’t prancing around like a brazen idiot.

This wasn’t right.

“Who are you?” he grasps one side of his head, trying to regain control of his senses. What type of sick joke were they trying to pull on him? Did they not have any respect? Why can’t he see this brunette’s cursed energy? Everyone has one. What happened to his limitless? Why can’t he feel anything?

Questions start to pile up in his head as he tries to scratch his neck to grasp for comfort yet the cold accessory that he considered as valuable as his own life is gone as if it didn’t exist in the first place, “Who the fuck are you? What did you do with my wedding ring?” he marches up to her yet like a rabbit, she only shakes under his gaze. His nostrils flared, skin turning flushed from all the anger.

“Satoru-san, I’m Aina-” she tries to sit up, mirroring his expression and holding out her hand to touch his arm yet Gojo Satoru is not in a joking mood right now. Who did this woman think she is? Approaching him like this?

“The only woman who I allow to touch me is my wife…” He spat, his stony blue eyes are filled only with frigid iciness when he swats her hand away. He snatches up her clothes and throws them in front of her before taking his polo from the ground. His hands are shaking when he tries to button up his shirt, clearly frazzled by what had just happened, “And you aren’t her…” he adds, “Get out…” as if she was clearly aware of his sobriety, she starts tumbling out words of apologies, hurriedly gathering her clothes and putting them on along with muttering something about passing her letter of resignation.

Satoru thinks he’s in a hotel room, one wherein he’s not sure how he’d end up in the first place. His body feels rough, lethargic like he was recovering from a fever. There's a sudden hit of nausea, as well. Where was he even the night before? Had he drank and was currently suffering from a hangover? He’s never been one to immerse himself in alcohol even while you had gone missing. All he recalls was coming into the train station by Shibuya and nothing else. In fact, everything seemed blurry.

Yet when he clicks open the door, ready to leave and go back to your shared home, he stops short and frozen at the spot when he realizes he’s at a bachelor pad. Eyes warily darted on the photo frames, one that wasn’t even of the both of you but of him and his deceased parents and some abroad.

Even that big photo frame you two had during your wedding last year wasn’t there.

“What…” he staggers towards the frame, trying to keep his balance. It seemed to have been recent because of how old he had looked which wasn’t even possible because his mother had died right after he was born and his father had passed before he could even formulate a proper memory of the old man. He gulps down a big chunk of saliva as he places the frame down carefully, he turns to the few awards, unfamiliar words like ‘Fortune World's Most Admired Companies’ and ‘Think Global’ written on top of it.

He wasn’t at a hotel.

This is his home.

No, where were your things? His wedding ring? He runs back to the dull bedroom. No lavenders and vanillas could be smelled, your vanity table filled with the precious things he immediately replaced is gone, the flowers and so are the books that you seem to like are not there anymore, as well. There is not even a single trace of you as he opens his closet, stuffy suits and monotonous grey colors are the only thing in there. The colorful dresses and beautiful kimonos that he had replaced had no space here.

He doesn’t want to believe what he sees.

He flings his hand upwards, trying to flick his finger in order to check his technique but nothing comes out. So that was why his eyes hadn’t hurt anymore. He lets out a raspy and shaky breath, getting ahold of his wrist to stop his hand from trembling, “Ha…” his lips part to let out a strong expiration. He’s trying to find sense in what was going on around him as he starts cupping his eyes, making sure they were still there.

He did not have much memory of what had been going on, they were all so blurry. He also had no cursed technique. In other words, he’s useless. His gaze zeros on the large window that overlooked the large skyscrapers. Lightly, he pads through the window, “Where am I?” he mumbled to himself, placing his hand on top of the cool glass. His senses are still working, dreams aren’t usually this vivid and graphic.

Was this some type of alternate reality? He’s not aware of curses doing anything this strong especially to a special grade like him. Cancelling out a part of his recent memories along with his cursed technique, even taking him here. What was their plan? What was with the props?

The sound of the door opening and closing throws him off guard and almost makes him jump on the spot, he turns to the door, expecting to curse out that stranger awhile ago. Instead, there stands Ieiri Shoko. Tired brown eyes narrowed down on her friend and Satoru could only let out a strong exhale of relief, “Ieiri? You’re here too? Thank god, I thought I was the only one. Where are we? In a curse?” he inquired.

The brunette’s expression turns unreadable, then she lets out a frown as if he had said something mind-boggling, “Satoru?” she approaches him, “Are you alright? Have you been drinking?”

“What?” he parts his lips, clearly alarmed by her query, “What do you mean drinking? You know I can’t drink!” he trails a few steps back, holding a finger out, “Wait,” he places his hands over his mouth before pointing it towards her, “What joke are you all playing? Where’s Y/N’s things?” he continues.

“Y/N?” she repeats your name, hand on her hip. Only confusion was painted on her face, “Satoru, who is Y/N?” it’s almost like he wants to rip his hair out in sheer frustration, how did people not know his wife? The very same ones who rooted for the relationship were now pretending that they didn’t know you just because you had gone missing. He lets out a scornful laugh, clearly not finding this funny anymore.

“Y/N, My wife… I married her on June last year and I've been engaged to her since I barely knew how to talk…” he starts to list, “My wife, My Y/N, Ieiri…” he repeats your name like a ballad that’s been ingrained in his memory, not wanting to forget you even if the remembrance of you only evoked a painful anecdote. He’s almost desperate, disheartened even because not only did he not have his cursed technique and empty patches in his memory, he’s stuck in a place where no one even knew you.

He turns around, not wanting to see nor hear the astray and disoriented retort of his friend because she looked like she wasn’t even joking around, “Forget it,” he roughly runs his fingers through the tufts of his messy hair, this must be a bad dream. The lack of sleep and overwork was finally getting to him, he might need to chat up Yaga regarding this. His mind must’ve been breaking down from it all, “This might just be a bad dream...” he cursed yet Shoko Ieiri still has her perceptible gaze on her best friend, “I’ll go back to sleep-”

“What do you mean sleep? You have a meeting at nine with the mergers of America. Your father and mother wants to see you since you’ve been avoiding him apparen-”

“My otosan and okaasan is dead, Ieiri.” he turns to her yet she’s only appalled, mouth forming to a large ‘o’ at his comeback.

“Don’t say that to your parents, Satoru!”

“What are you even saying? You haven’t met then since they died before I was two!” he exclaims, throwing his hands up in the air, clearly vexed by such a response. He didn’t exactly have any grudges towards them, he simply knew nothing of them to produce and draw out a proper thought.

Her eyes turn as wide as saucers as she grabs his wrist, “That’s it, we’re going to the doctor. I’m calling your parents after this. You must’ve drank too much! Where’s Aina?”

“Who the fuck is Aina?” he feels the rough tug of his wrist towards the door, “And I’m fine, Ieiri! Let go of me!” he has to go back to sleep, maybe if he wakes up, he’ll be on your shared bed. Albeit, it’ll be empty, at the very least, he’ll have whatever pictures and things you used yet Ieiri simply ignores him and continues to yank him out there. He ends up in a Benz, arms crossed and strapped on the passenger's seat with the brunette behind the wheel.

“God, you’ve been drinking too much... Do you have an addiction-”

“I told you,” he snaps, “I don’t drink.”

How many times did he needed to say that? He feels his head aching once again, memories of what seemed to be a night before returns to him. Hazy lights flickering, the sounds of loud booms he’s not sure of what, and people in Halloween costumes.

“Right,” she stops the car at a red light and turns to him, “And I’m the CEO of Gojo Industries,” she rolls her eyes, “And who the fuck is Y/N? Wife? How come you never told me and Suguru you got married?” he immediately freezes up at the mention of his deceased friend’s name. It would make sense that the younger man was still alive in whatever place this was. If Ieiri wasn’t kidding, his parents might actually still be there but he’s not sure how to even react around them.

So he turns to the window, instead. He looks at the tall buildings that pass by him. Tokyo still looked like Tokyo and everything seemed to be in its place except he couldn’t see curses loitering around anymore and his eyes hadn’t hurt without his eye accessories.

“I...I don’t know…” he only mumbles. Everything is starting to get distorted and he can only fill his head throb now like someone had pummeled him with a ton of bricks, “I just...we got married because it was arranged…” he adds.

“Sounds like something you’d hate.” Ieiri points out, pressing the gas pedal when the lights turn green, “You must’ve been dreaming, Satoru. As your best friend, I assure you, you would’ve told us if you were married and I highly doubt you’d approve of an arranged marriage, as well.” No, Satoru refuses to accept that you weren’t married to him. He believes whatever is going on around him right now is a nightmare, though. A well-crafted and tangible terror.

He’ll be fine after this, he just needs some sleep and he’ll wake up in your home again.

“Sure.” he shuts his eyes, god let this bad dream be over yet despite his well-wishes, the rough slap of Ieiri Shoko only arouses him and he’s not back home but in front of a private hospital instead.

“Come on, we’ll get you checked then I’ll tell your dad to give you a day off…” She shakes her head, Satoru merely trails behind her. Clearly annoyed that he’s being subjected to this, exactly how long was this dream going to be?

The smell of sterilized alcohol fills his nostrils as soon as he walks in, sights of people in white lab coats and patients being pushed towards the exit and walking towards the ER for admission could be seen.

Like a child, the tall white-haired individual simply stands behind his friend like a sore thumb, lips pressed together with a look of exasperation as he ignores the looks of people passing by him, waiting for her to finally get this over with. There’s a raven-haired individual standing there, typing up his data. In retrospect, the nurse seemed like someone he’s seen through passing but he can’t exactly pinpoint where he’s seen her, though.

“Are there any more patients needed to be admitted?” a rather delightful and inviting voice inquires, the man’s blue eyes shot to the side. He’d know that voice anywhere. Like a broken record, he had always played that in his head after you left. It was something that gave him some easement and now here you are, standing a few feet away from him. You’re perched there with a smile that reaches your eyes coupled by a twinkle of mischief behind them, a more or less different expectancy than the usual penetrative gaze you used to have. Those accustomed dresses and yukatas you wore are now interchanged by a pair of comfortable jeans and a plain button-up with a matching white long coat.

It’s so unfamiliar yet at the same time, it suited you so much.

His mouth parts slightly, expression suddenly softening like clouds on the skies, and for a second, he’s tempted to hold out his hand; to hold you, hug you, ask where you’ve been and why you left him when he thought everything was alright between you yet he stops his ministrations when you turn to him.

Your eyebrows suddenly squished together as if you were trying to discern him for a brief moment, double-taking as if you were seeing someone that shouldn’t be seen, “Gojo-san?” His name finally escapes your pretty lips like a symphony being sung, “Is that you?”

The world is silent around him, like always he only sees you.

“Y/N.” ultimately he lost it. He takes a few long strides towards you, suddenly ignoring the fact that he was someplace unknown. Like a missing piece at long last found to complete his puzzle and the sun finally shining down upon him after months of dreary rain, Satoru feels like he can breathe easier when he throws his arms around you.

His eyes are shut tight incorporating breaths of relief, “You’re...You’re here...and you, you know me…” He was so scared, so petrified with the thought you’d only see him as a stranger. He wouldn’t be able to handle that response after what he has been through this past weeks.

“Oh my,” he hears you chuckle. You blink one to too many times whilst ungainly returning the gesture with one arm followed by some small awkward pats on his back, “Of course I still know you, Gojo-san...You’re always on the news with your achievements...” you pull away too quickly. Nevertheless, you prolong eye contact with his ocean blues, sparkles of life adoring your face, “I didn’t know you were a hugger.” you pointed out, maintaining that friendly and amiable smile.

“I-uh…” he recoils lightly at your riposte, feeling small. He’s uncertain about what to say to that because what did that even entailed? Thankfully, Ieiri makes her presence known at that very second. The brunette finding it bizarre since she’s never seen him react this way so openly towards someone.

“Satoru!” His friend chimes in, cutting the moment short. She rests her hands on his shoulders and saving him from any unprecedented and unsavory moment that was about to unfold, “I didn’t know you were acquainted with a doctor here! I’m Ieiri Shoko, we’ve been friends since college at business school,” she gestures to the tall man then holds out her hand, “I don’t think we’ve met, doctor…” she paused, waiting for you to say your name.

“Y/N…” you bow down out of respect before taking her hand and giving it a firm shake. He could feel Ieiri drilling holes on his sides when you introduce yourself, uncertain if it was the same one he had been dawdling about earlier this morning yet he only has his eyes on you, “I’m an old family friend of the Gojo’s…” you return your attentive (e/c)’s to Satoru. His heart rate continues to thrum loudly to the beat of the loud drums when he realizes you were looking back at him, “Who are you guys visiting?”

“No one but actually, Y/N...Since you know him, do you mind giving him a little check-up?” she bends down, lowering her voice, “I think he’s drank way too much...He’s been acting strange since this morning.” she informs you of his prognosis, pointing a thumb towards his direction.

The tall man continues to ignore his friend’s remarks. He hasn’t seen you in only a month but it felt like a dreadful eternity for him. This very mirage in front of him No, it didn’t seem right to call you that. When he had hugged you just a while ago, it stirred up yearning and familiar fondness. It felt like you through and through.

“That’s fine, I’m sure I can do anything for an old family friend...” you nod, completely understanding her remark as you try to garner the attention of the girl at the front desk, “Hana, dear, I’ll take Gojo-san for my last patient this morning. I’ll be out for lunch, as usual!” Satoru turns to the front desk once again, as if seeing a ghost, his face turning ashen and grey. The very same one who passed not so long ago is right in front of him, actually alive and breathing, “Gojo-san?” you call out his name again, snapping him out of his trance, “Come on…” with the chart in hand, you usher him to follow you and just like old times, there he is, following you from behind.

He watches the way the threads of your hair fall from your haphazardly done ponytail, the nape and curve of your neck, down to your slow pace that seems to be exactly as benign as before.

So many things he wants to do, to ask, but most of all, all he wants to do is get a good look of you; grab your hand, interlock his fingers with yours then prop it up his lips to give your knuckles some kisses while you give him that bewitching smile and tug him closer for a enamored hug, instead.

“I haven’t seen you in a while.” You break the silence first, sliding one of the curtains open to reveal a hospital bed. Your voice remains convivial yet at the same time, he notices the distance to it.

“Yeah, you too...” too long.

He eyes your every move as he takes a seat on the bed, observing every curvature of your physical attributes like a painting in a museum that couldn't be touched. He notices the way the small strand of your hair falls down to frame your face, his fingertips are burning to tuck them behind your ear yet he only flexes them tightly to hold himself back, resting them on top of his thighs.

No, something wasn’t right around here. He’s aware by the way you countered his hug. We’re you perhaps exes? Like that time, had you leave him? Or was it him? Were you simply just two parallel lines that could never meet? Nothing but individuals who'd only pass by each other?

You look up from his chart, tapping the end of the pen on your lip, “I think ten years? Or was it eleven? or maybe more?” you call to mind the last memory you have of him but he remains lost, only wanting to hear you babble on forever.

He misses this.

He misses you.

“I...Sorry, was the hug too…” he tries to apologize but you suddenly raise your hand, signaling it was fine as you start laughing lightly.

Beautiful.

“No, no...It’s alright, Gojo-san…” you acknowledged whilst pulling the rolling stool to be able to sit in front of him, “It’s just, we’ve never really talked despite being engaged with each other since we were kids, you know? I thought you actually forgot about me. It was such a long time ago...”

“We were engaged?” he repeats. His heart’s tightening and all the color promptly bleaches from his cheeks, realizing the connection you had shared, “I - and we broke it off?” Those were the only words he could pick up.

He has to remind himself that this is some cruel dream yet when he feels your soft and gentle touch laying on top of his forehead and queries if he was alright because of the apparent and sudden ‘memory loss’, he thinks otherwise. Of course, a young Satoru wanted to leave you but right now, he wanted to do anything else but that.

“Gosh, you aren’t burning up but here you are talking as if you forgot about everything. Is it alright if we start the check-up-” he holds your wrist tenderly, out of habit.

“I, sorry Y/N…” he expressed, wearily letting go when you give him a look, “I just... we aren’t on bad terms, right?”

“Why would we be?” you quipped, tipping your head to the side, taking the thermometer and trying to place it between his lips but he lightly shakes your hand away. He doesn’t need a check-up. He needs to talk to you, “We’re pretty good acquaintances, I believe. We both didn’t want it, you know what happened, Gojo-san-”

“Satoru.” he corrects you, you called him Satoru. You didn’t used stupid formalities on him, he doesn’t even want to hear you say it, “Just- just call me Satoru…” his resolve is gradually breaking to small pieces as memories of someone else invades his thoughts. No, this wasn’t real. Why can’t his head shut up? Why is he being given memorial recollections of a man he clearly wasn’t?

This isn’t him.

He married you, he loves you, and although your story is in line with his past, he can’t imagine himself with anyone else.

“Well, Satoru…” his name rolls off your tongue like a stranger’s and he could finally feel the pain slowly sweeping inside of him, “Like I said, we weren’t interested in each other. that’s that. Nothing too deep. were not one for theatrics, as well. Unlike many in high society, our story...” you paused, unsure of how to describe it as you grit your teeth together awkwardly and roughly gestured with your hand, “....isn't really one to gossip about since we didn't exactly have any of that to begin with...” you casually told him as if it was something you told a dozen times, “You know the whole jist, we may not have seen each other a lot even back then but you were there when they broke it off during dinner time after my grandparents died when I was sixteen, I think... or was it lunch?” You look back, uncertain and uncaring about what had happened like it was simply just a minor event that had went and passed on in your life, “Plus arranged marriages are so 1891, right? who even does that sort of crap?” you lightheartedly joke.

He feels his head only pang loudly as more memories seep in when you recount them for him and for him, they’re heart-rendering and agonizing because that’s not how it went.

“Yeah.” he tries to force out a laugh, pretending he was fine as he looks down on his tight fist, “Very 1891…”

You become less animated, realizing how aloof and held back he became. He’s a rather eccentric individual now that you look at it, suddenly coming in and giving you a hug after such a long time. You and Gojo Satoru were not exactly in that stage, you never even imagine him to be that sort of person as well. Sure, you were acquainted with one another but that’s all you both ever had been.

He wasn’t exactly an individual you were interested in getting to know and it was reciprocated. So, in the end, like adults, you both didn’t bother to push through.

Yet the man in front of you seemed so deposited when you broke the news to him. It was like a whirl of anomalous events had crashed upon him this morning, knocking him out.

It must’ve been a bad day for him.

“I’m guessing that you really aren’t feeling very good today.” you suddenly turned serious, “Maybe we should stop talking and continue-”

“No, I’m fine. Please. I just…” he suddenly shoots his head up, assuring you that he’s fine. Maybe this is when he can start anew? Dream, reality, or not, this is still you. He’d be glad to put in the effort no matter where he is yet when he catches the silver band that hangs on your neck, he stops himself short. It’s so loud and it glistens under the lights like a bright star under a pitch-black night that he wonders why he never had seen it awhile ago, “I’m fine, Y/N.” he manages to choke out.

There's worry but he knows it’s from a doctor's perspective, “Has anyone ever told you how bad you are at lying?” you blatantly point out, taking the stethoscope to start the checking him up, instead.

He feels his breathing hitch, the very world around him stops when he hears that amicable phrase, “Just one.” you, “Just one person.” he breaths, his mind dwelling on those moments. You were married to someone else in whatever messed up or fucked up dream or specter this was.

But was it really an illusion? Or simply a reality he couldn’t accept?

It made perfect sense.

If you had the proper life like this.

Would you even still be with him?

At the end of the day, if you went according to proper circumstances; you did not start off as lovers, you were not even close to being friends, you were simply two strangers brought upon a piece of paper and a pile of money.

That, itself, was never a proper way to marry someone especially if feelings were starting to be involved. It was unorthodox and clearly off-putting because you deserve anything but that sort of life. He knows that. He just didn’t want to accept it because that’s the way he was able to meet and fall for you.

It could be also why you had left him so suddenly. Did you realize that as well?

The cold sensation of the stethoscope is the only thing he can feel in his back and the scent of the vanilla and lavenders that he’s grown so fond of, “I bet that person must be someone else…” you compliment as he takes slow breaths for you.

“Yeah, she is...” his eyes don’t stop looking at the plain wedding band, he wants to think he’s wrong but it glares at him like a reminder that this would probably be your true happy ending if alternate realities did exist. No abusive system to hold you back, no inhumane treatments, forced marriages, and whatnot.

You return back to your seat, taking note of his condition, “Is this a girlfriend, perhaps? Something that our circles don’t know yet? I’m honored to be the first.” it comes off as a jest when you start checking some notes in the sheet, half-listening to his words since you didn’t want to get anything wrong in paper. Maybe you needed to further tests but overall, he was physically fine.

“Wife, actually.” he rectified, making you pause mid-action. You lift the pen from the paper in order to not commit a mistake because this was the first time you’ve ever heard of this. Your twin hadn’t told you that Gojo Satoru had tied the knot and it clearly had stated that he was single in his data. Nevertheless, you beamed at the pleasant news and when you change his civil status to married, “I married her last year.” he clarified, "June 21, 2017...It was summer, later afternoon, her favorite season and time of day since it's the time the sun set... I don't think I've told her but I remembered being annoyed by how pretty and calm she looked that day..."

Satoru’s eyes are drawn to you when he finally divulges the story openly like a fairy tale being told because that's how it was for him, it was better than any story told him to him as a child, more magical even. The series of fortunate events that he was able to experience, the feeling of finally having someone to be able to walk next to him when he thought he was destined to be alone.

Yet in a flash of an eye and like always, it’s snatched away from him.

It seemed like his red string of fate was never tied with you in the first place and he was just taking someone else’s place there.

“She must be lucky to have such an affectionate man like you...” you finally look up to gaze upon his baby blues, quite elated by the way he had endearingly described whoever this partner was, “If you don’t mind me asking, how come she isn’t with you now, though? I’m sure she must be worried for you.”

For a man who seemed to worship the ground that his wife walked on, it’s rather pitiful that she wasn’t here in his desperate time of need.

“I don’t know, actually.” He tries to laugh it off, recalling the last day he has seen you. The way you had openly ask for his hand in marriage only to break his heart later on. He was really thinking that he’d be able to finally start anew and get rid of that frustrations and self-doubt he had in your relationship because of the way it had started. It turns out, it only worsened when you left him, “She just left one day, no proper goodbye’s...I-uh, I feel like she won’t be coming home to me anymore…”

Miserable and alone, he faces the sad truth of his situation. There was only so much he could take right now, maybe that was just a long dream, who knows? He couldn’t exactly point out what was physical with everything that’s been going on.

One thing was for sure though, the crushing wave of despair was very much real and it still drowned him.

“Despite that...I still love her though.” he confessed, “I love her very...very much…” pale cerulean hues continue to burn onto yours, retaining in his memory the happiness etched on your eyes, something that you seem to genuinely have here.

It may be a different reality, a contrasting timeline, just a dream, or whatsoever. You may be with another man, have your eyes looking at anywhere but him yet his feelings and resolved for you continue to be unchanging and unwavering. Just like how the planets continue to revolve around the sun, Gojo Satoru will continue to love you as if you are the only person in the galaxy.

Your smile suddenly dithers, gaze darting elsewhere as you let out a dry cough. Quietude fills the room as if you had heard him loud and clear, like you knew that was meant for you.

“I-I should go. Sorry about that, I just...” he paused, trying to find the right words to describe his current situation, “...it’s been very hard without her...” you. it's been so hard to wake up and realize you aren't there in his arms anymore. How many sorry’s did he have to put out there? How much of himself did he needed to change for you to come home to him? He’s desperate to get down on his knees and apologize despite not knowing what he did wrong just to have you again.

“I understand, sorry about asking such a sore topic as well.” you lower your voice, trying to clear the air whilst growing still to better observe him. You throw him a pitiful glance, as if wanting to say more yet the aching sorrow soured him like an old wound on a rainy day and he knew he had to get out of here before his eyes would well up from this.

There is no room for secondary characters like him in this place.

He has to accept that.

He knows his place. He thinks he always had known, he just didn't wanted to accept it. Maybe you were just trying to use him to get over someone else and you couldn’t handle it anymore in the end. You couldn’t really force someone to be with you when they were never yours to begin with.

“It was...It’s nice seeing you again, Y/N....” he holds out his hand. It seemed like some things never do change. No matter what place, time, and world it was, you’d still lend a listening ear to him.

Hesitantly, you shake his hand.

Unlike the smooth palms he remembers, you had calluses and roughness to it yet it remained pleasant to the touch. The same solace that he had remembered. Without letting you say anything more, he walks away, misery finally breaking through his fragile control. He doesn’t bother looking for Ieiri. Instead, he goes straight outside the hospital.

Gummy and hot eyelids that blur his vision as his throat closed in grief, he could not even breathe. The intense feeling of terror reigning over him as he tries to remain calm, bending down to force the air to come in. He could feel his body turning numb and shutting down like a machine. He knows he shouldn’t feel this way yet his senses were deceiving him. Everything so far was veridical and corporeal to the point where he’s starting to question it all.

god, did the world have to remind him that his wife’s true happy ending was never supposed to be with him?

Everything he was insecure about, everything he loathed about his own marriage and himself as a lover and a husband, suddenly slaps him brutally and he feels like it’s going to leave a mark on him permanently.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Inhale

Ex-

“Mister? Mister? You alright?” a small voice prods him as he’s bending down, raggedly and desperately wheezing for some air like a man drifting in the orbit with no space suit. He sees small tennis shoes stopping in front of his expensive leather ones.

He’s about to tell the kid to buzz off like the usual yet when he slowly raises his head, he’s face to face with two raven haired kids that complement their pair of deep-set (e/c) orbs, they’re gingerly eyeing him and his current crises. Their features are rather familiar, like a mix carbon-copy of two individuals he’s known well, “Yeah, sorry…” He tries to catch his breath, “You shouldn’t-” ready to scold the kid for running around without a guardian.

“Okaasan’s a doctor inside. you seem to need a lot of help, Mister. Maybe we can help you inside-” The older boy lets go of his younger sibling, small hands ready to check his temperature on his forehead yet a very loud and perturbed voice truncates the moment.

“Ken! Hana!” His muscles turn tense at the boisterous sound he hasn’t heard in a decade, “...God, don’t just run ahead of me like that! Your okaasan’s going to K-word me with- oh, hey man, are you alright?” A tall, lithe, and overly-familiar figure stands in front of him, with hair as black as night along complementing his soft and cherubic features that could probably rival those angels that Michelangelo painted in the Sistine chapel. The very same person that he wanted to hate but had no right to because he was just too god damn perfect, stood across him with your two kids.

Right, it made sense.

How had he not connect two and two together?

He collects himself, trying to pick-up the pieces on his own because no one will be there to help him.

Just like always, Gojo Satoru will continue to walk those long and weary paths on his own because no matter how hard he tries to get those that mattered to stay next to him, they never do.

“Yeah,” Satoru raises his hand, trying to stand properly, signaling he was fine, “I-uh, mild asthma attacks. It’s why I’m here...” he lies, gaze shifting to your eldest son. The one with the very spitting image of you. The boy has his face warped to a bemused expression as if he knew the albino-haired man’s dishonesty, “You must be Y/N’s husband.”

“Oh,” he holds out his hand, features lighting up even further as if the man had eaten all the stars in one go, “I’m Haibara, Yu Haibara... you must be my wife’s patient?”

His wife. His lover. His Y/N.

He didn’t even stood a chance to begin with.

It’s so obvious that without the bridal market and that messed up life you had, you would end up with Yu Haibara and have this picturesque perfect suburban life. Satoru despised the fact that it fitted you both so well and how natural for him it all was unlike him.

“Yeah, she’s probably getting off soon. She’s a wonderful person…” his grip on Yu’s hand is weak, “...I uh, I’m happy that things went well for you guys…”

“That’s nice!” He’s getting the reason why Nanami adored the idea of you two together, “...You seem to know her well, would you like to come with us and the kids? We’re having lunch out-”

“I’m good, business and all that.” He lied again, smoothing out the invisible wrinkles of his pants, “Maybe next time.” He turned to the two kids, awkwardly ruffling each of their hairs. You must’ve been an amazing mother since they seem to not look as mischievous or conniving like he had expected them to be, “I’ll see you around. Thanks for the offer, again.” he nods, trying to offer him a polite smile.

“I think you’re the best man I could ever marry, Satoru. May it be in this life or the next…”

There is truly no you and him in another life.

It was that one precise reality.

Just that very specific one.

And he couldn’t even let you stay with him in the end.

With a defeated heart, his feet reels away from the hospital. Not even daring to look back at the painful actuality of his situation.

For the very space that was created between his dreams and his reality was probably the most twisted of them all.

THE END

taglist (yay thanks for being there and giving it some love!);; @shokobuns ;; @aprosperlys ;; @menacanela ;; @shutuptenguu ;; @imuziawi ;; @senjuasuna ;; ;; @jjkdilfs ;; @kageyamakock ;; @pjofics ;; ;; @cowward ;; @tsumuuwu ;; @gojojogo ;; @fiona782 ;; @hinaamaya ;; @taihjj ;; @menacanela ;; @roione ;; @kgojo ;; @archonssun ;; @gyubit17 ;; @cupieyeri ;; @enesitamor ;; @lavandula-stuff ;; @yuutaokkutsu ;; @rogueofbullshit;; @kiyoojima ;; @daiawritss ;; @cosmeti ;; @wasurenagusaa ; @gomchan ;; @rinnieroulette ;; @pissbbyai authors note not one for sentiments but minazuki has recieved sm love from the community (fanarts, a lot of asks, and lots and lots of love) i remain firm on my decision on having no part 2's or sequels bcos honestly it wouldnt make any sense if I did (seeing as where satoru is rn, basically those are just very heavy manipulative mind shit and i thot it would be so cool to see him in a world where y/n and him aren't in line, so yes this will be the life he's living in the prison realm until he kills himself there or until someone takes him out there. HAHA. i just, find their love beautiful i guess? their is no him and y/n in another lifetime, its just that one but theyre willing to go so far for each other <3) -pat <3

P.S. totally had fun with this series, i hope each and everyone of you did as well <3 minazuki is now signing off <3

P.P.S i still see some of you getting confused with the ending but here is a better explanation

#jjk x reader #jjk imagines #jjk angst #gojo satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #Jujutsu Kaisen #satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen gojo #gojo saturo x reader #gojo saturo #hostclub.adulting #📝📝.minazuki mini series #the end

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quirklessidiot · 3 years

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title : minazuki [5:stray cat] pairing : gojo satoru x f!y/n Genre: angst, arranged-marriage au, mystery/thriller, romance, mature, enemies-to-lovers-ish, and very slow burn (canon compliant-ish for ch-0 to the anime)

Summary: In which Y/N L/N is placed under a union she has no choice but to partake for the sake of her survival.

Warnings: language, kind of manipulative!y/n, mentions of death, manga spoilers, sleeping problems, mild mentions of cannibalism (brief), unfair system (?), satoru has a weird moment (idk what to call it) Notes: still amazed by how people are still curious about this story but ily all sm hehe thanks for the support kith kith! (not beta’d as always gudbye)

series masterlist || taglist closed ||

Chapter summary A tidal shift, one that’ll affect you. Meanwhile, you and Satoru are meeting a bit too frequently that he can’t seem to turn away as much as before.

You hadn’t heard from Megumi and Satoru in two days.

Although you’re sure that Satoru is fine, god knows it would take more than a lost finger to kill him, you were more worried for Megumi who hadn’t even answered your call nor texted you. The six-eyed shaman came in time, didn’t he? Whatever had happened with the lost finger wasn’t probably as drastic as you thought it would be, right? You stare at your plate for a fleeting moment, the vegetables, rice, and meat looking unappetizing since agonizing thoughts about the young boy and how he was fairing started to pile up.

It also didn’t help that this was something that involved Sukuna Ryomen, a person that was apparently connected to your past and the first user. Your grandmother had hinted that the curse had probably some minor involvement in your family. After all, he was considered a feared and high individual to jujutsu sorcerers at that time. A part of you hypothesized that the monster might’ve clashed or better yet, might’ve eaten your ancestor. He was known to be cannibalistic and had apparently feasted on his enemies during his reign of terror, may it be curses or humans alike. Anything with flesh, basically.

The thought mildly bothered you that you found yourself not being able to escape from such thoughts. If Sukuna Ryomen could come back to life, would he recognize you despite suppressing your amounts of cursed energy? The most probable scenario would be another death flag on your head if he had resurrected. Another thing that you didn’t need.

You pick on your meat with the chopsticks, taking one pint-size bite before washing it down with a glug of water.

Being in the unknown always brought certain dread on your part, you always had to be cognizant of the cards being put on the table. Even if it was a little piece of information or something as drastic as a shift. It was like that one saying in the book you’ve read as a child, one that the populous coined as the butterfly effect, ‘how the light fluttering of butterfly wings can cause unpredictable consequences and may lead to large-scale phenomena's,’ it’s one you’ve remembered so well and one that taught you to always stay one step ahead of everything to prevent and deter unwanted events.

Hana, who was standing behind you, looked mildly solicitous the whole time since she kept glancing your way every few seconds. Ever since you had come home that night and your trip had been cut short, you barely did any of your usual day to day activities. Another round of rumors started to escalate in the estate that you were depressed about the trip and that your husband had stopped paying attention to you, another side kept pressing that apparently it was the pregnancy blues. The young maid, on the other hand, thinks you’re mad at her for the stunt she pulled which was letting you and Satoru stay in one room, “Y/N-san?” she hesitantly calls out to you yet you're so far up your head that you don’t even hear her calling out your name, “Y-Y/N-san?” she repeats.

Your eyes darted away from your food and towards the young girl who was looking at you with crestfallen eyes, “Is the food not good enough? Would you like me to send it back to the chef?” she asked, you notice the reluctance in her tone and her shaking hands as if she was jittery about certain things. The corner of your mouth quirks up, trying to appease her that you weren’t irate about anything at all.

“You look like you haven't eaten much either, Hana.” You kindly spoke, placing the chopsticks down next to you, “Come, I think the reason why I’m not able to enjoy food is because you’re standing behind me and looking at me as if I’m some kind of vulture ready to pounce.”

“Oh,” her eyes went round at your choice of words, sheepishly, her gaze shifts down to her feet, trying to pry away from your tender eyes, “I couldn’t do that, Y/N-sa-”

“I insist.” You ushered, standing up so that you could pull a chair out for her, “Come on, sit down.”

The young girl gulps and hesitantly sits next to you as you call in another maid to set a place up next to you. Hana looks down at the expensive chinaware, one that probably cost more than her years worth of salary combined then at you who started putting food on her plate, “Y/N-sama...” she tries to say, ears turning red in embarrassment that the high lady of the Gojo Clan was serving her a meal.

“I enjoyed the trip.” you cut her off, trying to diminish her worries. It was technically not a lie since Sendai was as beautiful as described to you. It may not have been the partner you wanted to be with but Satoru was more or less cooperative and actually bearable throughout the whole trip, you were even able to learn something new about your husband because of Hana’s little scheme, “Satoru-sama and I had a wonderful time thanks to you.”

“Huh,” she blinks, not expecting those words from you at all. She was expecting you to scold her that she tried to pull that one off but you didn’t seem mad about it, “I...I’m really glad, I thought you’d be mad…”

“Of course, I’m not...” you take note of her words and her expression, “But I am quite sad that the trip ended abruptly, that’s all…”

Her lips formed to a small O, her brows furrowing together as she nodded. Leaning in closer as she clasped her hands together, ready to lend an ear to listen to your problems. How sweet.

“And that’s why I ended up being quite worried for my husband,” You slowly began, if your husband wasn’t going to call you, you might as well gather information elsewhere. For the most part, you’re sure that Gojo Satoru doesn’t want to talk business with you. The man liked to keep the grisly details of his work away from you since he thought you couldn’t stomach it. Add the fact he might find it uncanny if his wife, one who hadn’t even done field work or practiced jujutsu would suddenly poke around his business, “You see, he hasn’t called since that night.”

Hana’s brows furrowed together when she heard your harrowing tone and started chewing on her bottom lip, that was why you looked very disconnected these past few days! You were worried for your husband, “Y/N-sama,” she fervently broadcasts, “You should’ve told me earlier! I have a cousin who works under one of the elders.”

You knew this, that’s precisely one of the reasons why you had hired her in the first place.

“Really?” you hesitantly replied, starting to chew on your bottom lip. It was quite easy to coax and appeal to the young girl’s sympathy with just a few honeyed words and dulcet tones, “Hana, I couldn’t exactly impose on you to do something like that-”

Hana immediately shakes her head and leans in closer, “Don’t worry, Y/N-sama. I wouldn’t want to keep you worried. You’ve been down in the dumps and keeping the other maids and workers worried as well.” she earnestly interjected.

It seemed like things were in favor for you after all and being worried for Megumi had it’s advantages.

“Oh no,” you faltered, sounding apologetic, face contorted to a deprecatory expression, “I didn’t mean to make anyone worry at all…”

“It’s absolutely normal,” she justified, her eyes filled with vigor and enthusiasm in attempts to comfort you, as if whatever your feeling was heard and taken into account, “I can call in my cousin, Y/N-sama. He’s actually one of those people who is very much interested in yours and Satoru-sama’s story. You didn’t hear it from me but apparently one of the elders in the Gojo Clan was ousted after um…” Her voice drops to a hushed tone. She starts making an awkward facial expression as if she didn’t want to say what had happened out loud and what she was about to share was confidential.

You tilt your head to the side, quick at picking up what she meant. You didn’t know that. He didn’t tell you that he had dismissed an elder on your part. You weren’t even aware that he knew what had happened during that time. The sudden revelation makes you take a deep breath, your hands drop on top of the expensive mahogany table and slowly drum on the hard surface as you carefully asses what to say next, “I haven’t heard of that…” you truthfully voiced, pretending to sound disinterested but subtly, you were urging the young girl to tell you more.

You knew how hard it would be to do that sort of exertion. In fact, removing an elder of a clan was considered to be quite the move since they were considered to be senior individuals and second-in-commands in case something were to happen. One’s that the head of the clan apparently needed to keep the smaller clans under it in check, it was like severing important connections beneath it, so doing such things haphazardly made your head throb as you promptly tried to run over the list of notions you could pull out of your knowledge.

Gojo Satoru may go around and acclaim himself to be a panjandrum but people were always needed to keep the power balance in check within the clan.

“Oh, Y/N-sama…” the young girl began, starting to explain what had happened, her eyes sparkling as she started gossiping about what had gone down that time, her hands gesticulating frantically as she tries to get point across, “We didn’t know how Satoru-sama knew about such things either! You ordered everyone after all to keep a tight lip regarding what had happened that day but my cousin had told me Satoru-sama came into a meeting with the high council and had one of the elders of the Gojo Clan dismissed on the grounds of insubordination and exploitation of you, the one and only lady…”

Hana catches her breath after finishing the rather lengthy statement yet you try to remain unfazed about the whole ordeal, your mouth twists to a faux smile as you hold out your hand to reach hers, “Hana, thank you for telling me.” you imparted, holding her rough hands on your softer ones, “I- honestly, with what’s been going on between me and him, it’s been quite the messy situation but after hearing that. I’m at ease.”

The young girl holds onto your hand tightly, “Don’t worry, Y/N-sama.” she emitted, “I’ll be sure to tell you what’s been going on around there. Everything.”

The saccharine coated smile never disappears as you continue on with your front, “Thank you, it’s nice to know I have someone I can count on.” you expressed, bestowing your humble gratitude upon her.

Yet despite Hana’s cooperativeness, another question is directed towards your husband. Why had he done this? Better yet, why hadn’t he even told you? Even if it was an agreement between the both of you that you’d be under his protection, going through such lengths and even keeping it a secret was too much even for his part.

You might have to withhold this information until you’re well aware of his intentions, Satoru may have some sort of savior complex but he and you were not on those terms nor in that same line of vision yet.

You feel your breath hitch as your fingers slowly reach for your right ear, tugging the lobe as you watched Hana enjoy her meal and continue to gush on and on about how both you and Satoru were such a pair that might change the outlook of arranged marriages and how bridal markets were in this world yet your mind is elsewhere.

The thought of it being something as genuine kindness would be something else.

Kindness.

The sudden warmth of where he had touched you is felt on your fingertips.

What were you even thinking?

Satoru meant to call home after Itadori Yuuji had collapsed in his arms that night but it had escaped his mind when the council started clamoring and asking for questions, there was a massive influx of panic and chaos as soon as it reached their ears that someone a normal human had eaten the cursed finger of Sukuna Ryomen and lived to tell the tale.

Of course, it ended with him in front of loathsome and detestable individuals along with a long argument as to why the young boy needed to be disposed of immediately, “Shouldn’t you be thinking of your wife as well in this situation?” a very familiar elder barked, wasn’t he the same man who tried to use you last time during Yuta’s execution? This man sure had the audacity to care about your well-being now, “This boy may turn to a menace! He will rape and slaughter anything on his path! Leaving no stone unturned! He’ll not even leave your wife alone if he knows of her existence after what you did to him!”

Satoru’s eyes narrowed behind his sunglasses, his lips drawing back in a snarl at the old man’s choice of words. After catching wind of what these old men had tried to pull towards you, they ought to be thankful that you were a nice person who didn’t like talking about your troublesome past. Unlike you who seemed to bow down to the system, Satoru, on the other hand, wasn’t as good-natured, he didn’t want to pull his punches after that short trip that you two had and after seeing you on the floor, expression downtrodden and in shock. The fear etched on your face whilst you slept. It laid a mark, one he’ll never forget. You, His wife, one who had always paraded with empty eyes and faux expressions, one who had made him mildly uneasy because of that, had looked like you’d seen a ghost. One that haunted you and had you on the choke-hold.

“Bold of you to assume I can’t protect my wife,” he bellows, stuffing his hands back in his pockets, recounting that time they tried to use you for leverage, “I advise you to keep your nose out of her business, after that stunt you tried to pull during Okkotsu’s execution, you know what’ll happen if you keep throwing her name around carelessly.”

The elder looks away from the shaman, not wanting to hear what else he has to say. Good, he was dumbstruck. He better keep your name away from his mouth, “Now, I believe we can come to the agreement that we need the boy. There’s no guarantee after all we can ever find someone in reach to be Sukuna’s vessel.” he dictated. After hearing what Megumi wanted last night for his new-found acquaintance, he’s on a mission to follow his student’s well-wishes and achieve the dream that he wants for the future, Itadori Yuuji won’t die today. He’ll live to see another day and Gojo Satoru will make sure he’ll never step foot on an execution platform ever.

“You can’t keep going around-” another one tries to bark back at him, fucking dogs.

“You know what I’m capable of.” he cuts him off, unhinged eyes staring down at each old man in the room, the sudden color of their faces are drained as they look at those spine chilling sapphiric eyes, ones that wouldn’t hesitate to commit a bloody mayhem, “And you know I won’t hesitate. So let Itadori Yuuji eat all those twenty fingers before you execute him.” he asserted.

The room is reduced to stillness, the threatening words sinking right in their bones. All of them are well-aware that the shaman isn’t exactly spouting out baseless threats.

One old man stands up, trying to pacify the whole situation, “I believe the six-eyes has a point.” he averred, “I’m sure we can make use of the child, either ways, it’s not exactly a bad solution given our situation as of late. If he tries to run or gets out of line, it’ll be easy to cut his head off since we now have a body that's insubstantial and disposable.”

Hushed whispers broke out of the room, some relatively agreeing but most were still hesitant. They’re a bunch of cowards in Satoru’s perspective, idiots who aren’t able to comprehend this situation. His gaze shifts to Yoshinobu Gakuganji who's looking unamused on the side and refuses to say anything out loud, Satoru takes note that he might be a problem to be dealt with later on, he might even try to visit you again like last time, “Then I believe we can come down to a compact.” The same older man dictated, “Itadori Yuuji’s execution is delayed…for the time being…”

The meeting is over and Satoru is on his way out, the sound of his footsteps echoing the empty place. An injured Megumi is standing there and leaning against the wooden surface, looking at his phone with a perplexed expression, “What’s got your face in a twist?” The shaman’s tone is changed to a more lax and playful one, his shoulders are now more relaxed as he accompanies the young boy.

“Y/N-san tried to call, she even texted just now.” he enunciated, raising his phone to show him the text message, “Didn’t you call her?”

Satoru stares at the young boy for a moment, it seemed like he was smart enough not to answer because he’s well-aware that if he did, you’d be asking if he had any injuries and that would get the both of them in trouble, “Don’t answer her until you’re fully recovered.” he stated, snatching the phone from the young one’s grasp and putting it in Megumi’s pockets, ignoring the prying expression that he was giving him. The pair starts walking down the long hallways side by side, “I’m trying to fix some things with her and I don’t want another argument for a moment.” he added.

The raven-haired boy directs his gaze towards his mentor, eyebrows raised, and green eyes laced with nosiness, “Sensei,” the boy paused for a definite moment, contemplating the next few words, “Do you seriously think that me being injured would start an argument between you two?” It sounded funny when Megumi said it out loud and usually the older shaman would laugh at that sort of thing, after all, he had never envisioned hiding such things like this to his wife.

“She seems to like you more than me.” It may sound like a joke but in all fairness, it wasn’t a lie.

“But aren’t you married?”

The pair is silent for a moment as soon as Megumi lets go of those words, Satoru wasn’t in the mood to get down on the deep and complex relationship you two had and why it didn’t seem to work out very well at first. Other than the fact that he bought you something Megumi isn't entirely aware of it delved deeper than some sort of just opposing thoughts and small arguments, you and him were both raised differently with different outlooks and privileges and it was hard to find common ground in the beginning because of that, “It’s complicated.” he simply disclosed, “You’ll understand when you get older. Marriage is more than love and affection after all in this society.”

Megumi ended up being more confused, why was marriage even different here? He knew it was an arrangement but wouldn’t people usually end up loving their spouses either way because of vows and such?

“Don’t think too much of it.” Satoru calls him out as if he was reading his thoughts, stopping in his tracks and turning to him, Megumi following suit, “Even Y/N wouldn’t want you to think too much of it. In the end, she and I are making it work. That’s that.”

It doesn’t exactly appease the young boy’s growing curiosity between you two, “Now, if you’re done poking around my marriage. Yuuji’s case is solved.” Satoru revealed, placing his hands on his pocket as he started taking long strides yet again. Megumi’s eyes slightly widen as he matches his teacher’s pace.

“He’ll live.” Satoru finished, “We’ll find those twenty fingers and he’ll eat each of them.”

Megumi looks quite disheartened at the bargain that they had to come about with, Yuuji was an innocent guy who had a life ahead of him and because of his incompetence, he got dragged into this mess. Satoru is well-aware of that look and is quick to find a solution for him, “You should tell Y/N about that part.” he suddenly advised, “Bring Yuuji next time too. I bet she’d love him.”

“What?”

“She’s a good listener.” Satoru lazily shrugged, looking ahead of him and not even bothering to glance back at the boy next to him, “And you know how lonely she can get around the house because she’s not very, ah, outgoing as you recalled. When we get back to Tokyo and you’re all healed up, go give her a visit.”

The boy rightfully takes his mentor's rather surprising advice and does so.

When they’re all back in Tokyo, Megumi ends up in front of your doorstep. He’s rather skittish as he tries to tug his sleeves down since he hadn’t answered your calls or texts for the past week, after Yuuji’s matter had been settled and his dorms were already fixed up, and after they had picked up their new classmate by the station, Nobara Kugisaki, a girl who had a weird obsession with shopping and wanting to move around Tokyo too much. He’s right here and uninjured.

Satoru had advised him that it would be best if Megumi had been the one to tell you what had happened so far. A warm-up as he’d like to say. The boy thinks he’s being used as a scape-goat and although he wants to argue with his teacher that he was being absurd and he was overreacting, he ends up biting back his tongue.

“Megumi?” Your eyes are glossed with worry, hands pressed together on top of your expensive silk yukata, altruistic eyes, ones that held no ire behind them, staring right at his transparent and trusting green ones, “You didn’t answer my call. I thought Satoru-sama came too late and you got heavily injured.”

“I’m fine, Y/N-san.” He mumbles, ears turning hot in embarrassment that he had made you worry like this. It’s been so long since he felt someone looking out for him, Tsumiki would usually end up scolding him if he ever went back home in a very rough state and he’s getting that sort of treatment from you, someone who he had just known for a year and wasn’t even related by blood, “Just...a lot happened…”

Your brows are drawn together as you take in his words. Hana had informed you of the harsh events that had transpired during this past week but judging by the young boy’s avoidance and reluctance of the topic and how he seemed to be dancing around it, he seemed to be blaming himself for it, “You know,” you trailed off, “I made something with Hana earlier, you might want to sit down and try it with me since Satoru-sama might not be home again.”

Megumi clears his throat, “He says he’ll try to come home today. He’s just trying to help Itadori out.”

“Itadori?” you feigned ignorance. Hana had narrated just last night that there had been an ordinary human being who had foolishly consumed a finger of the cursed monster and was able to walk it off as if it was nothing, unknowingly becoming a vessel. Your husband had been kind enough to save him from his death sentence. You’re not even surprised by that action anymore, after the lengths he went to protect Okkotsu Yuta, you now viewed your husband as a man who seems to make it his mission to save every child at death’s door in this world.

You guessed being some man with a savior complex would let him do such things.

Yet you do end up wondering just how you were going to have to avoid the child that your husband had just saved, a piece of someone lies within him, one who may have been your family’s foe. One who may openly put a death flag on you if he starts to be well-aware of you.

“He-uh…” he paused, scratching his head, not entirely sure how he should word it out to you, “He ate a finger...Sukuna’s finger…”

“Ate?” you blinked, Megumi looks mildly displeased as he looks down at his feet. The leaves down there look more interesting rather than seeing your most likely disappointed expression.

“It was my fault, Y/N-san...He..he-” he tries to find the right words to explain the situation to you, looking just as lost.

“Come on,” you cut him off, not wanting to hear him beat himself up for it, “It seemed like you had a rough week. I see that’s why you couldn’t call me back.”

Megumi looks up, your back already facing him, “I...sorry about that, Y/N-san.” he apologized once again, tips of his ears flushed.

“Those Doarayaki’s I made aren’t going to eat themselves. You can tell me whatever you want but on one condition.” The young raven-haired trails behind you, taking his shoes off, as he’s confused by the sudden request, “...Don’t blame yourself, Megumi.” you turn to him, it’s a tone that he’s mildly familiar with since you had used the same one when you both had met last year during the time when Tsumiki had suddenly fallen into a coma.

“Right.”

“It’s never right for a child to burden himself with things like that, after all.” you necessitated, walking ahead of him in a slow pace, leaving him there with his own thoughts. Megumi feels his chest turn lighter when you say those words. He’s entirely sure that he’d definitely feel lost without you around here.

It’s late again on that same day.

You’re on your way back to your room. The lights on the hallways are dim when you find your husband standing there, just about to re-enter his room. Tired oceanic blue eyes staring at you and faint eye bags underneath it, signaling that he might’ve had a very long week like the boy earlier. There's a towel laying on top of his head, probably to dry his silvery-wet hair.

“Still can’t sleep?” he yawns, as he starts ruffling his hair with the cotton towel.

The first conversation you both had since that moment in the car and since you had known what he did. You lick your dry lips, balling your fists tight. For the first time, anxiety is eating you up as you try to pick up on the next few words, “Just the usual.” you breathed. He’s nonchalant as always and back to being unreadable, your thoughts about him jumbled up like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle in a box. A part of you thought you’d known him better but now that he’s in front of you, it’s thrown out the window again.

Yet you couldn’t be mad nor lash out at him, this time.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” His smile is lazy and relaxed, your gaze suddenly averted elsewhere, not sure on how to respond to that, “Want me to sit on the floor and keep you company again?”

“You’ve probably been awake on most days.” you cleared your throat, “Megumi told me...you picked up another stray cat…”

“Ah,” he nods, continuing with his ministrations on his hair. It’s mildly bothering you that a fully-grown man can’t even dry his hair properly, “I did, he’s adorable. Bright kid. Pink hair. Likes Jennifer Lawrence a bit too much.” he stops mid-action as he tells you more about Itadori Yuuji, you didn’t bother to cut him off and continued to listen to what he had to say. Satoru keeps tabs on how you listen to each of his words despite you probably knowing all this from Megumi.

“He’s a different case from Okkotsu-kun.” your lips pursed together, the council wouldn’t obviously let this one live, “Aren’t you just...prolonging his agony?”

“You have a soft spot for kids who are on death’s door, don’t you?” Your husband mused, recalling that time when you held him back when Okkotsu Yuta was facing the same predicament. It’s strange but he thinks it’s due to your kind-heartedness and how you can’t seem to turn away on things like that despite it being frowned upon by many.

He was about to return to toweling his hair yet you pluck it away from his grasp, making his face contort to a muddled expression.

“Because they’re kids.” You simply replied, when deep down you related to them. The feeling of having to knock on death's door at such a young age, the feeling that you weren’t supposed to exist and that you weren’t supposed to be here, “And you dry your hair terribly. It’s bothering me.”

A silent laugh comes out of his lips as you call out his habit out yet you ignore him and simply motion him into his room, “Come on, sit down. I’ll do it for you.” you lilted. The shaman blinks at the innocence of your tone and how unbothered you seem to be when you freely enter his room.

He trails behind you, glancing at how your bare feet lightly pats on the floor. The graceful manner of walking never leaves his line of sight along with how your nightie rides up and the haori does nothing to even cover the naked flesh that he sees. At times, Satoru forgets how maidenly pure you are. That you were unaware of these unsullied things despite the confidence you showed towards him.

“I’ll sit on the floor,” Satoru mumbles and before you could even protest that he shouldn’t be doing such things again, he sits down near the edge of his bed. The air feels different than before, maybe it was your uneasiness because of what you’ve come to know earlier this past week or maybe it was because things have been different between you two these days. He seems to have trusted you more while you were still in the middle, wondering, waiting, for him to betray you along with the small voice telling you that this was simply short-lived. You clutch the towel on your hand tighter as you carefully shuffle towards him and sit behind him in the comforts of his warm duvet.

Your husband feels your soft fingertips brush his damp hair as you rake your fingers through it, the cozy action making him sleepier, “You’ll destroy your hair with this.” You tenderly start to pat his hair with the towel.

“Hm.” he hummed in reply, leaning back, the feeling of your thighs and warm flesh was a new thing, one he didn’t seem to mind and you didn’t bother to complain either. Instead, you continue with what you were doing, “M’hair is perfectly fine.”

“Then you can do it-”

He suddenly takes a hold of your wrist, suddenly facing you, “Didn’t exactly tell you to stop though.” he utters, his azure eyes locking onto yours again.

Gingerly, he lets go and returns his gaze upfront while you chew on your bottom lip. The comfortableness and quietude of the room slowly sinking in as you readjust yourself to be able to dry his locks, “Hey Y/N?” he suddenly began, his voice low, probably because drowsiness was slowly overtaking him, “The council might try to get my ass for this again.”

“Don’t they always? Itadori-kun is just another excuse added to a long list.”

He lets out a mirthless laugh at your choice of words, typical, “I know,” he tries to blink the tiredness away, “I’m starting to feel quite bad for you, though. You’ve had…” He yawns, “Quite the hard time growing up, after all and now your husband is running around, doing things...a lot of things…”

“We’ve talked about this before.” you addressed, “Haven’t I told you that you won’t be losing either?”

“Good point.” he turns to you, once again, his head slowly bending down to rest on the edge of his bed, face mildly drowsy as he looks above him, “But what about you?”

“What about me?”

“You’re unguarded. Vulnerable. The council likes to keep bringing you up when I’m seeing them.” He starts listing reason after reason, saying the last one in displeasure as he recalls the last meeting he had with them and the one before that, “I might just end up actually losing you instead.”

Satoru isn’t sure why he had said that out loud but the idea of you suddenly disappearing didn’t sit right with him. He’s grown used to you, already. Whatever pattern or habit you seem to have had become a part of his life, seeing you at the dead of the night was one of those moments that he’s also grown accustomed to. Sitting down on the floor whilst you stayed on top wasn’t a problem either. Even your weird snapbacks and arguments as well.

It’s bizarre, you’ve unknowingly cemented yourself in his life already.

“You’ve grown soft.” you confessed, placing the towel down to your side, trying to maintain the tone in your voice, “As much as I appreciate the sudden concern, I’ll be fine.”

“You always say that even when you're not.” He takes his other hand to grab ahold of your wrist, “You have that reversed technique but I wonder just how many marks are placed here from repeatedly tightening your fists whenever you say that and lie to my face.”

“Back to assessing me?”

“No,” his hands start trailing upwards, tracing the outline of your hands where the nail marks used to be, “It’s just, I wish you’d sometimes stop looking at me like that.”

You're silent for a moment, his vague words making you hold your breath, a line appearing on your forehead as you try to assess his words, “Like what?”

“Like I’m the rest of them.” The room turns heavy as he addresses the crux of the matter head on, he doesn’t let go, instead, his rough fingers continues to linger on your flesh. You chew the insides of your cheek, your husband's unsettlingly calm gaze never leaving you as silence envelopes the room once again.

Your lips part to a small sigh as you lean in closer, placing a hand on top of his forehead to be able to check his temperature.

“The lack of sleep is getting to you.” you lied, ignoring the way your heart starts thumping fast at how honest your husband was becoming, “You’re saying things as if you didn’t call me a scheming bitch just a few months ago.” your words are harsh once again as you try to get him to snap back to your realities. Gojo Satoru isn’t like this, he doesn’t care. He’s not supposed to, at least to this extent.

Your husband lets out another round of breathless chuckle, “Right.” he acknowledged, “Right. Too much for a night?”

“No,” lies, lies, lies, his touch is burning on your skin just like the last time, “You’re just saying things out of character.”

“It seems like I’m not the one doing the little assessment after all.” He throws back your words from earlier, letting go of your hand. Immediately you pull it back and toss the towel at his face. Not even bothering anymore to reply because you didn’t know what to say. Your husband, as usual, doesn’t have his infinity on so it hits him right in the face, “Nice aim, Y/N.” He jokes as it falls to the bed. The moment was gone as soon as it came.

“Get some rest.” You ignored him as you slid out the comforts of his warm bed, the cold bare floor plunging you back to existence as you tried to erase what he had just said moments ago. Things were getting hard, he was making things too hard for you already.

“I will, if things aren’t going well again tonight, my door’s always open for you.”

You try to disregard his words as you shut the door behind you. Your grip on his door knob is tight. Something is lingering on your chest, guilt, most likely. Something you didn’t expect to feel towards him.

“You’re too soft.” Your grandmother’s words reverb in your memory, “Like a dog that keeps being loyal despite being kicked down by its owners, you still keep coming back.”

You let go of the door knob and place one hand on top of your head, lightly gripping on it, “Ha.” You huffed out, shutting your eyes tight. So many thoughts jumbled in your head, sometimes you wish for your mind to just shut up for a night and let you stop thinking.

The sound of the staff coming in and out, coupled by a good morning whenever they see the master of the Gojo Clan pass by them on the long and pristine hallways. The day is mundane like any other. Calls to answer here and there, paperwork most likely to be filled up later on, cute students to teach and tease during the lessons, and most likely, seeing you for dinner if he’s able to get off Yaga’s back and a little late night chat with you again you’re more or less likely wearing those revealing nighties again. He should really stop looking at you too much. Despite the rings that bound you, it wasn’t exactly agreed upon that you’d be helping and relieving him with his carnal desires.

The white-haired shaman continues walking down the long hallways, phone on one hand, toast on the other, as his brows are bunched up together in displeasure, it seemed like the day wasn’t going to be his usual routine at all This time, he’s tasked to go on a mission a bit further, probably even longer by the looks of it. He might not be able to take you to the Tanabata on the day itself.

He stops by the window, seeing you at the garden again despite it being only seven am. He scarfed down the last of his bread and walked out to your side, you don’t even bother looking up to him when he situates himself in front of you, “Good morning.” You greet, watering the Irises and the daisies, “I thought you left.”

“Decided to sleep in for a bit.” He bends down across you, the only thing separating you is the plot of plants in the middle, “Slept quite late last night after all.”

The events of last night lingers in his head for quite a bit but you seem unruffled by it as you continue with what you’re doing, “That’s good.” You finally look up, staring him in the eye, “What are you doing here then?”

“Tanabata might be cancelled. Mission.” He puts his phone up, slowly waving it in the air, “I know how much you were looking forward to it.”

“It’s fine,” you take the small shovel and start placing some fertilizer, you're calmer now. After that conversation last night, you’re more than aware that you shouldn’t think too much of it. If this was simply a phase, then it shall be. If he’s using you, then more or less it’s a good reason since you’ll most likely stop feeling that bothersome sentiment of guilt that was slowly eating your heart inside and out whenever he sits down in front of you, “This must be long then?”

“Probably,” he shoves the phone back in his pocket before he starts twirling and playing with the delicate flowers in front of him. You’re tempted to smack his hands away despite wearing your dirty gloves because you weren’t in the mood to have your little garden destroyed but you decided against it and let him continue on with what he was doing, “We can still go when I get back. It usually lasts until August anyways.”

“Okay.”

“You’re not mad?”

“Why would I be?”

Your husband presses his lips into a thin line, something felt off about you. It was as if you were distancing yourself from him again, “Right,” He settled, “I’ll be back as soon as I can, Y/N.”

When he leaves you to your own devices, you cut down a dead leaf and another and another, the heavy feeling on your chest is still there.

Emotions such as guilt, are at times, the most hardest thing to get rid of. They are truly dreadful when they start latching onto you like those weeds growing on the ground. They tap into your senses, leaving you in despair until your death bed. Probably even more so when you’re being judged in the afterlife.

You take off your garden gloves and toss it to the side. The prickling sun slowly shows itself towards you, signifying another mundane and boring day.

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#satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo angst #jjk x reader #jjk angst #jjk imagines #jujutsu kaisen imagines #📝📝.minazuki mini series #hostclub.adulting

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quirklessidiot · 3 years

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title : minazuki [8:ichor] pairing : gojo satoru x f!y/n Genre: angst, arranged-marriage au, mystery/thriller, romance, mature, enemies-to-lovers-ish, and very slow burn (canon compliant-ish for ch-0 to the anime)

Summary: In which Y/N L/N is placed under a union she has no choice but to partake for the sake of her survival.

Warnings: mild mentions of concubines/prostitution, blood, & death Notes: eheh eheh as always not beta-read bcos we die like men goodbye (also thank u all for the love and support the series is getting kithes kithes yall are amazing mwah mwah) see yall in saturday luv u all <3

series masterlist || taglist closed ||

chapter summary: Nightly companies and silent apologies are always in order but things are never always on the right path, at least, for you that is.

It’s quite normal for a husband and a wife to sleep next to each other at night.

Yet for you and Satoru, there was a small invisible line drawn there on what married couples usually do. It’s one that you’ve never crossed since your bedrooms were technically safe spaces for the both of you yet that single morning when you had woken up in his arms, you’re more or less mortified because you were clinging onto him like a koala and although you’re sure that he’d tease you for it, he does the opposite. Instead, he nonchalantly greets you a good morning while rubbing his eyes, letting out a stifling yawn, and returns back to his room.

It doesn’t stop there.

He comes back again the next night and the night after that until he completes a whole week, sleeping on his side of the bed, making sure to ask about your day and update you about how his and Yuuji’s day went. It’s one that you don’t mind listening to, quietly sharing your points here and there which makes him more than happy that you were very participative with the conversation. The shaman even ends up cracking a few jokes like how they’re going to surprise Megumi and Nobara when the Yuuji gets back and it doesn’t escape his steady blue-eyed gaze, the corners of your mouth turning up.

Satoru admits he’s a selfish man, from the way you look at him to the way these nights had been progressing, he wanted to keep it all to himself and he didn’t want this to stop at all. There’s just something so addicting about it that he doesn’t seem to want anyone else to experience it. It’s the first time he’s ever had this sort of day-to-day interaction, that little giddy feeling that’s bubbling on his stomach wherein he had someone to come home and talk to about all these things. It’s why he’s even looking forward to going home these days, as well.

You, on the other hand, continue to tread carefully through this newfound and unconventional propinquity. Yet you don’t deny how it’s easy to separate the revered and feared being. For all he is to you right now is Gojo Satoru, a rather droll individual who provided irie company.

When you wake up this morning, you find his arms wrapped around your waist with his head buried on the crook of your neck. There wasn’t anything inherently sexual about it nor disgusting like that time when Naoya had shamelessly touched you or the way those dreams would play out, Satoru just laid there cozily, his breathing tickling your flesh.

Carefully, you remove yourself from his grasp and make your way out of bed, giving him one last look as he stirs to the side, his relaxed face and snug position could only mean he was dreaming of good things.

Satoru always arose earlier, probably out of habit because he needed to start the day before the sun hits but you’ve noticed this past week that he kept sleeping in. Even Yuuji would complain sometimes that they were supposed to start training early but his sensei would end up running late because he hadn’t been woken up by his alarm or so the excuse went.

Grabbing your undergarments, a robe, and a towel for yourself, you make your way to the shower and leave him there, sound asleep like a baby.

The warm shower hitting your bare skin was more than enough to rouse you from your half-slumber state and give you some time to think, although you ended up still having those wearying nightmares, they were more or less bearable because you’d awake on Satoru’s embrace in the middle of the night.

Usually, if it did get too much, you’d end up just hugging him a bit tighter than usual. Although the shaman seemed to be dead to the world due to overwork and exhaustion, he’d hold you back with the same manner of fervor as well. It was enough comfort to plunge you back to reality and give you the perception that it was all just a dream and that the man sleeping next to you wasn’t like that.

You grip on the shower knob tightly, the suds of the bath wash prickling down your skin as you try to recall the dreams you’ve been having. So far, you’re more than likely not getting anywhere from it but they all shared the same concept which was a tragedy and death, in general.

The one from last time though was different, probably the most different one. Although it ended in a tragic love affair, they were more or less very happy at the beginning. You wondered if you could look into it, a lord and his wife along with the hunch that she was cheating on him with a foot soldier. There might be something off the books, right? It’s a shame you couldn’t see the lord’s face though or know his name, it would be much easier if you did.

You turn the knob and wash the suds off your body with the shampoo off your hair. Right after you pat yourself dry, put on your undergarments, and garb yourself with a robe, you went out to find your husband still sound asleep. Your gaze shifts towards the clock, Yuuji might be having breakfast by now and you need to wake this one up.

“Satoru…” you place one hand on top of his bicep, gently nudging him, “Satoru…”

“Hm.” he groaned.

“It’s seven thirty, you have to wake up.”

“Five minutes.”

“Satoru.”

“Mhm.” he retorts, burying his head in his pillow and ignoring your motions. You shake your head at his response, you might as well leave him be. He’s a grown man, he’ll wake up when he wants to wake up. You stride towards your vanity and sit down, wrapping the wet ends of your hair and patting it dry whilst facing the mirror. Occasionally, you’d shift your gaze to the side to check on your husband who seems to be comfortably resting there.

It takes him a moment or so to finally wake up, the shaman slowly sitting up erectly, mouth wide open to let out a stifling yawn. His eyes blinked rapidly to adjust to the light, “Morning.” he greets you, rubbing one side of his eye. You turn to him as he cozily just sits down there, staring at the empty space.

“Are you alright?” you snap him out of his trance, his sleepy and indulgent gaze locking onto yours. There's just something so comforting with seeing you right there in front of him, getting ready, and not minding that he was just sitting on the bed. Usually he’d be out of your hair immediately but this morning, he just wants to sit down here.

“Yeah.” he mumbles, his morning voice quite raspy, “...m’good…”

“Shouldn’t you be getting ready?” He watches as you return your gaze back to the mirror, eyes wandering at the little movements you make, from the way you swatch some of the face cream on your fingers to the way you gently dab it on your face. Unintentionally, his mouth twitches to a small smile.

“ ‘m tired…” he lies, watching you do your morning routine, “Can I sit here for a moment?”

You don’t respond to his obvious lie so Satoru takes this as a yes and continues to observe your features closely He’s awestruck at the way the hazy and early-morning sun hits your bare face, the manner of how you softly comb through the strands of your hair, and how the smooth expanse of your skin peek through the fluffy bathrobe.

It had been such a mundane action that he’s seen other women done countlessly before but he continues to openly stare at you, “What are you looking at?” you suddenly inquire, noticing how his steady gaze doesn’t even leave yours for even a brief moment.

“Want me to help you?” the shaman suggested.

You turn to him, eyebrows upturned at his proposal, “What?” Satoru takes note of the way your voice is lilted with amusement.

“Your hair.” he gestures to his own, “I used to help Tsumiki before...so I know a few things…”

Satoru was rather amused by the fishtail braid he saw on the young girl one day when she was in elementary so he ended up asking her about it out of pure curiosity. Being a quick learner, he had easily acquired a skill in hair-styling.

“Oh…” the new found information is rather ludicrous to think about, you could only imagine the series of comical moments that the Fushiguro household had when they were growing up, “Do you, really?”

Satoru easily slides off the bed and casually gaits towards you, opening his palm so you can hand him your brush, “I got bored so I helped her out one day. Pretty easy.” He shared. Your fingers brush along his rough ones whilst he takes it from your grasp.

“You know how to do hair yet you can’t dry yours properly?” you dryly replied.

“Well,” He mumbled, his fingers lightly threading through your scalp, making your eyes shut tight at the warm sensation of it, “I now know thanks to you. It’s a good retirement plan, the strongest sorcerer turns hairstylist.” adding a witty wisecrack to lighten up the air.

Uncharacteristically, you let out a soft chuckle, making Satoru freeze mid-action. It was probably the first time he has evoked that sort of reaction from you, one that held no cynicism or jeering tones. Just a pure, genuine, and soft-hearted chuckle. It’s one that elicits an unfamiliar sentiment in the pits of his stomach and makes his heart thump in an atypical manner, “A hair stylist? That sounds good.” you thought out loud, snapping him out of his trance.

He clears his throat, continuing on with his ministrations, “You think so?”

“I should’ve known with the way you liked to style your hair up with a gel,” you open your eyes, looking at him from the mirror to look at what he was doing, “And how you seem to spend some time with it.”

His eyes gleamed with amusement at your retort as he parts your hair, “You should see how Tsumiki looked, the first time I did her pigtails they were uneven.” he starts reminiscing those moments when he’d play around with the young girls hair as she was growing up simultaneously when he starts braiding yours into a simple one, “She’s more nice than Megumi, though. She still went out with that hair despite the mess I made, assuring me that what I did was amazing.”

“She’s a nice girl.” You hummed, feeling his warm fingertips caress the back of your ear trailing down to the nape of your neck, collecting the stray strands that fell off before twisting it into a clean bun.

“For sure.” He places his hands on your shoulders, bending down your level to give his creation a quick look, “How’d I do?” he whispered.

“Good,” You praised, turning to him and not even noticing the close proximity you created between you two, his nose gently brushing yours making your pupils suddenly dilate at the sudden contact, “You did well.” you softly whispered, e/c eyes boring down his azure blue ones. Satoru presses his lips to a thin line at the silence that this had created, taking this as a signal to pull away and put the brush back on the table.

“I’m going to the academy today.” he stands up straight, ignoring the way his heart continues to thump as if he’d been running miles upon miles. The sensation driving his head in a frenzy, thankfully he didn’t need to put on his infinity around you. What that moment had created would’ve probably fried his brain to bits, “You should come with, I’m sure Megumi would want to see you.”

He tries to maintain and compose himself.

“How about Yuuji?”

“He can train on his own today.” Satoru returns to the side of the bed to sit down there, “I need to talk to the old man.”

The shaman watches as you enter your walk in closet, probably to grab some clothes and change there. The door remains ajar to continue on with the conversation. The action in itself makes Satoru simply stare forward and look anywhere else, “Old man? Are you meeting the elders today?” you inquired loudly so he could hear you, the rustling sound of clothes being slid on the rack is mixed with your voice.

“Gakuganji…” the name is enough for you to peep through the slightly open door.

“For what?”

“Just a little talk…” he turns to you, walking out of the door, fully clothed in casual wear with a cardigan on one of your hands, “They’re not allowing me to see them yet so might as well vent out my frustration to him that they’re dip-shits since he’s most likely involved in that as well.”

Satoru had more or less likely knew that he’d need to also bring up the topic about those two cursed spirits that he had run into a few nights ago, it was mildly alarming if they’re able to form such factions and converse to that certain level of intelligence, “He’s something, you know…” you imparted, putting on your cardigan before sitting down in front of the vanity once again to put on some accessories. The pearl earring on your hand seems heavy as the old man’s name rolls off your lips, “Gakuganji…”

The shaman knew of the predicament you faced with him and how the old man fell into the messy mixture of your life. Although he had thought that you and the old geezer were on positive terms because you seemed too friendly around him, it came quite obvious after that first time you both had dinner together that you were anything but in affable terms with him. It seemed like Gakuganji was someone you resented deeply. A person who was deemed irredeemable in your eyes.

“...You have to be careful of him and the high council, Satoru.” you exposed, your gaze turning blank as if recalling a far off memory, “...at the end of the day, they’re more than likely to turn on you when they have the chance…”

It’s a warning based on experience. One that you’re sure they wouldn’t hesitate to execute. You had to admit, the council saw Satoru as a usable chess piece like you once did and if he would get too out of line, they’d be more brutal about it. Strongest or not, your husband is on thin ice, “I know.” he looks down eyeing his clasped fingers, “You should still be more focused on yourself-”

“I’ll be fine…” you paused, the consequences were heavier for him, “You, on the other hand…”

There's heavy silence lingering in the air when you give him the cold slap of what’s to come. Although you’ve discussed this openly, the idea did not sit well with you now. You did not want to end up killing your own husband even if you had a mutual agreement for that. The punishment would be a light sentence for you if you’d look at it from an outsider’s perspective but for him, it would be a dreadful case.

Satoru laughs at this unconventional development, “Are you hesitating now?”

“I...” a line appears in between your brows, “...This agreement we had started because I we didn’t trust each other-” there was no confidence left in your tone as you tried to stammer a reply, trying to asses the right words to say in this situation but Satoru knows better.

A deal is a deal.

“No matter what happens, I still think it's fair.” He cuts you off, eyes looking up from his hands and towards you, steadily and critically assessing your reaction, “I promised to give you the life you wanted. If it winds up that you end up murdering me and the council knows, the most likely thing that’ll happen is that they’ll fear what’s to come since they’ll think you’ve turned unhinged. If we’re talking realistically, It’ll even buy you time to escape if you don’t ever want to return to the market. In the end, we both win.”

“How is dying even winning?”

“Sure it is,” Satoru lips turn to a broad and devilish grin. The stupefied faces painted on those old fucktards expressions would definitely be a sight to see in the afterlife, especially when they realize that you, the little angel, had the guts to even do that, “Because I get to choose the way I die. Isn’t that a win for me to begin with?”

If you had to be honest, seeing a heavily-injured Megumi later on that same day was not what you were expecting when you went with your husband to the college.

After that quiet and uneventful morning, after making sure that you’d be fine on your own, Satoru had dropped you off in the front. This left you to explore the school grounds by yourself just like the first time you came here when you were sixteen.

Yuuji had exclaimed earlier that his sensei seemed to be more lax with his teaching but then again, when was he ever strict? You recalled those times he and Megumi would train, the older man seemed to like making a joke about a lot of things. It’s odd that he’s slowly turning that way towards you.

“Y/N-san?” Your train of thought is cut short when you see the young boy’s state, battered and quite bruised. You quickly stride to him and place his face in between your hands.

“Who did this to you?” Your eyes double in size, the young boy flinched at the sudden contact you made as his ears burned red due to embarrassment. You weren’t supposed to see him like this. He had always tried to keep you away from this sort of thing since it didn’t seem too presentable for someone like you and although you and him go way back, he still sees you as someone who shouldn’t get their hands dirty.

“Oh,” you were so entranced by Megumi that you didn't even notice the big panda bear at the back and the lanky white-haired boy standing next to him, “Fushiguro, I didn’t know you had another sister.” the panda bear queried, his paw on his mouth, quite shocked at this sudden revelation.

“Stupid,” the jet-black haired sorcerer mutters, “This is Gojo-sensei’s wife.”

A mixture of the words ‘what’ and ‘salmon’ come stumbling out of their mouths. Although they knew their sensei was married, they didn’t really expect that Gojo Satoru would marry someone like you. You radiated a different vibe from their teacher if they had to be honest and they couldn’t even imagine you two together, lest even married. It was like comparing the sun and the moon. Two vastly different individuals.

You take heed of the warmness of the young boy’s cheeks and the sudden shyness, “I’m fine, Y/N-san…” He assures you, gently taking your hands off his face, “This is Panda-senpai and Inumaki-senpai.” gesturing towards the two and giving them proper introductions.

You benignly bow down out of respect, “Sorry for the sudden intrusion, my husband brought me here today since Megumi wasn’t able to visit the house.” this made Panda immediately panic and ashamed that you had suddenly done that.

“Oh no, no…” Panda panics, putting his paw up, waving it back and forth in the air, gesticulating that you didn’t need to apologize, “Please don’t do that, we’re more than happy to have you!”

“Salmon.” the young boy next to him affirms, nodding quickly to agree to his classmate.

“I’m glad and it’s very nice to meet you.” you shift your gaze to Megumi, your expression switches to a worrisome one once again, “Did you just come home from another mission?” you asked. The curse who must’ve beaten him up was probably a thickset and burly one since he had sustained a lot of physical injuries.

Megumi wasn’t exactly sure how to explain to you that he’s been beaten up by an upper-year student from the Kyoto Institute because he was not in favor of his ‘type’. He doesn’t even want to talk about what had happened yet Panda, being quite the tattle-tail that he is, breaks down the situation that Megumi had got this from an aggressive brawl with a boy called Todo from the Kyoto Institute which makes you raise a brow as you take out a handkerchief to gently pat on Megumi’s dirtied face.

“He beat you up because he didn’t like your type?” you exclaimed loudly as the trio led you to Shoko Ieiri’s office. Megumi winces at the sudden tone of your voice. He’s more or less surprised that you’d react this brashly since you had never raised your tone even when you and Satoru were fighting technically, you both fought in silence and it was terribly awkward and unnerving but with the way you were vociferating your thoughts now, he takes it back.

“Y/N-san-” Megumi tries to calm you down while Panda and Inumaki are in front, listening in, incredulous expressions lacing their features as you cut the young boy off, telling him that whoever this Todo was should realize how absurd and rude it was to suddenly beat someone up because of that illogical and childish reason.

The boy ends up listening to you drawl on and on, he even doesn’t stop you anymore when you halt randomly and tell him to apply more pressure on the wound before you could heal it in Ieiri’s office. You’ve developed a doting nature towards the him through this past year which makes him rather flustered that a grown woman would do this to him.

Panda opens the door for you and in their seats another battered young woman being healed by Ieiri along with Maki, the young Zen’in you’ve encountered a few months ago, sitting across her, “Oh,” her eyes widen, standing up and walking towards you, “Y/N-san? What brings you here?”

“Visiting…” your brows furrowed together at the injured young woman before turning to Maki, “Did the Todo guy do this too?”

“Oh no, no…” the second-year student shakes her head, hesitantly telling you who did it, “Uh...Mai did that…to her...”

The only thing running through your mind right now was the young girl whose sprain you had healed when she was a child, this makes you raise another brow once again, “Does Gakuganji not know how to teach basic etiquette? What kind of manners does he teach to these children these days?” you clicked your tongue in disdain, “Megumi, go take a seat there…”

“Y/N-san, you don’t need-”

“Megumi.” You smiled, tilting your head to the side, “Sit down.”

Nobara watches the interaction unfold in front of her, clearly baffled by the sudden new presence and how Megumi seemed to be quick to follow you without a lot of arguments or the usual snide comments, “That’s Y/N…” Ieiri introduces you, “Gojo’s wife.”

Kugisaki Nobara actually thought the wedding band was for show when she had seen her sensei casually wearing it one day on his neck, he always seemed like the guy who had a wife and would openly show it, “What?” she pulls a face at the sudden load of information, “She was actually real?”

Ieiri almost lets out a snort at the riposte of the young girl, more often when the students would poke around why the Gojo Satoru was wearing a wedding band around his neck, they’d only end up with a very mixed reactions when he responded that he was actually married to someone because it was far from what they expected him to be. Oh, if they only knew the seriousness of the situation.

“They’ve been married for a year.” Ieiri finishes her up, a smile on her lips, “Y/N rarely goes out though, she was raised in a strict household and she still caters to those beliefs.” she adds the last part quietly to sum up your situation. Nobara frowns at the thought of that, quickly registering what the doctor had just said.

“Doesn’t Gojo-sensei...try to get rid of that?”

Ieiri’s lips twist to a smile, “He tried. Y/N’s pretty stubborn about those certain things though...Believe it or not, they weren’t on good terms at first…”

“He tried to fight...that?” How low could her sensei go? Judging by how you tenderly treated Megumi across the room, she’d probably not have the heart to yell at you.

“But they’re doing better.” Ieiri winks, assuring the young girl that you were doing more than fine, “Your sensei can be a doting husband when he can be.” The doctor recalls the way Satoru would sometimes call her in the middle of the night to ask her about certain things and even that time when he’d ask her to come by to give her a check-up. The shaman seemed to be eating his own words when he said that he didn’t exactly want to have anything to do with you when all he has been doing these past few months had involved you very much.

Ieiri turns her gaze towards Y/N, “You need any help there?”

“Thankfully he didn’t broke anything too important so it was easily healed.” You dab a wet cloth on Megumi’s face as his face contorts to a diffident expression and he tries to pull away from you, “Please stay still, you’re in no position to keep moving.” you lightly scolded, making some of the second years and Nobara hold in their laughter when they saw how he had no choice but to follow you when you were wiping the dirt off his face.

You continue to dab the towel on his face while the battered girl from a while ago whose name is Nobara comes up to you with proper introductions. From Yuuji’s, Megumi’s, and Satoru’s stories, she was far off from the eccentric and wild teenager they described. She seemed just like your average girl who had a keen sense towards clothes and accessories since her eyes had almost doubled in size when she had asked you about those pretty pearls.

“Who gave those to you?” she starts gushing, admiring how pretty they looked.

“Satoru did.” you turn to her, twisting the wet cloth in a tight knot, the water pouring out of it.

“You’re kidding, right?”

“He bought me a whole new wardrobe when we first got married.”

Megumi raised a brow at what you said, if he recalled correctly, you and his sensei weren’t on congenial terms a year ago. When his mind looms back at those awkward dinners and Christmas dinner he had attended, he felt rattled to think about it and it made him cringe as he remembered what he did to try and get the air to cool down.

“...He’s got good taste…” Nobara exclaimed, her eyes shimmering as she saw the Mikimoto pearls, “Not only are they expensive but those are pretty hard to get by.”

The raven-haired boy is wondering if you’re trying to save his sensei’s face by proclaiming that he was a great husband who loved to spoil his wife but there was nothing but genuinity behind that tone, “They are, aren’t they?” you hummed in agreement, “But I do enjoy the little things he brings home from his quick trips though. The desserts seem rather delectable these days.”

Ieiri places a cigarette in between her lips as she listens in to your story. Well what do you know? Gojo Satoru seemed to have developed a very soft spot for his wife and it seemed like it wouldn’t be stopping anytime soon.

Apart from the constant threat towards his marriage life after their little talk about Itadori Yuuji and the cursed spirit forming factions, Satoru is mildly sure that these old men seemed to have made it their mission to just keep sticking their nose in your marriage like the fate of the world was being put in line. They weren’t stupid enough to lay a hand on you again after that stunt he pulled with an elder of the Gojo Clan, right? He has more than good legal reason to get them off your back.

But no, they continue to constantly probe about you . It didn’t help that they liked to drag you in the mess, as well. They were really keen on taking the dirty route.

Yet what he doesn’t expect as soon as he leaves the building aside from that young bluenette asking for a picture is to find your father standing there long with two young men behind him.

The last time he has seen the old man was during the wedding and at that time, you remained indifferent with both of your parents, it seemed as if you spoke more about your grandmother than the two people who brought you into this world.

Your parents seemed dead to your eyes.

“Gojo-san.” he greets, “What a surprise. We were here for Yaga but he’s apparently someplace else as of the moment...”

There's some fine lines on his face to signify aging but the same penetrating and blank gaze stare upon him, unlike you who paraded in faux smiles and gentle gestures to the public, this man was a rock through and through and he did not dare to hide it.

“Oh, do we call him cousin-in-law?” the other one at the back added, unlike the older man, that one seemed openly demented and sadistic. He has heard of your cousins who joyfully went out of their way to kill cursed spirits for fun like some sort of silly game, it was clear that the men in your family had a few screws loose.

He recalls that the taller one was named Ren, the future head, but he doesn’t exactly remember who the younger one was.

They’re probably bat-shit crazy and your father was just the same as well yet unlike the two youngsters at the back, he seemed better at hiding the savage and viciousness in his eyes. Judging by Ren’s cocky stance, he seemed to be more arrogant than him and that was saying something.

“Don’t be stupid. Do cousin-in-laws even exist?” the other retorted, one who seemed to be just around Yuta’s age. There’s a bored expression painted on his face as he puts one finger in his ear to scratch it, along with listlessly gazing upon the strongest shaman up and down,

“Boys,” your father cleared his throat, trying to shush them up, “Show some respect.”

“Oh my,” Satoru puts up a smile, raising his hand, “Don’t get all formal with me. I wasn’t able to talk to you at the wedding so seeing you here…” His eyes narrowed behind the blindfold. Something had always felt off about the old man but then again, what kind of father would shamelessly sell their daughter with no qualms of contrition and orchestrate a mission that turned out to be a warning and an assassination just because his daughter had befriended a couple of men?

This man would easily take in the worst father in the history books.

“Right, right. It’s more than good coincidence to run into you here. It’s a shame you couldn’t come with my daughter when she visited my wife.”

Well, he didn’t know that part.

“Too busy, maybe next time.” he tries to save face that you hadn’t asked permission, for all he knew they’d start blasting you if they knew you went out without asking him and he was no snitch.

“I’m sure you and Y/N can go to the baby’s party… right, oji-san?” Ren adds, head tilting to the side, “They were planning to send in some invites for our new addition to the family. Cute baby boy.” there was something off about those words and the way your father seemed rather displease that he’d brought the subject matter up.

“Your wife is having a baby? Congratulations.” Satoru’s attention turns towards the tall (h/c) individual.

“Oh, no no…” Ren exclaimed, maintaining his unquiet and impetuous disposition, “Not me, uncle is. Your wife is having a baby brother on her way.”

Satoru’s lips pressed to a thin line at the sudden news, wasn’t this something that you’d not really hide?

“That’s wonderful,” he congratulates your father, “I’m sure me and Y/N will be able to come during the ceremony.”

“That’s more like it.” Ren grins, placing one hand on top of the younger ones head, “Me, jun, and the others might give you some good company. Who knows, we can include some wome-”

“Ah,” Satoru cuts him off before he could finish that sentence, voice turning low and matching his smug grin. So this was where you got your blasé attitude about concubines and mistresses. It seemed like your cousin is a piece of shit and didn’t mind openly showing it, “I assure you that me and my wife will be together during the entire duration of the ceremony. We’re not fond of indulging ourselves in that.”

Your father’s gaze narrows down at his words, the rumors of Gojo Satoru being charmed by you wasn’t far-off. It seemed like you had done your best to have the shaman wrapped around your finger in the mean time, “It’ll be an honor to have you both at my son’s party.” your father nods, “Forgive my nephew, he seems to run his mouth too much.”

“Oh, no, no…” the shaman continues to present a cynical smile, “I just hope that your nephew doesn’t do the same to my wife, ya know? It’s really disrespectful. Not only are you disrespecting Y/N but you’re insulting me as well and we both know what’s to come with that…”

If this were to be a fight on asserting dominance, Satoru would win so easily and overpower them as he looks down upon these foul individuals. By how normalized they seem to toss women around, he could get why you didn’t seem to bat an eyelash at certain things.

“I’ll be sure to discipline him.” your father’s jaw clenched, the underlying threat evident in the six-eyed shaman’s tone. No playfulness detected, “Let’s go boys, we don’t want to waste anymore of this man’s time.”

Ren doesn’t even bother to say goodbye, mildly displeased by Gojo Satoru’s response because he didn’t seem as fun as the rumors came up to be while Jun, the younger one, still continues to carefully assess him like an unsolved rubik's cube, “Hm, seemed like lover boy didn’t like your joke.” he hears the teen mutter towards his older cousin.

Satoru stuffs his hands in his pockets, staring at where they used to stand. Only now does he notice how monstrous their cursed energy was, it seemed like whatever fertility the chosen women in your family had was no joke. Such inborn talent mixed with those rather unstable emotions and attitudes. He wonders just how you were able to survive that long and remain unfazed by it, normally women and men, even would run the opposite direction when faced with that.

It’s clear that you grew up in quite a mad house.

“Satoru?” a familiar voice calls out, snapping him out of his trance. His expression immediately softens when he finds you standing there, walking towards him.

“Y/N.”

“Are you alright?”

“Seen Megumi?” He's not exactly sure if he should tell you about the three assholes he had just met, he didn’t exactly want to dampen the mood that this week had created. He might as well even ignore the invitation because he didn’t want you anywhere near your old house. With their attitudes, it could only mean they were depressing to live with as well.

“I did,” you eyes flicker behind him, “But you…”

Satoru gives you a small smile, it seemed like he couldn’t hide it so easily from you, “I ran into your father and two of your cousins...” he paused, “...they seem to be a delectable bunch…” he rejoined in heavy irony.

He watches as your expression turns blank, the news not so much negatively affecting you, “My father? He’s back?”

“He invited us to your baby brother’s party as well, congratulations…” It seemed like a blessing for many but when he sees how you maintain a stoic expression, he knows something is amiss.

“It’s a concubine's child.” you haphazardly replied, “My okaasan can’t have children anymore.”

There's a tinge of awkwardness in the air when you nonchalantly let go of those words. Satoru admits that family dynamics weren’t a strong suit for him as well since he was raised by a wet nurse and old men growing up in a very empty estate, his father dying at quite the young age while his mother died a few days after childbirth.

“Is it bad?” you continued, turning towards him, the same gaze as your father stares upon him but unlike the old man’s expressionless one, there's more raw emotion to you now than before, “That I don’t feel bad for my mother despite that?”

“I guess not.” he admitted, “You never seemed close to them even during the wedding nor did you even shed a tear when he gave me your hand.”

Your lips part at his words, tone laced in amusement, “So you’ve noticed?”

“I guess it's good we both decided on not having children.” he laughs, trying to lighten up the air, “We didn’t exactly have the best models growing up.”

“Indeed.” you agreed, “A child in our world…” it’s rather peculiar to even think about a child between you and the shaman in front of you, with the world you were in right now especially with your tainted hands, you knew it truly was no place for a sweet and innocent baby to be in.

Your gaze remains fixated on Hana’s book as she reads to you out loud a child's tale, she stutters another word or so but she’s rather enthusiastic about the whole thing that you don’t mind giving her the time of your day.

Your husband had been out for the next few days or so, apparently Yuuji needed some far off training it’s pretty obvious that he loved throwing the young boy with him in minacious missions. You’re truly astounded by the way he seems to have no fear attached to it.

Satoru though, was hesitant on leaving but you told him that you’d be fine on your own. After making sure that you’d be fine and giving you Ieiri’s number in case you needed a check-up, he left you to your own devices and went on his merry way.

“...and she went up the tall heel-”

“Hill.” you politely corrected the young girl, clasping your hands together, leaning forward.

“Oh sorry,” she apologized, her cheeks turning a dark tinge of red when she looks up the book, “I...I got it wrong again…”

“It’s alright, you can pronounce the words better than last time.” You coolly replied, smiling at the progress that the young girl has made these past few days. She was quick to learn about the alphabet so it was easier for you to start teaching her using short children's stories. The girl hides half of her face underneath the book, curiosity written all over her face, “What’s wrong, Hana?” you indulge her.

“Nothing,” she giggles, her sloe-eyed gaze twinkling as she stares at your delicate features, “It’s just you and Gojo-sama… I remembered wishing for a man like him when I was younger…”

You placed your head on top of your palm, tilting to the side, “Why?”

It was a pure and genuine question. You recalled how many people seemed enthralled by it, although you didn’t exactly understand the reason why they were adamant about the whole thing, especially the women like Hana for example, “Have you never fallen in love before, Y/N-san?” she inquires, the question may seem out of bounds but you're used to the young girl's brash ways for she is young and had quite innocently wished for a pure love like those fairytale books your grandmother had tossed to you when you were a child.

“I don’t think I have…”

“But isn’t Gojo-sama in love with you?”

“What made you say that?” you almost wanted to let out a laugh. Apart from the fact that you were clueless in that department, you were truly sure that whatever he felt for you was far from romantic gestures, erratic heartbeats, and infatuation. Although you don’t assume and try to dissect him as much as before, you don’t seem to be the type of woman he’d be interested in. Add the fact that the shaman had openly stated that love was something he wasn’t exactly interested and be able to yield to.

In a shaman’s line of work, love had only brought pain and a curse. It’s why most shamans despite being married, chose to live in solitary and died alone as well.

She puts her book down, a smile on her face, “Well, he likes to look at you!” she simply simplified as if she was explaining something to a child, “Like you’re the only person in the world!”

“That’s absurd, Hana.” you let out a loud and rather unladylike laugh, “Are you sure no one has ever read a romance novel to you before?”

She shakes her head, maintaining her large beam, “No! Of course not! If I have to be honest, Y/N-san. whenever I see you and him together...you look fine and quite happy these days as well…” You quietly gaze upon the young girl when she truthfully remarks her observation, “Unlike before when I first came in, you seem better… If there's any man who could make you happy, I’m sure it would be him.” she adds.

“Is that a man you’d like then, Hana?” you shift the topic, not wanting to hear anymore of what the young girl had to say.

She shakes her head fervently in reply, much to your shock, “I’m going to have to be honest, Y/N-san. I’d like to work here...for life… if you and Gojo-sama ever had kids as well, I wouldn’t mind taking care of them and being their wet-nurse…”

“Wasn’t it part of your employee contract that I’d be helping you find a suitable partner?” You calmly expressed, the young girl shyly looked down at the folded hands on her lap.

“You treated me like family, Y/N-san. I think that’s what I’ve always been looking for.” she timidly conveyed, “So I don’t need to build one when I have a genuine one here.”

It was another guilty feeling added to your long list of people but this time, a small sad smile is on your lips. Hana had been truly something else since the beginning and to see her like this made you genuinely moved, “I see.” you lower your head in deep gratitude that she saw someone like you in that light, maybe this could spark a change, that you could finally shut your eyes and rest here, “I’ll be in your care, then.”

“It’s so dark.” Yuuji looks up, switching his phone’s flashlight on, “Don’t you guys keep more lights on?”

They both had returned from a few days training session out in the north and his sensei wasn’t exactly sneaky with the Jumangoku Manju he had brought back for you. A lot had technically changed in the young boys eyes, when he had first came here their was this prolonging and stifling air between the both of you, one that his sensei had confirmed when he tried to use him as a scapegoat a few days ago. Now, his sensei has been waking up much later these days and he has seen him coming out of your room every morning with a smile on his lips.

“It’s literally 1 am, Yuuji.” Satoru turns to him, his baby blues peek behind his shades, “Try to save the environment, will you?”

The young pink-haired squints his eyes at his sensei’s retaliation then shakes his head, “I’ll be going ahead to my room.” he mumbles.

The boy hasn’t told him about Sukuna and his keen interest on his wife, thankfully, the cursed had stopped pushing him after repeatedly flipping him off and telling him he could go suck a dick he didn’t take that part well, Yuuji ends up getting his arm ripped off while he was in Sukuna’s domain when he and the curse had a little talk in his dreams.

As the boy is about to enter his room, he feels his hair stand up to the end. A very unfamiliar negative energy radiates throughout the estate.

His grip suddenly tightens on the door knob, hands turning clammy at the sudden sensation of it. Even Sukuna, one who’d usually start babbling or expressing something when he’s fighting remained quiet as a mouse.

It’s then that he hears an ear-piercing yell from the hallways.

Yuuji is quick to run to where the sound is coming from, ready to pounce on whatever or whoever tried to break in but what he sees almost makes his stomach churn.

Because there you sat, clinging onto Satoru for dear life and tears streaming down your face while he has his hand wrapped around your body, holding onto the back of your head as he presses you closely to his chest to hide you from the scene that had unfolded in front of you.

“Yuuji...” Satoru gravely mumbled, gazing upon the young maid that laid on the floor, black eyes wide-open and boring onto the boy’s soul, cold and completely still, “Call Shoko... right now...”

taglist (had to remove ageless blogs sorry, i actually only noticed this now sike, if u wanna be back on the taglist, dont hesitate to send me a pm and tell me ur age <3)

;; @shokobuns ;; @aprosperlys ;; @menacanela ;; @shutuptenguu ;; @imuziawi ;; @senjuasuna ;; ;; @jjkdilfs ;; @kageyamakock ;; @pjofics ;; ;; @cowward ;; @tsumuuwu ;; @gojojogo ;; @fiona782 ;; @hinaamaya ;; @taihjj ;; @menacanela ;; @roione ;; @kgojo ;; @archonssun ;; @gyubit17 ;; @cupieyeri ;; @enesitamor ;; @lavandula-stuff ;; @yuutaokkutsu ;; @rogueofbullshit;; @kiyoojima ;; @yeolmae-ssi ;; @daiawritss ;; @cosmeti ;;

#gojo satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru #Jujutsu Kaisen #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jjk x reader #jjk x you #gojo x reader #jjk imagines #jjk angst #📝📝.minazuki mini series #tw.blood #tw.death #hostclub.adulting

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quirklessidiot · 3 years

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title : minazuki [10: hidden inventory arc] pairing : gojo satoru x f!y/n Genre: angst, arranged-marriage au, mystery/thriller, mature, enemies-to-lovers-ish, and very slow burn (canon compliant-ish for ch-0 to the anime)

Summary: In which Y/N L/N is placed under a union she has no choice but to partake for the sake of her survival.

Warnings: big spoilers for gojo’s past arc, major character death, and mentions of small insecurities notes: hsjsksakakakakakaka, help i loved this chapter @aprosperlys i remembered talking to u about this once, i hope u love it heheheeh

series masterlist || taglist closed ||

Chapter Summary: Although the memories haunted you, you’re more or less grateful that you see a familiar face again amidst the turmoil. Meanwhile, Satoru comes to a painful conclusion regarding what his place is in your life.

sometime in 2008

“You’re very pretty.”

Usually when people would say that to you, an automatic response would be to courteously smile their way despite the underlying tones of sexualization that came along with it. Growing up, hearing those words were nothing but a nuisance yet this time, there was something so innocent and bright about the compliment that when you look up to try and discern the person who had professed those words, you’re greeted by a pair of deep-set obsidian eyes, one that seemed to be filled with childish curiosity, “Thank you.” this time, your reaction comes out more genuine and unfeigned.

The boy seemed to be just around your age with silky black hair and a cherubic expression that fitted his facial features. One you’ll probably take note of and remember, for such features were unique and impossible to see in a world like this.

When you express your sincere thanks, his grin turns even bigger, “You’re very welcome! I was just seeing you sitting alone here and I was wondering why you weren’t with other students in the game!” the boy points out.

“Ah,” you chuckled, “It’s kind of complicated...They really don’t want me to get hurt…”

The raven-haired boy tilts his head at your response, “Well, I might accompany you. Kento told me not to join this year for the goodwill since I got stabbed pretty bad.” he gloated, crossing his arms, clearly dismayed at his current predicament.

“Sounds like this Kento is a very good and caring friend.”

“The best! He’s not as outgoing at Geto-senpai and Gojo-senpai but he’s the nicest! Always looking out for the smaller guys.” he grins when he hears you complimenting his best friend, continuing to babble on yet you don’t seem to mind hearing the praises that this boy has towards this ‘Kento’, “I’m Haibara by the way, Yu Haibara… but you can call me Yu, I have a feeling we will be seeing each other a lot in the next few days!”

“Yu…” his name rolls off your lips pretty smoothly like melted butter, “Nice to meet you, I’m Y/N...Y/N L/N…”

Yu Haibara was a rather bright individual, unlike you who paraded with false kindness and saw the world as a pandemonium, he was someone who looked at the world from a kaleidoscopic point of view. A unique perspective of this god-forsaken world that only delves in a lot of agony and suffering. The hour-long conversation was one of the best you’ve ever had with a stranger, you talk to him about the flowers that you grew in your home and the books you’ve read in your past time while he talks about his missions and foods that he’s able to eat in each city he visits. He had made you actually laugh and bear forth genuine emotions that made you wish to talk to him more in that moment.

There's a small inkling of hope that starts inside of you, one wherein you wished that you’d encounter more people like him.

“Yu!” someone calls out to him, voice deep and raspy as if he had smoked a few sticks once every few days. You look right to find a tall and lean blonde man, hair swept to the side with his gaze narrowed just as he walks towards the both of you. His brows are scrunched together in what seemed to be dismay, unlike his best friend, this man radiated the opposite energy. He looked anything but friendly, “What are you doing?” rather than asking you directly, he seemed as if he was scolding your new found friend like a mother hen.

“Ah, Y/N!” If his grin couldn’t turn even bigger, the sudden presence of the man sparked an even brighter aura around him, “This is Kento! The one I was talking to you about.”

“Hello,” You revert back to your usual demeanor at the sight of the new stranger, “I’m Y/N, Y/N L/N.”

Kento, unlike Yu, is stoic yet he does a brief bow as a sign of respect, “I’ve heard of you. Kyoto, right?”

“Yes.” you stiffly replied, the man's hostility towards you is clearly evident off the bat.

“I hope he didn’t disturb you-” he tries to reason out, clear that he wanted you anywhere but near Yu Haibara.

“Oh, he didn’t...he was very entertaining to talk to.”

“I told her about our recent mission in Sendai City!” The young man grins, recounting his story to his friend about your conversation, “She seemed amazed by it too! You should totally come with us one day, Y/N. We’ll bring you there with us! Kento and I are actually pretty strong!”

You fondly gaze as you hear the boy's beautiful and innocent crafted words. The excitement and rather ingenious attitude was something you envied for it was something amazing to see as you’ve only been exposed to negative milieus’ growing up.

Yu Haibara reminded you of heroes you’ve read in novels, ones who didn’t think twice but carried on despite the severity faced in front of them.

“I don’t think she’s allowed to come with us on missions, Yu or anywhere with us for that matter.” Nanami Kento pipes in, continuing to bore his copper-rustic eyes at you in a cautionary and disapproving manner, shoulders seemingly tense and clearly overstrung by his friend’s endless spirit of inquiry towards you. It’s a very obvious and known reaction that you’d elicit. It seemed that his friend must’ve known who you were.

“Why not?” His response makes Kento lick his dry lips as if he was restraining himself to say anything more in front of you. This makes you smile instead and shift your gaze to Yu.

“My family is just very protective, Yu.” you try to alleviate the awkward air formed between you three, trying to smooth out the invisible wrinkles in your uniform as if you were just fine. You didn’t want to stay any longer since you knew you brought some discomfort in the conversation. Boys around your age were either very bold to approach you or hesitant because of your standing in the bride market and how protective your family was of you.

It seemed like Yu was unaware of this, he must’ve grown up far away from the world of jujutsu, “I’ll be going ahead now, if you’d like I can help patch you up tomorrow so you can join the second day of the goodwill event. It’s the least I can do for providing me with some very enjoyable company.”

“Ah!” Yu pouts, turning to his blonde friend, turning comically stubborn because of his friend’s spiteful attitude towards you, “See what you did Kento, you scared her away! Stop scaring women away!”

Yet all you do is chuckle and wave goodbye. By the next day, you’re thinking that Yu would ask for your help or maybe even leave you be because you’re sure his friend had told him who you were but he ends up staying with you again and even forcing Kento to apologize to you for causing such uneasiness, “Well, I just feel like it’s kind of sad that you’d get left alone here.” He confessed right after his friend leaves, his brows scrunched together, “Kento was being mean too, I mean, you just looked too friendly to be left alone!”

He was affable and you wonder what made you this lucky to experience genuine kindness from a serendipitous meeting.

“Thanks, Yu.”

You try to discern him a bit more, wondering what he wanted and why he was doing all this despite the trouble but he remains relaxed next to you and unguarded, seemingly with no care about the future consequences, “What are you talking about? It’s nothing to be thankful for. It really sucks on your part.” he conferred, crinkling his nose in disgust as he judged the system out loud.

“Yeah,” You laughed out loud, agreeing with him, the honesty was something you could only bask upon, “It does.”

“When me and Kento get back to Sendai, we’ll be sure to buy you some Kikufuku mochi. The edamame and cream flavor is wonderful there.”

“You’ll send them all the way to Kyoto?” you blinked at the outlandish suggestion of the boy as if Kyoto and Tokyo were just next door neighbors and a few minutes away.

“Sure,” he grins, “I mean, we’re technically friends now right?”

A month past, you had indeed secretly received a rather bold but nonetheless cutely designed box containing Kikufuku mochi from Utahime, your senior, who said she had bumped into Yu and Kento on her way back from one of the districts. There's a postcard along with the words ‘see you soon!’

What small conversation you had with the boy and a promise of a random gift box, ends up igniting an unlikely friendship, with them coming by once every few weeks to your school in Kyoto.

Kento was annoyed at first that they have to travel this far and approach you secretly but Yu seemed more than ecstatic to see you along with a delicacy from their recent mission or at times, the same mochi from Sendai that you can’t get enough of because of how amazing it tasted. A small gesture that meant so much on your part since you were never allowed to indulge in these treats growing up.

“Aside from Sendai, where would you want us to take you, Y/N?” Yu suddenly asks out of the blue, this time, he brings you a piping hot bag of fast food since they didn’t find anything sweet or good in their last mission. The three of you are once again hiding in the fields, away from prying eyes.

This time, they were leaving for another mission with Geto Suguru and Gojo Satoru, something about a star plasma vessel being transported. Despite your plans to find out more about Satoru, your attention was more on Yu Haibara today. The young boy who had stolen your attention with his pure heart and earnestness.

“Anywhere sunny.” you take a bite of the greasy burger, the fat tasting quite funny but nevertheless good, “Far and sunny where there are no winters.”

“Hm, Indonesia would be good. Like Bali? I saw one on a pamphlet that said they have good beaches there.” Haibara retorted, turning to Kento, “How about you, Kento. Where do you think we should take, Y/N?”

Nanami Kento gradually warms up to you by the fourth meeting but it doesn’t stop the consistent wariness of these secret meetings that his friend wants to keep pulling off like he was Paris who had fallen for Helen in the Greek tragedy. A story that did not bode him any good favor in the end, “Malaysia.” he mutters, taking a bite of his fry, humoring his friend with a response, “Malaysia is beautiful.”

“Oh,” Haibara’s eyes double in size, “That’s right. You always said you wanted to go there!”

Time had always seemed to stop whenever you were with them, the youth that you envied and craved for as a child was now being given to you on a silver platter and it felt like something that came out of a manifested dream. One that you wanted to stay into and never wake up.

Yet it doesn’t stop the lingering feeling of apprehension, the chances of marrying Gojo Satoru was still very bleak for you and you don’t know how to force upon your engagement with him. The abrupt thought of never seeing Yu Haibara and the feeling that this will only be a memory in the future is something you dread.

These secret meetings continue to push forward but it doesn’t escape the eye of one of your guardians, the principal, who had suddenly called you in one day with an interesting query as to why there were sudden visits from kids in the Tokyo branch.

“They’re bold.” the older man points out, making you bite your tongue to hold yourself back from retaliating, “They should know that such filthy things aren’t to touch someone like you.”

“They’re not here for me.” You lie easily through a forced smile, “You know I’m not allowed to eat the things that they bring and talk too much to boys.”

“That’s right.” Gakuganji pondered, his gaze slowly drifting down on the tea you had prepared for him, “You’re meant for one man only, Y/N. Indulging yourself with boys like that too much...they bring you no good…”

“I know.” you affirmed, balling your fists and continuing on with a tight smile. The thought of not seeing Yu Haibara leaves a strained feeling on your chest, one that probably won’t ever go away.

A few months push on, you remain selfish and persist to see them despite the light warning. The raven-haired boy continues to swear to you that he and his partner will take you to Sendai soon and attend the Tanabata festival there something that Yu had described as very pretty and exhilarating along with actually eating other fresh goods and despite it continuously being impossible on your part. He even further proclaims that right after Sendai, he’ll take you to the beach that they went to during one of their missions. Apparently it was sunny and scorching there but the sand beneath your feet would be wonderful to experience along with the salty waters that washed over.

You continue to not say anything out loud for it’s a wonderful fantasy that deep inside your heart, you wish to come true.

You stare down at your hands, red marks from clenching them too much these days from holding back your tongue from those teachers who try to teach you how things are supposed to be and how you were going to fare around your future husband, “Y/N?” Haibara suddenly calls out.

It’s only the both of you this time, apparently Kento needed to go home to visit his grandfather at Denmark.

“You alright?” the boy’s mildly curious tone shifts to your hands, “What happened to those?”

“Bad habits.” You honestly admitted, covering them once again, “I like to clench them a lot when the teacher’s say something preposterous.” you continued, covering it off as a bad joke but Haibara has something else in mind when he sees those marks.

“Maybe you should just punch them in the face.” He suggested, gesturing a rather comical skit in front of you, his tone is laced with confidence and utter seriousness making you laugh out loud.

“They’d scold me right after, Yu.” you said amidst your joyous laugh, “But I’ll be sure to take your advice.”

“Good,” he nods, raising his thumb, “But give me a few minutes, Y/N. I’ll be right back.” your brows furrowed together as you quizzically nod at his out of character response. He runs back and leaves you alone with the freshly baked cookies he got for you from the nearby bakery.

It only takes around ten minutes for him to come back with a white plastic, your mouth twists to a lopsided grin, confused at his sudden disappearance and why he was rather out of breath, “What’s this for?” He takes a seat across from you under the shade of the tree.

“I got something for you.” he takes out a small cream and a stress ball from the white plastic bag as your lips part in admiration, “For your hand…”

“They get destroyed pretty easily but at least your nails won’t hurt you anymore…” he grins, holding out his palm to treat your red marks.

His rough fingertips against your soft warm ones is ticklish and it makes you let out a small giggle, “That tickles, Yu.” you look up, eyes on his bright and sparkling ones that don’t seem to ever lose their youth despite the things he’s probably seen when he’s been through those missions.

It’s silent between you two for a moment.

“I…” the boy is speechless, your pretty features, soft gaze that don’t ever seem to waver, and your warm hand on his is enough to make his heart thump erratically and his head turn hazy, he clears his throat, “Well, what do you think?”

It wasn’t the right time to ask you that yet.

“It’s beautiful.” you softly retort, your warm hand leaving, making Yu pull his hand back in a tight fist when you look down at your hands with a saccharine-coated smile that he’ll never get tired of looking at, “You’re amazing, Yu.” you look up.

No, you are. He wanted to say.

Although Yu Haibara is sure that he’ll remain nothing but a distant memory to you in the future. He’ll remember each of these youthful ones and treasure them closely in his heart.

Whoever gets to see those smiles, experience that wonderful attitude, hear your gentle and kind words everyday would be a lucky man.

“Of course, I am.” he exclaims instead, pointing to himself and proudly puffing out his chest in a playful manner, “I’m your best friend.”

The seasons change and you find yourself amidst the company of your two good friends once again.

“He likes you…” You watch as Yu runs to the nearby comfort room, this was one of their many visits and you were both in your second years by this time. It had been a few months since the star plasma vessel incident and the whole world was in turmoil. You, on the other hand, may have not given up on your plan but the foreboding dread that you may not be successful with it is present since they were already starting preparations for meetings with your future marriage prospects. You had to come home every weekend, the lessons were becoming harsher since they hired a private tutor for your bridal lessons thus seeing the pair was harder, “...By a milestone, Y/N.”

“Oh.”

A small innocent crush.

It was unheard of on your part.

Lust, sex, and everything in between that. The idea of a small innocent love was not one you expected at all. It made your heart swell when you thought of it, that someone out there had given you something you thought you did not deserved. It may have seemed distant and not reciprocated yet but a part of you felt very happy that someone actually saw you in that light. You look down at the usual mochi’s that Yu would go out of his way to get for you, your eyes suddenly covered in a dismal haze.

“He knows he has no chance, though but he tells me that he really wants to help you out.”

You feel your heart crack a bit at Kento’s confession about his friend, “That’s...” you muttered, “Very sweet of him…”

“We’ll be going on another mission soon.” he sighs, running his hand through his hair, shaking it just a bit simultaneously as he places one hand on his hip, “He’ll probably try to coax you into running away right after.”

“He knows he can’t do that, right?” You feel your heart mildly crack when you state the reality of your situation.

“Yu is kind, too kind and he always wants to help people out because he believes he can.” Nanami sighs, his forehead creasing at the sudden deep thoughts of his best friend, “I assume you’re going to reject him?”

“Of course…” you agreed, you know the consequences and you never wanted Yu to ever receive that. He was an angel in the world of devils, the only pure and untainted soul you’ve met and you wanted to keep it that way. Your greed and overflowing hunger ambition to live was something Yu didn’t deserve, “Of course…” you repeated.

Yet Yu Haibara isn’t able to ask you that question himself.

For the next time you hear about him, it’s Nanami Kento visiting you alone with that familiar designed box of Kikufuku mochis along with a few injuries littering his body. A part of you feels bilious when you see his swollen expression and more quiet demeanour, what contrasted Yu’s bright persona was simply now just a broken and empty shell of a man.

Death wasn’t kind.

Death is always cruel and one that follows you to the point of exhaustion.

It’s the hell bringer of dreams.

The enemy of life.

You feel your hand shaking as you hesitantly hold out your hand to take the box of your favorite mochi’s from him, “Is he sick?” you ask, not wanting to confirm your assumptions.

Nanami stuffs his hands in his pocket, the way he releases the next few words are as if he was carrying a heavy burden that needed to be released, “The mission was apparently for a grade 1. Yu and I weren’t fit for it.” He licks his dry lips, explaining it in simple terms as if he was tired of saying it again and again. He looks heavenward for a split second before he utters the next few words, “He’s gone, Y/N.”

Your grip on the box tightens when he says that, the unfamiliar feeling of sadness washing over you as you feel a lump stuck on your throat. Grief seemed different this time, unlike the death of your grandmother who you had quite the confusing relationship with growing up, the only thing you ever felt for Yu was total despondency and bleakness, “Oh,” you shakily try to keep your composure, not wanting to break down in front of Nanami Kento, “You didn’t have to come here, Kento.”

It’s silent for a moment between you two, the unsaid words are eating you up along with Kento’s eyes that are laced in anguish. A very small part of you just wanted to yell, cry out in complete vexation, and curse the gods above why they had to take someone like him away too early. A man who deserved to live much more and experience better things. A part of you also knew that the Gakuganji must’ve told your father about those meetings that he had caught wind of, it had their mark all over it, an accident no, a warning.

Stupid selfish girl you should’ve known better than to distance yourself from him.

Maybe they wouldn’t have sent him and Kento there.

Maybe Yu Haibara would’ve still been alive.

“I’m quitting, Y/N.” he confessed, his voice hollow, “That’s why I came here.”

“To say goodbye?”

There's another wave of silence between you two, the air of melancholy and low spirits surrounding you both as Kento adjusts his stuffy collar, trying to breathe before he says the next few words.

“No,” he denied, staring at you dead in the eye when he confidently utters the next few words, “I’m here to ask you to come with me.”

“Kento.” your eyes widen at his sudden and startling proposal. The sound of the clouds rumbles just when the small droplets of rain start to fall to the ground as if it was mourning the loss of an angel, “You…”

The wind turns cooler as the rain starts pouring heavier.

“He promised to take you away to some place where there are no winters and the only thing you’ll experience is sun. We could go to someplace like Malaysia, Y/N. Maybe Bali even. You can have your garden there, read your books, forget about your life here.” he proposed, clenching his fists tightly when he recalled Yu Haibara’s foolishness and how he was doing the same thing since he couldn’t seem to turn away from you because of the time and companionship you three had shared.

“Kento…” You repeat his name, your grip on the box tightens. The sound of going to Malaysia or Bali was beautiful, a far-fetched and a makeshift dream in your head that you wanted to run and blissfully experience but that was all it would ever be, a dream, “You know I can’t come with you…We talked about this before...”

“I know.” He sighed heavily, the burden evident in his tone. The sound of rain can only be heard alongside his voice, “I just...As much… as much as I want to hate you for what happened. I can’t...because he thought of you a lot until the end, Y/N… If I can at least get you out of this situation-”

“You’ll be killed.” you finish his sentence for him, trying to maintain yourself and splashing him with the cold reality of his consequences. He should know better than to offer this to you. You feel your mouth twist to a lopsided and sad smile, trying to stay strong on the spot. You’ll miss them, you’ll miss the kindness and warmth they provided you when you felt no one was by your side in this world.

And although you wanted to get out, leave this life, and be your usual tactless self, you couldn’t keep forcing this idealistic dream anymore. You had to wake up and face the uncharted dread of your life.

In the end though, your grandmother was right. You were weak when you gave your heart out, “I can’t keep being selfish anymore. I’ll be alright Kento, I’ll be okay.”

“I see.” he remarked, looking at the box briefly, a memory that cements itself to the core, “I can’t force you then, Y/N.”

Hesitantly, you hold out one hand and place it on his upper arm, softly gripping it. It’s the only comfort you could give since you knew how much pain he probably was in, “Thank you for offering. I hope you’ll find only happiness now wherever you go.” you wished, The blonde man takes a hold of your wrist and squeezes it gently to give you some solace for the tears you both can’t even shed anymore.

After Yu’s death and when Nanami Kento leaves, you feel a small part of yourself disappearing. It may have been a good memory of your youth but it was still a heart-rending thing to remember. One that brought forth unbearable ache.

You never hear from Kento after that day either, aside from the usual strict measures that you weren’t allowed male visitors in your home along with your phone calls being closely monitored, He had probably dealt with so much pain that maybe even the thought of talking to you, someone his partner admired too much, brought unbearable woe on his part.

So you forget him and the youthful memory of Yu Haibara, only carrying a small fragment of broken promises and unsaid goodbyes.

When people talk about long standing friendships and how time was one of its major deterrents, you would usually deny such factors for even if it had been years since you had last seen Nanami Kento, you can’t disregard the memories you three had shared and you wouldn’t even call your relationship any less. Even if he had chosen to actually hold onto his grudge that day. You couldn’t snub how he pushed forward and continued his proposal to help your current predicament despite it being seemingly impossible on his end.

In your eyes, Kento and Yu are probably one of the reasons why you weren’t as agitated with how the world had worked around you. They probably had been the reason why you believed that there was some sort of good out there for people like you to experience despite it seemingly looking bleak.

So when he’s right in front of you, you feel as if you’re sixteen again, hidden out of sight from Gakuganji and his prying eyes. You don’t even hesitate to hug him. For whenever your mind would loom back to the promises and dreams that they shared with you, a young girl who was stuck in what seemed to be like perdition on earth, you’d end up being in good spirits.

“You’re back.” you blurted out loud, letting go of him. Unlike before when you were teenagers, he seemed more muscular, taller, along with a few fine lines that seemed to compliment him well. The side-swept hair that Yu would usually tease about when you were younger was now replaced by a clean undercut. Albeit he maintained the straightlaced and quiet demeanour, he seemed wiser than the last time. Time had been truly kind to him.

“I had to see if you were doing alright first.” he handed you the box, his voice was smoother and warmer, like the freshly baked cookies they’d sneak in for you from that nearby bakery in Kyoto, “It seemed right to give this to you when the last time I did, it wasn’t good news.”

You looked down at the box, tracing it’s familiar design before gazing upon his deceptively soft tan eyes, “You must’ve heard then?” you asked, your tone is clipped and rather inexplicable since you’re unsure of his reaction. After all, he was rather protective of his best friend and only wanted him to be happy back then so seeing you married with their senpai must’ve garnered a different reaction.

Yet Kento’s reaction is the opposite of what you’d expect. His lips curve to a small smile. There's only relief and appreciation for where you stood at this moment, that last conversation you both had shared was more so depressing and he was frankly overwrought with different scenarios playing in his mind after he had left you that day.

He places one hand on top of your head, an action that seemed to look like a brother giving his sister some well-wishes, “Yu would’ve been more than happy if he had heard that you ended up with Gojo-san. Even if it would hurt him, he probably wouldn’t hesitate to be one of the groomsmen in your wedding. When Shoko-san had told me the news I let out a sigh of relief, as well…” he paused, recalling Shoko Ieiri’s words when he had asked about your current status and how you were doing, “You were right, Y/N. It seemed like you’d be okay, after all.”

You let out a loud, boisterous laugh, “Yes, it...it worked out in my end, Kento. I...I’m very lucky that I ended up with Satoru out of all people…” it seemed like he remained worried for you during those years you were apart from each other and it made you extremely elated that he didn’t hold onto that resentment after all.

“He’s lucky to have you as well.” he places his hand down, “I’m truly glad it worked out for you in the end.”

There were probably twenty or so scenarios that ran through your head in the moment, one of them being if you had agreed upon his idea that day but seeing where you both stood now, alive and well, you were glad that you didn’t choose to follow the usual direction you’d take in.

For although the road ahead was weary during those seven years, everything seemed to have worked out for both of you in the end.

You tried to invite him for dinner right after but he had feverishly denied you, explaining that it wasn’t needed, “I had met with an elder after I got reinstated…” he shaked his head, shoulders sunken, “They still think I might take you away but seeing how things are now, I’m right to assume that you’re fine?”

You shake your head at his aphorism. There was a small hint of doubt as if he was telling you that if there was any problem, he still wouldn’t hesitate to go on with his proposition when you were both teenagers yet when the smile on your lips doesn’t even cease, he knows things are alright and he doesn’t need to worry at all, “I’m...I’m more than okay…” you confidently remarked.

Nanami Kento is more than happy when you reassured him again that you were completely fine and he was more than jovial to receive and accept another hug from you, “Thank you, Kento.” you mumbled, “I don’t think I could’ve made it this far if it weren’t for you both.”

It’s only later that night when Gojo Satoru comes home that he finds a small package on the table. His brow upturned as he took off his eyewear, moving the box to the side when he found it on display at the counter, “Whose this from?” He asked, the design looked rather audacious and appealing to the eyes.

You turn to him, a hand on your hip and a spatula on the other, “Oh,” he watches the way you easily smiled, “It’s from Kento.” you nonchalantly replied to your husband, your (e/c) eyes boring on his without a least bit of consternation, “He came by a while ago.” you added before returning to the stove and flipping the meat to the side.

The only sound in the air is the sizzling of meat and your soft humming. He, on the other hand, remained still for a moment. Eyes never leaving the box or better yet the fact that it contained something you had enjoyed eating. In the eyes of a stranger, it may perhaps seem like it came from a lover or something along the lines of that.

Your husband leans against the counter just as he starts picturing different scenarios of what went on a while ago while you remained completely indifferent about your recent revelation, “Kento?” he wryly repeated, finally breaking the silence. He had heard that Nanami Kento was back on field as a sorcerer and although he was aware of the rumors from Ieiri, why would he visit you immediately?

It’s the way you turn to him and look him in the eye along with the way that your affable smile easily decorates your features as if Nanami Kento out of all people had been the reason behind it.

“Yeah,” you repeated, “Nanami Kento. I’m sure you know him.” maybe it’s the way that your attitude took a three hundred sixty degree turn when you mentioned him, something Satoru had never experienced first hand when you talked about the opposite sex, heck, most of the times you remained impassive around him as if you were still hesitant to act around him.

Yet the problem seemed to have lied with your current stance or tender heart towards Nanami and how you didn’t even put an effort to conceal it. There was just that unfamiliar hankering attitude that seemed to only have surfaced now when he was with you, that slimy little green monster that only seems to want those warm and fond looks directed to him only. It’s one that he didn’t know he could experience towards an individual.

Of course, Megumi was a whole new different subject but this was Nanami. Someone who knew you first, someone who you had an apparent past with.

“Oh,” he chews the inside of his cheek, nodding, pretending that it wasn’t poking on his nerves, “Right, I know Nanami Kento.” his tone came out rather bitter and gruff that your attention returns to your husband. Expression contorting to an extremely quizzical one at his anomalous attitude.

You lowered the fire and placed a lid on top of the frying pan, walking closer to him, “What’s wrong?” you inquired. The abrupt switch of character was something you had to take note of. For the past months or so, Satoru has been nothing but a decent companion, making you feel comfortable and safe well, at least, in your perspective that is.

“Nothing.” he coolly replied, “Just find it funny that he had other friends.”

There was something so out of place with the sudden childish jab. You recalled that he and Kento weren’t on bad terms, at least from your memory that is. Although the blonde man had confided to you and Yu about how much of a pain in the neck your husband was back when you were younger, it wasn’t so much to make them on opposite ends of the spectrum. Satoru respected him for his technique and his power, it also earned him a good spot on the small list of your husband’s good ‘acquaintance’ list back then, “Do you have a problem with Kento?” you ask, tilting your head to the side, arms crossed and lips set in a hard line, wanting to hear the reason as to why he was starting to act like a man-child.

“No,” he shakes his head fervently, lips twisting to a forced smile, “Of course not, why would I have a problem with Kento?”

It had probably been the Monday blues or the neverending paperwork that had gotten in over his head like a buzzing fly. Still, it’s quite bizarre how easy it would be for him to end up with that utterance since you knew your husband wasn’t so easily neurotic by those things. In the end, you chose to ignore such comebacks. If he had a problem, he could outwardly communicate it with you like a proper adult, “That’s good,” you raise one hand and give his arm a gentle squeeze before returning to the stovetop, “It’s nice to see you don’t dislike him. I’m planning on inviting him for dinner soon anyways.”

Satoru’s eyes double in size at your statement, eyes never leaving your figure, “Dinner?”

“Well,” you continue on with your cooking, turning a deaf ear to his tone, “It’s no problem for you as you stated, right? We’re all good friends. I haven’t seen him for years.”

Satoru parts his lips for a moment, licking his dry lips and poking his tongue to the side of his cheek, “Right, years.” he quips, repeating your words. He ponders if he should just bring up the matter because what’s wrong with being a little curious? He’s the husband, he could ask about those sorts of stuff, right? But then again, he shouldn’t be bothered by it. At the end of the day, it’s not exactly his business if you and Kento had some past love affair or something along the lines of that.

He shouldn’t even be perturbed because it’s not like he had anything past this weird friendship that you guys had sort of form for these past few months, right? You were simply just married on paper, anything beyond that shouldn’t be his concern.

“You’re acting strange, Satoru.” You blatantly point out, his gibe remarks finally getting under your skin. You turn off the stove and wipe your hands on the towelette before tossing it to the side, “Is work, alright?” you finally inquire.

“Perfectly fine,” the shaman feels as if he’s being smothered by a pillow, his words tumbling out in choked-up confidence. He should probably direct his words to Nanami instead. Maybe he could drop a hint or two about how unmanly of him it was to just send someone’s wife a box that looked like a gift from a lover, “I think I might skip dinner tonight, Y/N.”

“Oh…” your brows furrowed together, looking down at the dish you prepared for him especially since you knew he came from a meeting with an elder earlier today and you wanted to make him feel a bit better, “...Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” he nods, snatching the blindfold off the table and walking towards the stairs, “Bad appetite, something must’ve spoiled it.” he says through clenched teeth.

“Oh, then would you like me to-”

Before you could finish your sentence though, he’s already trudging his way up the stairs, not even bothering to listen to you or your suggestion. You tilt your head to the side and turn towards the meal you prepared for him, “That’s odd.” you muttered to yourself, “Maybe the meeting had gone bad?” you might as well pack some leftovers for him for tomorrow.

By the next morning though, the bed next to you is cold as if your partner had woken up earlier which was certainly perplexing because for one; Satoru had always stayed in a bit later unlike before and would actually join you for breakfast. He had also been odd the whole entire time last night since he had his back on you when usually he’d be the one to initiate contact.

You place your hand on his side of the bed, wondering just what the hell was going on with your husband and why he had suddenly been acting up like this. You might as well call Kento for a good hearty lunch alongside some afternoon tea, you couldn’t really wait to show him what you’ve been planting since you remembered that he seemed quite interested in botany -- Yu was just happy to be part of the conversation, something you found very adorable --- back when you were students.

Satoru rubs the nape of his neck in sheer frustration as he stares at the mangled body of the grade one curse in front of him, it’s blood staining a part of his clothes as well because he wanted to get a little physical today.

The thought is still constantly probing on his head like an open ended book, one that he couldn’t figure out, what made it even more vexing was the way you were so nonchalant about it as if what you and ‘Kento’ were doing was a normal thing.

“Very subtle of you...” he muttered to himself, turning away from the dead curse. A part of him wanted to go overtime since it was a friday night anyways and he didn’t want you to see him in this state. He’s pretty sure that he’s left you puzzled because of how he acted last night and this morning and he doesn’t want anything horrid to escape his tongue if you ever brought up ‘Kento’s’ name again.

He ends up in front of the school yard, ready to head into Ieiri’s office but he stops in his tracks to find none other than the problematic man himself, Nanami Kento, standing there. His lips pressed to a thin line when he found the tall blonde man staring at his phone as if he was texting someone important and it took a lot of guts for Satoru to not just march up there and seize it from his fingers to check if you had given him your phone number.

“Gojo-san?” Nanami Kento has always been unsettlingly calm and collected since he had first met him back when he was a freshman, the abrupt decision of leaving the world of jujutsu sorcery had been a decision that Satoru hadn’t expected as well because he didn’t think that the death of his partner would affect him to that certain degree.

“Nanamin…” he tries to poke out a smile, “Aren’t you looking fine and dandy?” it comes off as a bit too cheery for his tastes but he has to maintain his cool. He won’t be able to get some answers out if he’d start yelling at his kohai’s face.

“So I've been told.”

“I saw what you gave my wife yesterday…” he tries to prod, “That’s very nice of you…”

Kento’s eyes narrowed at his retort, not exactly sure what he should reply to Gojo Satoru. You had simply told him yesterday how lucky you were regarding the whole arrangement, did that mean that you had fallen for each other? Or was it simply just mutual respect?

He’d be quite happy if you had found someone you cherished, you had truly deserved to receive such things after what you had gone through those years. Although it was truly a shame that you and Haibara hadn’t ended up together in his eyes, he was sure that with more time and if you had more free will, you probably would have ended up with him. He’s even more sure that if his friend had made it out alive and had asked you the question of running away together himself, face to face --rather than Kento outing him before that dreadful mission-- you wouldn’t hesitate to have said yes straight-away despite it sounding absurd. You were just as reckless as Yu Haibara when the situation called for it.

It was a very deep bond of friendship that would’ve turned out to be lovers if fate hadn’t gotten in the way.

Yet he’s more or less happy that through this engagement, you ended up with a more or less suitable man. Although Gojo Satoru may have some sort of individuality complex, he knew his boundaries and respected them. Something Kento found favorable if you had to choose an arranged partner.

“I did,” Kento agreed instead, “I had to see Y/N and congratulate her. It seemed proper as a friend.”

“Congratulate?”

“Because she married you.” Kento simply retorted as if he was stating the obvious reason, “Weren’t her prospects horrible before? I was quite worried she’d end up with the man who was old enough to be her father.”

There's stifling silence in the air for a brief moment as Satoru takes in his words. There is no hint of love or longing in the blonde man’s tone. Although Nanami did sound like he had cared, it came out more like a sibling judging his younger one’s choices but how come the uneasy feeling won’t seem to go away?

Satoru stuffs his hands in his pockets, continuing to stare at the man with narrowed eyes behind his blindfold, “She seemed to talk rather fondly of you.” He tried to pry, finding the right words to say to get rid of that detesting feeling. It felt like he had an itch that he wanted to be relieved of but despite the repeated scratching to the point of it bleeding, it was still there.

“I hope she did.” Kento's voice turned quite distant, recalling that far off memory of you under that rainy day. It was technically true that he wanted to hate you, probably even curse and call you out for being a selfish bitch who couldn’t leave his friend alone but in the end, he didn’t have the heart to do that because Yu Haibara probably wouldn’t have stopped seeing you despite the repercussions and knowing his end, “She and I weren’t exactly on good terms when I left her.”

Satoru’s lips press to a thin line, he wonders what that entailed and as he’s about to ask more, Kento looks down on his phone, “Your wife invited me for lunch this Saturday. I guess we’ll be seeing each other more.” he raises the device.

“You don’t…” the white-haired shaman suddenly paused, unsure how to word it, “...The box...it’s kind of a weird design…”

Kento’s brow raised at the sudden question, had you not told him about what had happened before? Well, it’s clearly not his place to tell the whole story, “Yu would usually bring the same package before, I thought it would be nostalgic to just do that as well.” he simply divulged, “But it’s not something you should concern yourself with, we were all just friends.” he quickly assures the older fellow, not wanting it to be the cause of any rift.

The tall shaman is left alone with more tangled thoughts because despite his kohai’s words, he feels more sick in the stomach.

When Satoru comes home later that night, in a much later hour, mind you, he finds a Tupperware with a sticky note of, ‘Didn’t know if you had dinner, here you go.’ on the table. The words of Nanami Kento from earlier had continued to overwhelm him like a tsunami wave about to hit a city without a warning.

He leans on the counter top for a second and gulps down his surroundings, the aesthetically pleasing garden from the window to the large picture frame of the both of you in Sendai, the beautiful smile decorating your features.

He shuts his eyes tight for a brief second, trying to cancel out his uncharacteristic thoughts.

Most times, he’d like to think that the worst place he could ever be in was the darkness and silence. It only meant thinking and being in his own head, alone.

Gojo Satoru hated these moments. It probably had started after Geto Suguru had decided to just leave him without so much of a warning a man he had more or less likely considered family and his only close confidant when he had grown up alone all those years in the large estate. It usually was thoughts that tended to be a lot of what-if situations and scenarios of things he didn’t want to think about.

It usually leads him to hold back things he wanted to ask because he doesn’t want everything to go back to square one.

“Ah,” he mumbled, looking down at his feet, “So this is what it feels like…” he paused, “...it’s fucking horrible…”

Gojo Satoru never feared a lot of things but the idea of losing you, even if you were just looking the other way from him makes him grow numb.

He slowly makes his way to your shared bedroom, you’re sound asleep and hugging his pillow as your soft breathing is the only thing he hears but his mind still won’t shut up. A part of him just wants to hold you tightly because he knows whatever thing is growing on his chest won’t be reciprocated and he can’t ever force you to look at him the same way.

The realization of him being a man who apparently had everything at that moment seemed like a broken mirage because of the abrupt realization that he could probably never have you in his arms.

You probably should have just canceled lunch with Kento as soon as you had woken up. Not only was Satoru still in a horrible mood but he seemed like he wanted to be anywhere but his own home that day. It’s quite disheartening to even see your husband like this because you had actually thought that your relationship had turned out for the better following that time you both had spent.

After having a rather quiet breakfast, he says that he won’t be with you for the luncheon with Kento, saying something about how he had work and Yuuji training to do before he hands him over to your friend for some personal training soon so you end up staring at the wagyu beef in front of you, brows furrowed as you clench on the oven mitts tightly.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Kento had come in a bit earlier than intended and brought some housewarming gift to compliment the place a pretty vase that you’re sure you could use for some decoration.

“What makes you think I have any?” you stated, taking the mitts and placing it on the side.

“Back when we were teenagers you used to hold onto things a bit too tightly.” he outwardly pointed out, “Yu bought you a stress ball for that, I recalled.”

You licked your dry lips and let out a long sigh, “He did.” you paused, you recalled your teacher throwing it out when she found it hidden and saying how tacky it looked, you were this close to throwing her out of your living room after she had done that, “He was something else, wasn’t he?”

Your mind looms back to those onyx-colored eyes that would only look at you with friendliness and gaiety, innocent cherubic features that one would never forget, and that funny bowl cut that you’d often laugh but playfully braid when it got too long, “I think your husband is jealous of him.” Kento finally utters, picking out the invisible lint on his pants. There is silence looming between the both of you as he states something absurd.

There's a chuckle escaping your lips as he states that.

“Don’t be stupid. He doesn’t even know Yu and I were good friends..”

“He does now…” your gaze narrows at his words, he must’ve accidentally had told him, “Also I’m not the one who remains oblivious to a man’s feelings.” he retaliates, raising his brow at your impervious attitude that still seems to be something you brought with you since you were a teenager, “Are you truly unaware of that?” he continued, taking a sip of his cold iced tea as his tawny gaze doesn’t leave you for a second.

It was probably the same as that time before, how despite it was painstakingly obvious that Yu Haibara had held strong emotions for you, you brushed it off, thinking it was impossible for a man like him to love you, only when Kento had openly pointed it out and stated the obvious did you realize it clearly.

He was doing the same thing now.

“How many times do I have to tell everyone that it’s not that way?”

“Probably because everyone has it figured out except you both.” He smoothly retaliates, “Then again, he probably has now but it would be nice for you to freely fall in love. It’s what you deserve.”

The small ding of the oven snaps you back to the realisms of the situation, the words of Kento cementing itself in your head and drilled into you like the lessons that they’d teach you as a child. It seemed quite absurd to even think about it, honestly. You weren’t the type of woman that Satoru would be entranced with, more or less fall for.

It didn’t seem right, it didn’t even add up. You? Fall for a man who was too good for you? You weren’t that shameless to do so.

You grab the mitts and take the Matcha swiss roll out of the oven, the sweet scent overpowering the smell of meat.

“I don’t think that sounds right.” you confessed, Satoru and you were like two parallel lines who’d never meet. The differences between attitudes were far too great and you’re likely sure that you’d need to save yourself from the heartbreak because if he had ever found out about those things that you did, you’re pretty sure he’d be conflicted and he’d leave and who else would be there to pick up everything but yourself?

“The mind tends to think of a lot of things.” he advised, calmly and placidly gazing upon you, not even faltering for a second like he always does, “But you’d surprise to see that in the end, it’s all just in there.” he motions and extends his index finger to point at his temple, “If you’re ready, you can always tell him how you truly feel. Gojo-san has lost someone dear to him before, I doubt he’d want to commit the same mistake when it comes to you again.”

“Always the wise one, are you, Kento?” You shake your head, trying to shift the touchy subject when you place the steak and vegetables in front of him and take a seat across from him.

“I just don’t want you to regret anything in the end.” he mindfully remarks, knowing that emotion all too well, “You should be like Yu sometimes, take those risks.” he adds.

“I wish I could be just as fearless.” you laughed, the memory of the boy smiling upon you and giving you his world had been truly haunting to think about because in the end, the only thing you brought him was pain.

The day continues to push on. After having some afternoon tea with Kento which was entirely fun since his rather dry comedy still hasn’t seemed to change alongside his witty one-liner remarks. The man had told you about what had happened when he worked under a shitty corporation and tells you about the absurd people he has met. You, on the other hand, had told him about what had happened after he had left and how Satoru was as a husband.

Kento is positive at that moment that you were truly in good hands by the way you had fondly exclaimed and told him how your married life has been nothing but an astonishing one, although you don’t mention Satoru’s sudden shift of attitude these past few days.

As your best friend is ready to leave, he stops in front of the photo frame that’s hanging, one of you and Satoru, “That’s a beautiful picture.” He takes it from the table, “It seems like you’re able to freely go and travel now as well…”

Your lips twist to a smile, “He took me to the Tanabata.”

Kento’s eyes turned slightly wide, “Did he?”

“Yu was right, it looked pretty.” you recalled the day had been simply magical when you were with your husband. It probably was also because you enjoyed Satoru’s company the whole time since he knew just the right things to say and do during that time. It would truly be something that

“He was supposed to take you there to confess…” Kento puts the photo frame down, turning to you, “Elaborate plan and all that.” he winks, recalling how the young raven-haired boy had confided in him of his wishes to just take you there so that he’d confess his feelings and even if he knew you’d reject him, he’d still take you around for a good time because he knew you deserved to experience such things in this life.

“Was he?” a new voice suddenly enters the conversation. Your attention turns to find your husband standing there, cerulean blue eyes calmly looking towards you and Nanami Kento. Satoru hadn’t exactly made his presence known when he found you two relishing on the memories of that picture.

Clearly, he had heard about the private conversation you two had shared.

“Oh, Satoru…” you try to smile, excited that he’s here earlier than the last few days but you remain on the spot when you detect the unchanged inscrutable and odd expression, “...I think you should go, Kento…” you whispered, tugging his sleeve, “I’ll walk you out…” Kento was about to say something to ease out the situation but you give him a look instead, “I’ll handle it, come on…” you mumble, loud enough for only him to hear.

Your lips are pressed to a thin line when you take your friend out, Kento is mildly worried that he may or may not have started a dispute between the both of you but you assure him that you’ll solve such things quickly. There wasn’t anything to be mad about after all.

When you return inside, you find him pointedly gazing upon the photograph, there's silence lingering in the air at first and it’s one that you’re all too familiar with, usually when you’d have altercations with Satoru back then, it was the same thing but this time, instead of openly snide remarks, it’s different.

“Were you ever going to tell me about him?” Satoru breaks the silence, putting the frame down. The soft gaze is now replaced by an unsettlingly calm one as if a storm was brewing behind those azure blue eyes.

“There's nothing to talk-”

“Of course, there isn’t.” he laughs, one that’s filled with contempt and mild disdain, “That’s always the thing, isn’t it?”

Satoru feels his throat burning as he openly lets go of his words, the idea has been bothering him to the point where he can’t even look at you anymore. When he had heard Nanami talk about Haibara’s promise to you, he inwardly felt sick, “Who was he to you, Y/N?” he walked closer, “Am I just some cheap second rate replacement for your dead ex-boyfriend?” he spits out.

“Satoru.” you quickly try to calm him down, not wanting for him to get caught on with the wrong idea for there was never a time that you had compared him with your friend, “That’s not how it goes...There was nothing that went on between him and I that time…”

“Was there?” Satoru’s voice remains distant, “You know you can’t lie to me, Y/N. I saw that look when we were on that trip… the way you longingly gaze upon the crowds as if you were looking for someone else…” he bitterly snaps back, the memory of you staring off at a distance when you were at the festival and the time you had went there the first time was more than enough to trigger the painful emotion hidden deep beneath the cinders of his heart, “You were thinking of him the whole time.”

“Satoru.” you state his name, trying to snap him out of it, “You and I both know that I went there because it was something that I wanted to do, I went there and was happy with you-”

“Don’t give me that shit, Y/N.” he retaliates, eyes filled with jealousy at the notion that whatever you were doing right now to him was just you projecting your past feelings for a boy you could only selfishly pursued and in the end, couldn’t save.

He is second.

He’ll always be second.

No matter what he does, no matter if he gave you the world.

You’ll never have that same vehemence and it makes him hate himself for it for there was nothing ever truly more painful when he realizes that everything felt like a sick and twisted lie.

He suddenly lets out a low laugh, turning away, runs his hands through his hair roughly as his feet heavily distances himself from you, “Tell me, Y/N…” his voice is low, resentful, and broken because never in his life had he been slapped by the reality such as this, “If he was still alive and he had appeared on that door instead of Nanami Kento, asking you to run away, would you have said yes?”

Your knees feel weak and you feel some of the words stuck on your constricted throat. The way he doesn’t hesitate to throw that question out there makes your heart beat erratically, “Of course not.” you shakily reach out to your husband but his apathetic and feverish gaze makes the anxiety fill you to the bones that you pull it back.

“You would’ve left me.” he states, something that he should probably slowly accept as a normal thing in his life, “I can’t believe I’m falling hard for a woman who wouldn’t hesitate to leave me for another man.”

There's only silence with the sudden revelation is let out in the solitude of the room. His confession came out as if he was only deeply regretful about his feelings.

Your husband doesn’t know what else to say at that moment because all he feels is his heart being torn out of his body.

#Jujutsu Kaisen #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen gojo #gojo saturo x reader #saturo x y/n #📝📝.minazuki mini series #hostclub.adulting

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quirklessidiot · 3 years

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title : minazuki [11: insecurities] pairing : gojo satoru x f!y/n Genre: angst, arranged-marriage au, mystery/thriller, mature, enemies-to-lovers-ish, and very slow burn (canon compliant-ish for ch-0 to the anime)

Summary: In which Y/N L/N is placed under a union she has no choice but to partake for the sake of her survival.

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, smut (hair-pulling, edging, mentions of knife-play, humiliation), mentions of still borns, mentions of second infertility, mentions of child neglect, misogyny, MILD MANGA SPOILERS notes: hahaha :”) sorry. see on saturday or sunday :) i cant believe im starting uni next week and im almost done drafting this story let me just *cries*

series masterlist || taglist closed ||

Chapter Summary: The distance seems so far apart and although you should be happy, you feel conflicted for feelings are anything but clean.

2 years earlier, 2016

Gojo Satoru hates alcohol.

The pungent smell reeks. It’s enough to make him quell in disgust and turn green even without a single drop. Geto and Ieiri would often tease him about it but nevertheless, they still take him to the Izakaya nearby the school when they’re all legal enough to drink well, they drank. Satoru just sat around to munch on some Otsumami and grab an ice cream at the nearby convenience store after his friends got shit-faced drunk and could barely walk anymore. He was more or less the designated driver and responsible friend in those moments since he was never fond of those drinks.

In spite of him recoiling in disgust towards it though, he likes to come back here whenever he wants to be pulled away from the burdens of being the world’s strongest shaman and the head of the Gojo family. It’s probably due to the nostalgic feeling of a worry-free youth that had him coming back. He invites Ieiri to come by but she ends up yelling at him on the phone and cursing him for trying to pry her away from her day-off.

So it ends with the shaman sitting alone, drinking a sweet drink, one that’s not even laced with alcohol at all. The owner, an old man who was well into his sixties by now and went by the name Asahi, had become a friend of sorts since they had gone way back and he had unknowingly become a regular here. Oftentimes, he’d check up and ask about the other two but how was Satoru even supposed to explain that one of them had become a mass-murderer?

“Satoru-san.” the older man serves him his snacks, “Here’s your usual...Alone again?”

Gojo Satoru peeks through his dark sunglasses, “Of course, I am. Busy day for those other two.” he winks, jokingly, entertaining him. Asahi used to have his wife next to him back when they were younger yet she had recently passed away due to a stroke, leaving him to run the establishment by himself.

“Oh?” he nods, “A doctor...and a monk, was it?” placing his hand on top of his chin, scratching it as he tries to recall what the young man had shared.

“Yeah.” It’s odd to even picture how Suguru Geto was doing these days. He wonders what it was like to lead such a huge following behind you and how different he seemed from then and now, his comrade, best friend, one who had seen the world in black and white, had started another mission. One where Satoru knew he’d never be saved from, “Pretty busy. Sadly, it’s just me again.”

“Such a loyal customer.” he quipped, it was a pretty slow night since it was the middle of the week. The only other customers were three other women who had one too many drinks since one of them had gotten fired, “And might I add, that’s a very beautiful woman. Anyone important?” he pointedly looked down at the wooden table.

Satoru stares at his side, there laid a picture of you on top of a brown envelope, it was probably a portrait taken of you to be passed around since you were wearing a traditional silk kimono, your timid and compelling gaze paired with your smile seemed sweet and rather bashful, if he may add.

One of the elders of the clan had given it to him in preparation for your meeting next week. He said something along the lines of it being customary and that he needed to know what his future bride looked like.

The shaman has been staring at your picture for a while, trying to discern you and list off first impressions in his head. The first thing he had come up with was that you were a wall-flower and you seemed like a sheltered girl because of the description that the elder had recounted. Apparently, you were from the Kyoto prefecture and you hadn’t done a lot of field work since you were sheltered and you weren’t suited to be out on field yet unlike Shoko Ieiri who is able to use her technique in the long hours, you apparently had a low limit and had only been promoted to grade 3 because of your last name.

“...I’m marrying her.” he simply settled, taking the picture and carefully tucking it back in the folder. It was a final decision by the looks of it already. Sealed and paid full in cash along with the stamp of approval from the Gojo family.

“She’s a very beautiful woman.” he repeats, eyeing him carefully, trying to observe his features, “Arrangement?” he tilts his head lightly to the side, it was a pretty common affair in japan to have arranged marriages if the child was from a good family.

“Sorta like that.”

He doesn’t deny the older man’s words because he’s not blind. You are pretty, probably one of the most beautiful one Gojo Satoru has ever seen in his entire life but you seemed like a run-of-a-mill suburban woman who’d bore him after a few minutes of conversation. Maybe the type who’d easily submit and say yes to whatever he says and will still welcome him if he ever went on and got his cock sucked by another obviously, he’s not one to do that but that was the point of it.

You were that type of boring woman.

The ones with no fire and make him yawn.

“Well, I hope you’ll treat her right, Satoru-san. Such fateful angels like that…” he shakes his head, clicking his tongue, “They’re very hard to come by on this earth.”

“Sounds kind of shallow for me to treat her right just because she’s pretty.” Satoru retaliates, grabbing a calamari ring and munching it on his mouth.

“Ah, not just the looks Satoru…” the older man clicks his tongue in disappointment, contradicting the young man’s train of thought, “This is fate showing you the way.” He exclaims as if he was remembering those times when stars had led him to meet his wife.

The shaman hides his laugh with a snort at his choice of words. He’s wondering if the old man was in for a joke time or if he had drank all the beers tonight, himself; yet when he remains there, looking completely sober, he takes his words back, “I doubt this is anything but fate, old man.” he revealed, taking a sip of his drink. His family had bought you, what kind of cruel fate were you subjected to?

“Hm.” His gaze twinkle in what seemed to be like amusement and fervor as he continues to share his side, “The thing is Satoru-san; no matter how tangled, contracted, and stretched fate seems to be, it always finds a way in the end. She might just be the fateful partner you’re unknowingly seeking for and you…” he gestures towards Satoru, the lonely man who seems to have no one by his side and who navigated the dark paths of this damp and dreary world by himself, “Might just be the man who she’s also looking for…”

Satoru’s lips pressed to a thin line, the tale making him shift on his seat uncomfortably since it seemed to hit a bit too close to home, “I doubt that.” he truthfully remarked, someone who could follow his trail and stand next to him? No one ever did. Well, once, yet he had left him and didn’t even glance back that day.

“The red string…” he waves his little pinky up, “is stronger than you think.”

After their seemingly heavy conversation, Satoru gets up and is ready to leave but is stopped by one of the women on the other table. Brown hair in locks, a seductive gaze that seems to eye his crystal blue ones in a confident and cool manner, and lips flushed red because she’d probably been drawing it between her teeth when she’d been eyeing him for a while.

Satoru is no stranger to this, he’s been a receiving end to countless affections from strangers all the time from both genders.

“I’m Aina.” she introduces herself, her lashes fluttering to a close as her glossy lips pursed together to give it that effect that it was bigger. She tries to innocently tilt her head to the side, “I just saw you were heading home and I wanted to ask if you wanted to join me and my friends-”

“I’m actually about to get married soon.” he cuts her off, the image of you popped out suddenly in his thoughts. Theirs that weird feeling that he shouldn’t be doing such shameless things especially to a boring and delicate lady such as you. It felt wrong. Aside from the fact that he didn’t like strangers touching him, of course.

Well, he guessed that being married wasn’t so bad.

At the very least, he can tuck the wedding ring in his pocket and just whip it out when someone would try to approach him like that.

There's a baffled expression painted on the woman’s face as if she just couldn’t believe that he’d outright reject her before she’d even say anything, “I doubt you’d ever wanna be called a mistress especially by my family.” he winks, without him even saying anything more or hearing her out her proposition, he walks out of the Izakaya.

The wintery night of Tokyo makes him stop in his tracks, the snow is barely even touching him due to his infinity that he keeps on at all times.

“Fate?” he mumbled, turning off his infinity for a brief second to hold out his palm and touch the falling snow yet instead he catches a snowflake, he stares at it melt on the warmness of his palm, the words of the old man alongside your face had him wondering, “...I wonder…” he skeptically continues.

Gojo Satoru is a non believer towards those things.

Satoru would like to think that love is an unlucky game of Russian Roulette. The chances of him being shot by it is highly unlikely, it always had been because of his lifestyle and how much he tried to avoid it but when it had hit him it hurt like a bitch.

He’s not entirely sure what hurts more, was it the idea that he shouldn’t expect a reciprocation of feelings because this relationship was just built on money and paper? Or was it because he presumed that you were starting to feel the same thing because you slowly were starting to look at him with that affectionate gaze? Or better yet, was it that harsh slap of reality that he was simply just a stand-in for someone who had died and you were simply just projecting whatever you had felt from that guy towards him?

Maybe it was all the above.

He shouldn’t even be angry because in the end, it was his fault as to why he got so pent up like this. In the beginning, such things like love and any baggage that went behind that, was out of the question. After all, you both didn’t exactly seem to lounge around comfortably at the idea of it. You both had common ground, scoffing at the notion but here he is, alone at his apartment nearby the school and away from you because he didn’t want to be around you for another moment.

“I can’t believe I’m falling hard for a woman who wouldn’t hesitate to leave me for another man.”

He recalls your expression all too well, it’s one that’s laced with shock and how your words are suddenly coated with anxiousness and cold sweat as you try to console him but all he could see was red at that point. He didn’t want to hear anymore of it, the least thing he’d want was commiseration from you out of all people. So he walks out that night and ends up here in this apartment.

Unlike the warm home you tried to build, this place was cold and empty. Something he’s no longer accustomed to but one he had to deal with. He’s leaving for Chefchaouen soon after he leaves Yuuji with Nanami for a bit, he needs to deal with Yuta over there.

He was planning to take you with him since you seemed like the type of person to be interested in travelling but after he had arrived to the abrupt conclusion that he couldn’t exactly handle the idea of sticking around if that's how you viewed him, he might as well let everything return to how it was supposed to be.

He should’ve stopped prying after that little deal you both had made. This is an arranged marriage after all and the only thing needed to keep it going was two agreeing parties with mutual respect for the contract.

His phone starts vibrating on the bed side table and the shaman slowly sits up right, you hadn’t even called him after what had happened so he doubts this was you, “Hello?” he greets.

“I’m outside your apartment.” the familiar voice of Nanami Kento greets on the other line. He hasn’t talked to his kohai after what had happened, he’s sure that the deep friendship you two had shared would lead to unmounted questions that he didn’t want to hear as of the moment.

After Satoru ends the call, he goes down and is faced by the familiar blonde head and tawny eyes. His straight-laced features alongside his steady and direct gaze makes him wonder just how on earth you and him ended up friends, you were too alike in more ways than one. It seemed like Haibara had been the glue of whatever friendship had happened.

Yu Haibara.

He feels his heart thump at the memory of the boy. He wonders if Yu Haibara was watching over his miserable life right now in the afterlife. A living man jealous of a guy who was six feet under and had only been a far-off memory on your part, someone who you couldn’t get over.

“Hm.” Nanami Kento clicks his tongue at his senior, “Judging by your shitty disposition, you had a fight with Y/N.”

“Save it.” Satoru replies, not in the mood to even talk about it out loud, “It’s not like we’d amount to anywhere to begin with.” he added the last part, trying to seem nonchalant and cool but despite that suave response, Nanami Kento knows better.

The blonde man takes his sunglasses off, eyeing the older man warily for a brief second, “Is this what the couples say by cool off?” his brows upturned, “I heard you’re leaving for Chefchaouen in Africa.”

Nanami Kento never intended to cause any harm. Y/N had only been the last living memory he technically had of Yu Haibara, someone he wanted to protect very much so and although he’s sad to see that his friend had caused you great distress in your current and happy marital life, he knew he needed to clarify some things as well.

“Just for a while. I’ll be introducing Yuuji to you before I leave,” he runs his hands through his hair, ignoring the question he had regarding you and how your relationship had been fairing. Now that he knew how he felt for you, he didn’t exactly like sharing his problems with other people anymore. He might as well deal with it on his own terms.

“You still haven’t answered me about Y/N.”

There's a stifling silence between the pair, “I don’t think it’s any of your business.” he finally uttered, “Whatever me and Y/N had...your friendship...Yu Haibara...that’s all in the past…” he sounded mildly resentful, making Nanami purse his lips in a sigh.

It truly was astounding how different Gojo Satoru seemed to be from then and now. The image he had of the older man was someone who didn't want to settle down or be controlled by such emotions because it wasn’t proper. The notion of love, family, and everything in between was clearly not in a shaman’s modus operandi. He recalls the white-haired man himself saying that the burdens of shamanism is walking down those paths alone and dying with nothing around you.

It’s why not many people survived in the field and had either quit or retired early.

“I don’t see the point of jealousy towards my dead friend, Gojo-san.” he deadpans, shaking his head yet Satoru found his argument to be weak. Why did it seem like he was always painted out as the bad guy between you two? Does being the strongest equate to him not being allowed to feel or think about these things once in a while? Betrayment? Anger? Or worse, jealousy that all those moments he started to cherish was just you chasing after an empty dream with a dead man?

He’s only human and he could only take in so much.

“You make it sound like I have no right to be when I’m married to her.” Satoru is upbraided by his thoughtless statement, “How would you feel if the woman you’re married to and in love with wasn’t reciprocating it at all because of that?” he truthfully revealed, throwing the information out there nonchalantly. The words left a bitter after taste in his mouth, the volatile and momentary weakness of the man had left Nanami Kento mildly flabbergasted.

Gojo Satoru may have fallen in love for the first time but the unreciprocated feeling was more than enough to hurt him and crush his heart to pieces.

“You’re putting words in her mouth.” Kento clears his throat, trying to calm his senior down but Satoru stuffs his hands in his pockets, looking away from his Kohai as he remembers those moments he has shared with you. It was those fleeting and wary glances, and the way that you seem to avoid him.

He didn’t need words.

Those actions were more than enough to know where he stood and he didn’t want to force you anymore than that.

“Her reaction towards me is more than enough to know where I should stand,” he relaxes his shoulders, slumping forward. He might as well start circling where he should only be standing and get back to burying his head on the job like last year, “And I’m not fond of groveling, you know that.” he adds, crossing his arms, “At the end of the day, I have my responsibilities and I can’t be fixated on her and my emotions. It’s not good for me.”

Nanami Kento’s lips pressed to a thin line at the way the situation had turned south, it seemed like Gojo Satoru won’t even be opening his ears to him.

Everything around you seemed like a motionless blur, the weekdays had come and after buying groceries and tending the garden, you’re seated on the green patch, barefooted with a cup of tea right next to you.

The first thing you noticed was that the bed is cold without him there and that the nightmares had become more unbearable without his warmth next to you.

Satoru has returned to his regular schedule back when you had first gotten married, one where he had disappeared without so much as a call or a brief reminder that he’d be gone for probably months on end. You doubt he’d even show himself randomly like those times before.

There was something so different about that bitter dissension, one where he had openly confessed how he felt. A part of you remained hesitant because how were you even supposed to respond to such words? So you just stood there, in the silence, staring at him, completely baffled as he walked out, leaving you there alone.

Unlike Yu Haibara who has only seen your good side, Gojo Satoru is a different story altogether. From faux kindness to churlish silence in between due to his uncouth attitude and your offhand retaliation that slowly and mildly change for the better as you gradually start to lean next to each other and get used to the presence of one another, maybe even start thinking of it as something customary since it had become a day-to-day occurrence.

Unknowingly, you had already given your heart out to the shaman during those moments of vulnerability.

You were weak and starved for such company growing up, it’s probably one of the reasons why your grandmother had pointed it out and told you that it was unwarranted since it may lead you to getting your back stabbed in the end by that same person.

You lick your dry lips and draw your lower lip between your teeth as you stare at the same paragraph of the book again. The words not registering in your head because all that ran in your mind was what you were supposed to do with your current situation. You tap on the pages lightly, twirling it on your fingertips.

Isn’t this what you wanted, though?

For him to be far away?

For him to get away from your tainted hold?

It’s only a matter of time for him to be pushed further away from you, you’re doing that one thing that he rightfully deserved which was to be with anyone but you. It’s only right, good people don’t deserve to be dancing around with devils. By the very least, if things do turn out fine and continue on like this, it’s more or less likely that you’d be able to get that divorce when you’re older. You’ll both be free.

“...You would’ve left me…” Satoru’s words echo in your memory as you stop your actions, your heart starts thumping erratically as you vividly recall his crestfallen expression, one that looked like you had plunged a knife in his heart and stabbed it multiple times.

It plays in your head like a broken record that won’t ever seem to stop, it bothers you like that searing ache on your chest that won’t ever seem to go away when you imagine him growing further away and returning to that same distance as before.

You let out a harsh breath and shut your eyes tight, placing your palm on top of your face as you try to sort yourself out. It’s so confusing, so messy, but most of all, it was terrifying because you didn’t know how to act anymore. What false response should you come up with? What lie should you spin this time? Why were you even putting an effort to salvage a relationship that shouldn’t be saved because it shouldn’t be there in the first place?

This marriage is something that should only be on a piece of paper, anything beyond that would mean woe for you and would only bring torment to your poor husband in the future.

You shut the book, placing it down next to you, laying your hands flat down on the grass, and looking heavenwards at the way the sun had softly hit your skin, “What should I do?” you muttered, “Why do I feel like this hurts more than every injury I’ve taken?” you continue to utter to yourself, your eyes remain transfixed on the pretty blue skies and clouds that seem to still move and continue on despite the cheerlessness of your current situation.

The world around you continues to revolve but your feel like you’re in stop motion.

You slowly raise one of your hands to trace the shell of your ear, how your husband seems to make it a habit to tuck a strand because apparently you didn’t seem to like it when your hair got in the way of your face. The warmth is no longer present but it lingers in your memory like a dandelion that tickles your skin when someone blows it your way.

The sound of the doorbell is enough to get your head out of the clouds, Nanami had texted early on that he’d come by for a visit along with some freshly baked bread and sure enough, there he stood, mild worry laced on his features as you pat away the invisible dirt on your yellow sundress.

“Sorry that the weekend lunch had ended on a sour note.” you apologize, placing the cup of tea right in front of him alongside the croissants he had bought for you two to share when he sits across you.

“I met with him earlier.” he brushes it off, as if it was nothing. On a better note, he knew he could help you out more since you both were friends, maybe you’d even listen to him, “Satoru must’ve told you how he felt.”

Your mouth set in a hard line, recalling how he had resentfully expressed his feelings. You were too inundated in shock to even formulate a response at that moment, different surges of emotions pooling down and leaving you rooted in your place, “I broke his heart.” was all you simply imparted.

“And you didn’t tell him how you felt because…” he drawled, eyes narrowed to slits as he stared at you like a disappointed mother.

“I don’t know.” you truthfully specified, looking up from the tea cup. When you tend to look at things such as falling for someone, the thought of it being Gojo Satoru, was not all that surprising but you knew your limits. Falling meant love and everything in between it, it meant being honest and showing your bare self according to textbooks.

Love is patient.

Love is kind.

Things that didn’t seem to mix in well with someone like you or as you’d like to say, they were emotions that didn’t seem overly familiar. You grew up in an environment filled with negativity, hostility, and hatredness. It had made you used to that treatment and you didn’t expect anything more than that.

In the end, you married a man who you thought would treat you the same way or maybe not even spare you so much of a glance. You were prepared for that and didn’t even think of anything close to what was going on right now.

If Yu Haibara had shown you what the world was like.

Gojo Satoru didn’t hesitate and gave you the world with as much ardor and fervor, hands that won’t seem to let go of yours, not even caring if you both had started off on the wrong foot or the fact that this was simply just a contractual relationship then.

“You’ve always been a mysterious one, Y/N.” you feel your shoulders tense up when Kento had pointed it out, your heart hammering ever so slightly, “It’s why I was too spiteful towards you when I found you and Yu sitting there...A part of me had wanted to curse you for doing such a reckless and stupid thing.”

Your lips crack a small smile, recalling that moment, “It was obvious.”

“It is.” he agreed, “Sometimes I feel like you’re smarter than you look and more clever than you let on. A part of me thought that you were just using Yu without even thinking of the consequences.”

Nanami Kento could go on and on about that, he had an eye on things after all, and had always been called out for his paranoia regarding certain things but this was just him being careful, “Satoru said that too, you know.” you point on, fingers grazing the handle of the cup. It’s funny how the façade you kept pulling up had slowly been crumbling down these days. Would it entail a bitter ending for you? They’d have you killed if they found out who you were. The same people who proclaimed such words could also be the same people who’d plunge the sharp end of the knife to you in the end.

“But I believe that Satoru and Yu had the same notion. They both have a good eye on people and I’m sure they weren’t wrong with their choices.” he paused, “...It’s not too bad to take that leap, Y/N. Any moment now.”

Your brows furrowed together in wonder. That leap you’re going to take would be dangerous, it had repercussions and you were truly sure that one day, it’ll bite you back for it.

“I’m scared.” you admitted.

“Of what?”

Honestly, this was the first time that you had been scared of a lot of things that involved emotions and a single person. For how easy it is to say those words, they’re easy to take back as well. There is no permanence for you in this life. Gojo Satoru, himself, might leave you one day and it terrified you. Right now, you were so used to such things that you couldn’t even think straight, what more when you let yourself freely go and keep chasing after him? walking by his side? What then?

“Just…” you smiled, tapping your fingers on the table, “...I don’t think I’m strong enough to face the repercussions if something happens in the end.”

Nanami Kento assesses your words carefully, trying to pick them for a moment, “Are you scared that this will end like Yu?” he inquired smoothly, mildly hesitant to bring the topic up since you both haven't properly addressed the topic since that day when you were both teenagers.

Worse.

“I don’t know.” you repeated. You couldn’t tell Nanami Kento about all of this despite the deep bond you had shared. How this was all just a sham that you orchestrated to selfishly save yourself and you might wound up hurting your husband. If you had to be honest, it’s the least of what you wanted to do. You prioritized shielding him from what you’ve done and he didn’t need to see such devious things, you won’t be able to handle his reaction when everything comes to light, “...I wish it was easy to answer…”

Satoru is leaving for Chefchaouen in a few days.

After handing Yuuji over to Nanami Kento and making sure that his student was comfortable despite the stand-offish attitude that the blonde had presented, the young pink-haired shaman seemed to have liked him off the bat. It could only mean that the shaman can continue on his way and stay in Chefchaouen for a while, away from you for a moment to sort out these thoughts and attachments.

He’s not sure if he should enter his own home, though.

A part of him is uncertain as to why he had ended up here. He’s probably just making excuses for himself because he yearned to see your face whenever he’d wake up at dawn, or better yet, he missed those little moments where he’d help you with your hair whenever he had time to spare or those times where you’d wake him up if the dreams got too bad and he’d tug you to the kitchen to make that weird pancakes you seem to like with that honey butter syrup. It was probably those little moments that had seemed to accumulate and in turn, made him want to just run back here and shut his ears off at the bitter truth of where he had stood in your life.

He walks into his own home, feeling like a stranger as he treads across the steps to your shared bedroom like he was marching into his own deathbed.

You might not be home, probably out doing your weekly grocery runs or something like that so he’s probably safe but when he feels your faint curse energy behind the door, his fingers linger on the handle for a second. You probably know he’s standing here as well but he doesn’t care because his mind has become a mess the moment he feels your presence. All logical reasons had always been thrown out the window when it came to you.

It hasn’t registered within him on what he’s supposed to do next.

The shaman isn’t exactly briefed on things like this for he’s usually not the one to proclaim such things out loud and face rejection. In the eyes of many, Satoru had always got what he wanted and it was all in the snap of his fingers too. He was treading on a barren land filled with landmines, with nothing to back him up. A feeling that he should get used to when he’s around you but still can’t.

He enters your shared bed space, the plain walls and the same scenery greets him but you sit there by the window, a book in hand. You seemed rather startled by him, “Satoru.” you breathed.

From formalities and uttering his name like that on a random day, one that makes his body shiver in delight the first time you had called him that with familiarity and unknowingly made it a habit.

It’s the way that you had your legs lazily propped up and you were just casually reading a book and god, does he want to forget why he’s even angry and lay on your lap while your docile and melodic voice tells him about that book he could care less about.

He feels his adam's apple bob up and down as he tries to calm his beating heart, don’t falter. Keep a straight face. He maneuvers his way to his dresser to grab some of his belongings.

“Where were you?” your voice is stiff, hesitant, as if you were sorry for him but he wants anything but your pity now.

You, of all people, should know that. After all, you hated being pitied because of your situation.

He understands that feeling now.

How weak one would feel being under someone’s thumb. It felt like he was drowning in the pacific with rocks attached to him, plunging him deeper and deeper until the ocean floor, he couldn’t breathe, “Work.” he simply uttered. Not bothering to add anything else to the mix because he doesn’t want you to detect the indignation.

“Oh…” typical of you, holding back your tongue, “...Are you...are you coming home soon?”

Satoru stops mid-action, back still facing you, “Why would I?”

“Because…” his jaw clenched as his grip on the material tightens. It’s funny, back then, you wouldn’t hesitate to put him back in his place. Now you’re simply reduced to this. A scared little girl who couldn’t even prowl back or so let out a little scratch.

“Because what?” he forcibly stuffs the shirt in the bag, turning to you.

It had been a few days since he had last seen you, your features remain angelic and beautiful, eyes that used to look at him so emptily is now replaced by a new emotion that he’s too exhausted to asses, and mouth pressed to a thin line as if you didn’t know what to say.

He walks closer, just until he could the heat of your body close to him and hear the way your breathing turn’s sharp, “Because what, Y/N?” he repeats.

He watches the way you gulp down nervously, it’s enough to make Satoru take one step back, “Don’t give me that bullshit.” he finally calls you out.

If there was something Satoru didn’t like, it was that attitude of yours where you wanted to say something but held yourself back as if he couldn’t handle it. It was as if you were treating him like a child who needed to prided away from the terrors.

If you didn’t feel the same way, you didn’t need to keep running back to him. He’s exhausted playing nice.

In the first place, he wasn’t even like this.

He watches the way your (e/c) flare up in shock, “I give you one thing,” he clenched his fist, “And you want another. I gave you the distance you wanted badly and now you’re running back to me. What is it, really?”

He watches the way you become apprehensive, how you also take a step back and curl your hand to a tight ball. Your nails are probably digging through your skin, right now and he knows he should stop whatever he’s about to say next.

Yet it’s just so unfair. How he was growing too attached to you and how easily you had a hold over him.

How you make him feel weak for the first time.

How you’re just seeing him as a stand-in when he thought that you both were getting somewhere.

How he thinks that he’ll never be the first and he’s feeling all sorts of insecurities for the first time in his life, wishing that he’d done this earlier, met you earlier, swept your feet away first, and maybe he won’t feel these things now. He’s drowning in these filthy thoughts and you don’t even probably care.

“...Stop being selfish and manipulating my emotions, Y/N…” he tiredly adds, turning back, “I don’t want to walk behind you and pick up the pieces for you, that’s not my fucking job.” snatching away the bag, not even giving you one last glance nor a goodbye.

Love is a game of Russian roulette and it truly hurt like a bitch when he was hit on the chest.

Ren likes fucking women from behind.

He likes tugging their hair as he rams his cock in the bitch, how she moans her name with fervor and calls him ‘lord’, her thighs turning to a quivering mess when she feels his balls slapped on her bare skin. Women were too easy these days, you didn’t need to even touch them and they’d be reduced to this wet mess.

He could easily slip his whole cock in without much foreplay, just palming her fat cunny and playing with her bud in the back of the sakura tree where anyone could see them. He didn’t expect her to be this wet with just a little exhibitionism.

My, would his other woman like this as well?

“M’cumming my lord…” he forcefully palms her breasts, letting her lean on his chest.

“You don’t get to cum before me, whore.” he mutters in her ear, squeezing it and tugging the nipples, making her writhe in his arms.

“My lord….please…”

He slaps her pussy in a harsh manner, “Hush, you’re nothing but a common whore. If you can’t make me cum first, I’ll have to start taking out some of those knives and carve a tally mark on your skin. I’ll mark you while i slap your fat ass” he feels her hole tighten around his length, making him grin ferally, oh, she loved that-

“I doubt your otosan would like that.” a bored tone fills the room.

“Fuck,” Ren growled, feeling his cock soften at the sound of his Uncle’s voice. Didn’t the fucker know what personal space meant? L/N Jiro stands there, leaning against the door, mild disinterest in his features even when he sees the naked woman on his nephew’s bed or the way that he had his ass splayed in the air for him to see, “Can’t you fucking knock, old man?” he barks, throwing the woman back in the bed.

“It’s 2 pm.” he narrowed his gaze, making himself welcome and walking inside the room, “and you’re here fucking a common whore. For a man that’s about to be one of the candidates of future head, you sure know how to spend your time and think you have the spot already.”

The lady’s eyes widen as the young man eyes her with his cold and indignant gaze, she wastes no second but to collect herself despite her cunt leaking, a shameless display towards the cool and collected man. Jiro was known to be the youngest of seven brothers of GM/N and GF/N, he had no wife as of the late since he found women to be a nuisance and children to be an inconvenience.

It didn’t stop his interest in securing his spot as the next head, though. He likes to dabble on in passing interest, what more than be a little shit and come inside to ruin the moment? He knew how much his nephew enjoyed such frivolous activities.

“What else do I have to do?” he snatches the yukata, wrapping it around himself haphazardly before grabbing the pack of cigars, “You here to call me out on my bullshit with (Y/N) and her lapdog of a husband? You’re like (F/N)-jisan.” he places the stick on his lips, lighting it up as he gives it a quick inhale.

“Oh?” he’s rather amused of his older brothers pretense, then again, he’s just a bloke who didn’t seem to know people well, it’s no surprise that he didn’t know how his daughter would act. The man should take in a lesson or two, in fact, maybe all the men in his family should just get their head out of the gutter of lust or violence correction, lust and violence.

They should use their brain for once.

No wonder he was his okaasan’s favorite.

“Do tell me.” he pushes his nephew to tell him about what happened.

“Nothing, just tried to push Y/N’s buttons, tried doing the same to that six-eyes as well.” He nonchalantly shrugs, placing the stick between his fingers. His violent gaze stultified by the sudden conversation, the grey smoke of his cigarette seemed more interesting than the pair, “They’re both so fucking boring. He doesn’t seem to enjoy women a lot and hasn’t even touched Y/N. Is he celibate?”

Jiro lips twitch upwards at his nephew, “How old were you when Y/N was born?” he backtracks, trying to recount that day.

“I don’t know, five? barely remember her or that day.”

L/N Jiro stands there for a brief period, leaning against the wall, “She won’t be bringing Gojo Satoru.” The smell of smoke fills the air, washing out the scent of sex from earlier. The confidence laced in the older man’s tone is evident that it makes Ren raise a brow as if his uncle knew something he didn’t.

Although Jiro had barely interacted with his niece growing up, he knows you well. You weren’t a tattle-tale and you didn’t like associating yourself with them.

The most probable scenario would be you going alone with your head down the whole time.

“You ever wonder why they hate her?” Jiro grins, realizing that this brat was too young to know what had happened that day. He was in his twenties that time you were born, his brother and your useless mother had been expecting twins that day.

A boy and girl.

They had apparently expected two high cursed energy children, it’s a shame that one of them decided that only one would get out and choke the other with their umbilical cord. What’s even more comedic was the aftermath, instead of two high grades, out came a weak baby girl and a stillborn that could be far from saving.

The poor whore couldn’t even carry another child for it made her barren after, a second infertility or so they said. Jiro recalled that he was laughing that day, probably because it would mean that his chances to be head instead of his brother had sky-rocketed. It’s probably where his dream started, how he’d kill all those curses and rise up the ranks, one that’ll be higher than his father’s.

The older (h/c) remembers how you immediately were separated, couldn’t even get a single drop of milk from your own mother’s tit.

“...She’s a bane to her family’s existence that’s what.” Jiro grabs a cigar from the table, placing it between his mouth. Brief silence filled the room, the only sound could be heard was the flickering of the lighter, “The only thing she brought to her family was bad luck and Gojo Satoru is about to find out the same thing. Only a matter of time …So we don’t need to worry, at all…”

#Jujutsu Kaisen #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk angst #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen gojo #gojo imagine #hostclub.adulting #📝📝.minazuki mini series

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quirklessidiot · 3 years

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title : minazuki [4: sendai city] pairing : gojo satoru x f!y/n Genre: angst, arranged-marriage au, mystery/thriller, romance, mature, enemies-to-lovers-ish, and very slow burn (canon compliant-ish for ch-0 to the anime)

Summary: In which Y/N L/N is placed under a union she has no choice but to partake for the sake of her survival.

Warnings: language, kind of manipulative!y/n, mentions of death, manga spoilers, brief ptsd episode, sleeping problems, mild anxiety Notes:we’re finally here. sorry for the late update dhhshss i may or may not have fallen asleep and not have edited the chapter but ive made it up with a cute y/n and gojo scene

series masterlist || taglist closed ||

chapter summary: A trip to a city that was once promised to you along with danger lurking behind the scenes.

The soft rays of sunlight are pretty.

At least, in your point of view it is. It was a quaint city. One that seemed like just the memory had described, one that made a faint smile appear on your lips as you gently and leisurely push through the crowd, curiosity eating you up on the inside as if you were like some child on a candy store, as if it was your first time being given that box of kikiufuku mochi’s back when you were sixteen and you had tasted what dessert was actually like. Meanwhile, Satoru trails behind you with both of your luggage in tow, the shaman trying to make sure you don’t get out of his line of vision.

He surveils from how one man brazenly eyes you up and down then towards the young girl behind said man who was walking hand-in-hand with her mother, this time, she was looking at you with starry-eyes as if you were some princess walking out of a story book. He’s still absorbed by all types of attention you receive when you were both in public, how you elicit such a response from people who didn’t know you and knew you alike. You were like a doll behind a robustly-built glass case, nice to see and compliment from afar but could never be touched or tainted by foreign objects.

“Satoru-sama?” Your voice wasn’t as soft or as mellifluous as before, the faux pretense had now been reduced to what seemed like a reclusive individual who refused to be caught onto a spider's web, “Is this the place we’re staying at?”

It’s a tall building, a five-star hotel apparently according to Hanna when she booked the place for the both of you and helped plan the itinerary. The young maid was stoked the whole time and looked like she was the one going on the trip.

He nods in response, pushing the door open for the both of you and letting you in first. You continue your way onwards. Nimbly, your face is quickly replaced by a more relaxed and gentle expression than earlier when you greet the man in the front desk for the both of you. He takes note of how easy it is for people to be unguarded and open to you as if you were some old acquaintance or a distant relative even, “...Actually Gojo-san when Hana-san called, she had reserved a honeymoon suite for the both of you…”

There was a moment of stillness between you two for a brief period of time and Satoru was sure you were going to be the first one to kindly object him that he may have gotten it wrong but when he turns to you, you retain the courteous smile, no single eyebrow up or face contorted to something else, “Oh my,” You laughed behind your hand, “I apologize, you see, me and my husband have been fighting these days and he likes to sleep in a separate room to respect my well-wishes. Maybe this is a sign that we should finally make up.”

The manager nods fervently, placing one of his hands on his chest seemingly stirred and impassioned by your words as if he had suddenly understood how it felt like to be fighting with a spouse. The shaman takes heed on to the wedding band on the manager’s ring finger. Ah, that’s why. “Our hotel will make you both feel like home and will patch up whatever problems you two may have.”

Satoru lifted a brow at your farce and tried to hide his laugh with a meek cough at the manager’s jocular words. Aside from your sharp eyes, he’s curious as to whether or not you took acting classes as a kid because of how rather easy it was for you to sway people and elicit a compassionate and empathetic feeling like those actresses he sees in movies or in broad way, “Thank you.” you beamed, taking the key cards, “We’ll be sure to enjoy our stay and trip.”

“Please contact us when you both need anything else!”

Satoru presses the elevator button then turns to you, “How do you do that?” he inquired, wondering how easy it is for you to exhibit things like that quickly as if you were simply switching the lights on and off in the living room. Even he had a hard time maintaining such pretenses with people he knew, how much more towards strangers and people he didn’t actually care?

“What do you mean?” the elevator dinged, you entered the small box as your husband continued to walk behind you.

“The whole act.”

“It’s not really an act when you do that everyday, is it not?” you coolly remarked, the elevator doors closing in as you pressed the button of your designated floor, the blaring red light of the elevator catching your gaze as you watch it ascend. Your (e/c) eyes remain there, not even looking back his way, “You have that too, Satoru-sama. Every human being has one. It’s just that some of us like to act by the book more than whatever it is people like you do.”

The white-haired shaman shifts one foot to another, “Well, I can’t seem to argue with you on that.” he blinks, you did have a point there, it was probably a matter of patience and finding a routine. Two things Satoru did not have and probably could never have in his life since he was more spontaneous and had anything but order in his life. Whatever he seemed to have lacked, you filled in generously so.

The conversation is cut short with the elevator doors opening at an empty floor, “I’ll be taking the cou-” you tried to utter as you make your way to the room.

“Dibs on the couch.” he puts the bags down and snatches the key card from your grasp, to open the door, “The bedroom is separated anyways so it’ll be easier for you there.”

Satoru makes his way in first along with the bags to prove a point by sitting down on the couch, relaxing there, taking his shoes off and putting his feet up like a childish boy.

“Have the master of the Gojo Clan sleep on the couch?” The irony of everything that had been going on so far between you two would make your grandmother wake up on the fiery pits of hell and question what on earth is it you were doing. Every single lesson, everything taught to you was thrown off the window ever since you’ve said yes to this man in the altar on this day, just one year ago. Just how many more inconsistencies will this man ever push around down the road of this marriage?

It was also, without a doubt that whatever plan you had tried to mobilize and worked hard for and in the years ahead, is diminished to thin air, it seemed like the mistress part wasn’t going to happen either. You had to give it to him, this man was indefatigable with keeping his side of the bargain and not backing out of his own words.

“I also can’t have the missus of the Gojo Clan sleep on the couch.” he specified, concluding the conversation between you two as if he didn’t want you to say anything more, the wonted shit eating grin decorating his features right after as if he didn’t want room for another argument between you two, “Now, I believe Hana hasn’t changed the itinerary except the room. Should we go now?”

It’s a five day trip, Hana had advised you two while she was planning about the places and what they were about. Satoru looked like he had his mind elsewhere and wasn’t all too keen about it since Sendai was mostly comprised of historical landmarks and sites from the books that you had read as a child. From the museums that contained artifacts of the old Date family to old houses of samurai’s and lastly, to a shinto shrine that was known to be a national treasure.

In the end, despite the dull reaction that your husband had brought forth when it was discussed to him what would be going on in the trip, you’re inwardly dumbfounded that he’s following you from behind for the next few hours, not even insisting on using his teleportation to the places despite them being a bit far from one another. He doesn’t even utter one snide comment nor does he say anything about how you mindlessly look at things as if it was your first time visiting places like this. He had held back his tongue throughout the whole trip, probably sputtered out a random comment or two but not one that you’d scornfully reply to.

“How is it?”

You and Satoru are on the side of the street, eating out specialties and street food delicacies of Sendai. The man had seen you peerlessly and ambiguously gaze over the grilled beef tongue awhile ago and decided to get you one along with some Robatayaki. You looked very content and relaxed with what was going on so far today, probably the first time Satoru has ever seen you this way since he had met you last December, two years ago. This time, such an expression didn’t look like a mask unlike before.

“Good.” you quietly replied, taking another bite of the grilled food, “Very good.”

The shaman also takes notes of how out of it you were at times today, letting your guard down here and there. He’s not entirely sure if this had meant you were slowly loosening up on him or if you were currently in a daze. Maybe it was because it was your first trip out of the main cities. He had heard from Ieiri that growing up, you had only most likely been to Kyoto and Tokyo, not even fully going out to explore each prefecture in those places, “Not bad for a first trip, so far?” He takes a bite out of his ice cream.

You turn to him, as if you were pondering what to say yet again, “I think this is my favorite.”

“Place?” the honest response makes the small corner of his lips turn upwards, “You sure?”

“Yeah.” you acknowledge, your glossy eyes looking at the litters of people passing by and cars pushing through the streets in rush hour, the sun still softly peeking out and giving it a golden hour view. The place is looking more enchanting and captivating despite it being a small and ordinary city, “It’s nice here.”

Satoru doesn’t catch the underlying yearning on your tone nor the mild nostalgia washing over your eyes, one that seemed like you had been thinking of something else throughout the whole trip.

It’s later that evening, after having a rather filling and quiet dinner that was mildly comfortable surprisingly does Satoru receive a call from no one other than Megumi, himself. The white-haired sorcerer frowns and quips the phone in his ear. The boy was in Sendai too because apparently one of the fingers of Ryomen Sukuna was here and since the shaman couldn’t be bothered at this time, he ended up ordering the kid. The teenage boy was strong either way so picking a finger up won’t be such a hassle on his part plus it would be good to start training Megumi as early as this.

“You’re telling me,” Megumi growled on the other line, as usual, Satoru could almost feel the seething anger on this side of Sendai, “Someone’s keeping a special grade curse in a place like this? An outdoor thermometer box?”

Satoru quips his head back in laughter at the boy’s description, painstakingly so, the way Megumi and him argued was more or less comedic in his eyes. He was the complete opposite of him and he even favored you since the very beginning last year. The boy’s contrasting personalities between him and you were like an added frosting to the cake, “Recovering it should be no problem then!” He addressed, sitting down on the edge of the couch and relaxing on the softness of his soon to be bed.

“There’s nothing here.”

Silence filled the line first as Satoru’s forehead creased when he heard those words, what?

“Huh?” The shaman’s lips had turned down, suddenly leaning in forward as soon as he heard those words from his student. That didn’t seem right.

“There’s nothing in the box!” Megumi repeated, vexing his mentor. Satoru shakes his head and tries to maintain a calm disposition.

“For real?” he chuckles, trying not to think too much of it, “That’s hilarious then.”

“I’m going to punch you.”

“Well, that’s too bad. No going home until it’s recovered, kay?” he grins, grasping his phone a bit too tightly, the sudden harrowing discovery might lead him to cut this trip short with you, “Me and Y/N will grab you something to eat for souvenirs later on so do a good job! If you finish early we might even get you some dinner.” Before Megumi could even respond to him, Satoru puts the phone down and throws it to the side. The man shuts his eyes tight and runs his hand through his snowy-white hair. Megumi will be fine, he hates to admit it but he’s his father's son with a technique that could rival the six eyes itself despite not being fully completed just yet, he was strong in his own right.

Satoru feels your presence reemerge from your side of the room. There you stood, unlike the usual nightie that you wore, you opted for something longer this time. Your hair was down and you were leaning against the doorway, still relaxed from earlier events, “He’s in Sendai?” you questioned, there's a hint of uneasiness in your tone, probably directed to Megumi and his first mission as an official student of the Academy. He’s come to notice how you worried for the boy greatly and looked as if you wanted the young shaman to be merited away from the perils and atrocities of the world of Jujutsu. You reminded him of a mother who worried too much for a child and didn’t want him to go around exploring too far from the nest.

“Yep.” he nodded, motioning on your face, “Judging by that disapproving tone, you’re probably worried.”

“He’ll be fine.” You addressed, crossing your arms but that doesn’t still erase the poking uneasiness in his tone, “I’m sure picking up a small finger won’t do him any harm, right?”

Satoru knows better, the man can detect that it was still mildly bothering you so he relaxes onto the couch again, showing you that he was faring well and that he had it all under control, reassuring you that this wasn’t going to go south, “If anything happens to him, I’ll be there.” he mused, “You have my word on that, Y/N.”

“Well,” your blank gaze eyes him for a brief moment, “You have to be but honestly, I hope it still sails smoothly.”

“Are you doubting him?”

There was something so soothing when you talked to him without much bearing or hatred, it was probably the cool tone you’d use or the way that your attention seemed to be directly at him during the whole time. Something Satoru basks in, “Of course not,” you lean against the doorway, “He’s the future heir of the Zen’in Clan. The son of Toji Zen’in, the man who almost had you killed. Megumi is built upon the likeness to stand next to you, maybe even surpass you.”

Satoru almost wants to laugh at how you describe the boy. He was right about his description earlier, you had stood and easily filled in the shoes of a matriarchal figure and he’s sure Megumi is sort of seeing you in that light as well, “That’s more or less one way to put it, Y/N.” he articulated, “It’s amazing isn’t it?”

The shaman looked up at the ceiling as he continued to recline back on the soft furniture, the thoughts of kids like Yuta, Maki, Inumaki, Hakari, and Megumi filled his head, ones who he saw great potential in, “Have I ever told you of my dream, Y/N?” he finally uttered, this makes you cock your head to the side at his choice of words. Another thing that you didn’t expect from the said man was this type of conversation yet you remain in your place, humoring him, “I wanna change the system.”

It was an uncharacteristic dream. You’ve always seen Gojo Satoru as a man who was selfish and individualistic. One who always pushed forward to certain goals that only favored him. In your eyes, the system was corrupt and disgusting especially to women like you, so those words had only sparked genuine curiosity on your part, “I could kill them all up there but nothing’s gonna change so I’m going to train these kids…” He continues, a shit eating grin plastered once again on his features as he turns to you, his eyes filled with zeal as he looks towards you behind his black sunglasses, “To be stronger than me and who can help me attain that.”

You feel your lips turn slightly upwards in levity as your husband confesses that goal, so that was why he didn’t want to marry you. Well, what do you know, Gojo Satoru was a man who wanted to rebel and change the dishonorable structure, how valorous, “Is that why you didn’t want to marry me?”

A part of you wants to laugh at your past self for not even considering this. You should’ve realized that when you had heard of what happened between him and Geto Suguru and that meeting they had shared in front of the fast food restaurant. Gojo Satoru ended up being a man who looked like he had everything but in the end, had nothing at all because he had lost it to the system itself.

“You do know that I might end up being called out for treason, right?” He chuckled, turning his head towards you, carefully eyeing you for a moment, “I didn’t mind it at first, Y/N but after a year of this back and forth banter, I realized I can’t have you back in the bridal market.”

“How chivalrous of you.” you deadpanned.

He laughs at your derisive response, a rather typical one that he is now getting used to, “You don’t like pity. I’m not giving you any.” He truthfully comments, throwing his head back and guffawing at his remark. The agreement you had made seemed good on his perspective, what an honorable way to die if it was that way, in the hands of his wife, “But a promise was made, Y/N. When the kill order is sent for my head and they force you back, drag me down with you. That’s our deal.”

You hummed a response, making your way to him, Satoru pupils dilated as he sees you bend over on top of him and cup his cheeks on both of your warm hands, taking advantage that the shaman doesn’t turn his infinity on around you. He feels his head turn fuzzy at the closeness between you two since this time, this one held no ill-intent and animosity like before, it doesn’t help that when he looks down, he sees a peak of your sheer lace bra, one that he’s startled that you even owned and he got to see with his very own eyes. His adam’s apple bobs up and down at this yet it’s the next few words that shifts his attention, “That’ll never happen,” You carefully stare at his bright blue eyes and overhear how his heart beat suddenly quickens at the sudden closeness between you two, odd, you didn’t expect this response especially from a man like him. Nevertheless, you carry on. Your tone isn’t coy nor honeyed but clear and concise, “Because you’ll succeed. Aren’t heroes usually the winners at the end?”

Satoru feels like his head was about to burst at the innocent choice of words you had said along with how your soft and warm fingertips brush his cheek. It was as if you were telling him that you believed in him and that he’ll be able to pull this off. He was honestly thinking you’d ridicule him and call it a night because you were someone that was more or less objective about things and overthrowing a whole system as of the moment, looked anything but that yet you maintained some sort of determination behind your voice as if you were pushing him to continue with whatever he was doing. You slowly remove your warm hands from his cheeks. He feels his jaw clench at the sudden and impromptu moment that you had created but you remain unfazed and collected as you bid him goodnight.

You don’t trust him but you trust the tenacity this man would have, changing the system would be advantageous on your part as well. This scenario couldn’t be that far-fetched, especially since Gojo Satoru would be in the front lines, leading it, “...Much less a man who strives to be some sort of god.” your lips part as you let out a small sigh underneath your breath, recalling the words scornfully remonstrated at you a year ago by the principal of the Kyoto College.

Some sort of god, you walk in your room, closing the door behind you as you thought of those words that had suddenly made their way back to your head. A god wouldn’t bestow a power to surpass him. A god wouldn’t try to go through such lengths.

You let out a small chuckle underneath your breath, your husband did have some sort of savior/hero complex, after all. Maybe he shouldn’t be called the devil like you but an actual angel like Michael who fights for injustices and steps on the wickedness and snares of the devil.

My, this is probably why you’ll never have peace in your life even whilst you sleep.

You deserve the villainous ending for even using him, his situation, his life, and now, his dream to get what you wanted.

How befitting.

It’s three am.

Satoru hears a loud thump that makes him immediately sit up on the couch, a curse wasn’t actually stupid to lurk around here, were they? The soft cooling sounds of the AC is the only thing heard along with the loud sound of silence. Slowly, he strides to your door, softly knocking. There wasn’t any imminent response so he knocks again.

Again, nothing.

The door softly clicks open, he’s startled that you hadn’t even locked it at all in the first place. The dim light is enough to show that no one was on top of the king’s bed, this makes his forehead crease in wonder just where you were. He leers to the side, trying to find where you were and stops when he finds feet peeking out nearby, you were on the floor with pillows and a blanket strewn across you. Your brows are furrowed together and Satoru realizes that he has to wake you up. He bends down, “Y/N…” He softly calls out your name, shaking your shoulder lightly, “Y/N…”

Your eyes suddenly shot open, making the shaman jerk his hand away from you in response, “I-” You breathed out, clenching the sheets beneath you as you try to hide your unsteady breathing, “Satoru?” you uttered, eyes glossy from the unknown as you try to maintain a front.

“I heard…” he hesitated, “A sound…”

Judging by how the pillows and blankets were placed, it was obvious that you had slept on the floor so he didn't bother to say anything about it.

“I must’ve dropped something.”

“Want me to be on guard?”

Satoru is mildly aware that sleeping on the floor was probably not going to be the most comfortable thing to do and he wants to probe as to why you’re sleeping there when you have a king’s bed here that looks quite comfortable too. He’s sure that you didn’t practice this at home since he recalls that one night he had come into the room , “On guard?” you ask, he points to the soft mattress and motions you to lay back down.

“I’m not sleepy anymore.”

“But-” you tried to protest.

“Just go back to sleep on the bed, I’ll watch out if there are curses that come in.”

You dither for a few seconds, unmindful of what to do next and if you should follow his order. The shaman’s gaze stares down on your empty eyes, there was no agitation but the facial expression you had made a while ago in your sleep was enough to tell that you were still pressing on grisly nightmares. Steadily, you prop and pull yourself up from the floor. The shaman’s warm hands ghosting your lower back to help support you. You showed no signs of displeasure in this as you sat down on the bed. Hesitantly, you recline and relax on the softness of the mattress. Satoru remains by your bedside, making himself comfortable as he perches himself on the floor.

“My obaachan would turn on her grave if she saw this scene right in front of her.” You honestly point out. The shaman turns to you, the sudden small story of your personal life has his mouth turn to a half-smile. It was a random one, you’ve never talked about your family but judging by how you called your grandmother and the rather affectionate way you called out for her, he has a feeling you two were close.

“Oh?”

“A wife letting her husband sit on the floor.” your eyes flutter as you stifle out a yawn, indicating that you are tired, “You don’t see that everyday.”

“Well,” he leans back on the side of the bed, “Haven’t we established that we both were never an ordinary couple to begin with?” he recalls your conversation during the cold wintery night of the twenty-fourth last year.

You had both come a long way from that to whatever it is you two were doing now. The dynamic was still confusing but more or less, it was getting bearable and getting there, “Oh, we did, didn’t we?” you agreed, slowly closing your eyes. The white-haired man places one hand on top of your forehead.

“Sleep, Y/N.” He mumbles, reassuring you, an odd thing that he hasn’t done in a long time, “You’ll be fine.”

He hears your soft breathing and your face slowly starts to relax but his hand still lingers on the strands that cover your face. Lightly, he lets his finger dance between it before tucking it behind your ear.

When you had woken up, Satoru was nowhere to be found. You rub your eyes and sit up at the edge of your bed, the clock staring down at you, it was ten o’ clock. You had overslept and you were supposed to start the day early since you were visiting some places up the mountains. You mumble a few curses on your breath as you feel the cool floor below you, opening the door, only to find your husband there, casually scrolling through the tv.

“Satoru-” you began, he turned to you, a chocolate croissant in between his mouth as he waves the remote up. The shaman tosses it to the side and grabs the sweet treat between his lips

“You sure you don’t wanna sleep more?” he asks, cutting you off, trying to discern you for a brief moment behind his sunglasses, “We still have three days to kill around here. Sleeping in doesn’t really matter.”

At some point, maybe you had to give him some credit. He seemed to be easier to talk to rather than the past, maybe it was because of how different the air between you two was these days. At the very least, you both seemed to find a rhythmic pace that you both could seem to agree on.

“I…” You paused, “I’m good. We can go have lunch out now and move around.”

“You know,” he takes another bite of his bread, “you really have to stop doing that.” You lifted a brow at his choice of words, surveying his facial features for a brief moment. He remains relaxed and casual as he raises his hands up, signaling that he didn’t mean to be offensive about it, “I’m just saying. Just go back to sleep, it’s not like I’m going anywhere either.”

“I’m fine. It’s not a lie.” You acknowledged, truthfully, it was a dreamless state and you felt quite energized by this, “I’d like to eat some Kikufuku later, I’ll go get changed.'' Without even waiting for him to say anymore, you return to your room to get changed while Satoru remains seated there, eyeing your door, lingering thoughts about what he had seen this morning probing his mind. He clicks his tongue in dismay and puts his head back, ah, just what he needed. Another unanswered question from your side.

After what seemed like a while, he finds you ready to go, your features are now fresher and complexion better than before. Satoru, once again, like yesterday, trails behind you as you both move around the city, he takes you to brunch, and even buys you the Kikufuku mochi you've been wanting to eat. You both sit across from each other in the restaurant, enjoying the comfortable silence after a good meal, he slowly eases on the chair, “Feeling better?” he asked.

“I should be asking you that question.” you return, wiping the invisible stain at the side of your mouth, addressing what happened this morning yourself, “You were awake from the wee hours of the morning and sitting on the floor.”

“It’s nothing I haven’t done.” he dismissed, truthfully while on missions, there were some uncomfortable places to be so sitting on the floor wasn’t exactly a big problem. He slowly leans forward and clasps his hands together. You know that look anywhere, he was curious about something. Maybe about what he saw when he came in.

“You’re going to ask a question.” You manage to say, mouth pressing onto a thin line as your gaze narrows down on him, “Go spit it out, it looks like it's been bothering you.”

Satoru is debating whether or not to ask about what was going on with you these days, how you looked like you had seen things that probably shouldn’t be seen when he catches a glimpse of those panic-stricken eyes and clammy hands that gripped the bed sheets tightly but he bites back his tongue, he had a hunch that he won’t be getting anywhere if he asked that, “Just got curious, you talked about your family earlier.” he started, asking about something else, maybe family wasn’t so much of a problem since you seemed to have spoken softly of the deceased woman.

He has seen your grandmother in passing once as a child, she was like you yet at the same time she wasn’t. Even giving him a piece of candy and fluffing his hair at the party when he was probably about twelve, with her finger over her lips, telling him that he need not to tell anybody that she fed him a treat before dinner time.

“Have you met her?” you cock your head to the side, surprised that your grandmother had approached him. Despite the motherly aura she presented, she had confessed to you in passing how much she actually loathed children, if it weren’t for her little charade, she apparently wouldn’t want anything to do with the little gremlins even if they were her own blood. It wasn’t that surprising to you then, with your confusing dynamic growing up, it was clear she didn’t know to properly give affection to a child from the heart, “She’s quite the woman.”

“Once,” he recounts the event, “Very briefly, a long time ago. I barely even remember what she looked like then.”

“She was the one who raised me and was in charge of everything I’ve learned.” your fingers softly tap the wooden table, your eyes glint with apathy as you remember her but your tone held mild longing, “We don’t know what happened one day, she suddenly disappeared. I ended up having to go to Kyoto instead.”

“They didn’t find anything?”

“Nothing.” Your expression turns blank as you stare down at his plate for a split second before boring your eyes to his, “Not even a piece of fabric.”

After that conversation, Satoru and you are back on the road again. The soft peaks of the sunlight peeking through the clouds as you made your way to the busy streets, the shaman shouldn’t have probably asked about your grandmother too. It sounded like a depressing topic to also begin with.

Not even a body to be found or buried and you seemed very close with her as well, he wonders how you feel each year when you pray to an empty grave.

“Satoru-sama?” You call out, raising another box of kikufuku and motioning him to come closer, you don’t seem perturbed by the topic earlier, he thinks it’s probably because you’ve always paraded around with a smile to the point where it became an automatic expression for you then, “You should give this to Megumi after the mission. I’m sure he’ll like it.”

“Get one for the both-” His phone rings, cutting him short, “Give me a sec.”

Your eyes blink at how his face suddenly contorts to mild seriousness as he steps out of the conversation, you remain standing there, the box of delicacies in hand is forgotten as you watch your husband from afar. Megumi wasn’t in trouble was he? Maybe Satoru shouldn’t have given such a mission so heavily to him for a first try. At the end of the day, it was a special grade cursed object-

Your heavy thoughts are cut short when you feel someone bumping into you and you have to hold onto the box a bit too tightly to prevent it from falling to the ground, this snaps you out of your worried trance, “Oh, sorry ma’am.” the boy apologizes, his pink spiky hair splayed everywhere and a familiar cherubic expression suddenly makes your gaze turn soft as he snatches the fallen bouquet of daisies on the floor.

“It’s fine,” you eye his flowers for a brief moment and the fallen petals on the ground, “Are you and your flowers alright?”

“Oh they’re fine.” He gingerly grins, “My jichan won’t even mind if they start looking ugly. Sorry about that again, ma’am.”

The way he had spoken about his grandfather makes you genuinely beam, the youthfulness and normalcy of the young man was sure something that you were envious about and wished you could experience.

“It’s alright.” you politely smile at him, “I think you should be on your way now, I know my obaachan wouldn’t like it if I kept her waiting too.”

The young boy’s apologetic and shy grin turns even bigger at your choice of words. He bows down in apology again yet you dismiss it and completely reassure him that you were fine and that such little things won’t be such a problem. You watch as he hurriedly dashes away, the sudden impact of the bump temporarily reels you away from the horrid thoughts that something might have happened to Megumi. Satoru, mean while, returns to your side, stuffing his work phone back in his pocket, “What happened here?” he looks down at some of the petals and fallen daisies on the floor.

“A child,” you simply explained, it wasn’t exactly a big deal, what you wanted to know was if the call was related to Megumi, “He probably hadn’t seen me since he was too in a hurry. What happened?”

“Just work,” He disclosed, taking the box from your hand and giving it to the girl at the front to pay for it and have it wrapped. He’s been liking these mochi’s that you had requested to get, maybe he should ask the chef when he gets home to make something like this flavor, “Calling some people in, they wanted my opinion on some things.”

“Megumi?”

The shaman’s bemused that your worry for Megumi still knows no bounds, you’ve been asking about him since last night and seemed to be on alert whenever he had received a call.

Satoru pursed his lips for a moment, taking the box from the front and turning to you, “How do I reassure you that he’s alright and I’m here in case something ever turns south?” he hearted, bending down a bit as he caught the underlying tones of disconcertment in your voice, “Stop worrying. He’ll be fine, Y/N. Didn’t you say that he was going to surpass me one day?”

“He’s still sixteen and it’s his-”

“Small things!” he cut you off, suddenly standing erectly, raising his arms to prove a point, “Don’t worry about him. You’re on a trip to a city you’ve always wanted to go to. Try to enjoy it.”

Yet the sense of dreadfulness and ominous feeling still doesn’t leave your profound thoughts as you walk next to your husband on the busy streets of Sendai. One that felt like something was brewing, you thought of a silent prayer to whatever god or diety that was out there to keep the boy safe from any harm.

Satoru should’ve known better.

Later that night he receives a call from the higher-ups that he might need to cut your vacation short because of the problem regarding the missing cursed object. He mumbles some curses underneath his breath as he starts to call in Ichiji to come by here and drive you home.

You’re bundled up in a thin coat with your suitcases next to you as Satoru helps you down to the lobby, the shaman seemed to have compunctious feelings about how this trip had ended too quickly but you don’t seem all that displeased that it was cut short, “You should give this to him.” You hand him the gift box filled with the Kikufuku mochi’s, there it was again, the foreboding sense as the talks of the young boy came into play, “He deserves it after doing a good job.”

“I’ll get him one on the way.” You chew on your bottom lip, wondering if you should voice out your concerns for the student yet you decide not to. You trust Megumi, he’ll be fine. He’ll be alright, “Take care on the way home...” He opens the door for you but before he closes it, he bends down to face you, “Let’s go back here and attend the Tanabata in July, Y/N.”

Your mouth presses into a thin line as you hear his words. These days, the shaman seemed to like making a lot of promises to you. Daresay, he seems like he was more, human in your eyes, like he was easily reachable this time, “I’d like that,” you affirmed, “Take care of yourself too, Satoru-sama. I doubt you’ll need it, though.”

His gaze suddenly catches the fallen strand, an out of place facet since you’ve always liked to keep your hair away from your face. Hesitantly, he lifts his hand up and tucks a stray hair beneath your ear, “Sorry.” he utters, his warm finger grazing your earlobe, “You always liked to keep your hair away from your face.”

Your lips parts and pupils flare at the unanticipated action that there's a few moments of quietude between the both of you, the warmness of his touch still right there.

Ichiji clears his throat, the moment gone as soon as it came, “Satoru-san,” The driver calls out, “Me and Y/N-san have to get going now, you should too.”

Satoru leans back and shuts the door while you remain mildly fazed by his actions, he wasn’t usually touchy. Although you did like to touch him to prove a point that you were taking advantage of your position, it was the first time Satoru had ever held you like that alongside saying such outlandish words, “Y/N-san?” Ichiji hesitated, looking at you through the mirror as he drove through the traffic.

“Yes?”

“You and Satoru-san make a good couple.” he compliments.

You relax on your car seat and look out the window, staring at the places of the night life, forgetting what had happened just awhile ago because it wasn’t something that you should dawdle on too much. After all, you still viewed him as a conundrum, “That’s what they all say.” you mumbled, then turning to smile at him through the mirror, “We do, don’t we? He’s a good man.”

Maybe it was the guilt that was stating to gnaw you up and the wonton feeling of getting rid of the plans that you’ve made. You could only shut your eyes tight, ignoring the lingering apprehension.

Satoru, meanwhile, has ended up on the rooftops of one of the schools in Sendai and is greeted by a very much injured Fushiguro Megumi with a troubled look on his face. By the looks of the damage, it didn’t look good. He might be on the receiving end of your dirty looks when Megumi comes to visit you, bandaged, “So what’s the situation?” he pops out of nowhere, hands in his pocket along with a gift bag.

“Wha-” the boy exclaimed, turning to him, eyes widening, “Gojo-sensei? What’re you doing here?”

Megumi suddenly recalls that you and Satoru were in Sendai for your anniversary, the thought of your trip getting cut short because he was too incompetent suddenly makes his stomach turn to mush. You looked like you were looking forward to it when Hana had brought it up one time while you two were having lunch together. He can’t believe that he was the reason why the trip had suddenly been canceled, “I wasn’t going to come but the higher-ups got involved after hearing that there was a special grade cursed object that went missing.” Satoru whips out his phone and starts taking pictures of Megumi like the little shit that he is so that he could be able to show it off to Maki and the other second years, he takes a mental note to hide this from you, though, “And I agreed because Y/N kept giving me a look the whole time and she looked like she wouldn’t enjoy the rest of the trip.”

The young boy feels his spirits disheartened when he hears those words, you truly were too kind for his mentor.

“...so did you find it?” Satoru finally inquired, putting his phone back in his pocket as his masked eyes bore into his dark obsidian ones.

“Uh…” a new voice pipes in, the white-haired shaman turns to find a unknown individual with bright pink hair standing there, looking absolutely clueless with no qualms about the current affairs at hand, “I ate it.”

Satoru remains on his spot, gaped and mildly surprised by the phrase, “For real?”

“For real.” Megumi confirmed, bowing his head and sighing on the spot, not entirely sure of the predicament he reeled himself into. Not only did he ruin your anniversary trip, he dragged in an innocent civilian in this too. He almost wanted to slam his palm on his face because of this mess he had created yet his mentor’s laugh suddenly echoed in the solitude of the terrace. His gaze shifts to find the six-eyed shaman staring down at Itadori Yuuji with great interest.

“You’re not kidding, they’ve combined.” He stated, tapping on his chin as he continued to look at Yuuji, “How does your body feel?”

The pink-haired boy looks down and starts stretching and turning his body side to side just to check, “Okay?” he’s mildly unsure if he should trust this guy, he’s wearing a blind fold after all. Could he even see him?

“Well, could you switch to Sukuna?” Satoru asks, taking a step back to give the boy some space.

“Sukuna?”

“The cursed object that you ate.”

“Oh yeah,” he hesitantly lilted, “probably.”

Yuuji is mildly unsure of what to say next or if he should even consent to it because judging by the damage that this ‘Sukuna’ did, he didn’t seem like a very good guy. What if he’d hurt the newcomer?

“Ten seconds,” Satoru exclaimed, noticing the hesitance of the boy as he started playfully stretching. If his hypothesis was right, he might earn himself a new student to the cause. The abrupt thought of you too makes him inwardly laugh, it seemed like he might also earn himself another visitor at his house if this kid would be able to control the demon in his body, “Come on back after ten seconds.”

“I dunno about this.” He noted, hands on his hips as he looked down on the shaman who was not even the slightest bit perturbed by it.

“Don’t worry,” Satoru is confident as his lips twist to a wild and crazy grin. Sukuna Ryomen or not, he’s not called the strongest sorcerer alive for nothing, “I’m crazy strong.”

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#jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk angst #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #gojo satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #saturo x y/n #gojo x reader #Jujutsu Kaisen #📝📝.minazuki mini series #sorry about that dhdhdhd i may or may not have fallen asleep #hostclub.adulting

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quirklessidiot · 3 years

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title : minazuki [9:tanabata] pairing : gojo satoru x f!y/n Genre: angst, arranged-marriage au, mystery/thriller, romance, mature, enemies-to-lovers-ish, and very slow burn (canon compliant-ish for ch-0 to the anime)

Summary: In which Y/N L/N is placed under a union she has no choice but to partake for the sake of her survival.

Warnings: mild mentions of character death notes: idk all the stars by kendrick lamar and sza had me vibing in this chapter in the soft scenes. also tanabata apparently start on july 7 but apparently ends on august. i am genuinely confused *confused face* but the lore behind it is amazing <3 i wish to attend someday but my broke ass said no <3 anyways see yall next week again <3

series masterlist || taglist closed ||

chapter summary: Certain things such as happiness are never permanent, well, until Satoru tries to do otherwise.

Satoru rakes his hands through his hair as he paces down the hallways just outside the morgue, the man had been on edge the whole time and frustrated because he needed to be home quickly. You weren’t exactly in the right mentality to be left alone in the long hours but he still needed to check on the deceased. His mind flashes back to the horrified expression that sullied your face as you tried to force your cursed technique on the young girl, begging for her to wake up in desperation as tears stained your cheeks.

“Gojo...” Ieiri calls out, pulling her face mask down and raising the chart, “Nothing weird. Just a ruptured aorta...all natural…” She hands the data to him. Satoru pressed his lips together as he opened the file and gave it a quick once over, “Who was she?” the doctor asked.

“Y/N’s personal maid…” Satoru mumbled, staring at the pictures Ieiri had taken of the body, the youthfulness of the young girl nowhere to be seen unlike before, “I think her name’s Hana…”

“How’s she taking it?”

Satoru sucks in a deep breath as he reads through the next page, “Not very good…” he recalls how you practically begged him to stay this morning, telling him that you shouldn’t be left alone without guidance. He didn’t want to leave you but he still needed to sort this situation out. It wasn't proper as well to leave you a few meters where Hana had passed away, “...We’ll probably have to move houses if this is the case.” he adds the last part casually.

Ieiri crosses her arms, shifting one foot on the other, surprised by how quick Satoru was even able to comprehend the situation around him, “Move?”

“It’s not like I wanted to live there forever.” the shaman looks up from the document. The old-fashioned estate was a place he didn’t even call home since he barely resided there for the past ten or so years, “...plus, I don't think Y/N would feel very good with the idea of staying where her close companion had passed away.”

“Figures.” she lifted her shoulders in a half-shrug, “Speaking of companions, isn’t this the second one? Any news on the other one?”

The white haired shaman shuts the document and hands it back to the doctor, “Don’t get me started on that one. That…” he recalls the last time he had someone checked, it was a clean disappearance but he still felt unsettled by the idea that they had no personal traces of Haruka left, it was like she was simply wiped off existence, “Is my house haunted or something?” Satoru half-joked, shaking his head, brushing over the topic since he was getting nowhere.

Ieiri rolls her eyes at his playful retort. Leave it to him to try and lighten up the mood, “Well, you might want to check on it but so far, all I have to say is that whatever happened to the one in there…” she gestures with a thumb, pointing back towards the morgue, “...was as natural as it could go. So tell Y/N that she couldn’t really have done anything with her technique since she was a lost cause to begin with.”

“Yeah, yeah…” he puffs out a heavy sigh, the thought of how to break it down to you continuously poking him, “You got anything good for calming?”

“Mint, lavender, you know the drill… Y/N’s been taking that since she's been getting those nightmares in January…along with the lavender essence ” she advised, “She might want to start taking sleeping pills but if those drinks and essence aren’t doing anything, I could write you a prescription.”

“That would seem best. She wasn’t able to sleep the whole night a while ago.” he mumbled. Although you had liked to hold him tightly these past few nights, last night was different. You were wide awake and he had to stay awake as well, promising you that there wouldn’t be anyone coming in and that it would be alright but you remained there, completely still and not even letting him go until the sun broke out. Satoru has never seen you at a low point in your life, you had always held yourself to a high degree despite the events that had been going on for the past year, with your unwavering expressions, smart decisions, and confident actions.

It baffled him just how different things were from a year ago and now.

After taking the prescription, with a small flick of his finger, he ends up in front of his home. Itadori Yuuji stands there in front of their door, a weary smile on his lips “Uh...hey sensei…” he greets him.

“Why aren’t you inside?”

“Just...Just wanted to make sure everything was fine out here.” Yuuji explained. For once, Sukuna hadn’t bothered him after what they saw. It was an unnatural occurrence but he didn’t want to count on it in the long run because at the end of the day the man was far to be trusted especially if he had gone uncharacteristically quiet. It was better to be safe than sorry, “And Y/N-san said she didn’t want anyone in the room or nearby it…” he added in a flat but cautionary tone.

“Thanks Yuuji…” he stuffs his pockets back in, “We might have to delay training together because of what happened-”

“Oh no!” the young boy raises both hands up and waves them side to side, gesturing that this set-up was alright, “I’m more than alright to train on my own...Y/N-san needs you more than ever now…”

“Don’t worry, after I find a new place for Y/N, we can sort this thing out and I can take you out on the field again…” He places his hand on top of his shoulder, he had to sort this situation out first. You came first at the moment.

“It’s alright, Sensei.” Yuuji is still skeptical about Sukuna’s obtrusive attitude so he plays it cool again, “I’ll train on my own. Tell Y/N-san that I hope she’ll feel better soon.”

After their brief conversation, Satoru makes his way inside the house. The familiar grand hallway remains empty as he walks down, memories from last night had resurfaced as he walked past where he had found you, hands on Hana’s chest, how he had to shield you away from that because it wasn’t something you were even meant to see at all.

He ends up in front of yours the masters bedroom. He lifts his hand, doubtful alongside the decision being weighty on whether he should even proceed with what he was doing, “Y/N?” he knocks, “May I come in?”

“Satoru?”

He takes this as a yes and slides the door open to find you sitting on your side of the bed, eyes rimmed with redness and cheeks puffy from the events that had happened previously, you seemed to be unmoved since you were still wearing the night gown from last night, “Hey.” he approaches you, sitting on your side.

“Hana?” you ask, he detects mild hope in your eyes as you take ahold of his hand, gripping it along with the wish for him to tell you otherwise.

Satoru is lost in terms of dealing with things such as death and consolation, he doesn’t exactly know what to say since he wasn’t the one usually conducting these sorts of things, “Y/N…” he chews on the inside of his cheek, finding the right words to say to you yet he doesn’t even need to say it out loud, his reaction had been more than enough to confirm your suspicions.

“Oh.” your lips part, nervously gulping down. Satoru starts drawing small circles on your skin, trying to soothe you down, “May...May I know how?” you stammered, reluctant to hear his next few words.

“It was a natural cause, Y/N.” he comforts you, “Ruptured aorta...Hana couldn’t have survived something as drastic as that…It was too late...” he tries to cherry-pick his words, saying it slowly so you’d be able to take it in.

“Right…” you mumbled, your eyes turning glossy and blank. The news making the bile at the back of your throat come up along with your head turning into a pile of dark immutable thoughts, “Natural…Can I...Can I be left alone?”

Satoru’s lips pressed to a thin line, “Of course. I’ll come back later.” he assured you, giving your hand one last grip. With one last ingenious glance, he leaves you in the loud silence of your room.

You anxiously raise your hand to cup your mouth, drawing your lips together in between your teeth as tears started to fall fast, “Ha…” you had no recollection of what had happened, the last memory you had that night was going to bed in a good mood and the next thing you knew, you were in the dark and unmarked hallways of your home, kneeling in front of the girls cold body, “Ha…” you remained apprehensive, your body starting to tremble as you let out slow and uneasy breaths, “...I killed you…” you say to yourself in the silence of your room, “...I killed you…” You repeated, unblinking and steadfast gaze directed towards the red spider lilies in front of you.

You had killed Hana, the same way that your grandmother had killed your grandfather.

Death was often characterized as normal for Gojo Satoru, he’s grown up around that idea as if it was second skin. Being a shaman meant being prepared for things like that to happen, not only towards yourself but to people around you as well. He knew how to comfort himself when times like that happened. Usually, to numb out all the pain, he’d end up burying himself in more work, maybe even light up a cigarette to remind him of the good times with his friends back when they were teenagers but commiserating with someone was a different story altogether.

Back when he was studying, it would usually be Geto Suguru doing those things because apparently he was too out of touch with them and he’d end up saying something more callous, making the situation worse and the person becoming more doleful than earlier.

He was expecting it to happen as well, preparing himself for the worst as he tried to rack his brains on what to say yet after giving you space that day, you end up returning to your usual and distant self. Everything that had happened seemed to be just a fickle on your part as you continued on your duties. Albeit, you both continued to share beds, it was different this time. You remained on your side, even woke up earlier sometimes, and continued on your day. No more late night talks, no more lingering touches, and warm nights. The bed seemed colder than before.

Satoru watches you from afar as you instruct one servant to take care of some cleaning on the east side of the house, “Y/N.” He calls out your name. The servant’s eyes double in size as soon as she sees him, with one last bow towards you both in respect, she scurries away in the opposite direction.

“You’re scaring people again.” you turn towards him, your tone holds no fervor like before and Satoru has that underwhelming feeling building up in the pits of his stomach, it's unfamiliar. One that he should ignore because he knows it's not good for him. For there are so many things that he has felt towards you, from annoyance to whatever confusing thing it is right now. It was a rollercoaster, one that had harrowing twists and turns but it would always and eventually arrive towards the same conclusion. One he wants to ignore since it made him uncomfortable because it’s a rather foreign feeling.

“I just wanted to check.” his tone remains conversational and casual, not minding how terse you were, “You’re quick and back to your feet. Yuuji also extends his thanks for your hospitality.”

Satoru had told Yuuji to return to the basement in the academy in the meantime while he tried to iron out the mishaps happening here plus he needed the servants back to try and help distract you from everything that had been going on.

“Right,” your gaze is one that’s far off, as if he was not even there in front of you.

“Are we done?” “Can we talk for a moment?” you both say at the same time.

Your attention seems to return back to reality when he had done that. Face contorting to mild confusion with how he seemed to be pushy with his agenda right now. You wonder what’s up the shaman’s sleeve this time, he had been wanting to talk to you but he seemed to not know how to.

“Sure.”

“A walk,” he proposed, “Let’s go out for a walk.”

You take mincing steps towards your husband, his walk watching your slow and refined ones as he slid open the door for you. The endless and gentle wind breezes through under the sweeping golden rays of the early morning sun, the flowers popping into full bloom, and the place looking as serene and perpetual as always. Satoru holds out his arm for you to hold whilst you're walking down the cobblestone path, some gardeners even wrapping up their duties when they see you walking by to give you both some privacy.

“What’s wrong?” you inquired, your fingers holding onto the fabric of his sleeve, not fully touching him.

“Honestly.” he turns to your side, “None. I just feel like we haven’t talked.” he conferred.

“Did we not used to do that before?”

Satoru wonders what made everything different from then and now. Before he’d not spoken to you in days end, even avoided you as much as he could since he didn’t want to deal with you first hand but the idea of you slipping away when he’s had a taste of those moments had left him unable to picture what he was going to do now. He felt like a weary traveler lost in the abyss of deep darkness when he tried to imagine everything going back to what it was before. His lips part for a brief moment before forming a small smile, “I thought we were past that stage.” His voice is low but loud enough for you to hear only, “Where you keep trying to protect your self-interest.”

Your expression remains impassive as you try not to falter away from him, “You’ve seen me at my worst.” you pondered, your skin burning as you recall how he had held you with such intensity that night. If he had known what you had done, would he have done the same? You didn’t want to keep leading this on for a longer period, “What more do you want to see?”

“You make it sound like it was a bad thing.” his cool blue eyes don’t even leave you for a second, “What’s wrong with seeing you in that state? With wanting to ask for more from me?”

“A lot.” you mumbled, turning away first.

“Are you afraid I’m going to use those against you?” he truthfully points out, “Is that how you still see me?”

“No,” Your eyes doubled in size as you bore your eyes upon his once again, expression turning panic stricken and alert by such dilemmas that he had carelessly thrown out. Of course, you didn’t think of him that way anymore. Gojo Satoru is far from the odious and repulsive character that you had delineate growing up, he’s not as selfish nor individualistic anymore, “Of course not.” You firmly specified, your husband notices how your grip turns a bit tighter as if you didn’t want to seem to let go.

It was enough to quell those doubtful impression lingering in his mind about you, enough to make those unfamiliar feelings return. It’s how your fingers had intimately hold onto his arm, paired with the way you were quick to defend yourself, and ultimately, how that usual stern and impenetrable gaze shreds itself bare, “You know its okay to always ask for more, Y/N.” he places his hand on top of yours. It’s only in that moment that the strongest shaman realizes how uncustomary it is for him to sputter out these words, after all, he’s never one to willingly keep giving and giving towards someone.

“Those are dangerous words to say to someone.” you made known.

“But you aren’t just someone.” his lips turn to a smile as he takes your hand, your fingers brushing on his lips while his gaze doesn’t even leave you once when he guides it to his cheek. The softness and warmness of your palm is one that he basks in like a man who had been parched and deprived of water. He wants to hug you more at night, he wants to hold you more like this, he wants you to keep looking at him like that, he wants to keep being selfish and keep that all to himself. He keeps desiring such things he knows he won’t be able to covet, “You’re my wife.” he reminded you.

“You...” you don’t even remove your palm, your gaze suddenly turns gentle and timid as he assures you for what seemed to be the ninth time. The audacious feeling of selfishness starts creeping in the back of your subconscious once again, “You're impossible...” you whispered.

“Mhm.” he hummed, not even letting go, he continued to hold onto your dainty hands and interlocks it with his, softly tugging you forward, “I’ve been called other things. Come on. The estate can run itself around without us. That’s why I pay them.”

“Where are we going?”

“Out.” he simply remarked, pulling you in closer, “Because you need to be away from here.”

With your eyes fluttering shut, the garden around you is replaced by boisterous conviviality of strangers celebrating what seemed to be like a festival. There's confetti thrown in the air, along with children running around with their little taketombo’s and kendama’s, tourists garbed in yukata’s out of respect for the culture, and couples roaming under the hazy morning glow.

The smell of different snack stalls along with what seemed to be barbeque smoke fills your nostrils. Your direct gaze is gentle as you stare upon the hundreds of people loitering around with beams etched on their faces coupled with infectious and hearty laughter's, “Pretty.” you mumbled to yourself, the far off memory of someone describing it to you comes into light as a faint and sad smile is on your lips, “You were right…” you continued, your gaze not even faltering as you looked at the amount of color on the decorations and how the festivities started to sink in.

“Y/N?” Satoru snaps you out of your hazy memory, “You alright?”

“Yes.” you turn to him and for the first time, that rather gloomy and detached disposition is now replaced by a more radiant one, “I...I’ve never been to somewhere with this many people, that’s all.” you added, gulping down the vastness of the place in wonderment.

“Do you want to go somewhere else? It might be too mu-”

“No.” You shake your head, without even hesitating you tug him forward, “It’s fine, let’s go.”

If Satoru had to take you to each festival like this everyday to make you happy and see that buoyant expression replace those weary and downcasted ones that continued to burden you, he wouldn’t mind. Just for today, he wanted to try and at least make you forget about everything in your life. Satoru spots a couple wearing coordinated yukata’s and a funny thought worms its way into his head, you were both here to enjoy the festivities so you might as well dress the part, “Hey Y/N.” he stops you, “I should grab a yukata for myself.”

“What?” your brows furrowed together, stopping in your tracks as you turned to your husband, “Don’t you dislike wearing those since they made you feel too stuffy?”

He shakes his head and tugs you in the opposite direction, “It’s a festival plus yukata’s are easier to wear and not as stuffy as kimonos.” he comments, “Come on.” he spots a nearby store and takes you there. He gives your yukata one last glance before heading inside to buy his. He doesn’t take long, at most, he re-emerges from the store moments later in a white yukata to match your blue floral one, instead of that eyewear that you had made for him last time, he dons upon his dark sunglasses to match it. There's always been a certain flair when Satoru wore his traditional clothing properly, probably because he had only worn it once in a blue moon or so.

“Oh right, before I forget…” he mumbled, handing you a small box from his pocket, “here...”

The shaman wasn’t exactly sure about what to give you but he’s usually seen women frolicking around festivals wearing beautiful hair ornaments. He had to make a few calls for this one since he didn’t know how to design it or pick the right color for it.

You looked down at the box, puzzled at the gift that was given out of nowhere, “What’s this for?” When you both had gotten married, you recalled after the wedding, a close associate of the Gojo Clan had come to deliver ‘gifts’ from your husband. You have to admit, the scene reminded you of the yearly wardrobe change that they’d do in your household back when you were growing up, so to see him give you something on a day like this, made you quite confused.

“I don’t think I’ve ever given you something I chose specifically for you.” you open the small box to see a beautiful hair pin in white gold with pretty blue pearls adorning it to form what seemed to be a sakura tree. The intricate design and detail was more than enough to part your lips in awe for you’ve never seen something like this before. Satoru was unsure if you did like it because you continued to bore your gaze and not utter a single word, he was this close to taking it back and telling you that you could buy something else here later but you shift your attention towards him.

“I’ve never seen anything as pretty as this.” you complimented the design, turning it to one side to trace the beautiful pattern, “...Thank you…”

He doesn’t even hesitate to help you put it on, some people glancing your way since your husband and you stood out like a sore thumb in the sea of hundreds of people. It wasn’t even out of earshot that you hear teenage girls cooing and giggling at the scene you were both making, hearing the words of how you two seemed to fit the romantic environment of the tanabata festival.

“A romantic festival?” there's probably a small oddity behind those words when you had asked Satoru about it after he handed you some of the barbeque from a stall, you don’t even mind how your fingers and his were intertwined the whole time as you walk down the colorful streets of Sendai since you’ve arrived here moments ago.

“Didn’t ya know?” Satoru lowers his head, boring his blue eyes on yours, “It’s a festival for the two lovers who aren’t able to meet at all.” he denoted, eyeing the small stain on the side of your lips, “They’re only able to meet on the seventh or so the myth goes.” your husband doesn’t hesitate to raise his hand and wipe the small stain with his fingers, nonchalantly giving it a kitten lick after.

The crude action is more than enough to elicit an awkward cough on your side especially with the way he had casually returned to eating his mochi right after. He holds onto your hand once again as he tugs you to the next destination, telling you about how you should both take pictures later on to commemorate the day of your first festival.

There was something so carefree about how he had organized this whole outing in general, there was no schedule to be followed, nor was there anything you were forced to do. He simply had gone off the wind like a bird who had carefreely reigned across the heavens above. In a way, it’s something you’d expect from him and you were more than happy to be at the receiving end of all of this.

“Ah,” he gently pulls you to a booth as soon as he sees one, “Come on, come on.” He seemed rather excited when he saw a photographer standing there, “Let’s have our picture taken.”

The older gentleman eyes both of you as soon as you are in his line of sight, the crinkles of his eyes evident simultaneously as he catches a glimpse of the wedding band hanging on Satoru’s neck and the one on your finger, “Married, I assume?” he asked, draping the camera back on his neck to prepare for the small photoshoot.

“A year.” Satoru grins proudly.

It had been a year and a half since he had formally met you, a year since that unconventional wedding he had thought he wouldn’t want to participate in, and here he is right now, with you, opposite of what he had first felt like.

You, on the other hand, can’t seem to shy away from the way Satoru seemed to have been proudly telling the older man how you’d both want to have this framed and delivered to your home. Your mind is a hazy mess by how different things seem to be.

You recalled being alone in the large estate during this time of the year after you had gotten married, completely happy and elated that your husband wasn’t bothering you yet here you are now, seeing him almost everyday, under different spectrums and shades of life. The openly distant and sometimes antagonistic attitude was replaced by a tender one, one that seemed to have made you greedy and tactless because you couldn’t fathom the idea without him next to you anymore.

“To be young and in love.” the older man expressed, handing you a bouquet of flowers for the pictorial, Satoru doesn’t even correct him, instead he just playfully throws a wink at your direction, “Please stand there while I both take your pictures.”

“You know I don’t remember smiling during the wedding pictures, do you mind if we change the picture at home?” he bends down, lips brushing on your ear as he whispers the current predicament he had in mind.

“I’m sure we can have it arranged.” you turn to him, the corner of your mouth quirk up as you both stand in front of the camera. The shaman rotates his palm and takes a hold of yours, raising it slightly so the action could be seen on camera. Unlike the first time you both had your pictures taken during the day of your wedding, there's a genuine smile on both of your lips, signaling that this was a day to truly remember.

The day had been far from over after that, he took you under decorative bamboo trees because apparently well wishes needed to be written there as per tradition. Your husband, being the nosy and teasing one that he is, had kept probing about what you had written on the pieces of colorful paper but due to mild embarrassment on your part, you ignored him and told him that you wanted to have some of those desserts before the parade and fireworks would start.

What he didn’t know was that although you didn’t believe in these traditions, you had written down and wished for Satoru to always be safe and away from the bad things in life. It was the least you could do for how the day had been going so far and what he had done these past few months as well.

For your husband, in your eyes, is more human than one may seem.

“Did you have fun?” your husband asked, the fireworks display was over and you were well on your way home since it was getting late already. The impromptu trip made you feel an unfamiliar load of contentment and satisfaction, like a child who had just first opened its eyes and saw what the world outside was truly like. Never in your life had you felt his amount of carefreeness and it was all thanks to the man next to you.

“I did.” The problems may have been there to bother you, what you had done to Hana was still lingering in your head but the effort that he had put into it and the thought he had done to help you out was more than enough to earn your gratitude, “I’m surprised you even remembered that I wanted to go here.”

“We could make it a yearly tradition.” he proposed, looking down at you, the thought of having to come back here and see that completely serene features on your beautiful face was more than enough for him to make that decision, “Or we could go somewhere else, there's probably a lot of festivals in Japan I could take you to.”

He could take you during the winter festivities in Tokyo, maybe even abroad if he could. It wouldn’t be a problem if he could see that child-like joy that you were reduced to when you saw new things and encountered them for the first time, “It sounds like a dream.” you noted, your gaze returning forward as your husband starts lightly swinging both your hands when you walk down the stairs together.

“Not a dream when you’re with me,” he laughs, his words are nothing but authentic because he planned to keep it, just like those previous plans and promises he had given you. He tugs you closer to him, big warm hands still enveloping yours, “Come on, we still have one more place to go to.”

Before you could respond to that, in a quick flash and a blink of an eye, you’re now in an unfamiliar environment. Sendai is now replaced by what seemed to be a few rows of quaint houses, ones that aren't as big as the estate but looked more homely and modern than the one you had lived in growing up.

“Where are we?” there's a perplexed look painted on your features as you let go of your husband’s hand and stand in the middle of the street in front of a contemporary architectural house. It’s clearly out of place since it didn’t seem like it would be part of the itinerary for today.

“Home,” he mused, “I didn’t want to live there anymore...I was thinking you didn’t want to as well after what happened...If you want a bigger one, you could look into more of the proper-”

You don’t even let him finish his sentence, too enthralled by the place, “It’s beautiful.” you cut him off.

“What?”

You turn to him, your eyes welling up that he had even thought about this after everything that you both had gone through. The action makes Satoru panic on the spot since he wasn’t very good with outwardly comforting people, “Y/N, jesus christ- don’t cry…” he cups your cheeks, wiping away the small tears that piled up on the side.

“Ah,” you tried to pull away, for you were too caught up in the moment that everything had suddenly just surged out of nowhere. All the pain and tears you tried to hide and force down your throat had piled up to this specific moment, from that guilty feeling towards the man who seemed to not hesitate to give you some light in your stygian world to the sins you’ve done to get where you are today.

Your husband takes note of how hesitant you were and doesn’t even think twice to pull you into a hug because he’s just as clueless as what to do in this situation, “I’ll take you away, alright? After I sort things out here in Japan, we’ll go even further away if you’d like…” he whispered to your ear, holding onto the back of your head, caressing it softly, “Where’d you like to go?”

“Far and sunny…” You mumbled, crying onto his shoulder as you finally let go of the stress and burden that’s been bothering you for so long, “Anywhere far and sunny.” you mumbled on his shoulders as tears continued to fall even faster than before, there's no need of hesitance this time as you melt on his arms and hold him back with the same fervor.

“Right,” He nods, not even letting you go as you clung onto him tightly, “Far and sunny, we’ll go there… I’ll take you there…”

And although you both used to say that you were invulnerable to the world around you, at that moment, it had seemed that you both had unknowingly become each other’s vulnerability.

Satoru wasted no effort to move houses right after he had asked your opinion about it, your new home seemed smaller than the large estate but it was still spacious and unlike before where you had a hard time to catch sight of him, it was easier to get around and see him one that you didn’t mind. That little night was more than enough spark to light up and slowly burn the distance between you two.

What made it even better was that there were no servants in the house despite Satoru pestering you that there should be after what had happened, you should be more careful around people. You were even mildly hesitant to stay next to your husband at night, in fear that you might hurt him but it’s not like you could push him away when he gives you the comfort you needed from the dreams you couldn’t escape from.

It was quite a new feeling, how you started to seem rather dependent on the warmth and reassurance that he gives you at night, how you seem rather empty when he’s out on a mission and won’t be home for the next few days. You had to snap yourself out of it when you had awoken this morning alone because this wasn’t like you.

Permanency along with hingeing yourself towards someone, especially to a man as good as him would only bring great grief on your end.

“Stupid,” you mumbled, placing one hand over your head, the “You can’t keep following something fruitless.” Although you were grateful and nonetheless, over the moon that you were given and blessed with something more than you expected, it’s very clear that such things are easily going to be taken away.

The blackouts that had happened, Hana, the dreams that won’t ever seem to go away, the anxiety if Satoru would ever find out what you did to push this marriage forward. Everything was piling up to the point that you couldn’t simply just sweep it under the rug like before.

What would happen if you ended up hurting the man next to you? The sense of foreboding had made you feel downcasted when you even tried to think about it.

You huffed out a long and heavy sigh, maybe you should start separating your personal feelings. Strongest or not, Satoru had always put off his infinity around you and you didn’t want to hurt him during those moments of vulnerability. He trusted you to that extent already and you’ve knowingly had already taken advantage of it by continuing to hide the skeletons in your closet.

Your phone starts to vibrate on your bedside, snapping you out of your chasmic thoughts. A text message from Megumi sending in his condolences and that he would be visiting you for the day to help you replant some plants for your new garden but judging by how the day seemed to start, you told him that you’d be more than fine on your own.

Your bare feet ambly paces down the cold wooden floor of your home, taking in the solitude as you start making yourself some morning tea. Your gaze aimlessly stares upon the invitation that had come yesterday in the mail regarding your half-brothers party or as they’d like to call it, a little gathering of showing off. It simply just sat there unopened at the side of the breakfast counter.

You wondered if you should just toss the invitation out since you and Satoru had agreed upon the silent notion that your family wasn’t one to waste your time with. Your mother was technically right in this sense that there wasn’t a need for you to come back there even. Ren with his intemperate attitude was more than enough to deal with last time. You were sure that your father was going to be there as well along with your cousins and uncles. All of them were menaces that you wanted to keep interaction to a minimum hence why you didn’t mind just visiting once a year.

“Y/N?” you almost jump on the spot at the sound of your husband’s voice, it seemed like you were too deep in thought that you hadn’t noticed Satoru coming in.

“Morning.” You greeted him, putting the cup down, “I thought you wouldn’t be home until tonight.”

“The mission was easier than imagined and Yuuji was able to do most of the work…” you cock a brow at his choice of words, making him raise his hands to gesture that he was innocent, “I was there the whole time, don’t worry. I was just testing out the kid’s current potential. Had breakfast yet? I could make something up for you.”

“Shouldn’t you be asleep by now?” Satoru pulls out a chair across the counter for you to sit on, it’s clear that he wouldn’t be responding to the query that you had thrown off for him to answer, “and...cooking?” your expression turns extremely quizzical since the head of the Gojo Clan didn’t seem like the type of person to know such things.

“I know that look…” Satoru points the end of the spatula towards you, “Who do you think would cook for me when I go on missions? I can’t exactly bring a couple of servants with me on field.” he adds the last part, wildly facetious when he thought of that idea.

It’s quite true that he needed to pick up on himself more towards mundane chores; at times, he recalled that if he brought in Megumi when he was younger, he needed to at least prepare the brat a decent meal and not let him simply live off McDonald's chicken nuggets with barbeque sauce. He knew that much about child’s care.

“No, it’s just…” you suddenly let out a small chuckle as you watch him crack in a few beaten eggs for some egg rolls, “Sometimes you keep surprising me, that’s all.”

“Well, I only know how to make the basics and a pork cutlet.” Satoru rolls the eggs simultaneously as he places the bread in the middle of his lips, taking a bite before removing it, using the spatula to cut the egg rolls into little pieces. By the looks of it, he seemed to have mastered the recipe already. He throws in some beef as well, right after.

The domesticity of the scene was more than enough to put you in the zone and get comfortable with the silence.

“By the way,” Satoru paused, breaking the silence, unsure of how he should tell you the news, “Hana’s funeral might be next week. I just wanted to inform you on that.” he places the plate in front of you along with the utensils and a cup of cold rice.

You knew you had to face the music but you didn’t expect it to be so soon. The thought of seeing the poor girl in a casket would haunt you until your death bed, she was someone who was never meant to suffer that way. You stare at the plate for a brief period then towards your husband, “Will you be available when that day comes?” your voice is reduced to a low and solemn one.

He takes a seat next to you with his plate, “I will be.” he mumbled, his finger tips turning warm as he runs it on your knuckles, “I’m not going anywhere.”

With summer drawing to a close and fall coming, another favorite season of yours, you find yourself on your garden. You had a water hose in your hand as you try to recall the things that you were suppose to do today.

Since you and Satoru had no servants around the household anymore, you were more than happy to start doing the typical things such as grocery shopping. Their was also that thought of having to buy a gift for your half-brother for his little party. In the end, you chose to just go without your husband’s permission. You didn’t exactly want him to meddle more with the likes of Ren and the others.

Your gaze returns to the daises that seem to be on full bloom just when the sound of the doorbell echoes. You turn around, brows knitted together that you had a guest.

Yuuji was with Satoru on another mission and your husband hadn’t told you about anyone coming by. You were sure that Megumi was out as well. You quickly put off the hose, grabbing a small towel to wipe your hands in, “Um,” you mumbled, hurriedly making your way to the door, “Just a sec!”

Maybe it was Ieiri?

Theirs a saccharine coated smile once again on your lips to greet whoever was behind that door yet as soon as you open it, it falters a bit, for the man that stood in front of you along with the familiar box of kikufuku mochi on his hand was more than enough to bring back those youthful memories and broken promises that he and his friend would utter under the hazy afternoon sun in the hidden fields of Kyoto.

“Kento.” his name rolls off your lips like a wistful song reemerging from your memory.

You don’t even hesitate to throw yourself on the mans arms and he doesn’t even shrink away from the sudden contact for it has been too long indeed.

#Jujutsu Kaisen #jjk imagines #jujutsu kaisen imagines #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen gojo #📝📝.minazuki mini series #gojo saturo x reader #gojo satoru series #hostclub.adulting

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quirklessidiot · 3 years

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title : minazuki [7:the devil in disguise] pairing : gojo satoru x f!y/n Genre: angst, arranged-marriage au, mystery/thriller, romance, mature, enemies-to-lovers-ish, and very slow burn (canon compliant-ish for ch-0 to the anime)

Summary: In which Y/N L/N is placed under a union she has no choice but to partake for the sake of her survival.

Warnings: mentions of marital rape, brief mentions of pedophilia, pregnancy, cheating, man slaughter, heavy injuries on a pregnant woman, child destruction, blood, choking, unhealthy obsession, and murder (these are explicity and written in detailed) Notes: im back bloop and ive deleted some people off the taglist since they were ageless, dont hesitate to pm me if u were a part of it (like just say ur of age ig?)

series masterlist || taglist closed ||

chapter summary: Unanswered questions and lingering touches, boiling down to a high point where you can’t even figure out your emotions anymore.

“You look beautiful, my love.”

This is different.

You blink for a moment as you try to take in your surroundings, you’re in an unfamiliar estate under a beautiful cherry blossom tree. The florals blooming beautifully and the sun softly grazing you. It seemed to be spring by the looks of it. Your attention though, returns to the man who said those words.

He was someone you didn’t even recognize. Daresay, he looked out of place too. Unlike you who’s clothed in the finest of silk kimono’s and adorned in jade. He’s garbed in an old and tattered yukata with a katana attached to his hip, along with his long uneven hair tied away from his face. You're mildly unsure if you should even approach this stranger yet your body does the opposite of what you normally do. You run towards him, throwing yourself as if you knew who he was, “You’re home.” you exclaim as he catches you, enfolding yourself in his warm presence.

You’re befuddled by such brazen actions and the way your lips are betraying you as well. You embrace such a man and utter such longing when you didn’t even recognize him at all, “I’ve missed you.” You continue as you lay there on the crook of his neck, hugging him as tight as you could.

“And I, as well.” he confessed, despite his seemingly belligerent exterior, his tone only exuded fondness and warmth. Letting you go gently, he gazes into your eyes once more with so much love and affection, it’s a rather foreign feeling as well for you’ve never felt something as strong as this in your entire life. He places his rough hands on top of the smooth expanse of your cheek, his thumb caressing it in circular motions, “How long has it been since I last saw you?”

“A year.” you take a hold of the hand on your cheek and shut your eyes, responses coming out as automatic even if you didn’t know the man, “A year since I last saw you. I was afraid you’d never come back. You know how cruel those filthy things can be. I prayed every single night for you to come home to my warm embrace.”

You feel your heart beat erratically for this man, your head devoid of any other thoughts, your face turning hot as he tenderly strokes your waist, and knees turning weak as you succumb to his warmth once again.

It was such an outlandish feeling yet you couldn’t let go, he felt like home. Like you could trust him and lay there, safely. The man seemed to look at you as if you were his world and you shared that same notion as well.

It’s one that makes every burden seem to go away, as if the world around them was silent and they were the only ones in it. Only now do you notice how much these people long for each other. You wonder if this was a memory or if it was because you decided to scan one of your grandmother’s romance books for the night.

You blink for a brief second, the scenario changing quickly as if you skipped through some scenes of a movie. The subtle musky mixed with the sweet scent of spring and florets is replaced by the strong, repulsive, and pungent odor of blood. The man on your arms has disappeared, instead, a familiar mucus-like substance is on your fingers, one you’re sure that’s not yours. You take one step forward and let out a small yelp, the pain of the sprained ankle jolting throughout your whole body makes you almost fall on your knees.

So you try to adjust your vision to the endless abyss of rooms upon rooms, one that’s completely unfamiliar paired with unbroken silence

No, this wasn’t a romance book.

This was a memory.

One of which you’ve never encountered.

Your gaze trickles down to your belly, your stomach bulging and you could only let out a nervous gulp as you shakily touch it with your bloodied hand. The heavy feeling suddenly weighing you down like a ton. You were with child. You take in one deep breath then another as you try to calm yourself, the sense of danger lingering at the back of your mind as you painfully limp towards the front, no destination in mind.

Yet you stop on your tracks when you feel a wild and inexplicable presence behind you.

The screeching sound of metal being dragged across the wooden floor makes you pull yourself together and try to pick up your pace, “Where are you going, my sun?” a voice bellows and for the first time, you know what real trepidation feels like.

The man was not like the one a while ago, whoever behind you was felt like a stranger, “My sun, my moon, where are you going?” he continues, the tone of his voice is deadly calm and flat. His heavy footsteps reverb on the wooden floor.

You feel your eyes start to water as you continue to push yourself to trudge forward, terror mounting every step you take as you refuse to look behind yet you lose your footing and the sudden impact of the wooden floor along with your already injured ankle makes you immediately howl in agony. You take in another round of deep breaths, as tears start to mix with your sweat, one hand on your womb, checking if the children in it were alright, “I told you not to run.” the voice whispers as he bends down next to you, throwing the katana to the side, “You’re going to hurt yourself more, my sun.”

You chewed onto your bottom lip, seething in pain, you can’t see his face except feel his blood-soaked hands on top of your womb, taking ahold of your dirty hand, “Please,” you pleaded, begged even, the desperation to let the children live is strong, whoever this woman was, she had loved the babies she had carried with all her heart that she was willing to risk her life for them, something that you’d never imagine yourself doing, “Please let my children live.”

“But they aren’t mine.”

Your eyes widened in horror when you slowly started to realize the situation you were in.

“Please.” You begged through the searing aches, clamoring to take a hold of his hand tightly, raising it to your forehead, bowing down in distress, “Please, I’ll do anything.”

“My sun,” he takes his hand away from yours and places it on your chin, tilting it up, the face remains camouflage with the dark. He runs his fingers on your flesh, attempting to wipe away the tears before placing a finger on your mouth, ignoring your pleas. The coldness of his digit alongside someone else's blood and your tears smear on your soft pillowy lips.

“How does that brute’s blood taste?” he asked simultaneously as he forced his thumb in your mouth, making you taste it’s coppery and acidic tang. He continues to ignore your whimpers and you could only clamp your eyes shut, “Come now, you’ve tasted his cock, taken in his seed, and now you carry his dirty spawns. How does his blood taste now?”

The tears cascade down faster at the realization that he had killed the man awhile ago, “My lord-” you say through muffled panic as he presses his thumb forward, forcing you to taste it, making you almost choke when he moves it further backwards.

The faceless man continues his ministrations, not even caring if you were writhing in pain and he was blocking your airways with what he was doing. For a man who proclaimed and adored you as his sun and his moon, he sure wasn’t hesitant to kill you slowly and painfully.

Finally, he takes out his finger, the saliva connecting it to your mouth as you slowly cough out and spit the substance on the floor, “It seems like we’ll have to deal with this on my own terms.” you hear the unsheathing of a small dagger.

The body didn’t even bother to put up a fight, the very presence of the man had reduced whoever this person was into nothingness.

“I’ll have to carve those things out of your stomach, my sun.”

“No- please- not them- anything but my ch-” you try to beg but before you could even say anything more, you feel the sharp object plunging into your womb.

At first, you feel numb. The sensation is one that this body is not accustomed to. It’s only when he starts twisting the metallic object in your uterus that the searing pain starts spreading throughout, the feeling of the blade tearing your insides as he runs it down like paper. He was literally going to rip you open to get those children out of you. Your breathing starts turning slow while there's a tangy taste coming forth your mouth as you slowly start to cough out a red liquid substance.

Everything around you starts turning to a motionless blur and your vision turns black.

Your eyes shoot open as you sit up right, clammy hands clutching the duvet beneath you as you twist it to a tight knot. You draw in one long breath then another, the faint smell of lavender and vanilla essence residing in the air filling your nostrils. You try to regain your senses as you look around the room, listing the objects you could see to try and calm you down.

Whatever memory that was, it was heavy. There was no way that memory was right because that child wouldn’t have been able to live with whatever that psychotic bastard was doing nor would that woman be able to get out of there alive.

Slowly, you wrap your arms around yourself, nails digging through your upper limb as you rock yourself back and forth. The painful sensation is gone but your head was still in a mess and your throat was dry.

Water, you needed water. Something to eat as well. You need to distract yourself from everything that’s running around your head. You yank your blanket off your body and get out of bed in a hurry. In order to avoid running into Satoru, you ended up with a small jar of packaged treats in your room and you’d take in a tall glass of water before coming in.

You glug on the tall glass of water, drowning in it as your mind zooms back to that mind-numbing dream you just had. It’s odd how realistic everything was, then again, they were memories of people so it was only natural that you’d be getting the full-experience of it yet the first part seemed so different.

You’ve never dreamt of a romantic scene like that before.

You shake your head at the thought of it, placing the glass down before running your hands through your dry hair, the scene that played after was more like it. Cheating on her husband? It was still pretty brutal that he wanted to carve her fetuses out. Judging by the way she even moved, she was probably forced into the situation as well since she seemed to like the deceased more than whoever her husband was.

How cliché, it seemed like her life became quite tragic for following her heart.

“Ah,” you muttered, placing one hand over your head, “Might as well read something from the pile.” you turn to find some of your grandmother’s clutter neatly scattered on the floor across you. There wasn’t much except old romance novellas, a few old postcards and pictures, and some old children's story books, classic Japanese stories as she liked to call them when she taught you how to read them. The old woman was careful with whatever she left behind.

Opening your nightlight, you settle on the floor and stare at the post cards yet again, trying to discern them. Some were of beaches and corals, a few others of caves and forests. It was an odd mix of natural tourist spots in japan. They were all gifts from her old circle of friends, along with the words ‘happy birthday’, the years varied so she must’ve asked for the same thing every year.

You cocked a brow at the weird gesture but you continue to read the greetings anyways. All sang praises and hums of how great a wife she was and how her children would be a part of the new society. She probably wanted to get out as much as you did and this was probably the only way to do it, the only farthest you both went to before was a beach front that was nearby and that was after your grandpa’s death.

You could only part your lips to sigh while you place it down and turn to romance novels. You were never one to read them growing up. In front of your family, you ended up indulging yourself with gardening because the idea of growing something and giving it life was small comfort to you. The thought of reading a romance novel in the situation you were in made you feel quite bilious.

You take one random book and look at the strange title with amusement. You turn to the steamy description at the back and almost let out a snort as you read it, it’s odd to picture your grandmother even reading such things. You open it and start carelessly flipping through the pages, checking if she had left something.

One book after another, you throw it back into the pile because they contained nothing until you’re left with a single one. An old story book, one that your grandmother had you read to her so you’d be able to learn how to properly enunciate as a child.

You read the story of Momotaro a lot, probably even memorized it since she had you read it until you got it perfectly right when you were five years old and had you even rewrite some passages of it until your hands would hurt.

You can’t even believe she kept it, she didn’t seem to be the sentimental type of person since you both didn’t share that type of relationship. You trace the cover of the book for a brief period before opening it, your mouth pressing to a thin line as you stare at the coffee-stained pages. You start twirling the page and playing with it’s side as another memory comes in. This book was something that your grandfather had apparently gifted you when you were born because apparently you were like Momotaro a gift from God.

Sometimes you wondered what would’ve happened if your grandmother hadn’t killed him. Things would’ve most likely turned out very different on your part, maybe even more daunting because she had told you of his plan to keep you in the family until you were twenty-five. He had apparently taken an interest in you when he had seen you formally for the first time when you were ten years old. You feel your hairs stick to an end when you recall that memory. Thankfully, your grandmother ended up sticking a hairpin whilst he was asleep. Ultimately, since she was stronger than you, your grandfather died because one of his organs had ‘mysteriously’ ruptured whilst he was asleep when in fact your grandmother had acidified it with the use of a hairpin.

Your gaze turns blank, expecting the usual beginning of the tale yet your grip on the reading material tightens with what you see after.

Your grandmother had scribbled through the whole first page of the story. No words were left, along with blocking out some faces of the characters. It seemed like she just had drawn over them each with a pen.

You move to the next page as well, it’s even worse, the pen marks took out the whole paper and not a single white space of it could be seen. It makes you raise a brow at her absurd actions. You start skimming through quickly, some pages have been ripped out which made your pupils flare up because where did it go? Even the drawings of the Oni’s in the book become even more highlighted as you delve deeper into the story, one you’re sure would give five year old you nightmares.

By the end of the book, Momotaro is scratched out while his friends are drawn over.

You blink, touching the vandal’s your grandmother had done to the page, “What are you trying to say?” you mumbled. Maybe this was done out of spite, your grandmother might’ve been angry that day and decided to release her frustrations elsewhere. You shut the book simultaneously as the sound of the door across your room slides open and the sudden registration of the familiar curse energy snaps you back to reality, your shoulders instantaneously tense up. Your husband was home.

You would so much as disregard him and his whole being whenever you’d see him before so It’s odd how even his mere presence can reduce you to this now. Your lips purse to a small sigh as you put the book down and slide it under your bed. Carefully standing up and not making any more noise. As you slide in the comforts of your duvet, you hear a soft knock outside.

Your dainty fingers suddenly pull the fabric to cover yourself, “Y/N?” your husband calls out behind the door. You hold your breath as you lean against the headboard, not wanting to respond to the man nor face him at all, “Your nightlight is open.” he continues, “Are you okay?”

Ignoring him would be wise. It always is, it was what you were supposed to do after what he saw and how he reacted. It would be sagacious to push him further away from you to get rid of whatever feeling that’s clawing in your chest. Every single time you see him, the feeling gets stronger and every time he shows a little bit of himself, Satoru becomes less of a higher being and ends up looking more human in your eyes.

A good man, you thought, just a lonely and good man who had the world on his shoulders and had no one to be with.

That’s what he is to you now.

The knocking stops and the silence returns, signalling that he has probably left you alone to your own devices and you're about to let out a sigh of relief at this yet another round of soft knocks comes about, making your muscle spasm at the sudden sound, “Yuuji and I were out today and we got you something. I’ll just leave it out here. Goodnight, Y/N.” you slowly slide your legs close to your body, wrapping your arms around them as you try to comfort yourself.

“It’s alright.” you mumbled, “it’ll be over when you tell him.”

Satoru knew from the get go that he should have apologized for crossing another boundary between you two but he couldn’t help it, it was in his nature already, he’s not exactly sure why he can’t even turn away like before anymore. Aside from the growing concern for you and the way you seem to generally just avoid him after those incidents, he’s stuck in limbo as always but he’s pretty sure, he’s in deeper if that was even possible.

He’s not exactly supposed to feel a lot of things regarding interpersonal relationships, it wasn’t exactly in his operandi and it wasn’t right for someone like him. In the end, he ends up thinking of protracted thoughts about you and how you seemed to have hurled every rule he has instilled to himself when it came to this marriage.

Not only did he end up eating his own words in the beginning. You had his life in your hands and that he ends up showing more of himself towards you than the myriads of people in his life that come and go. What’s even more astonishing was that he didn’t mind all of this at all. He seemed more than alright to put in the effort and put his best foot forward despite this rather confusicating relationship that you had both built.

He watches Itadori lay down on the ground, huffing out a sigh as he stares at the clouds above, “Hey Sensei…” he suddenly asked out loud, “...How come Y/N-san doesn’t go out that much?”

Satoru’s brow turns up at his choice of words, “What do you mean?”

“She’s always inside these days. Isn’t it boring?” he inquired, it didn’t come out as an insult but more so as genuine curiosity. It may have given the older man an idea as well. You’d never say no to Megumi whenever he asked for things and maybe, if he played his cards right, he can have you outside here when he and Yuuji are going to be having refreshments. Maybe steal a glance or two with how you were doing and hear you talk about how your days went.

“Maybe you should invite her out.” Satoru casually advised, leaning against the sakura tree, “I think she’s at the library now. She’s fond of reading a lot.”

The salmon-haired boy suddenly sits up, “But sensei…” his eyes narrow to slits at his teacher's words like he knew what he was planning, “Shouldn’t you be the one asking her?”

It seemed like this one was going to be harder to convince than Megumi.

“Yuuji,” he fakes a sigh, “I just want you to be close with Y/N. That’s all. She’s going to be around a lot especially if Megumi starts dragging you back here. It would be nice to get to know her.”

Truth be told, the reason why Itadori Yuuji can’t seem to stay long with you alone in the room is because Sukuna has been trying to pressure him to get him out for a while. Apparently, you reminded him of an old memory, one that he wants to check out for himself and see if it’s actually right. He’s not exactly crazy to say yes, of course. It’s just terribly bothersome how insistent the thing in his body is.

He’s not even entirely sure if he should tell his Sensei about it because he sounded too serious about it. By memory, Sukuna did not have the least bit of kind intentions, especially towards women and he’d definitely not want to hurt you at all so he tries to maintain his distance as well. Making sure to only meet you when he’s around his Sensei.

“That’s truly a shame, Sensei.” Itadori lays down again, pursing his lips together, he’s pretty sure he is being used as a patsy, right now. It doesn’t exactly escape his eyes last night that you weren’t even glancing back at his teacher, it could only mean one thing. A couple fight! Back in the day while his grandfather was still alive, he’d usually tell stories about how his grandmother kept ignoring him when they would squabble so he’s pretty sure you were doing the same thing too, “...But I think you’re just using me because you and Y/N-san are fighting.”

“Me? Y/N?” he laughs, “Fighting? Don’t joke around. We’re perfect!”

“My ji-chan says that obaasan wouldn’t talk to him when they’re fighting.” he deadpanned, not even giving him anymore room for excuses.

SIlence envelopes the pair for a brief moment, “Now there, Yuuji-” it seemed like Yuuji was more hyper aware regarding these things than Megumi and he wasn’t afraid to voice them out.

“I mean,” the young boy’s lips purse together, it would be safer to not see you alone, he’d make sure of it, “Maybe that’s why you and Y/N-san aren’t talking a lot. Ji-chan said he’d always try to fix it before it went bigger.”

Satoru knows he should probably try and approach you but it felt wrong if he did, he might end up fanning the flames and make it worse but Yuuji had a point with that as well, he couldn’t exactly keep ignoring the problem when it was violently waving at his face, “Fine.” he finally agrees, he couldn’t win this one, “I’ll go get her, you should ask Hana to prepare something for us.”

Yuuji’s lips turned to a large grin, sitting up so suddenly that he didn’t have that sort of responsibility anymore, “Good luck, Sensei!” he proclaimed, lifting his hand up and waving it like some madman.

The shaman ends up in front of the library they had at the far back, it’s one he hadn’t visited in a long time since he was barely home but he had heard from Hana that you frequented here a lot. The door clicks open and he’s greeted by the sound of silence and your faint cursed energy, you don’t seem to call him out about it nor did you immediately walk out of the room so he takes this as a sign of approval.

He quietly looks at the first row and sees you through the spaces on the shelves, your nose buried on the book. He presses his mouth to a thin line, thinking of what to say to you before carefully approaching you, “Satoru?” you uttered, your tone is soft unlike before, no anger or malice detected underneath it. Cutting his train of thoughts short when you shut the book and peer at him through the apertures of the shelves.

Satoru has grown to like the way you look at him, call him crazy but he’s noticed that you look at him differently these days despite the altercation that you two had and he’s rather fond of that tender look you give him, one that wasn’t laced with hostility nor emptiness. It’s a new thing for sure but he selfishly wants it all for himself.

“Hi.” he greets you back with the same energy.

“You’re home a lot these days.” you placed the book back on the shelf, taking a few steps forward while Satoru follows you on the other side, matching your pace and when you’re about to change aisles, he quickly strides next to you so that he could give you a closer look.

“I am.” he replied, “I haven’t seen you a lot, though.”

You subtly look away from him and try to switch your attention elsewhere, “Just busy.” you excused, “Not many servants around so I have to do some things by myself.”

“Would you like me to add-”

“No.” you exclaimed out loud, snapping your gaze back towards the white-haired shaman, “No.” you repeat, in a more meek tone, “Just…”

Satoru takes note of how sapped you seem to sound or the way that you subsequently avoid him like a plague these past few days as if your life had depended on it, so he takes in a quiet breath, trying to cherry-pick his words, “I’ll tell Hana to send some chamomile to you room tonight.” he cuts you short, “Try to take care of yourself, I know how hard those things were to heal in a day especially for you.”

You feel your grip tighten on the book, “Are you not going to ask about it again?”

“Are you going to tell me?” he throws the question back to you, walking closer until you’re only a few inches apart. There's another round of silence between you two which makes Satoru simply look away, realizing that he has created another complex situation, something he told himself not to do. He was, frankly, very terrible at developing good air between you two. If he’s honest with himself, social relationships with individuals like you are hard, he can’t read the room well so he’s not able to create a proper response.

He chews on the inside of his cheek, comprehending the situation he had just made along with the conclusion that you were never going to answer that question, just like the others, “Nevermind.” he continues, taking a step back, “I feel like I know your answer for this one.”

“Are you mad?”

“No,” he affirmed, still looking away from you when he realizes that the distance between you two would never close, that you’ll probably never look at him differently and that no matter what he did, he had to accept the fact that this is where he stood, “I don’t think I could ever get mad at you, Y/N.”

Satoru doesn't know why it bothers him when he’s given that abrupt realization, it’s one that he finds rather foreign since he has never experienced this sort of thing yet but then again, it might be because you’ve always been triggering different types of emotions on his part.

“Oh.” You feel your throat constrict at his words, “Okay.” your voice is mildly hoarse when you hear his words, your knees turn weak when you hear how easily he admits that.

“Go take some rest,” he says instead of inviting you out today, knowing that you seemed to need it more, “I’ll have Hana come in and send you something.”

He doesn’t exactly know why that anomalous feeling in his chest won’t seem to go away when you leave him alone in the room, why this feeling even worsens this time around despite you doing it so many times to him before.

Hana is always reminded of the beautiful things whenever she sees you, you could say that she has grown to idolize you quite a lot. Maybe it was because you had quite the motherly nature, one that she’s never experienced growing up and how you seem to be quite patient with her despite the little mistakes she’d commit since this was her first time to serve directly under a lady of a high clan.

She recalls the promise of you going so far as promising a better husband prospect for her since you’d be able to introduce her to better men of higher caliber but the young girl doesn’t seem to be as interested at the idea unlike before, she’s grown to like the estate and your presence by a milestone, how you seem to deliberately go out of your way to make sure everyone gets paid well and has the good working conditions or the way you’d join them for breakfast since the master wasn’t usually here.

She likes the regality you exuded and the eloquence you have, you were definitely someone she’d want to be when she grows older. As a woman, you were perfect and strong in her eyes. Something that she’d normally not see growing up.

“Y/N-san?” She was ordered by the master to bring some chamomile tea earlier. Another thing she found endearing was the silent and subtle gestures that the master and you had been doing. It was quite enchanting to see such a marriage unfold between her eyes, it was as if she was seeing something magical transpire before her eyes. She’s much sure that unlike most arranged marriages, this was going to end on a more positive note -- with cute kids and a more loving family.

You decided to retire early tonight and sadly hadn’t joined the master and his guest for dinner, “Hana?” you turn to her, a brush on your hand, “What have you got there?”

“Gojo-sama had me bring this.” She sheepishly disclosed, raising the silver tray with expensive chinaware carefully laid there, “He says it’s for you.”

She watches how your tenuous gaze returns to the mirror, “You could leave it there.”

Hana does as she’s ordered to but her attention shifts elsewhere as she’s preparing and pouring the tea to the cup, “Do you like romance novels, Y/N-san?” she suddenly inquires, grazing at the wide array of romance books that were stacked against one another.

You continue to brush your hair, “Not so much, why?”

“Oh, nothing…” she timidly shakes her head, returning to what she was doing, “I just...you have a lot of romance books…”

“You can have some if you’d like.” you nonchalantly comment, “I’m not particularly fond of them and they’d just collect dust there.”

“I-I could never…” The young girl stops what she’s doing, turning towards you and lowering her head, it would definitely be disrespectful if she had done that because those hardbound covers looked quite expensive, “Plus L/N-san…” her ears turn bright red due to embarrassment, “I-I can’t exactly read…” she stammered.

You stop whatever you were doing and turn towards her, the young girl continues to bow down to you, probably self-conscious about the sudden confession. Your lips pressed to a thin line, resting your head on your palm, “Would you like me to teach you then?”

Hana, at once, looks up and stares at your eyes, “Pardon me, Y/N-san?” she stands up erectly, raising her hand and waving it back and forth, “Oh, I-I shouldn’t my otosan, he would-”

You smile, placing one finger on top of your lip, “It’ll be our little secret, Hana.” You winked, “...Just like those little rumors you’ve done to help me, a worrying wife. It won’t harm anyone if you know how to read.”

Hana doesn’t know why her eyes seem to water at what you said, it was probably the genuinity of your tone or how you seemed to not mind taking some time off your busy schedule to teach some mere servant girl from a low clan to read. She clasps her hands together and starts fervently nodding towards you, “That...that would be very nice, Y/N-san…” she expressed in deep gratitude, “I’ll be sure to learn well.”

There are certain things you have to take note of when you wake up in the middle of the night after a bad dream, you’re more than likely in need to drink a lot of water or better yet, get out for some fresh air. The darker the dream, the more chances you’ll find yourself running out of your room barefooted towards the garden. There's something about it that felt very much comforting, it’s more than likely it gave you a sense of realism. That those were something just far off and not you actually, that despite inhibiting the bodies and experiencing the excruciating pain, it’s not you experiencing them.

Yet when you hurriedly slide your door open to get out after that rather daunting dream of a man not only maltreating his wife but forcing her to warm his bed, feeling the pain yourself and crying out for him to stop as he impels and degrades you while pumping his length in despite being an untouched woman. You find your husband going right out of his room as well, freshly out of the shower in his usual night wear. You inwardly let out some curses, you were too entranced and too deep in thought that you hadn’t even noticed your husband coming in late.

His blank gaze turns soft when it bores down on you, “Y/N?” he tenderly utters your name, the conversation you had at the library makes your heart sore for he continues to treat you well, maybe even cordially, as if you both didn’t seem to be on two different ends and you just hadn’t exploded right at his face. At moments like this, he seemed to act more like a husband than just a housemate who lived across your room, “Hey.” He greets you casually.

And it scared you a lot.

“Satoru.” you hesitantly greet him, not wanting to raise your voice since you know it might crack. The memory tonight has made you easily feel petrified for the longest time that you were too distressed to even try and formulate a proper excuse to get out of this conversation because that could’ve been you if you hadn’t forced your way to marry this man.

That could’ve been your life.

In more ways than one, you’ve been blessed to even end up with this man in front of you. People would often be happy that the worst things they’ve thought of the person would end up being the complete opposite.

“You good?” he inquired, slowly inching towards you.

You fervently nod in reply in order to try and appease him yet Gojo Satoru does the usual. He raises his hand, resting his palm on top of your cheek and softly rubs the side of your eye. It’s a gentle and warm action, like the man that appeared in your dreams a few nights ago, “You’re crying.” he murmured, it’s the first time he’s ever seen you cry, albeit it wasn’t much, whatever had terrorized you made you look unintentionally helpless, “Was it worse than the last time?”

“Ah.” you take a step back to get away from him and roughly wipe it away yourself, you force your body to look calm despite the tangled emotions in your mind, “Sorry, that was ill-bred of me-” you try to excuse yourself.

There were moments where you did stop and wonder why amongst all the people you’ve met and encountered, even shared your heart too, you end up showing Gojo Satoru almost all the sides of yourself that you never, ever wanted anyone else to see. It also baffles you that despite all this, he remains unfazed by it and he doesn’t even use it to his advantage, “Want me to stay on the floor again?” He cuts you short, ignoring your previous words and disregarding the fact that you two had quite the heavy conversation a while ago in the library.

“It’s fine, I…” You shake your head, you can’t even form a proper response. So instead, Satoru’s perceptive gaze drifted down to watch how your hands were trembling. It was more than enough reason for him to take a hold of it. His large and rough ones slowly intertwine on your sweaty and clammy ones. He ignores the sensation and remains quiet for a moment in the dimly lit hallway. His presence brings in something familiar. Just like that night in Sendai, one wherein you felt safe and that you were going to be okay.

“I won’t look down and check for it again.” Satoru’s forehead creases as he tries to find the right words to say, evidently just as lost as you, “Come on. Let’s get you to bed.” He slides the door open behind you while you trail behind him. It’s only now that he gets a good look of the room that is supposedly made for the both of you. You seemed to have ended up making it into your own personal one, with hints of lavender and vanilla essence residual in the air, a book shelf on the side that contained neatly cluttered books about what seemed to be old literature and botany, an out of place red plant, and a small jar of what seemed to be like packaged sweets on top of the small table next to the chair.

He finally lets go of your hand when you reach the large bed and starts to fix your side while you remain standing there behind him. The sour taste on your mouth is right there just as you watch him closely, “Satoru?” you call out.

You want to tell him, you want to rip it out of your system. You want to tell him so he can get away from you and stop whatever kind actions he continues to give you, “Hm?” he stops whatever he’s doing and he turns to face you with his calm and receptive gaze, hands clasping on your duvet. It’s silent once again.

Go on, your mind temptingly offers, go on and tell him.

You swallow down a nervous gulp, “I sleep better on the right.” you bite back your tongue from saying anything more.

In the end, you can’t let the words out of your mouth. A very hypocritical and selfish reaction on your side. You want one thing yet when he’s in front of you, treating you tenderly, something’s holding you back from confessing all your misdeeds and wrongdoings. Maybe it’s because you’re tired of those grueling nightmares that continue to haunt your sleep. maybe it’s also because of that same persistent feeling on your chest that won’t go away. Better yet, there’s a small part of you that doesn't want to see that look of betrayment when you tell him.

Satoru sits down on the left side and pats the side next to him, “Come on.”

You shuffled to your side and hesitantly took off your thin robe to reveal your usual nightwear, the scars have all but disappeared and remain just a memory.

The shaman, on the other hand, isn’t as fazed by this as before. Instead, he just waits for you to lay next to him and when you do crawl next to his side, you both lay there in quietude and under the soft comforts, hands resting on the side, not even touching each other, “You know,” you suddenly utter out loud, not even looking towards him, “I think you’re starting to become too nice.” you affirmed.

“Am I?”

“Yeah.” you turn to him, it’s only now that you notice the actual distance between you two. Your gaze trickles down his features, trying to pick it out one by one, “Sometimes I wish you remained the same.” you truthfully remarked.

Satoru tilts his head to your direction, mouth parting slightly, “Is it better for you that way?” and for the first time, he sees something unfamiliar in those eyes that used to gaze down so stoically at him.

“See.” you point out, your voice turns uncharacteristically soft, “You’re being nice again.”

He laughs at your comment, as if it was all just a joke, “Is this because we aren’t a normal couple and you want to find a good reason to spite me?”

“No.” your brows furrowed in deep thought as your husband turned to your side, now fully facing you, your faces so close to each other to the point where personal space seems to not even exist yet you both don’t seem to mind it, “It’s just… It’s different…”

“Good or bad?” There’s another wave of silence between the both of you as you try to articulate your thoughts but Satoru delicately places a finger in between your head, your eyes turning round at his actions, “You take too long to answer things, stop thinking too much when you’re around me.”

“You bought me for almost a billion along with some more incentives for my family.” you blink, unperturbed as you announce some of your thoughts, “I know that’s pocket change for you and pretty much nothing but I think I have every right to keep thinking about every step I have to take around you.”

“Right, you were pretty expensive.” he agrees, the memory of how much you cost and when they had told him did raise a brow in his part, “Is it too soon to make a joke that it was worth it though?”

You cock a brow at his response, “That’s the first time we’ve talked about this openly.” True to your words, you and Satoru had not exactly delved any deeper towards this topic, even seriously. It always seemed like a taboo one to converse about out loud. After all, if you looked at modern teachings, this was against numerous laws of human rights, even Satoru knew how nefarious it would seem to just buy someone like that yet you lived in a society that looked at women as inferior and did not follow that way of living, you just happened to be part of the unlucky census, human rights laws be damned.

“It is,” he mumbles, continuing to look at you, “We’ve got a lot to talk about, you know.”

“Yeah.” you somberly agreed, bottom lip between your teeth, too many, too much, “A lot…”

“But we don’t need to unpack that all tonight or tomorrow or next week.” He cooly responded, tucking one of his arms underneath his head to get comfy, “We’ve got our whole life together to figure that out.”

You continue to stare at your husband for a brief moment, the words of Sara slowly coming back to prod around in your head, in more ways than one, she was right and so was your mother, men often say one thing and they usually end up doing the opposite. The presumption of vows said in front of an altar and even love is sometimes not even enough for a man to stay loyal to his wife for feelings come and go along with the fidelity they try so hard to proclaim. What more with this one? Take away the agreement -- you’re nothing.

“Are you sure about not having a concubine or a mistress, then? You do know it’s not exactly illegal to have one if you’re really serious about that statement.” you doubted, there was also the problem with things like sexual pleasure, one you’re sure that your husband engages with. With how things are going on now, you didn’t exactly want to get involved with him in that way, as well.

“I don’t like strangers touching me.” he honestly replied, “Why do you think I kept my infinity up all the time?” There was obviously a story behind that, one that made his eyes turn quite despondent as if he was recalling a far-off memory.

“Yet I’m a stranger, aren’t I?” you assumed, recalling those times when you freely would put your arms around him, “You let me touch you so freely.”

“You’re my wife.” he corrects, brows upturned by your question and statement as if you had suddenly denoted something absurd, “We’ve been married for a year, don’t sell yourself short. We may have met on the wrong foot, it doesn’t change what we are.”

“Oh.”

He chuckles at your reply and how he has rendered you speechless yet again, it was fun to see you like this sometimes, it’s probably because he had always been the one who used to get the short end of the stick, “Yeah. Oh.” he quips, “Now let’s go to sleep.”

You slowly shift to the side, back turning against him and he does the same. You don’t even notice how there are tears suddenly welling up in your eyes.

When Satoru wakes up the next morning, he’s hit by something vaguely unfamiliar pressed on him. Better yet, one that’s lying on top of him and something his arm has a hold on. He blinks a couple of times to adjust his vision and slowly gazes down to find you, laying there on his chest, arm around his waist, along with your legs entangled on his, peacefully asleep.

It’s a rather domestic and normal scene for a couple that he has trouble even picking whether or not he should wake you up. After a few seconds of contemplation, he ends up doing the latter. Sleeping in didn’t sound like a bad thing today either since he did order Yuuji to rest after their heavy training session yesterday. So he remains there, carefully resting his hand on your waist, watching as you snuggle even closer and it's more than enough for him to shut his eyes again and go back to sleep.

taglist (had to remove ageless blogs sorry, i actually only noticed this now sike, if u wanna be back on the taglist, dont hesitate to send me a pm and tell me ur age <3)

;; @shokobuns ;; @aprosperlys ;; @menacanela ;; @shutuptenguu ;; @imuziawi ;; @senjuasuna ;; ;; @jjkdilfs ;; @kageyamakock ;; @pjofics ;; ;; @cowward ;; @tsumuuwu ;; @gojojogo ;; @fiona782 ;; @hinaamaya ;; @taihjj ;; @menacanela ;; @roione ;; @fyodors-crime ;; @kgojo ;; @archonssun ;; @gyubit17 ;; @cupieyeri ;; @enesitamor ;; @lavandula-stuff ;; @yuutaokkutsu ;; @rogueofbullshit;; @kiyoojima ;; @yeolmae-ssi ;; @daiawritss ;; @cosmeti ;;

#Jujutsu Kaisen #gojo satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojou x reader #gojo x reader #jjk angst #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #saturo x y/n #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen x reader #📝📝.minazuki mini series #tw.blood #tw.explicit murder #tw.pedophilia #tw.rape #tw.pregnancy #tw.child destruction #hostclub.adulting

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