#live laugh love nobamaki
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forced to angst, born to fluff
#live laugh love nobamaki#i love them your honor#they deserve to kiss each other#smooch smooch mwah#nobamaki#lesbians#sapphics#wlw#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#nobara kugisaki#maki zenin
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CHAPTER ONE: PUTATIVE SELF DEFENSE ❀ HIGURUMA SENSEI SERIES
masterlist link | mdni!
❀ putative self-defense.
when a person believes they are in imminent danger and acts in what they believe would be self-defense, when, in reality, the threat does not exist or is not as severe as perceived.
wc: 5.9K ❀ pairing for the series: professor!higuruma x student!reader
❀ summary.
after your roommate fails to replenish the coffee in your dorm room, you drag your insomniac ass towards the cafeteria before heading to your first criminal law class. unfortunately, things don't go as expected — it's so, so much worse than you could have anticipated. at least, your personal torturer is very good-looking, and has the most beautiful hooked nose you have ever seen.
❀ Tags and c/w.
non-curse au. college au. silly slow-burn rom-com between professor and college student (this is purely a work of fiction, okay guys?) reader is kind of a mess (like, literally). this is cliché with some twists. nobara is the best and worst roomie ever. nobamaki is a thing here. nobody likes cafeteria coffee. higuruma has a best friend, i'm so happy about that. second hand embarrassment. misunderstandings are talked through and resolved. higuruma is a little unhinged, and we love him for that.
thank you so much @redlikerozez for betaing this 🥺
Your morning was a clusterfuck.
Diving your face in ice cold water did absolutely nothing to wake you from your anxiety ridden all-nighter. The world felt like a half dazed hallucination by this point.
Your energy was running so low this morning that you wound up putting your jeans on top of your pajamas pants, throwing a coat over the rest of the mess, and twirling your hair into something that could barely be considered a bun, topping it all off with the ugliest scarf you had — a red polka-dot scarf.
It seemed to be a taunting from the Gods — this was, for some supernatural reason, the only scarf you ever found when you were running late, and you hated the thing, but feared that if you threw it away, some higher power would punish you, and you'd never find another scarf to wear.
You were also scared that if you tried taking a shower, you might end up sleeping under it.
"What are you doing?" your roommate asked, as you pulled your face from the bowl filled with water and ice cubes. "Jesus, you look like hell."
"Trying to crawl my way back to the world of the living. It's not working."
Nobara walked behind you and opened the mini-fridge, grabbing a single slice of cheese and rolling it up to eat it.
"Oh, a breakfast fit for the champions" you mocked, while patting your face with a tea towel.
She scoffed. "Get off my ass, I didn't have the time for groceries."
"Oh, you totally had the time, you just spent it all with your girlfriend in her room!"
Nobara grabbed a crumpled tissue that she found over the counter and threw it in your direction.
You dodged it because you weren’t sure what the fuck that tissue had been used for cleaning.
"Leave me the hell alone! I deserved it before classes started," she complained, pouting.
You laughed as you walked towards the coffee machine, to see if some liquid energy would be enough to pump you through the day.
"Aren't you supposed to be out there already? Weren't you going to head into criminal law today or whatever?" she asked.
And you were, actually.
"So, how is he?" you inquired, tapping around the coffee machine and behind it, looking for the coffee powder.
"Professor Higuruma, you mean?" Nobara got up and walked towards her bed, throwing herself over it like a rag doll. "I still haven't had class with him, but according to Maki, he's kinda weird."
"Your girlfriend's definition of weird for the male faculty members is too broad, Nobara. She said the same thing about at least four or five professors."
She shrugged. "According to gossip, professor Higuruma had to take some time off academia after his PhD because of a mental breakdown."
"Well, he is the guy that got two masters degrees simultaneously and one PhD right after. I guess that does things to a person" you mocked, opening the cabinet drawer. Where is the coffee?
"Oh, that's why he's the head of two chairs?!"
"Yup, Criminal Law and Criminal Procedure Law."
"Well, from what Maki has told me, he likes to quiz his students on the spot randomly," Nobara stated as she pulled her phone from her night stand and began texting.
After looking all around and not finding the coffee powder, you were very much annoyed.
"Nobara, where is the coffee?"
"We don't have any," she answered nonchalantly, still with her eyes glued to her phone.
You whipped your head towards her so fast, you nearly hurt your neck.
"Nobara, I need coffee. This is not a drill! It's my first criminal law class!"
"Oh, future criminal defense attorney, you definitely need some coffee, no one in their good mind would be wearing whatever the hell that is," she noted, pointing at you. "Especially that ugly red thing around your neck. Why do you still have that?"
"Ugh, now I'll have to go into the cafeteria before class to drink their awful coffee, and it's entirely your fault. Wardrobe editing rights are officially revoked!"
You stepped towards the door grabbing your bag as you heard her ask, "Hhey, is that your pajamas top?"
"No!" you replied, pulling your coat over your hello kitty pajamas top, before going out.
***
I can't fucking believe this.
You got in line to buy an overpriced $2 coffee — overpriced because it basically tasted like dirty water flavored with the souls of the damned — as you looked at your watch nearly every twenty seconds or so.
This coffee was so bad you usually tried to cover it up with milk, syrup and whatever else they had at their clients' disposal, but the aftertaste was always — always — completely cursed.
While in line, you noticed the guy who stood in front of you, and got distracted from your hurry by his back, as silly as that might sound.
He was tall — not the tallest, but at least a head above you — and his black hair was neatly cut by the tail end where his neck met his black suit collar. His posture was a little crooked to the side, one shoulder hanging a little lower than the other, and it felt kind of… charming?
Realizing you were nearly burning a hole in the man's back with your eyes, you averted your gaze elsewhere.
This is pathetic. I'm pathetic.
You figured that you had to be really sleep-deprived — and, honestly, kinda lonely — to be simping over some random guy's back.
Not only that, but while waiting in line at the campus cafeteria, the less sexy place to ever exist.
Class. I need coffee. I need to get to class. I'm pathetic. I’m also almost late.
And almost late you were. Somehow, you managed to wait just until you'd be a little too fumbled on the clock in order to get your ass out of your dorm room's bed to do something about it, and never even bothered to check if there would be any coffee to be made.
Just one of the many minor self-sabotaging shit you pulled against yourself from time to time.
After grabbing the damned drink and tainting it with further things to mask its terrible taste, your sleepless and nearly-late ass, when running across the cafeteria, body slammed by accident the same guy that was in line right in front of you. He was then covered in your coffee — an unholy concoction of said beverage, cold water, milk, and pancake syrup for sweetening.
Not only that, but to top it all off, you chuckled right after you began apologizing, actually laughing at the poor man.
It wasn't because the situation was even remotely funny, or that you were cackling at his humiliation. You just had the laughter response to stressful or embarrassing situations.
At church, during the national anthem, at an accident, or in the middle of a very hard test — whenever you were really stressed, you found yourself having to hold your urge to cackle.
Unfortunately, even after twenty-seven years, this was something you hadn’t quite mastered yet.
As you tried to grab some napkins from the counter behind him, you slipped, ceasing the laughter immediately.
Instant karma. Seems fair.
Before you hit the ground, though, he held you by your waist and with a hand on your arm. You felt the taut muscles under the suit enveloping you and pulling you back on your feet in one dexterous, swift motion. His shoulders were not slouched anymore.
"Shit, shit, I'm so sorry!" you exclaimed, trying to shuffle yourself away from him. His grip was tight, clearly from someone that had just been startled, and his body felt warm — especially considering you had just covered the poor guy in hot liquid.
As you parted yourself from him, you finally took a good look at the man.
The best words to describe him right now were disheveled mess. His tie was crumpled, his white button shirt had a massive brown stain from the coffee spilled, his short black hair was messily pulled back leaving a few strands out to frame his forehead, and his ashy black eyes were clearly surprised as he tried to check if you were alright.
And that beautiful hooked nose.
He was definitely brooding and good-looking — the tired, overworked, insomniac, bags under his eyes and two steps away from sleeping on his feet kind of good-looking.
The front certainly matches the back.
Then, realizing your mind was doing whirls about his appearance, you shook your head for a moment, dispersing the thoughts away.
"It's fine, just let me-" he answered, taping his hands around his suit, seemingly looking for something.
You had nearly forgotten you were tight on time until you heard the bell ringing. He turned around startled when it rang, cussing something under his breath, which gave you the perfect opportunity to dash away.
"I'm very sorry! I'm really late for my next class, I need to run, but I'm so, so sorry!" you blurted as you took off running, feeling a tinge of guilt knowing full well you had left him alone to fend off for himself with that abominable coffee stain.
So, why clusterfuck?
When you arrived in class, having lost yourself on campus twice when running around like a dizzy duck in a fatigued haze trying to find the right classroom, you saw who was sitting at the professor's desk in front of the entire classroom.
That huge coffee spill was pretty visible, even if he had now closed his suit jacket on top of it.
Shit.
The man was fumbling around with some papers over his desk with one hand while he adjusted his glasses — that he wasn't wearing earlier — with the other.
You sat in the back of the classroom, which had an amphitheater architecture to it. If you were lucky enough, though, maybe he wouldn't notice you.
However, upon further inspection, you noticed that the back of the class was especially empty, and realized at that moment you were standing out like a sore thumb.
This couldn't get any worse, could it?
You wished for a hole to appear right under your feet and drag you down.
"So, good morning to you all. I apologize for my late arrival. As you can all tell, I had to face some unforeseen circumstances," he began, pulling on the edge of his jacket suit to reveal the brown-colored Rorschach of shame plastered over his white shirt.
Some students laughed, and you recoiled in your seat, praying this was all just a first-day-in-class-embarrassment type of dream.
It wasn't.
"Welcome to Criminal Law I. My name is Higuruma Hiromi, and I'll be your professor. I hope you all can learn a thing or two from me," he said, before stepping in front of his desk and sitting over it.
"So, I'd like to begin this class with the following question: what is fairness?"
Some hands jumped up, and you slid yourself under your seat even further, surely to hit the ground if you sunk any deeper.
Higuruma's eyes began darting around the classroom.
Something you'd learn in a second about him was that he liked to poke at the students who didn't seem keen in participating, just to create some stormy engagement and get truly unexpected answers.
The ones who lifted their hands, the classic know-it-alls, were the students he considered to be remarkably boring and utterly predictable.
"You," he stated, and it took you a few seconds — and multiple blinks — to realize his finger was pointing in your direction. "Girl with the red scarf, tell me what you think fairness is."
You were at a complete loss for words.
"I… I… Fairness…"
Then silence.
You couldn't muster up anything to say to save your life.
You really should have slept better.
He sighed, and tilted his head to the side.
"Guess I'll have to demonstrate it."
Nobody understood what the professor meant, and much to everyone's surprise, he began walking up towards you, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he did so.
Then, looking straight at you, he stood beside the exit door, and gestured towards it.
"Girl with the red scarf, please, leave this classroom."
Before you could actually be offended that he didn't even ask your name, you felt your stomach drop, and your face glow a warm, deeply uncomfortable red.
Out of everything you thought could happen, getting kicked out of the classroom within the first five minutes into a lecture wasn’t even listed as one of the top 10 alternatives.
What the fuck? Isn't that a little excessive?
Speechless, you grabbed your backpack from the ground, and lifted yourself up, standing there for a few seconds, completely dumbfounded. The classroom was silent enough that a needle falling on the ground could be heard.
And then, suddenly, the urge came upon you, raining down like a hailstorm.
Laughter bubbled up your throat, and you coughed a little, pursing your lips shut, scrunching your face all around, trying to avoid any sound from leaking out.
He looked at you a little puzzled, and seemed to be wondering if you were about to have a stroke.
You began walking towards the door, but as you were about to cross it, he extended his arm in front of you, blocking your passageway.
"Stay there for a second."
"What?" you asked, coughing a little to shy the laughter away, and his face was once again briefly puzzled when he heard your voice.
A few seconds later, he softly shook off whatever thought that was, and resumed speaking.
"Is this fair? Asking a student to leave a classroom because they failed to answer an open-ended question?" he inquired the other students, waiting for someone to answer.
"N-no, it's not," some guy answered from the front.
Higuruma gestured for you to seat back where you were, and you clumsily stepped your way back, face flustered in utter and absolute embarrassment. This was definitely how bad it all could get. Is he dunking on me for spilling coffee on him and running? That's petty.
The man was certifiably insane. He was lucky to be so good-looking.
"And why it is not?" he proceeded with the questioning, slowly walking back towards the front of the class again.
"It would be excessive to do so," another student answered.
"Correct. Precisely that, it would be excessive," Higuruma chimed, sitting back over his desk, legs mildly spread as he opened his suit jacket and mindlessly smoothed out his tie with one of his hands. "Criminal Law isn't just about subsuming a person's actions to something the law has described as a crime, and then mechanically submitting said person to some randomly prescribed penalty. Fairness is the most vital and important theoretical foundation when studying criminal law. Not answering a question could be considered some type of in-class offense, sure, and expulsion from the classroom is one possible way to punish the deviant student, but it would be disproportionate and unreasonable to do so."
His gravely voice filled that classroom with no effort whatsoever, and it was an actually pretty good exposition.
It was one thing to describe what a sunset looks like, and another, very different, was to actually show one happening in real time. Words paled in comparison to the crimson, purplish sky engulfing the end of a day.
Most of your teachers, up until this point, had simply begun writing something on the white board at the start of each class, and made less than memorable remarks while spitting out the theory written in the recommended books list in the syllabus. So distant, so abstract, so… Detached from real life.
This was thought-provoking. This was enthralling. Well, this was the reason you enrolled in law school in the first place.
For a moment, you forgot this professor had just exercised his petty revenge on you, propping yourself up with trepidation. Your tiredness was completely forgotten as his monologue ensued.
He was the real deal.
"Fairness. It will be your guide to assess if a given penalty after a verdict is adequate or not, if someone who acted in self-defense should be found innocent or exceeded their rights in doing so… If the law itself is good enough as it is or should be subject to change, because a penalty might be too high for a seemingly innocuous offense that shouldn't even be a crime in the first place."
Higuruma paused for a moment to let his students simmer on his words.
"Fairness is the be-all and end-all of Criminal Law. I need everyone to understand this before we proceed, because fairness will be our primary lens in this classroom when studying the subject. So, can I trust that all of you understood what fairness looks like, rather than what it can be conceptualized as?"
He darted his eyes in your direction, and you saw yourself unconsciously nodding in acquiescence.
You were sure you caught a whiff of a smile on his face right before he resumed his introductory class of principles in criminal law.
***
“We are the only nerds that do this in the teacher’s lounge,” Higuruma stated, as he made his next move on the checkers board.
“You’re probably right,” Higuruma’s best friend replied in his pristine striped gray suit vest, as he thought for a second before making his own move and taking three consecutive pieces of Higuruma’s checkers as he did.
Higuruma groaned in response. Why does he always win on checkers? Goddammit.
“How are you so good at this, Kento? Let’s play chess, just so then I get to win” he complained, leaning back against his chair. “ I can see you winning this one in three moves.”
Nanami huffed. “Checkers was your idea. Besides, we both have our classes soon, there wouldn’t be enough time for a proper chess game.”
Higuruma removed his glasses and slid them inside one of his suit jacket’s inner pockets, brushing the tips of his fingers against his closed eyelids. He couldn’t catch a wink of rest the previous night, anxious to be back in a classroom after such a long time.
It all became very blurry, so he put his glasses back on.
Higuruma didn’t know if he was eager, nervous, happy or dreading this day.
Perhaps a mix of everything and then some.
“I needed something to wake me up. I’ve barely slept, and I’m in dire need of some coffee.”
“You could try drinking the coffee from the teacher’s lounge,” Nanami pointed out, gesturing his head in the direction of a creepy looking and unkempt thermal bottle. “I wouldn’t advise you on it, though. Only professor Ieiri has been brave enough to drink it so far.”
“I guess I’ll take my chances with the foul cafeteria coffee, I might survive that.”
Nanami smiled as he looked at his friend.
“You’re too overly dramatic.”
At that, Higuruma scoffed.
“And you’re too underly dramatic. That’s why I teach the passionate, great chair of Criminal Law, and you’re responsible for the boring, sleep-inducing chair of Commercial Law.”
“It pays the bills pretty well at my firm,” the other professor retorted.
Higuruma lifted an eyebrow, as if offended that Nanami thought that argument would dissuade him from his stance.
They were both silent for a moment before Nanami spoke again, noticing the deep eye bags on Higuruma's face.
“Are you having trouble sleeping?”
“No more than the usual,” Higuruma replied, shuffling on his chair, still focused on the checkers board.
Nanami lifted an inquisitive eyebrow, silent for a while, and Higuruma sighed.
“I mean it. I’m fine.”
Still a little unsure, Nanami nodded.
“Okay. Just reach out and come to my office if you need anything,” he offered, slight concern masked under the monotone of his voice.
“Aw, he likes me,” Higuruma playfully chanted. “So thoughtful of you, my dear.”
“Tsk, shut up,” Nanami scoffed as he got up, taking his neatly folded blazer on his bent arm, “and it’d take me two moves instead of three to have this victory over you.”
“Seriously?!” Higuruma exclaimed, glancing at the board. Upon further inspection, he realized his friend was right. “Shit.”
“Hiromi, go drink your coffee at once. You’re barely functional right now, there is absolutely no way you could teach a class in the state you’re in.”
“Kento, I could teach criminal law in my sleep,” Higuruma mused before lifting himself up. Nanami sighed as Higuruma exited the room.
***
This might be the worst coffee I’ve ever drank, Higuruma thought to himself as he put his cup over the counter and removed his glasses to pinch on his nose. It was all but a failed attempt to air out the foul taste of that watered down, sad excuse for a coffee.
He tried drinking it with nothing — no sugar, no milk, no sweetener, but this atrocity begged for anything to mask the old powder aftertaste.
After folding his glasses and throwing them in one of his suit’s inner pockets, Higuruma let out a heartfelt sigh, just hoping for things to go smoothly that day.
He'd have his hopes torn to shreds in seconds.
Some loud, hasty steps coming in his direction caught his attention, but as soon as he turned to face whoever that was, Higuruma was met with a hot splash all over his shirt and tie.
You have to be kidding me.
“Shit! I’m so sorry!”
He heard a female voice coming from the blurred face right in front of him. Her voice was what he’d call an unusually sweet — if worried — voice. It had a genuinely kind melodic quality to it.
Even if hasty, her words sounded like a heartfelt apology.
Then, she… chuckled?
Hm… What?
She seemed to lean over dramatically and grab something from behind his back.
However, on the way back with her arm, her body brushed against his in a worrying fashion, and Higuruma quickly realized she was about to fall. Even though he was over 24 hours sleepless, adrenaline and his reflexes kicked in, as he held her before she could hit the ground, pulling her against him to stand on her feet.
He was still somewhat disoriented from lack of sleep, and failed to realize his hand was still holding her arm intently before the woman squiggled away from his grip.
There was a red blurry thing under her also blurred face.
Only then did he realize he should probably see her face and talk to her properly about the debacle.
The professor said it was fine and began tapping around his suit, not remembering in which pocket exactly he threw his glasses in. However, before he found it, the bell that indicated the time for the first class rang, and Higuruma realized he had completely lost track of time.
"Fuck," first class and already running late.
The woman seemed to apologize and ran away, leaving him dumbfounded.
The professor finally managed to find his glasses, fishing them out of his pocket and putting them on, glad that his next class was at the building just around the corner.
He walked hastily towards it, and got there in less than a couple of minutes, seizing the opportunity to check on his state on the mirror as he entered the elevator.
The coffee stain was humongous and very evident on his white shirt, but he was glad that at least his black tie seemed to fend off fine from the beverage. As Higuruma passed his fingers over the fabric of both pieces, however, it was somewhat sticky.
He let out a disheartened sigh, stepping out on the corridor and into the classroom, placing his briefcase on the side of his desk.
Now, what will I teach these people today?
Hiromi began ruffling around his papers trying to find the course syllabus, and realized he hadn't brought it with him. These papers were nothing but useless administrative shenanigans, so he decided to wing it in any way he could to illustrate criminal law for the students.
The thing is, how can you effectively grab someone's attention when it's 7 o'clock in the morning, and most people are completely hungover?
With adrenaline, of course.
***
The rest of the class went on without a hiccup, and you had made much more notes than you anticipated you would. His voice had a weird calming and focusing effect on you, as much as you hated admitting it — also, it wasn't so hard accompanying him walking around making his exposition when his face looked like that.
However, you decided you'd talk to him, first off because it would be incredibly uncomfortable to keep going to both of his classes for six months without ever addressing the coffee faux pas, and second because you had just been victimized by the pettiest revenge known to mankind by a college professor.
You kind of deserved it, but still. It was pretty immature, even if he was Dr. Genius who just taught the best class you had ever seen in your life.
"So, students, we'll have a quick test this week," Higuruma stated, "the Dean has requested that all professors use these to assess your knowledge every month, and I'd like to get this over with as soon as possible."
Many sighs and displeased grunts could be heard around the classroom. He leaned over his desk as he sat, putting his papers away in his briefcase.
"I know, I don't like it either, but at least you'll only need to study a week's worth of content, not a month."
Some hm, fine, ugh, were uttered by the students as they left the classroom. You walked hesitantly behind them all, waiting for everyone to leave before you could speak to him alone.
You were already going to be remembered as the girl mock expelled from the classroom. No one needed to know you also had assaulted their professor with a desecrated cup of coffee before that.
As you stepped in front of his desk, he lifted his gaze to meet yours.
"Yes?"
Something you hadn't anticipated was that looking at him — and his hooked nose — up close like this would jumble your thoughts around.
Oh, shit. He's handsome.
Dumbified, you spat out the first thing you could think of.
"So, professor, I'm the student you fake expelled earlier," you stated, realizing he obviously already knew that.
Brilliant. Off to a great start.
Higuruma nodded, feeling something prickling at the back of his brain as he heard your voice for a second time.
"What did you think? Was it a good way to convey this class motif?" he asked, finally closing his briefcase and putting it on the ground, completely ignoring the fact that it was probably an uncomfortable experience for all of the people involved, especially you.
You were a little incredulous at how oblivious he seemed to be, and it annoyed you. Was this out of good heart, or was he playing dumb?
"It was a good exposition, professor, but I wanted to talk about something else," you answered.
“5000 yen.”
“... What?”
“That’s my law firm’s hourly fee.”
You stood silent. He chuckled a little, shrugging back.
“I’m joking. I don’t even have a practice. Tell me what you need.”
Is this guy for real?
You cleared your throat before continuing.
“It felt horrible to be on the spot like that out of nowhere, without any knowledge as to what was going on.”
After blurting it out, you braced yourself, knowing full well by now that professors were usually pretty big ego'd kind of people. Nonetheless, this had to be said, at least for the sake of the next student he decided to torture with one of his experiments.
He looked at you with wide eyes, and seemed to ponder for a moment.
“Oh, I see. My apologies,” Higuruma offered in earnest, while his face softened.
You were very surprised.
“Oh, okay," you mumbled as you scratched the back of your neck, "I accept your apology. But maybe you should really give the student a heads-up next time you intend to do that.”
“That would presume I consider that students are people, and not minions to torture.”
Uh?
“Also a joke.”
“You’re not very good with those.”
Did I say that out loud?
He simply stared surprised at you, seemingly a little shocked.
I did say it out loud.
"Fuck."
And that too.
After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, Higuruma suddenly chuckled, much to your surprise. Your eyes widened, and you stared at him, extremely confused as to what was up with this guy.
“You're a sincere person," he noted, and you shrugged hesitantly.
Higuruma was definitely amused at this exchange.
He then proceeded.
"Being sincere is good, but my best friend always warns me to try keeping it to myself most of the time. I don’t listen, of course, but maybe you should for now. People get offended easily.”
His exposition made you feel a little less out of place — and less alone, for what it was worth. You instantly remembered your parents used to chide you for blurting out things like that out of nowhere, instead of keeping them in your head like other people do, according to them.
You didn't realize you were smiling as you mindlessly opened your coat.
He took notice of your shirt, and began slowly realizing there was something off about it.
"Is that usual?" you asked, out of the blue.
He shook his head, being pulled out of his head. "What?"
"The mock expulsion?"
"Heavens, no."
"Then, why?" you inquired.
He rubbed his face with his hands.
"Because I needed something to wake mine and everybody else's brain up. Classes shouldn't be this early, and I didn't get a wink of sleep last night."
Higuruma was still out of sorts, spilling the tea of his insomniac state to one of his random students whom he had just met.
"Oh, me neither!" you told him, also absentmindedly, on a stream of consciousness rant towards a professor you were talking to for the first time. "Classes should start after noon, at the very least…"
"I know, right? Some things shouldn't be a crime, but making people wake up this early for class definitely ought to be."
You laughed softly, and you both kept silent for a moment, before you remembered what you thought was the reason for the mock punishment.
"Oh, professor… I'm sorry about the coffee."
He was confused for a few moments before broadening his eyes as he finally realized it.
No wonder Higuruma felt like he recognized your voice from somewhere, and now he took a good look at the red smudge he had seen earlier under what he figured was your face.
It was the ugliest scarf he had ever seen.
"I came here wanting to ask if you had done the fake expulsion thing as some sort of…" you sighed, a little ashamed. "Well, I'd like to apologize for staining your clothes, and offer to get you new ones, or at least pay for your laundry fee if needed."
He lifted one eyebrow at you before he resumed speaking.
"I didn't catch your face then. I mean, I didn't recognize you at all," Higuruma answered, "so no. But I'd never… Well, you barely know me, so you wouldn't know, but my opinion on the matter is that professors that exert selfish vendettas against students, for whatever reason, are absolute fools."
"You didn't recognize me? Say what now?"
He pointed at his glasses, and you finally understood completely how all of this petty revenge narrative was entirely in your head.
"I-I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to-"
"It's okay."
"But still…"
He sighed.
"It was a possibility, given how things in a college setting usually go, but that is why we investigate things further before prosecuting, right? A narrative might make a lot of sense, up until you confront it with the gathered evidence."
You joined your hands in front of you, embarrassed.
"Yes, I guess so," you answered, "but please, let me at least pay to get your clothes cleaned."
The professor shook his head.
"Absolutely not. You're an undergraduate student. I've been one, I'm quite aware of the financial hardships most of you endure as I've struggled with them myself not so long ago."
Even though you felt somewhat uncomfortable about not evening things out, he was right. This money would be fairly missed — you were already missing the $2 worth of coffee you didn't manage to drink.
"It was an accident, you didn't cover me with your beverage intentionally. Also, you had to leave because you were late for my class," he paused, "and I'm actually flattered you'd leave someone to fend off for themselves against that foul cafeteria coffee just to run to one of my classes."
You chuckled a little, and he proceeded.
"So, it's okay. You don't have to pay me for anything. This is fine."
You sighed, truly relieved, and he was glad you came to talk to him and properly apologize for the blunder.
"Thank you for your time and kindness, professor. I hope you have a good day."
He bowed his head slightly.
"Same to you."
However, something was still scratching at the back of his mind.
"Hm, hey… since we are on the topic of clothing and I just let you off the hook on paying for my dry cleaning…" Higuruma said, and you stopped midway towards the door, turning to face him.
"This might be an odd question, but I'm very curious."
"Hm… what is it?"
He pointed at your sleeping shirt, now evident under the open coat.
"Are those pajamas?"
You immediately pulled your coat over your hello kitty top, lifting one eyebrow in pathetic defiance.
"Of course… not?"
Higuruma thought to himself that you were turning into one of the most unique students he ever had.
"Do you intend to be an attorney?"
"... yes?" You answered, with some suspicion.
He huffed.
"Then improve your lying game for Court. You can do your crazy, but defend it as if it was the utmost truth in the universe, okay?"
Higuruma couldn't quite explain it, but this conversation with you was strangely amusing.
Maybe going back to the classroom wouldn't be so difficult after all, if even half of his students were a little out of sorts like this.
"... Okay," you replied, removing your hand and letting your pathetic sanrio pajamas shirt show once again.
"So, are those pajamas?" he inquired again, more incisively.
You straightened yourself and made a fake serious expression.
"Of course not."
"Much better," Higuruma answered with an actual smile.
The way his cheek creased around his mouth was weirdly charming, just as most things about him, it seemed.
Trying not to stare, you smiled back at Higuruma and turned around, leaving for your next class with heat prickling against your cheeks.
Tag list:
@arusearu @yammy-yammy-yama @markleeisdabestdrug @redlikerozez @delirious-donna
@alwaysfreakingout @murderofravens @senseifupa @higurumapet @cindyneko-strider
@ohhheymessa @actuallysaiyan @bigbaddulce
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jjk fanfic#jjk higuruma#higuruma hiromi#higuruma x reader#jjk imagines#jujutsu kaisen higuruma#hiromi higuruma x reader#higuruma#higuruma hiromi x reader#jjk hiromi#hiromi x reader#hiromi jjk#hiromi x you#higuruma hiromi x you#hiromi x y/n#higuruma x y/n#higuruma x you#jjk x reader fluff#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jujutsu x reader
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nobamaki + 59 for the ask game 👀
59. earl grey tea by griff
you guys really keep picking the depressing songs, huh? (<- ignoring that these are my most played songs for the year which says a lot more about me than it does about the people who sent these asks)
‘cause i’m slipping away by the second
so aren’t you gonna save me too?
word count: 573 || major jjk manga spoilers
Nobara lives in the in-betweens - a life in snapshots of consciousness, blurred by the loss of an eye and muffled by the loss of an ear. The scent of cigarette smoke, a hand against her forehead, the smile of a girl she doesn’t know, bandages heavy against the left side of her face. Life slips in and out of reach, and consciousness only brings searing pain.
“Shoko-san says you can pull through if you’re stubborn enough,” a voice whispers. Nobara’s ears are cotton-stuffed and barely working, but she knows the voice belongs to Maki.
“I’ve never met anyone more stubborn than you are. So pull through for me, alright?”
Nobara tries to respond, tries to open her mouth even if only to laugh, or reach out a hand for Maki to take in hers. But she can’t even lift her one remaining eyelid.
Pull through for me, alright?
(By the time Nobara’s eye listens to her, Maki is gone.)
The room is empty, dark except for moonlight filtering in through the window. And Nobara is sure the world is entirely in disarray, she’s sure her friends have better things to do than wait around for her to heal.
But selfishly, she wishes Maki could stay.
She wishes this were some dumb romance movie where the love interest stays by the main character’s side throughout their entire hospital stay, holding their hand like a lifeline, refusing to move for fear of losing their love. She wishes Maki stayed.
She slips back into darkness.
A laugh, lips against the back of her hand, Ieiri’s concerned expression, a whiff of lavender. This is how Nobara lives: never conscious long enough to grasp reality and make it her own again.
Perpetually slipping away.
“I have to go,” Maki tells her.
Nobara reaches out, and Maki catches her hand.
“I’m sorry.”
Stay, Nobara tries to plead. Stay with me. Guide me back to life. I need you.
“I’ll be back,” she promises. “I’m just going to collect some cursed tools. It won’t take more than a day, and then I’ll come straight back here, alright?”
Nobara understands - she does. But she has always been selfish, and she wants the rest of the world to just stop. Maki shouldn’t have to save them; she should be able to stay here and help Nobara.
Consciousness seems to flicker strongest when Maki is nearby. Nobara latches onto her voice, but she never stays long enough to lead Nobara fully into the land of the living.
By the time Nobara manages to pry her eye open, Maki is always gone. And Nobara has used up all her energy trying to catch sight of the only constant since she was sure she would die.
(Maybe she is dead. Maybe that’s why Maki never stays.)
(Somehow, she knows that isn’t the case. She knows she is trapped halfway between life and death, and Maki still walks amongst the living.)
Nobara knows the world needs saving, and she knows Maki is strong enough to save it. But she wishes things were different.
She wishes she could be Maki’s world - that their world could be each other. The two of them, touring the biggest malls in Japan, video calling their friends to show their best finds, sharing ice cream sundaes and bubble tea. She wishes—
She wishes she weren’t slipping away, fighting a losing battle, hinging her life on someone who cannot stay to save her.
#fun fact: this is 100% a s.atosugu song and i wrote a s.tsg poem based off it for a class this semester#which probably gave it a boost in the stats since i looped it while writing the poem kshdgskjh#anyway ty for the ask and i hope you enjoy <333#nobamaki#jjk#nobara kugisaki#maki zenin#jujutsu kaisen#nobara x maki#fanfic#jjk spoilers#grace's writing tag#ask game#dahl tag
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milfyuki 4 eva !!! but fr tho i wonder what yuki was like before her milformation/transformilfation and what exactly did spur this all on (mommy issues??????) (im so proud of my creation, i think, maybe, who knows!)
todo was like the starting point and nobamaki were the ones that made the whole transformation i think and then after that its free reign at her house
(part 2 of the series: "oh ya the apartment is like a super secret secure place !!"
part 3: "toge mixed food dye with the shampoo and the 3rd tv broke")
i am so invested and entertained by your writing and i rly hope u can tell
satoru having a midlife crisis abt adulthood felt real (a little too real to the point where ngl i felt attacked too....everything okay???!?!?!?) but at the same time sir??? are u okay??? ( i love it when writers make satoru depressed but like the humor coping type i just love angst i love it so much pls hurt me more i love crying over fictional characters )
aoi's sister on her way to turn tsumiki apeshit i will always live for!! nobara just like me fr she would rather go thru a full on elaborate plan involving vandalism shit rather than doing her homework we love a relatable queen i hate homework too
i am so invested and entertained by your writing and i rly hope u can tell
MAN sdjfdsjhs I think about Yuki a lot. I think about Yuki every day, she's just always spinning in my brain like a rotisserie chicken I love her, I do wonder why she decided to randomly take in a boy she saw fighting on the side of the road, like??? She's so ridiculous, she's so shady, she's so funny, she could kill everyone (probably), she contains multitudes. Anyways. I have a lot of very specific headcanons about her backstory I'm sure one day I'll write them down lmao. They don't involve mommy issues but now you've given me even more stuff to think about...
This ask is absolutely taking me out skdhfsk you're so funny anon. The contrast between all 3 parts of the series is honestly one of my favorite things ever, idk what was I thinking. And I'm really glad you're invested!! :D
Poor Gojo lmfao, maybe I was projecting on him when I wrote that scene honestly, I'm still not sure, and humorous angst always hits different... Also not you calling Nobara "Aoi's sister" I'm going to scream they're the weirdest family ever :) Unfortunately for everyone involved (except us because we will be entertained), Nobara will continue to be a menace hehe.... Thanks for this ask, it made me laugh a lot!
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{ JJK OC lore, past shiunao, nobamaki, tw: mention of suicide attempt, tw: alcohol mention, 890 words }
Part 2
Part 1
Naomi knew from a young age that she was adopted. Nobara and Maki had made sure that she was aware of that fact, and that it wasn’t a big deal. Sure, there had been moments when she wished she didn’t have to deal with her adoptive mothers. She had quite the rebellious phase, screaming that she wanted to go back with her “real” parents, while crying about being abandoned because she was worthless and unloved.
Maki couldn’t tell her about her parents; she didn’t know who they were. She simply found a crying baby in the middle of freshly slain bodies, with nothing but a gold name tag bracelet around her wrist and a stuffed rabbit in her crib.
But as Naomi grew older and reached the age of eight, Maki couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling she’d get when Naomi would look at her through her eyelashes, yellow upturned almond-shaped eyes taunting her memories.
And that shit-eating grin — god, she hated to feel this way about her daughter — but really, even the inflexions of her little voice screamed she was /his/ child.
Wondering who the other parent could be wasn’t even on Maki’s mind; Naomi had taken after /him/ in every way.
Except she wasn’t mean, or cruel, or devoid of empathy. She had an attitude, but she used it to uplift others. She used her strength to protect those who needed it — as much as grade-schoolers could need it. She was the one who broke fights and made sure the bullies would never forget about the beating she’d give them.
Now, the more Maki looked at Naomi, the more she saw Nobara in her. Yellow eyes would still catch her off-guard every once in a while, but a wide, toothy grin would always follow.
Naomi wasn’t moved by the need to find her biological parents, but Maki eventually told her who she thought one of them was, that they didn’t have the best relationship, and that he was long dead. The mystery didn’t eat at Naomi, or if it did, she didn’t let it show. Soon she was entering Jujutsu Tech, and all her thoughts were focused on training to become stronger and perfect her technique.
Of course, she had inherited superhuman speed.
She met Kenshiro Nanami during her second year; he was her underclassman. They immediately clicked and began dating.
She had just turned twenty when she ended up in some bar she’d gone to a few times with her boyfriend. Kenshiro was hanging out with his former sorcery school classmates, enjoying some drunken conversation and pretending to be a part of the regular, unknowing human society. Naomi strayed away from them for a while to escape the noise and get another drink. As she walked up to the counter, a man almost fell off his bar stool, crashing against Naomi and spilling some of his beer on her.
He apologized profusely, getting lost in his rambling until his hazy eyes met Naomi’s face.
The middle-aged man with short graying hair that was longer on top and a thin mustache almost lost among a sloppily-shaven stubble stared hard. Naomi was ready to snap that she wasn’t single nor interested, but those reddened and teary eyes weren’t looking at her with lust or some dirty intentions.
“Are you a ghost?” He asked, and she laughed.
He apologized again, but Naomi cut him off.
“Why are you saying that?”
The drunk man then proceeded to tell her about his partner who had eyes just like Naomi’s and their baby he never got to meet. How he’d been told they had died in childbirth twenty years ago. How he never got to see their bodies. How he tried to kill himself. How he had since lived in the apartment provided by his “father-in-law”, because it was free, and rent in Tokyo was crazy, and he spent all his money on gambling and drinking himself to death. How he would never love again.
They kept talking for a while. Well, he talked and she asked questions and listened. It was like he’d been dying to tell his story to anyone.
Eventually, he referred to the Zenin clan, and Naomi’s heart sank.
“What was your partner’s name?” She asked, and got the answer she was anxiously expecting.
It took her a lot to control her shaking when she texted Kenshiro that she was tired and was going home. She helped the drunk man get to his feet and asked him where he lived.
When he realized she was leading him to a taxi, he slurred “You don’t have to. You don’t even know me.”
She was tempted to reveal everything to him, to tell him her name, but she knew this wasn’t the right time.
“You can’t even stand, are you gonna crawl back home?”
And he laughed.
After a couple of minutes in the taxi, and before he fell asleep, she asked for his number.
“Why?” He asked. “You said…”
“I thought we could be friends.”
It was only a half lie.
He stammered his number, getting it wrong several times, but eventually Naomi managed to send him a text he’d only notice the next morning when he woke up in his bed entirely dressed.
*I’ll call you tomorrow. Hope the hangover will have worn off.
Signed: The ghost ;)*
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nobamaki week 2021 - day 1: first kiss
833 words // no tw // nobara x maki
“What was is you needed, Maki-san? Sorry I didn't see your text, Yuuji and I were having a little spa day.” Nobara says, poking her head through the door.
“Oh? It was nothing, I was just wondering if you wanted to spar together.” Maki says turning away. But Noabara watches Maki’s hands ball into fists, and she knows it was not ‘nothing’.
“Hmm, ok.” Nobara slips into the room.
“You don’t have to stay. You can go back to your friends.”
“But I want to stay.” Nobara sees Maki’s shoulders untense, watching the way she can see Maki’s muscles in a tank top.
“Hmm, ok.” Maki says, mimicking Nobara’s earlier statement. Nobara brightens as she hears the smile in Maki’s voice.
Walking over to the desk, Nobara leans against it, looking at Maki. She looks at the way Maki’s hair curls around her face. How her glasses bring out the colors in her eyes. How a beautiful smile that adorns her face makes her lips look just so kissable. And a warmth fills Nobara’s chest at the thought that she put that beautiful smile on that beautiful face.
“Hey Maki-san,”
“Yeah?”
“You’re beautiful.”
“Thank you,” Maki says, not a stutter in her voice, perfect like always. But the tips of her ears and checks dust pink, and Nobara smiles.
“You’re perfect.”
“Thank you,”
“You’re so smart.”
“Thank-”
“You’re amazing.”
“Tha-”
“You’re a living goddess.”
“Th-”
“You're-”
“Enough with the flattery Nobara, what are you trying to do? What do you want?” Maki cuts off, voice tight and face red.
“To let you know that you are loved.”
“L-loved? What are you saying?” at this Maki’s voice does crack.
“That someone loves you.”
“Yes, I gathered that. But why does this sound so much like a confession?”
“Do you want it to be one?”
“What are you saying Nobara?”
“Do you want it to be one, Maki-san?”
“Nobara-”
“Maki-san-”
“What do you-” Maki starts.
“Can I kiss you?” Nobara says cutting off Maki.
Maki stays silent for a minute, shock painted clearly across her face. Nobara waits a minute, before she pushes herself off the desk making a move to leave, understanding her advances have been denied. A hand reaches out and wraps around her wrist. Wait, it says.
“Yes,” Maki breathes out.
Nobara leans back on the desk and looks at Maki.
“Are you sure? I don't want to force you to do something just because of my feelings.”
Maki laughs.
“That's what you think this is? Pity? Please Nobara, I would never. And besides I was hoping you genuinely meant it. Use that smart brain of yours to figure out what that means.” Maki says, leaning in. “May I?”
“Please,” Nobara says breathlessly, closing the gap.
A burst of colors explode behind Nobara’s eyelids as her lips meet Maki’s. A symphony of every beautiful noise could not compare to the feeling Maki is causing her right now. Nobara feels like she’s floating, untethered to her body, her soul touching the stars. But she doesn’t have to imagine what a star feels like, for she could simply reach out and cup Maki’s face to find out what that feels like. And so she does. Nobara moves her hands from where they are clasping Maki’s own, up to where Maki’s face is. She lets her hands guide her, keeping her eyes closed. Calloused palms slide up bare arms. A pair of hands move to hold her firm by the small of her back, and Nobara lets out a small gasp when the hands pull her forward into Maki’s lap. As her hands reach a pair of strong, steady shoulders, Nobara lets her hands still, basking in the moment. But when Maki leans forward, pressing into her, those hands tightening, Nobara lets her hands travel upwards again. A neck taut with nervousness, a strong carved jaw, and finally the warm face of a star. The need for air itches at her lungs, and so Nobara recently pulls away.
Gasping, she settles back against the desk again, this time while in Maki’s lap. Her hands drop down from Maki’s face. Nobara glances at her and enjoys the look on Maki’s face that she caused. The wide eyes, the dilated pupils, the flushed face, the red lips, and the pure happiness glow.
“Was- was that ok?” Nobara asks, watching Maki come back down from the high she was riding.
“Amazing. You're amazing.” Maki says, reusing Nobara’s earlier statement.
“And so are you,”
“I love you- I mean! I like you Nobara Kugisaki, I have a crush on you. Please go out with me!” Maki blurts, face darkening at the slip up.
“I love you too, Maki-san.” Nobara whispers, the ends of her mouth curling upwards, face flushing red.
Reaching up a hand to cup Maki’s face again, Noabara looks at the love of her life. Turning her head, Maki presses a kiss into the palm of her hand, and Nobara dissolves into a blissful, blushing, gay mess.
#toad talks#toad writes#grayson’s gibberish#nobamaki week#nobamaki#nobara x maki#kugisaki nobara#maki zenin#My writing#my fic#jjk#jujutsu kaisen
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nobamaki week 2021 - day 4: soulmate au
1332 words // no tw // nobara x maki, bonus yuuji x megumi
Maki stands waiting outside the bathroom, her foot tapping away on the ground. God what was taking those first years so long? She thought, irritation itching at her skin.
Giggling was heard behind the door, before it burst open and Nobara and Yuuji spilled out from the bathroom. The pair wore matching masks, it apparent that they were having yet another spa day.
“Sorry for the wait, Maki-san! I hope it wasn’t too long!” Nobara cries joyfully as she and Yuuji make their way down the hall.
Maki sighs. It was a rather long wait, but how can she be mad at Nobara. How could she ever be mad at Nobara? Shaking her head, Maki walks into the bathroom, lost in thought. Why did Nobara Kugisaki have this charm to her that affected Maki just so? How could she never say no to that first year? Just what about her made Maki tick? How had she found a place in Maki’s heart so quickly? Maki lets out another sigh before looking at herself in the bathroom mirror.
Her blank eyes and unblemished skin stare back at her. Maki doesn’t know whether or not to celebrate her unmarked skin. No mark means she hasn’t met her soulmate, meaning no one will be sad if she dies during her duty as a jujutsu sorcerer. But on the other hand no mark equals no soulmate, and that left a empty space in her heart. Why did this soulmate bullshit have to complicate her life as a jujutsu sorcerer so much?
From a young age Maki had taught herself not to touch people as to avoid finding her soulmate, and inevitably messing up her plan of destroying the Zenin Clan. But sometimes she let her needs overtake her drive and she yearned to find her soulmate. To feel the telltale burn of your soulmate touching your skin for the first time. To see the bold and definite handprint of your lover upon your skin. But Maki couldn’t let love interfere with her grand plan, so she always told people to avoid touch with her as to not accidentally find her soulmate. Mumbling to herself, Maki leans down and splashes her face with water, clearing her head, before getting ready for the day.
A few hours later, Maki sits on the steps outside, catching her breath during a break in training. Suddenly something cold and wet taps against her forehead. Peeling her eyes open, Maki sees Nobara pressing a juice can to her forehead with a smile.
“Thirsty?” she asks.
“Thanks,” Maki says, taking the can while making sure not to touch Nobara’s fingers.
“No problem,” Nobara hums, before sitting down with her own drink.
When Maki and Nobara first met, Maki told her about preferring no touching and Nobara took it well. Unfortunately Nobara was a very touchy-feely person, but she said she could work around that for the sake of Maki. And so Nobara came up with the idea of when she touched Maki it had to be with something in her hand, and never skin to skin. So whenever Nobara was handing something to Maki she would nudge Maki with the object and would leave enough room for Maki to grab the object without touching Nobara’s fingers. And just like that, Maki who had lived without touch for all her life, now had this unrelenting pressing at all her sides now. But it wasn’t unfavorable Maki discovered.
Glancing over at Nobara, Maki sees a strand of hair that slipped out of her ponytail, and Maki’s fingers itch to tuck it back like they never have before. Clenching her first, Maki knocks back the drink, scolding herself. Come on Maki! You told Nobara you don’t like intimate physical contact and now here you are wanting to touch her!! Stop!!
“Hey, Maki-san, are you okay? You’re really quiet.” Nobara asks, setting down her drink.
No. “Yes,” Maki says through gritted teeth.
“Hhmm well it doesn’t seem that way. Do you wanna talk about it?”
“…no,”
“Okay,”
“…”
“…”
“Well actually-“ Maki cuts herself off when she sees the smirk on Nobara’s face. “What?” she snaps.
“Nothing, nothing.” Nobara laughs. “You’re just very predictable.”
Predictable my ass, Maki thinks. I’ll show her predictable.
And with that Maki reaches over to tuck back Nobara’s hair.
But before she can reach it, Nobara jerks her head back, out of Maki’s reach.
“Maki-!”
“I bet you weren’t expecting that, huh?”
“But Maki! Your soulmate thing! And-and your plans for the Zenin Clan!”
“Screw the Zenin Clan.”
“Yeah that’s the point! But what I’m trying to say is wh-what if I mess up your plans by touching you?”
“But I’m touching you.”
“Not the point! I don’t want to mess up your plans you’ve been making all your life just over my own wants!”
“Nobara Kugisaki listen to me, it is my choice if I want to touch you and accept the reactions. It’s your decision if you are comfortable with it. And you could never mess up my plans, not you, never you.”
Nobara swallows her thoughts, Maki’s words stopping her in her tracks.
“W-what are you saying?” she asks, fully knowing what Maki means.
“I’m saying I want to touch you, only if you’ll allow it.”
“Y-yes.”
Steeling herself, Maki reaches out and lets her fingers brush back Nobara’s hair. It feels just like her own hair yet so so different. It’s sun warmed grass on a summer day and treads of silk at the same time. It’s the softest thing she’s ever felt and something that’s never hurt more. It’s the dying warmth of a star and the rumble of thunder and the sweet taste of sugar all at once. It’s such a overwhelming feeling that she almost pulls back, but Maki pushes forward. She lets her finger tips and then knuckles brush against Nobara’s cheek. Lets the tingle of physical touch linger, and welcomes the unfamiliar sensations. Maki’s eyes widen as she watches a dark patch bloom onto Nobara’s skin, as the girl flinches. Maki’s head spins as she realizes the mark is showing up where she touched Nobara. “Oh god, oh god, oh god,” Nobara breathes as the mark burns her face.
“Oh no, Nobara, I’m so sor-”
“No, don’t apologize. I said yes, I agreed to this. If anything I should apologize, I’ve messed up your plans.”
“Screw the pl-“
“No! Dont finish that sentence. I dare you.” Nobara seethes, eyes practically slits from anger.
Maki lets her hand drop, as her face flushes with heat. It’s not a soulmate mark but her face still darkens in color. God does Nobara even know what she does to me? Maki wonders. Her face flushes even darker when she looks at the fully developed soulmate mark on Nobara’s face. The mark she put there. It’s only two thick stripes that were her fingers brushing against Nobara’s cheek, but Maki feels a rush of pride at the soulmate mark. I did that, she thinks.
“If this…” Nobara trails off, fingers brushing over the mark on her face. “Then does that mean…?” her eyes flick to Maki, and she reaches out a hand. “May I?” she asks.
Maki nods, then almost flinches as two fingertips gently touch her face.
Nobara’s hand is shaking, but the two soft pads of her finger tips bring a relaxing, warm feeling to Maki. And then the burning starts. And oh how it hurts, but Maki loves the pain. She cherishes it even. And with the pain fades out she just knows that two little dots are marked into her cheek from Nobara’s fingertips. Nobara stares at her face with a love filled look that Maki assumes she wore herself a few seconds prior.
“Not surprised that the first person I touch in about fifteen years or so is my soulmate.” Maki says with a laugh.
“Yeah, your soulmate.” Nobara breathes out, not sounding fully there.
“Yes, my soulmate.” Maki says, smiling at Nobara.
bonus:
yuuji and megumi are soulmates (ofc) and their first skin to skin contact was a fist bump and so they have the same soulmate mark of half of their fingers being marked (I wanted to write this in but it just didn't fit in where the story was moving)
also a little info physical touch like grabbing someone's shirt or touching them with something doesn't count only skin to skin contact works (think angel from csm and his power)
#toad talks#toad writes#grayson’s gibberish#my fic#My writing#nobamaki week#nobamaki#kugisaki nobara#maki zenin#jjk#jujutsu kaisen
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