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lostfracturess · 3 months

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【 ꜱʏᴍᴘᴛᴏᴍꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴀᴜꜱᴇꜱ 】 ch. 07

x pairing professor!gojo x med student f!reader (medical au)

x summary he's arrogant, self-centered, and he's your professor. renowned for his brilliance in neurosurgery and infamous for his allure. too bad you have to work with him on this research team. now you're stuck with dr. satoru gojo, delving into the complexities of both the brain and the heart—and of how far you'd go for a love that could destroy not only him but you as well.

x wc 12.2 k

x warnings [18+] this story contains substance abuse/addiction, (rough) smut, mature themes, self-destructive behavior, (heavy) angst, mentions of death / illness / blood / abuse, graphic medical procedures. reader discretion is advised.

x author's note dive in and let me know what you think—i love hearing your thoughts! & pls like or repost if you enjoyed, it means the world ♡

series masterlist + playlist + ao3 + wattpad

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You shifted your weight from one leg to the other.

Then again.

No use.

No position was comfortable anymore. How long have you been at it?

"Everything okay?"

You looked over to Satoru, nodding slightly. "I'm fine, just a bit stiff."

"We're almost done." Satoru seemed entirely at ease, his hands moving with his familiar precision and confidence as he navigated through the brain in front of him.

It's almost criminal how good he was at masking his withdrawal.

"Can you hold on a little longer?"

"Yeah, I'm good." You forced yourself to push past the discomfort, ignoring the growing ache in your limbs. You shifted your weight from one leg to the other again. The sterile brightness of the operating room harsh against your tired eyes.

You mirrored his movements, every action synchronized seamlessly with his. As you retracted the tissue to reveal the implantation site, Satoru's sharp eyes caught something unexpected.

"Hold on a second," he interjected. "Come closer."

You leaned in, your focus shifting to where he was pointing his instrument. Amidst the intricate web of nerve fibers, a distinct cluster caught your attention, its arrangement defying the textbook descriptions you were used to seeing.

"This is an excellent example of neuroplasticity," Satoru explained. "See how the brain has restructured these pathways? It's adapting, compensating for lost functions. Beautiful, isn't it?"

"Yeah, it really is."

"That's something you won't find in books. Real-life experience is the best teacher."

"Thank you for showing me, Dr. Gojo."

Satoru turned to meet your gaze, his smile noticeable even under his mask. "It's my pleasure to teach you, first-year."

As Satoru carefully adjusted the microelectrodes to align with the neural pathways, you kept the surgical field clear, suctioning away any obstructions and adjusting the lighting to ensure Satoru had an unobstructed view of the implantation site.

"Speaking of teaching," Satoru began without looking away from his work. "What's the significance of the basal lamina in epithelial tissue organization?"

Caught off guard, you blinked. "What?"

"Was my question unclear, or are you pondering your answer?"

Oh my god. Not this again.

"It provides structural support and filtration, separating the epithelium from underlying connective tissue," you replied, focusing on assisting him while recalling your histology lectures.

"Correct. How about the roles of astrocytes and microglia in the CNS?" he continued, not missing a beat as he made another precise adjustment to the neuroimplant.

"Astrocytes support and protect neuronal cells; microglia act as immune cells within the CNS."

Satoru's smile grew slightly. "And the process and significance of axonal myelination in the CNS?"

"Oligodendrocytes wrap axons to form the myelin sheath, speeding up nerve impulse transmission," you explained as you handed him the next tool he needed.

"Excellent," Satoru acknowledged. "I wonder why you did so badly in your histology exam."

"Huh?"

Satoru turned to meet your gaze. "Your histology results. I've seen them. You didn't do well."

"That's because someone has been taking up all my study time," you said in a low tone. "Besides, stop snooping around my exam scores."

"Ah, so it's my fault, is it? Here I was, thinking I was quite the teacher."

"That's a bit of a stretch, considering you're the main reason I'm was behind the whole semester."

Satoru's grin widened. "But it helped with your anatomy exam, didn't it? And your pharmacology results were among the best."

You raised an eyebrow. "That had little to do with you."

"Anyway, shall we test the neuro connection now?" he suggested, flashing you a playful smile as he concluded the surgery.

As you both began the preliminary checks to ensure the equipment was ready for testing, the operating room door swung open. The anesthetist, a woman in her thirties with striking black hair and a prominent scar crossing her face over her nose, re-entered the OR and resumed her position.

"You know, as the anesthetist, I'd think your place is here, inside the OR, not out," Satoru commented.

The anesthetist waved it off with a dismissive gesture. "With a surgeon like you at the helm, Dr. Gojo, my worries are few and far between," she quipped. "Besides, I knew you had everything well in hand."

What is her mission here?

Your eyes wandered over to Satoru who seemed unfazed by her playful tone.

"Let's start with the diagnostic checks to confirm the implant's responsiveness. Pay close attention to the readings; we're looking for any signs of synaptic activity that align with our projections," Satoru said to you.

You monitored the screens closely, watching for the telltale signs. Satoru, too, kept a keen eye on the data streaming in, his expression tense. After a few moments, the first signs of success appeared. Relief washed over you.

"Looks like we're in business." Satoru's eyes meet yours, his lips curling into a smile. "Let's close the patient up."

"Would you like to do the honors?" Satoru asked, a slight nod towards the suture materials prepared on the tray beside him.

"Yes, I'd like that."

"Then come here," he said, adjusting the overhead light for you. You moved into Satoru's position as he stepped back. Satoru hovered close, his eyes never leaving your hands as they began their work.

"You can use a bit more tension." His hand briefly covered yours, guiding the needle with the precise pressure needed. "The skin has a few scars from past surgeries. If you stitch scar tissue too loosely, you compromise the incision's integrity."

His hands were a comforting presence, guiding but not controlling, allowing you to feel the right amount of tension necessary. "That's it, nice and steady. You're doing great." He stepped back to let you finish independently.

The room fell into a concentrated silence. The process was methodical, each movement deliberate, as you worked to close the incision, layer by layer, ensuring the integrity of the closure.

"Good girl," Satoru whispered as you secured the final stitch. "Didn't expect anything less form you. The patient is going to be thankful for such a neat closure."

You glanced back at him. "Thank you Dr. Gojo."

"Always my pleasure."

After the surgery, you both scrubbed up in the washing room, the warm water cascading over your hands.

"Our first successful surgery," Satoru mused, his gaze meeting yours. "Looks like this summer's going to be a breeze."

"It will sure be an interesting summer with that anesthetist."

"What do you mean?"

"You didn't get it? The anesthetist was practically throwing herself at you earlier."

"Really?"

"Yeah, seriously. She wasn't very subtle."

He grinned. "What, are you jealous?"

Just as you were about to respond, the door to the washing room opened, and the anesthetist walked in. "Dr. Gojo," she began. "That was an impressive surgery. It's always a pleasure to work with such a skilled surgeon."

Wow. Thank you.

She talked like you weren't even there.

Satoru offered a polite smile. "Thank you. But It was a team effort."

Undeterred, the anesthetist stepped closer, her intention clear. "I was wondering if you'd like to grab dinner sometime? To discuss more about your work, maybe?"

The room fell into an uncomfortable silence, broken only by the sound of running water. You stole a glance at Satoru, who appeared momentarily paralyzed. You cleared your throat, reminding him that the anesthetist was waiting for his answer.

"I'm sorry, but I'm with someone," Satoru finally managed to say.

Huh?

The soap bar slipped from your grip at his words. It crashed into the sink with a sound that felt disproportionately loud in the tense silence that followed.

Satoru turned towards you. "You okay?"

"Yeah." You hastily reached for the soap again, your movements a bit too quick, a bit too shaky.

The anesthetist's expression faltered, a brief flash of embarrassment crossing her features before she quickly composed herself. "Of course, sorry. I should have seen that," she said, her gaze flickering between you and Satoru.

Oh fuck.

"Seen what?" Satoru asked.

"That you're dating. I just thought it'd be rather unusual for a professor and a student, but I'm not—," she stumbled over her words. Her exit strategy crumbled as gracefully as your grasp on the soap bar, which slipped from your fingers once more, causing another loud thud as it hit the sink.

"I should go now," the anesthetist hastened to add. She left the room in a rush, leaving you and Satoru alone once again. You felt as if all blood had drained from your face.

"Are you good?" Satoru asked again, his gaze piercing as if silently questioning your ability to perform surgery when you couldn't even hold a damn bar of soap in your hands.

"Yeah, I'm good." You quickly tried to shake off the lingering awkwardness. "You should probably clear that up."

"She's actually from another hospital. She's just here for today's surgery."

"Still, Satoru."

"Alright, alright, I'll clear things up with her. You have my word."

The hospital was a breeding ground for gossip. The last thing either of you needed was speculative gossip. Yet, Satoru seemed to find an odd sense of appeal in the idea.

"Actually, part of me thinks it wouldn't be so bad to let the rumor spread," he mused, running a towel over his hands. "It would certainly be easier than all this sneaking around."

"Are you out of your mind?"

He laughed. "Perhaps a bit." His eyes sparkled with mischief as they met yours. "But imagine it—no more tiptoeing around, no more fear of getting caught."

Before you could react, Satoru leaned in. His hands slipped around your waist to pull you closer. You pushed against him, a feeble attempt to keep some distance.

"You know, we're not in a relationship, Satoru."

"What, you're banning me to the friend zone?"

"It's not like you've ever left it."

"Harsh. That cuts deep."

You rolled your eyes. "Sure."

With a soft sigh, he released you, stepping back. "Come with me. There's something I want to show you."

─── ·✧· ───

Without further explanation, he led you through the quiet halls of the hospital to his office. The moment you entered Satoru's office, you were welcomed by the rhythmic pattering of rain against the windows. The office was dimly lit, the only light coming from the stormy sky outside.

Satoru shrugged off his coat and collapsed onto the couch, a deep sigh escaping him. For a moment, he lay still, his eyes fixed on his phone as he navigated through it.

You joined him on the couch. "What's this?" you asked as he handed you his phone.

"Just watch."

You pressed play on the video.

It showed the young patient from the first surgery, now equipped with his biometric arm you both had painstakingly worked for. The patient was in a training room, demonstrating an impressive range of motion and dexterity with the new limb. His movements were fluid and controlled. Almost perfect.

You couldn't help but smile.

Satoru's voice could be heard in the background, praising the patient's progress. The patient's face lit up with a broad smile as he looked into the camera.

The video ended.

"He was here yesterday for a checkup," Satoru said, running a hand over his face and through his hair. "This is your doing. You made this happen."

"It took all of us to get this done."

"No. You led the surgery. It was your doing. And now, he has a chance at a new life. All thanks to you. Feels good, doesn't it?"

"What?" You handed the phone back to him.

"Knowing that we can actually change things," Satoru mused as he flipped the phone idly in his hand, replaying the video. "Make a real difference in someone's life."

"It does." Your smile turned bittersweet as you observed him closely. "You look tired, Satoru."

Satoru glanced at you, a shadow of a smile crossing his lips. He rubbed his slightly bloodshot eyes. "Do I?"

"Yeah. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

"You don't look 'fine.'" You gently pushed the damp hair away from his forehead. His reaction was immediate; his hand captured yours, drawing it down to caress his cheek. He leaned into your touch, a sigh escaping him as he closed his eyes.

"You should really consider just taking some clonidine."

He exhaled deeply. "You really not stopping with that."

"Because you keep being stupid," you replied, pulling away to stand. "Where do you have it?"

"In my bag."

You crossed the room to where his bag lay, rummaging through its contents until you found the medication. Holding the clonidine in hand, you turned back to face him. Satoru had shifted to a sitting position, his gaze fixed on you.

Holding out the medication, you met his gaze, urging him silently to take it. But Satoru hesitated, a slight pout on his lips. "I can't."

"Why not?" Frustration edged into your voice. "Satoru, it's for your own good."

"It's not that simple."

"It is. You're making it complicated."

A tense silence filled the space between you, the rain's steady patter against the windows underscoring the moment. "I... I just can't take it like this."

"What do you mean?"

"I can't stand the taste."

He really got some nerves.

"Don't make me force you to take it."

Satoru's lips quirked up in a half-smile. "You couldn't make me swallow it if you tried."

"You think so?" you countered, your patience thinning.

Deciding on a more direct approach, you moved closer and sat down on his lap, straddling him. His eyes widened as you did so. He let himself fall back against the couch, his hands instinctively settling on your hips.

You reached for one of the pills, your movements deliberate under Satoru's watchful gaze. "What are you about to do?"

Holding the pill between your fingers, you met his gaze squarely. "I'm making sure you take this." You placed the pill on your tongue, savoring its bitter taste.

His breath caught in his throat as your lips met his. Still, his tongue eagerly met yours.

He swallowed the pill without a second thought.

That's it, isn't it?

You should withdraw.

Withdraw your lips from his soft and tender lips.

God, his lips were soft against yours. Just like you remember. How you missed it.

Ah fuck it.

His lips moved against yours. His kisses became more urgent, more possessive, as he hungrily devoured your lips. In that instant, nothing else existed except the two of you. With a sudden tug, Satoru pulled you closer until there was hardly any space left between your bodies.

"I thought we had an agreement?" Satoru gasped between kisses.

"Did we?" you said, throwing your own principles overboard.

They didn't stick around very long, did they?

I'm not judging you, reader. It's Satoru Gojo after all.

We would all bend the rules for him, wouldn't we?

His lips twitched into a wicked smile. His hands creep under the hem of your shirt, working their way up your back. Drawing closer, your body melded seamlessly with his.

You shifted slightly, arching your spine to grind against him, causing a low moan to escape his chest. In return, his touch grew urgent, fingers pressing into your flesh as if seeking comfort in your warmth. He kissed the side of your neck, sending shivers down your spine.

Your hands found their way into his hair, fingers tangling in the strands, urging him onward. His lips moved down, leaving a trail of fire wherever they went. Then, with a tantalizing flicker, his tongue traced the curve of your neck, turning your core molten.

The world outside faded, the only sound the pouring rain outside and the whisper of fabric against skin—until the abrupt light from his phone broke the spell, its screen illuminating the dim room.

"Ignore it," he murmured against your lips.

Ignoring the insistent vibration of his phone, Satoru deepened his kiss. You could feel his longing pulsing through him, matching your own. As if in response to the sound of the phone, his touch became bolder and more intense, leaving heat wherever he touched you.

Yet, the persistent buzzing of the phone became impossible to ignore. You turned your head slightly to see who was calling him for the third time in a row.

"Don't," Satoru whispered, cupping your chin to bring your focus back to him. "Focus only on me." His lips sought yours once more.

But you couldn't help it when his phone rang a fourth time. You cracked open one eye and glanced at the screen. "Satoru, wait," you pulled away from his lips. "It's Director Yaga."

Groaning in frustration, he reluctantly released his grip on you.

"Hello?" he answered.

Satoru's brow furrowed as he listened, his occasional nods doing little to reveal the nature of the conversation. Finally, Satoru hung up.

He looked at you, his expression grave. The sudden shift in his demeanor sent a chill through you, the air around you suddenly felt colder.

"Yaga wants to see us. In his office. As soon as possible."

"What? Why?"

"Didn't say anything."

"What did he say then?"

"Only mentioned it's urgent and that we both appear." He dropped his head back onto the back of the couch. "God, Yaga is such a cockblock."

You leaned back slightly, worry creasing your brow. "It's probably because of that student you punched. He must know something."

"He doesn't know anything."

"What if that student presses charges? What if rumors already spead? What if he wants to fire you?" The words tumbled out of your mouth before you could stop them.

Satoru cupped your face, forcing you to meet his gaze. "Whatever it is, I'll handle it."

"How can you be so sure? What will we even say?"

"Trust me, I'll do the talking. Just stay quiet, okay?"

"Okay," you whispered, trying to push aside your concerns as you took a deep breath to steady your nerves.

The storm outside suddenly seemed much louder than before.

─── ·✧· ───

The clock was ticking.

It was the only sound in the tense silence.

Director Yaga sat behind his desk, his expression inscrutable, yet the sharpness in his gaze suggested a brewing storm. He watched the two of you for what seemed like an eternity.

He then leaned forward. His hands clasped on the desk. His gaze bored into Satoru with an intensity that made even the famous neurosurgeon shift uncomfortably.

"Director Yaga—" Satoru started, but then Yaga spoke himself.

"Why the hell did you punch that student in the face, Gojo?"

"Because he drugged one of my students." Satoru said. "I found out that he slipped something into her drink during the faculty party two weeks ago."

"And you thought the appropriate response was to physically assault the student?"

"I couldn't let it go, sir. What he did was dangerous. She could have been seriously harmed."

Yaga leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples. "Dr. Gojo, your method leaves much to be desired. We can't have our staff resorting to violence every time they're upset."

Satoru's jaw tightened. "I understand, sir. It was a lapse in judgment. But considering the circumstances—"

"Circumstances?" Yaga interrupted, his tone rising. "This is a university, not a back alley. We have protocols for dealing with misconduct. You know this."

"I do, sir. And I apologize for overstepping. But with all due respect, those protocols might not have protected her in time."

"And you think a punch was the immediate solution?"

"It was what I felt necessary at the moment."

Yaga's gaze hardened again. "Dr. Gojo, your 'momentary feelings' are becoming a liability. This isn't the first time your actions have caused complications. Your skills as a surgeon are beyond question, but your impulse control is, frankly, concerning."

"I understand the gravity of my actions, sir," Satoru said. "And I am prepared to face the consequences."

You needed to say something.

Do something.

You opened your mouth but Satoru raised his hand slightly from his lap so that only you could see it. He didn't want you to say anything.

Yaga studied him for a long moment, then sighed. "I'll deal with the student's misconduct appropriately. As for you, Dr. Gojo, there will be consequences. I expect better from you in the future. Much better."

Satoru nodded. "Thank you, sir. It won't happen again."

Yaga's gaze then shifted to you. "You're spending a lot of time with Dr. Gojo, right?"

Your eyes briefly flicked to Satoru. "Yes, sir. We're working closely on the neuroprosthetics project."

"And how do you find working with Dr. Gojo?"

You hesitated for a second. You could feel Satoru's gaze on you. "It's been an incredible learning experience," you said. "Dr. Gojo is a brilliant surgeon, and working with him has offered me insights and opportunities I wouldn't have had otherwise."

"Indeed," Yaga mused, leaning back in his chair. "It's good to see such teamwork among our staff. But remember, the university and the hospital are a small world. Rumors spread quickly."

Your blood ran cold.

The warning was clear.

"You can leave now," Yaga said, his tone indicating that the remainder of the discussion was meant for Satoru alone.

"Thank you, sir." You stood, casting one last glance at Satoru, who remained seated. Satoru caught your look, offering a subtle nod.

You found yourself pacing the corridor outside, the minutes stretching into what felt like hours. Every scenario imaginable played out in your mind, each more disconcerting than the last.

Finally, the door opened, and Satoru emerged — a practiced smile on his face. Yet, the tightness around his eyes betrayed him.

"Everything's fine," he said.

"Is it really?"

"Honestly, it's nothing to worry about. Yaga just wanted to go over a few things. You know how it is."

"Satoru, if something's wrong—"

"Really, it's nothing. Just the usual Yaga being overcautious. We're fine."

The use of "we" didn't escape your notice.

You knew Satoru well enough by now to recognize when he was shielding you — or perhaps himself — from worry. Yet, his insistence on handling matters alone, on bearing the brunt of any fallout without burdening you, was both admirable and, at times, maddeningly frustrating.

You studied him for a moment, searching his face for any sign of what truly happened behind closed doors. It was then that he stepped closer, closing the distance between you.

"Come on, don't make that face." His hands came up to cradle your face. "Everything's fine."

"You don't have to protect me from everything, you know that, right?"

"Still, you can't stop me from trying." He released you from his hold and turned. "Come on, let's grab something to eat. I'm starving."

─── ·✧· ───

The early morning sun bathed the hospital grounds in a soft, orange light, heralding the start of another beautiful summer day. A gentle breeze, carrying with it the scent of freshly mown grass, whispered through the trees.

As you made your way toward the hospital, your eyes found Geto and Satoru. They were seated on a bench under the expansive branches of an oak tree, bathed in the speckled sunlight that danced through the leaves, casting patterns of light and shadow around them.

Drawing closer, Satoru caught sight of you, his face lighting up with a smile.

"There she is," Geto greeted you, a cigarette loosely held between his fingers. He exhaled a stream of smoke, the wisps dancing lazily in the morning light.

Satoru shifted to make room for you on the bench. "Ready for today?"

You took a seat beside him. "As ready as I can be," you said. "How about you?"

Satoru presented his hand in front of you, somewhat still. "See? No tremors today. All's well."

"I'm glad," you replied, though your eyes couldn't help but trace the faint bruises and scratches that still marred his otherwise flawless pale skin — remnants of the confrontation with that student. As your gaze shifted back to his, he offered you a wink, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

Geto broke the sudden stillness. "So, heading into surgery number four today?"

"Yeah, your fourth one, eight more to go," you confirmed. "What do you have lined up for today, Geto?"

With a knowing smirk, Geto exhaled another stream of smoke. "An aneurysm clipping."

Intrigued, you leaned in slightly, your eyes brightening. "What really?"

Catching your reaction, Satoru teased, "Thinking of ditching me for Geto's surgery?"

You rolled your eyes. "Never, but you have to admit, nothing compares to the thrill of an aneurysm."

Satoru settled back, a shiver passing through him. "You know, you're kind of scary sometimes."

Geto let out a low laugh as he stood, crushing his cigarette underfoot. "Well then, I should get ready for my 'thrilling' surgery. Good luck with your procedure today."

Before Geto could stride away, Satoru's voice halted him. "Hey, Suguru, try not to scare your team away this time. We're running out of interns who don't break into a cold sweat at the mention of your name."

Geto turned. "Oh, please, Satoru. Interns come to me to recover from the trauma of working with you."

Leaning back on the bench, Satoru draped his arm across the back, subtly encircling you. "Scaring them is a necessary part of their training. Builds character. After me, they're ready for anything."

"You mean after they recover from the trauma," Geto said, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards.

"You should be thanking me. Makes you look like the good guy for a change."

"That's your plan? Making me look good?" Geto raised an eyebrow. "Well, try not to traumatize them too much, will you?"

"No promises," Satoru replied. "But I'll consider it, just for you."

Geto waved a dismissive hand. "Just make sure you don't scare away this one." He gestured towards you. "She's a keeper."

As Geto disappeared into the hospital, Satoru turned to you, the smile still lingering on his face. "See what I have to put up with? It's a tough job, but someone's got to keep him in check."

"Seems like you both do a good job of keeping each other grounded."

"Yeah, we do. Couldn't ask for a better friend, even if he is a bit of a menace."

You observed him for a second. "How are you really feeling today?"

Satoru hesitated for a moment before extending his hand towards you. It was a subtle, but his hand was trembling, the fine tremors betraying his withdrawal. "See? Steady as ever," he joked, though his smile didn't quite reach his eyes. "Just need a bit of caffeine."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, but," he edged closer, "you know, you could always help steady them."

You stood up and began to walk towards the hospital. "In your dreams, Satoru."

"Oh, so we're playing by the rules now?"

"The rules bend to my will. They're mine, after all."

"Wait," he interjected. "There's something I've been wanting to ask you."

You stopped, turning to face him. "What is it?"

"Next week, I've been invited to give a guest lecture at another university about our neuroprosthetics research. I was hoping you'd join me for the presentation. Would you be interested in co-presenting?"

"Me? Co-present with you?"

"I can't think of anyone better to share the stage with."

"But what about Geto? It's as much his project. Shouldn't he be the one to present with you?"

He shrugged. "But I’d rather have you with me. Besides, he won’t be mad at me for choosing you.”

"I don't know if I'm the right person for that, Satoru."

He leaned forward. "You won't be up there alone. I'll be with you every step of the way. Haven't we always worked best as a team?"

You watched him for a second, considering.

"There's more," he added. "The university, it's a bit far away. We'd have to stay overnight."

"And let me guess, you need someone to look after you?"

Without missing a beat, Satoru's grin widened. "You know, with my problems and all, I could use someone to keep me in line."

"Are you seriously using your addiction to guilt-trip me into this?"

"Absolutely. But seriously, I need you there. Not just for me, but for this. For us."

"You're impossible." You let out a sigh, defeated yet somehow exhilarated. "Alright, Satoru. I'll go with you."

"That's all I wanted to hear," Satoru beamed, his eyes softening. "Now, let's go open some skulls."

─── ·✧· ───

The morning air held a cool bite.

When the door creaked open, Satoru stood there, looking like someone who had just rolled out of bed. His hair stood in every direction, his eyes blinking against the daylight, and his clothes — a rumpled t-shirt and sweatpants — spoke volumes of his unpreparedness.

"Uh, good morning?" His greeting came out more as a question as he took in the sight of you, fully dressed and ready, suitcase and all. "You want to move in? Not that I would complain."

"You seriously forgot?"

"Forgot what?"

"We're supposed to head to the university today. Our meeting with the director is at noon. The lecture, Satoru. Remember?"

"That was today?" he murmured, running a hand through his already disheveled hair.

"Yes."

"Fuck." Satoru stepped aside and let you enter his apartment. "Give me ten minutes. Fifteen, tops."

You stepped inside, setting your suitcase down by the door. The apartment was quiet, save for the distant sounds of the city outside and Satoru's hurried movements from room to room. "Be right back," he said and disappeared into the bathroom.

The sound of running water soon filled the space.

Left to your own devices, you began to pace the living area of his apartment. "So, what's the plan? Did you even prepare the lecture?" you called out, raising your voice slightly to be heard over the sound of the shower.

From the bathroom, Satoru's laughter echoed. "I'm always prepared, as you can see."

"Yeah, that's what I thought." You meandered around the room, straightening out a stack of papers here, realigning books there — a small attempt to bring order to Satoru's organized chaos. "You really haven't prepared, have you?"

"Ah, you know me too well," he called back. "Didn't you prepare something?"

"Of course, I did."

After a few minutes, the water turned off, and the apartment fell into a brief silence before Satoru reappeared. His hair was wet and slicked back, giving him a more put-together appearance, despite the fact he was only in his underwear. Droplets of water glistened on his skin, trailing down his chest and abs. Your gaze shamelessly lingered.

"I knew I could count on you," he teased, a knowing smirk playing on his lips.

"Sometimes I wonder how you even managed to become a professor."

"Do you really hold such a low opinion of me? The lecture's all set on my laptop. We'll go over it during the drive," he reassured, before striding towards his bedroom.

You followed him, leaning against the doorframe. "And here I was, worried you'd forgotten about the professional part of being a professor."

He laughed, pulling on a pair of trousers and beginning to button up a shirt. "Never doubt my commitment to teaching. My methods may be unconventional, but the results speak for themselves."

He then began throwing random cloths on his bed to pack. His shirt, only half-tucked, fluttered with each brisk movement.

You stepped into the room to offer some semblance of help — or at least moral support. Making yourself comfortable on the bed beside the pile of cloths, you observed his somewhat arbitrary decision-making process, each choice seemingly dictated by a 'that'll do' attitude.

"Shall I help pick out a tie that will adequately convey 'accountable professor,' or have we already moved beyond such formalities?"

Satoru shot you a look. "Haha, very funny," he retorted. "I'll have you know, I perform excellently under pressure."

Adjusting his shirt, he secured his belt with a metallic click. "Besides," he continued, now fully dressed and giving off an air of readiness, "I was counting on your impeccable sense of organization to make sure we didn't forget anything important."

You arched an eyebrow. "So, I'm your security plan? Here I thought I was the co-presenter."

He paused, his gaze intensifying as he crossed the room in two strides. Climbing onto the bed, his presence loomed over you, his nearness overwhelming.

"You're much more than that," he said, his voice softer this time. "You're everything."

The room seemed to hold its breath, the early morning light casting long shadows that danced around you both. Without another word, Satoru leaned down and pressed his lips against yours. It was a fleeting touch, yet it sparked a longing that begged for more.

He didn't wait long to deepen the kiss, pressing his lips even harder against yours. Your lips locked together as if starved for each other's embrace. Savoring every moment, they explored each other deeply. Before parting, Satoru's teeth nipped at your lower lip.

Parting, Satoru's eyes shimmered in the morning light, his fingertip delicately tracing the line of your cheekbone. "Now, let's make sure we're not late because of my supposed unpreparedness."

─── ·✧· ───

The drive to the other university unfolded under a sky so clear and blue it seemed almost surreal. it was an eight-hour drive, maybe more. You may have slept half the way.

The closer you got to the coast, the more the air changed, imbued with a freshness that hinted at the vast expanse of water nearby. When you finally arrived at the university, the salty tang of the ocean breeze greeted you, wafting through the warm air. You stepped out of the car, stretching your legs and taking a deep breath.

Satoru led the way across the campus with a stride that suggested familiarity. The university itself was an impressive collection of modern and classical architecture, its buildings bathed in the golden light of the sun.

You followed Satoru closely as you navigated through the lively campus. Students and faculty alike went about their day. Palm trees swayed gently in the breeze, casting playful shadows on the paths that crisscrossed the grounds.

"I have a feeling this isn't your first time here," you said.

Satoru glanced over at you, a smile playing on his lips. "Ah, the director here is an old friend of mine."

"So, this is a bit of a reunion for you two, then?"

"In a way, yes." The sun accentuated the subtle lines of amusement around his eyes. "But to be honest, he's always been a pain in my ass. We've been challenging each other since our university days. Always trying to outdo one another, whether in academics, research, or... well, less scholarly things."

What's that supposed to mean?

Satoru didn't hesitate as he approached the director's office. He raised his hand and knocked firmly on the door, the sound echoing slightly in the quiet hallway. You stood by his side, a whirlwind of thoughts swirling in your mind.

"Come in," called a voice from inside.

As Satoru pushed the door open, you both entered.

The director was a man in his thirties, the same age as Satoru, you guessed. His hair was loosely combed back, and his hair had a light pink blush that you found rather unusual. What caught your eye, however, were the geometric line tattoos adorning his arms, revealed by his rolled-up sleeves.

The director rose from his chair upon your entrance. The familiarity between him and Satoru was immediate. "Toru, it's been ages!" he exclaimed.

Toru?

That casual nickname threw you for a moment.

The two of them embraced each other in a firm hug that seemed almost painful to an outsider. "Sukuna, you haven't changed a bit."

Turning his focus to you, Sukuna's sharp eyes found you. "And you must be the talented co-presenter I've heard so much about," he said, his voice carrying a smooth confidence that bordered on arrogance. "How was the drive over? I hope Toru here didn't bore you too much with his old university stories."

Stop calling him Toru, for fuck's sake.

Before you could muster a response, Sukuna took your hand in his, bending slightly to press a kiss to the back of it — a gesture that felt oddly out of place and left you feeling momentarily disoriented. "Please, call me Sukuna," he insisted, his grin wide.

I'm going to call you an asshole if you don't let go of my hand right now.

Sukuna stepped back and leaned against his desk. "So, Toru," he began, "are you still trying to save the world one brain at a time?"

"Someone's got to do it, especially when others are too busy terrorizing the next generation of doctors," he retorted.

Sukuna laughed. "Ah, but you know, adversity breeds excellence. Or so I keep telling them. I remember times, where you did the same."

Satoru chuckled. "You know me, always up for a challenge."

"That's for sure" Sukuna scoffed, he then adressed you. "You know that your professor always trying to beat me at... Well, anything, really."

"That's because you set the bar so low," Satoru shot back.

"Me? Low? I just see one person in this room leading a whole university."

Satoru leaned back in his chair. "That's just because I hate paperwork. I can't believe they even suggested you for this job after you barely making it to morning rounds for years."

Sukuna laughed, leaning forward. "Ah yes, but who was it that set the record for the most successful procedures in a single semester? Remind me, Toru."

Satoru's smirk grew wider. "Must have been the same person who had to repeat almost every exam."

Sukuna waved dismissively. "Details, details. But what happened? You became so tame."

"Grow older, you know. Wiser. Would suit you as well."

Sukuna chraked a smile and turned to you again. "Ah, so it's your influence, then?" You winced. "Impressive. I've never seen anyone manage to keep Toru on a leash before."

What is wrong with this guy.

Satoru's reaction was immediate, his eyes narrowing just a touch. "Don't go there Sukuna. We're here for a lecture you asked for, not for you to come at my student."

Sukuna raised his hands in a mock surrender. "Alright, alright, I give in. It seems you've finally met your match."

Sukuna pushed away from his desk and walked around it. "I'm looking forward to your lecture. The students and faculty are in for a treat. But now I have to go, I have a meeting in 10 minutes. But, maybe we can catch up later, reminisce about the good old days."

"Sounds like a plan," Satoru said, rising from his seat.

"I'll call you." Sukuna collected some papers and his bag, nodding to both of you before leaving the office.

"I didn't expect you two to be so close," you commented as you both made your way down the sunlit hallway. "You seem like a different person around him."

Satoru raised an eyebrow. "Different, how?"

"It's just... It's like you're returning to your university self."

He pondered your words for a moment. "Sukuna was a close friend of mine during my university days. We went through a lot together. But somewhere along the way, our paths parted. He climbed the academic ladder, and I... well, I found my calling in neurosurgery."

"It must be nice to catch up after all these years."

Satoru nodded. "It is. We've both changed in many ways, but some things remain the same."

As you both made your way out of the university and to the car, the afternoon sun made the door handles almost too hot to touch. "So what are we gonna do now?" you asked as Satoru opened the passenger door for you.

"I know a place."

─── ·✧· ───

"Feels like holiday here," you observed, taking a sip of your ice-cold drink.

"That's why I brought you here," Satoru replied with an easy smile.

Seated at a cozy corner of a beachside bar, you and Satoru found a spot in the shade. The bar was open-air, offering an unobstructed view of the expansive beach and the calm sea beyond. Around you, the soft chatter of other guests and the gentle sound of the waves in the background.

With cold drinks in hand, you both relaxed into the comfortable silence, taking in the sight of the azure waters and the feel of the light sea breeze.

Curiosity eventually got the better of you. "So, how did you and Sukuna meet?"

Satoru leaning back, glancing at you over his sunglasses. "You're really asking a lot about him."

"Just curious."

"Sukuna and I did our undergraduate together, and eventually we both decided to do an exchange semester here," he explained, his gaze drifting towards the horizon. "This place, this university, it holds a lot of memories."

You watched him, waiting for him to continue.

"Sukuna was always the more... adventurous one, I guess. Always pushing the limits, dragging me along for the ride."

"Sounds like you had quite the time."

Satoru laughed. "Guess you can say that. Sukuna had this knack for finding trouble, and somehow, I always ended up being his wingman."

As a silence fell between you, you found yourself biting your lower lip, a sense of unease growing within you.

After a moment, Satoru broke the quiet. "What's on your mind, love?"

Taken aback, you paused. "It's nothing, really."

Satoru's expression softened. "I can see that something's bothering you." As he spoke, he reached across the table, his hand finding yours. His fingers wrapped around your hand, offering a comforting warmth as his thumb began to softly caress your skin.

"Just a bit surprising to see this side of you. It's so different."

He exhaled softly and turned his attention back to the horizon, where the sea met the sky in a seamless blend of colors, his hand still holding yours across the table. "Because I was different then. But Sukuna's idea of adventure was often too close to the edge for my liking. Still, I let myself get swept along." His eyes met yours again. "But not anymore."

You offered a faint smile in response.

The calm moment was abruptly shattered when Satoru's other hand unexpectedly twitched, causing his drink to slip from his grip. The glass hit the sand below with a loud thud.

You jumped at the sudden sound. "Are you okay?"

He looked down at his hand, a flicker of surprise crossing his features. "Seems so." He flexed his fingers as if to reassure himself. "Hm, that's new." His attempt at nonchalance did little to mask the undercurrent of concern in his voice.

Satoru turned his attention back to you. "Really, I'm fine," he reiterated, seeing the worry that hadn't quite left your eyes.

"How much clonidine did you take today?"

"I haven't taken any. Thought I'd try a day without." Satoru read the concern on your face, a soft chuckle escaping him. "Don't give me that face."

"What face?"

"That worried face. I'd rather see you smile."

"I wouldn't be so worried if you could just take your damn medicine."

Satoru suddenly rose from his seat, closing the distance between you two. His hands found the arms of your chair. He leaned in, his voice a low, coaxing whisper. "Then perhaps you'd be willing to administer it more... personally?"

"Satoru, we're not alone here," you reminded him, though the intensity of his gaze made the rest of the world seem momentarily distant.

He grinned. "Does it matter? No one here knows us."

"Still—"

Your protest was barely audible before he interjected, "I know something better." Before you could process his words, or even respond, you found yourself lifted effortlessly, the world tilting as Satoru slung you over his shoulder in one fluid motion.

"What? What are you doing?"

He strode towards the water's edge, the sand beneath his feet giving way to the firmer, wet surface as the waves lapped gently at the shore.

"Put me down, Satoru!"

"Why so fierce, sweetheart?" His voice was teasing, laced with amusement.

Suspicion flickered in your eyes as you sensed his intentions, the vast, open sea just steps away. "Satoru, don't you dare—"

It was too late for warnings. With a mischievous grin, Satoru charged, plunging both of you into the shallow embrace of the ocean waves. The water was surprisingly warm, enveloping you both as you made a splash, your clothes instantly soaking up the sea.

You were underwater for a second, before you broke the surface. Satoru shook his head, water droplets flying from his hair, which now clung to his forehead and temples in dark, damp strands.

You pushed away, swimming a few strokes back to put some space between you. "You're insane!" you exclaimed as you splashed water in his direction.

Satoru shielded himself with his hands, still laughing. "You have to admit, it's refreshing!" he retorted, dodging your playful splashes with ease. The sunlight, now a rich golden, bathed the water around you, each splash shimmering like liquid gold in the dying light.

"Come here," he said as he swam over to you, pulling you close to him in the water. The water lifted you both, gently swaying you in its embrace as you floated together, suspended between sea and sky.

His hand reached up to cradle your face. His hands trembled ever so slightly as he held you close. His eyes, reflecting the sky's ever-changing hues, held yours. You held your breath, momentarily lost in his gaze.

"Promise me this," he said, "as soon as I'm clean, we drop the act. No more hiding, no games. I want you, only you, and I want us to be official. I want you to be mine."

As he spoke, there was an honesty in his crystal blue eyes you hadn't seen before, a vulnerability he rarely showed. He was not the confident surgeon you knew, not the serious professor. He was just Satoru, raw and sincere, laying his heart bare before you — laying his love bare before you.

In that moment, with the waves gently crashing around you and the last rays of the sun setting the sky aflame, you knew there was no turning back. You were his, completely and irrevocably, and nothing could change that.

"I've always been yours," you whispered.

It was a promise, a plea, a surrender, a confession all at once. Because you felt like surrendering — surrendering to him — but it was easy — surrendering to him was easy. Because every moment you weren't in his embrace was lost. Empty. Meaningless.

Because in the end, nothing else mattered but him.

And he smiled.

His chest emptied of a breath he must have held for a long time.

And then, as naturally as the tide finds the shore, his lips found yours.

The kiss was soft, unhurried, as if time itself had slowed to savor the moment between you. Every worry, every fear melted away, replaced by the conviction that you were exactly where you were meant to be. It was a promise. It was home.

For in his kiss, you had found your home.

And he found his.

Your mouths part ever so slightly as you breathe out. The salty taste of the sea lingered on your lips. Satoru smiled at you, his forehead gently resting against yours. Then, with an intensity that spoke volumes, his lips found yours once more.

This kiss was different from any before, making you feel alive in a way that nothing else ever could. Beneath the water's surface, he pulled you even closer, his touch electric against your skin. You responded in kind, wrapping your legs around his hips as he held you both above the water's edge.

With the waves softly cradling you, you floated weightlessly, your bodies intertwined like seaweed in the gentle currents. And in that fleeting moment, you knew one thing for sure:

This man would either be your forever or your ultimate downfall.

─── ·✧· ───

As you entered the hotel lobby, the air conditioning hit you like a wave. The hotel staff cast sidelong glances your way, noticing the faint trail of saltwater you inadvertently left behind on the polished floor.

Your hotel rooms were conveniently located next to each other. The saltwater had left its mark, clinging to your skin and hair. After a refreshing shower, you were just in the process of drying your hair when a knock came at your door.

You opened it to find Satoru leaning casually against the doorframe. He had changed into a fresh set of clothes, his hair still slightly damp from his own shower, giving him a carefree, almost boyish appearance.

"Hey, how about a game of pool?" he suggested with an easy smile. "Sukuna challenged us and I thought it might be fun."

You blinked. "I've never actually played before," you said as you dried your hair with a towel.

Satoru's smile widened. "Perfect, then I'll have the pleasure of teaching you. It'll be fun, I promise."

"But wouldn't it be a bit... weird? I mean, with me being a student and you both being professors..."

Satoru shrugged. "It's just a game of pool. Besides, we're not at the university now, and Sukuna's not one to care about formalities. Trust me, it'll be fine."

You watched him for a moment, pondering.

"I really want you to come," he insisted, leaning in a bit closer.

"Okay," you said. "Let me just get dressed."

Satoru's grin widened. He pushed off from the doorframe. "Great! I'll wait for you outside."

Soon enough you found yourself leaning over a green baize-covered billiard table.

In the dimly lit ambiance of the hotel's bar, the sound of clinking glasses and muffled conversations created a backdrop to the night's unfolding scene. The air was thick with the scent of polished wood and the faint hint of cigar smoke.

The weight of the cue in your hands felt foreign. Your focus narrowed to the white cue ball that awaited your command.

Satoru moved closer, his body brushing against yours as he positioned himself to guide your shot. "Just lean over the table a bit more," he said, his voice low and close to your ear. He placed one hand on your back to guide you down. "Yeah, like that."

"Now hold the cue like this." His hands gently cupped yours, adjusting your grip. His fingers intertwined with yours. The warmth of his hands seeped through your skin, sending a subtle shiver down your spine. "And aim just there," he continued, pointing to a spot on the cue ball.

In the background, Sukuna leaned against a nearby wall across from you, observing the scene. His eyes sparkled with an amused interest, clearly entertained by the exchange. Every now and then, his gaze would meet yours, a silent challenge, or perhaps a tease, lurking within their depths.

"Focus on where you want the ball to go," Satoru whispered, his breath ghosting over the nape of your neck as he spoke. With a deep breath, you attempted to steady your nerves, to push aside the awareness of Satoru's proximity and the curious gaze of Sukuna.

You pulled back the cue, your eyes locked on the target, and with a push, sent the cue ball rolling across the table. The crack of the balls colliding echoed through the room. A stripe sank into a corner pocket.

"Well done." Satoru stepped back to allow you space to straighten up, yet his hand remained on the small of your back. "See, you're a natural."

"Don't let him fool you. He's just happy to have found someone who'll listen to him ramble about angles and force," Sukuna's voice cut in.

Satoru laughed. "Maybe, but it seems to be working."

Sukuna pushed off the wall. "Watch and learn, kids." He set aside his glass of liquor and made his way over to the table.

Beside you, Satoru pulled you close, his arm casually wrapped around your shoulders.

It felt oddly normal.

Oddly normal — the way his arm was around you, the way you shared a laugh with an old friend of his, the way the world's expectations drifted into insignificance.

It was easy, in those moments, to forget the roles you each played in the outside world. Here, you were just two people, enjoying the company of each other.

The cue slid smoothly between Sukuna's fingers as he took aim. The shot was clean, the ball rolling into the pocket with a satisfying thud. "That's how it's done," he declared, turning to face you and Satoru, a broad grin on his face.

"Not bad, Sukuna. But you're not the only one with skills here," Satoru quipped. He drew you closer for a fleeting kiss on your temple before pushing away to snatch the cue from Sukuna's grip.

It all felt oddly normal.

As the game wound down and it was once again your turn at the table. You focused on lining up your shot, the cue stick feeling more familiar in your hands now. Satoru stepped back to give you space, joining Sukuna at the side of the billiard table.

"Didn't think you'd ever fuck a student," Sukuna said, in a not so low tone.

"Shut it Sukuna. She can hear you."

Yeah. You could hear him.

"You're not even denying it?" Sukuna pressed.

You could feel their eyes on you as you took your shot, the balls clattering against each other but not quite finding their way into the pockets.

"We're both adults," Satoru replied.

"Is that why you let her do surgery with you?" Sukuna insinuated with a smirk. "Is she that good in bed?"

You hated him.

He knew you could hear him.

He was deliberately provoking you.

"You should stop drinking, Sukuna." Satoru put a hand on Sukuna's shoulder. He then moved closer to you. "Don't take him seriously," he said, gently taking the cue from your hands to take his turn. "He doesn't know when to stop."

Oh really?

You turned to meet Sukuna's gaze. He leaned back casually against the edge of the table. His gaze fixed on you as he took a sip from his drink. The casual flick of his wrist and the confident tilt of his head suggested a man used to getting his way.

"So, Sukuna," you started. "Why have you stepped back from surgery? Couldn't keep up, or were you just not cut out for it?"

Satoru's eyebrows shot up, a mix of surprise and amusement flickering across his face. Sukuna paused, his drink halfway to his mouth. A low chuckle escaped him.

"Didn't know you had such a sharp tongue," Sukuna remarked, his grin broad and unfazed. "For your information, Satoru and I were pretty much equal."

"Yet, here you are, no longer in the operating room. Couldn't handle the competition?"

Sukuna leaned forward, placing his drink on the table with deliberate slowness. "Competition?" he echoed, a trace of amusement in his voice. "Let me correct that for you. I was the one setting the pace. Satoru here was always two steps behind, trying to catch up."

Satoru scoffed. "If by 'setting the pace' you mean rushing into things without thinking them through, then sure, you were the leader."

"Ah, but where's the fun without a little risk?" Sukuna said.

You tilted your head. "And not missing the risk? Or did the thrill get too much for you?"

"The thrill, dear, never gets too much for me. It's just that I found a bigger game to play. One where the stakes are higher, and the victories, more satisfying. Running a university, shaping the future of medicine — that's where the real power lies."

You stepped closer to him. "So, this is all about power for you? Need to compensate for shortcomings elsewhere?" Without breaking eye contact, you picked up Sukuna's drink, taking a measured sip. "Or could it be that you seek power as a convenient escape from the harsh truth of your own irrelevance in the field of medical research?"

Sukuna's eyes traced over your form, a smirk playing on his lips. "Oh, I see why you like her, Toru."

"Only just realizing that now?" Satoru quipped with a smirk.

Sukuna retrieved the glass from your grasp, his fingers brushing against yours, and took a sip himself. "I'm quite intrigued to hear that lecture of yours."

"Make sure to listen well, you might learn a thing or two. After all, neurosurgery evolves rapidly, and you've been out of the game for quite some time."

Satoru approached you. "Don't tear him apart completely, sweetheart."

"Don't worry, Toru. I can handle a bit of attitude," Sukuna shot back with a grin.

As the evening progressed, the alcohol flowed freely, mostly from Sukuna's glass but Satoru didn't shy away either. You found yourself the only sober one left, Sukuna's teasing escalating in equal measure with his alcohol intake.

Sukuna draped an arm around your shoulder, the scent of alcohol clear as he spoke. "This man here used to be the life of every party," he pointed with his finger to Satoru, "there wasn't a dare he wouldn't take or a line he wouldn't cross. Isn't that right, Toru?"

"Those were different times," Satoru, who had been lining up his shot, paused, offering a tight-lipped smile. "We were just kids doing stupid things."

"But they're unforgettable," Sukuna persisted. "Especially that one night you decided to break the university record for the most girls fucked in a single night. How many was it again?"

The air thickened with tension, Sukuna's provocations cutting deeper with each word.

Why was he doing this?

It felt like Sukuna was intentionally trying to provoke you.

"Maybe we should get back to the game, Sukuna. Your shot," Satoru said.

But Sukuna was relentless. "Oh, but the best parts are yet to come. Like your experimental phase. How many substances did you try to 'expand your mind'? Always on the lookout for the next high, weren't you?"

Wait.

Sukuna knew too?

Why hadn't Satoru mentioned any of this to you?

You felt sick—a tight knot forming in your stomach. You glanced at Satoru, noting the tension in his jaw.

"Sukuna, that's enough," Satoru's voice held a warning edge.

"What? I'm just reminiscing about the good old days," Sukuna said, his tone falsely innocent. "Unless... there are parts of your past you're not so proud of?"

You felt a chill run down your spine.

The way Sukuna wielded these stories like weapons, the ease with which he stripped bare Satoru's vulnerabilities, was nothing short of cruel.

You watched the scene unfold before your eyes. Witnessing. Unable to say anything. Perhaps a part of you wanted to hear it. Hear what Satoru had done in his past. Hear every dirty secret of the man you had fallen for, as you looked into his beautiful blue eyes.

You could see the strain in Satoru's posture, the effort it took for him to maintain his composure. It was clear that Sukuna's words had struck a nerve, peeling back layers of Satoru's past he had hoped to keep hidden.

Satoru set his pool cue down with more force than necessary. "Sukuna, what are you trying to do here? We all have things in our past we'd rather leave there. I'm no exception. But I've moved on. I suggest you do the same."

Sukuna raised an eyebrow, unfazed. "Oh, come on, Toru. It's not like you to shy away from who you are. Or has this precious student of yours made you forget who you really are?" His grip on your shoulder tightened, the pressure suffocating.

You felt awful. Every point of contact with Sukuna felt awful. Dirty.

You unwound from Sukuna's hold. "It's late, I'll go to my room."

As you started to walk away, Satoru's hand wrapped around your wrist, stopping you. "Please, wait. Don't leave."

"Satoru, I can't just stand here while he taunts you for his own amusement, and you shouldn't either. Come with me."

"He's just messing around. It's been ages since we've been together."

"Don't you see? He's a bad influence, Satoru. It's time to call it a night, for both of us."

Satoru sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Sukuna's an old friend. Our history is complicated, but he's not all bad."

"Are you really that blind?" you questioned, freeing yourself from his grip. "Satoru, you should get some rest. We have a lecture tomorrow." With that, you turned and left the bar, leaving Satoru and Sukuna alone in the bar.

You had enough for the night.

─── ·✧· ───

You couldn't sleep.

You tossed and turned in your bed over and over, but sleep eluded you.

The hotel's corridors remained quiet. You didn't hear any sign of Satoru's return.

The digital clock on your bedside table had just flickered to 2:47 AM when you heard soft knocking on your door. Barefoot, you crossed the room, the carpet cool under your feet. You were wearing only a loose shirt and underwear as you opened the door.

Satoru stood before you, a hand bracing against the doorframe. His hair was disheveled, clothes rumpled. The hallway light cast deep shadows over his face, accentuating the tiredness in his eyes and the unusual pallor of his skin.

Your heart tightened at the sight.

"Satoru, what's—"

"I... I need to be with you," he barely whispered, the strain evident in his voice.

You reached out, your fingers lightly caressing his face, pushing back the damp strands of hair from his forehead. "What happened, Satoru? Did you—"

"No," he cut in hastily, straightening a bit to meet your gaze more directly. "I didn't take anything. It's just—," he paused, his brows furrowed as he glanced away, "I wanted to so damn hard. I needed it so damn hard, to feel...better."

"Come inside," you said, stepping aside to let him into your room, closing the door with a quiet click behind him.

He moved hesitantly, as though unsure of his welcome. But you urged him inward. He walked into your hotel room, where he sat down onto the bed, his head in his hands.

"It's bad," he admitted after a moment, his voice muffled. "I thought I could manage it, but..."

You approached him, drawing him into an embrace where his head rested against your stomach, your fingers gently combing through his hair. "Talk to me. What happened?"

"Sukuna knows how to push all the wrong buttons." A bitter laugh escaped him. "I should have known better. It just brought everything back. The urge, the need—it's clawing at me."

"But you didn't give in," you said. "That's what matters."

"Does it? Because right now, it feels like I'm losing my mind."

"You're not losing your mind."

His gaze lifted to meet yours, there was a raw vulnerability in his eyes that stole the air from your lungs. It was fear — fear of addiction, fear of a possible relapse and, perhaps most of all, fear of losing you. "I'm sorry, I should have left with you. I shouldn't have let you go. I should have punched Sukuna in the face for what he said to you."

"It's okay. Sukuna is part of your past, it's not easy to cut ties with someone who's been important in your life. I get it. But still, you're stupid."

"Don't be so understanding. Hate me at least a little bit."

Yeah, you were angry with him, angry that he didn't see that Sukuna was an asshole, that he deliberately tried to rile him you and Satoru up for his own sick amusement.

But how could you be angry with him now?

Not when he was so vulnerable.

Not when you could feel the slight trembling in his body.

Not when you could literally feel his craving to get high.

But he didn't. He resisted. Because he promised you to.

Satoru let out a weary sigh, his shoulders slumping. "I don't want to drag you into this mess. You deserve so much more than someone who can't even get his act together."

"But that's not for you to decide," you said. "I'm here, Satoru, because I want to be. Because I care about you. Through struggles and all."

"Even after what Sukuna said about me?"

"Are you asking me if I find you being a whore in your university days worse than you being an addict?" You arched an eyebrow. "Satoru, if I were easily deterred, I would have left the first time I found you high. I think we're past the point where anything about you could scare me away."

Satoru's laughter held a touch of bitterness as he rested his head against your stomach again. His hands trailed up your back, fingers tracing delicate patterns along your spine, sending shivers coursing through your body. "I don't deserve you."

"You're right, you really don't."

In one swift motion, he lifted your shirt, his warm breath cascading over your bare skin. His lips followed suit, planting tender kisses along the base of your ribcage, gradually traversing across your stomach. Each gentle touch elicited a soft sigh from you.

"God, you're beautiful," he murmured, every word a caress against your skin. "Every inch of you is perfect."

You gazed down at him. "Satoru, what—"

His tongue darted out to lick and kiss the contours of your waist, each movement deliberate and unhurried. Each brush of his lips sent a wave of yearning through you, forcing your body to arch towards him, each touch a silent plea for more.

"I know I'm being selfish," he whispered, his hands finding their place on your hips, drawing you closer to him. "But fuck, I need you now."

He wanted to stop, dear reader. He really did.

He felt awful. But he couldn't. Simply couldn't.

He needed you.

Needed you like air.

Needed you like drugs.

And you obliged.

Without hesitation, you gently pushed him back and straddled him. His arms enveloped you, pulling you close as you leaned in to capture his lips.

His lips tasted like alcohol — they tasted like him.

His lips moved slowly and deliberately at first, tracing the contours of yours as if mapping out every curve. Then, his kiss became more urgent, more demanding. Tongue danced with tongue, awakening a hunger that neither of you could ignore.

"Are you sure about this?" he murmured between kisses, his breath warm against your skin.

"Yes," you responded equally breathlessly.

He released your lips, trailing tender kisses down the side of your neck. His hands wandered under your shirt, caressing the smooth skin of your waist and back.

He kissed down to the base of your neck, where your collarbones met. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes as though committing your scent to memory. Then he traced the delicate line of your bone structure with his tongue, making you shiver.

You closed your eyes and let out a soft moan, surrendering entirely to him.

You began to grind against him, savoring the rough texture of his pants against your bare skin. Your fingers entwined in his hair as you leaned further into him, feeling his arousal pressing against you. You wanted him inside you, needed him to claim you completely.

He tilted his head back, strained moans escaping his throat—fuck, he was so hot when he moaned. You could feel his muscles tense, his breath hitching with every subtle shift of your hips. You felt him growing harder, his arousal swelling against your core.

He plunged forward once more, planting a wet, open-mouthed kiss right on the hollow of her throat. The suddenness of the move left you breathless. You clutched his shoulders tightly, trying to ground yourself in the rising tide of longing.

Slowly, he worked his way back up your neck, each kiss more intense than the last. By the time his lips returned to yours, you were panting heavily, your mind spinning with need.

"God, I want you so badly right now," he muttered hoarsely, his eyes fixed on your parted lips.

"Then fuck me already," you replied boldly, your heart pounding in your ears.

He grinned wickedly.

Without breaking stride, he let himself fall onto the bed behind him and dragged you with him. He pushed you up onto him. His hands roamed over your thighs as he guided you to sit on his face.

Satoru wasted no time. He pushed your underwear aside with one hand, the other hand held you in place, fingers digging into your waist. Then his tongue darted forth to claim you, teasing you, causing you to gasp aloud.

Savoring your initial reaction, he continued to tease you, licking your clit with expert precision. His tongue plunged deep into your core, tracing circles around your clit before flickering rapidly across its tip.

He slid one finger inside you, curling it upward to press directly against the inner wall of you. As he continued to thrust into you, you moaned, feeling your walls tighten around him in response. "You taste so good, I can't get enough of you," he purred, adding another finger as you cried out.

He began to move his fingers in a steady rhythm, driving himself deeper and harder into your core. Your legs began to tremble, overwhelmed by the sensation of his fingers stroking your insides as his tongue continued to lick and suck your sensitive clit.

"Yes, right there...oh God!" You cried out as he hit all the right spots. Somehow that man seemed to perfectly understand precisely what you needed to push you beyond the point of mere pleasure and into the realm of wild, unbridled ecstasy.

"Come for me, beautiful," he urged, his warm breath against your skin drawing another moan from you. "Give yourself up to me completely."

Between his fingers and his talented tongue, you quickly approached a fever pitch. You cried out his name as the tension finally broke. Satoru pushed his fingers deeper into you than ever before, enjoying the way your walls contracted around him as you rode out your orgasm.

Breathless, you tried to regain your composure as Satoru continued to lazily lick your clit, making your legs twitch. "You get so fucking tight when you come," he said, then meticulously licked you all up and placed a final kiss on your clit.

You let yourself fall to the side of him. He rolled over to be on top of you in an instant. He wiped his mouth with the flat of his hand before his lips found yours again. The taste of you still lingered on his lips as Satoru deepened the kiss.

His hand reached up and gripped the side of your throat tightly, adding just enough pressure to make you moan into the kiss. Your hands began to move restlessly across his chest, clutching his shirt and pulling him closer.

You couldn't help but notice the way his shirt hugged his broad shoulders, the way his hair fell in soft strands around his face. Then you reached out and unbuttoned his shirt, revealing the hard muscles of his torso underneath.

"God, you drive me wild," he rasped, reaching out to stroke the inside of your parted thighs. "The sight of you alone makes me insane." His lips brushed against your neck, trailing kisses along the length of you throat.

Your hands slid down, fingers deftly working at the buckles of his belt. "Take me, Satoru. Don't hold back. Use me however you need me," you whispered as you impatiently tugged at the leather strap.

"Don't say that." Satoru's eyes darkened as he watched you work at his belt, his fingers trembling slightly. When the belt finally came loose, you pushed at his pants, urging them downward until they pooled around his knees.

"Why?" you breathed, your gaze locked with his.

"Because I can't hold back if you say things like that."

"I don't want you to hold back. I want to feel every inch of you inside me, Satoru. Now. Please." With that, you leaned in, capturing his lips in a searing kiss, your body craving his heat and his touch.

At your words, Satoru felt a primal surge course through his veins. You offered yourself to him willingly, with no reservations whatsoever. It was an invitation he couldn't refuse — one that left him reeling with desire. He stripped off the rest of his clothes, leaving only his bare skin exposed.

Satoru grabbed you by the waist and rolled you over, pulling your underwear down.

You gasped as his hands slid down your back, caressing the smooth skin of your back before he lifted you just enough to be at perfect angle to him. You moaned softly, pressing against him as he positioned himself behind you.

He paused for a second, savoring the sight of you before him, the one who had captured his heart and soul in such a short time. It still didn't seem real — that someone like you would choose to be with someone like him.

You gasped as he started to push inside you, stretching you slowly but surely with each inch. As he sank deeper into you, he knew that he would do everything in his power to make you happy, to protect you, to love you.

But right now he only wanted to fuck you like you deserved it.

He grabbed onto your waist, pulling you back against him so he could delve even further into your depths. You moaned as he began to thrust into you, deep and hard, filling you completely. Each time he pulled out almost completely, before he slammed into you again and again.

Your head fell forward, your hair cascading down your face. Each time Satoru pushed deeper into you, low moans escaped his parted lips, his head thrown back. "You feel so good...so right..."

You closed your eyes, your fingers digging into the crisp white sheets below you as Satoru moved behind you. Your senses were on fire, every nerve ending ablaze with the intensity of his touch as you felt Satoru's fingers digging deeply into your skin, leaving bruises that would linger long after tonight was over.

Satoru's hands then moved up your chest underneath your shirt, pulling you close and up against his muscular frame. You're back against his chest as he continued to thrust deeper and deeper into you. His other hand found your throat, grabbing it tightly as you arched into him. His breath hot against your neck as he moaned into your ear.

He quickened his pace, each thrust more fervent than the last. It was almost too much. Sill, you craved more — needed more. "Please, Satoru. Make me yours."

He obeyed, slamming into you with renewed force, pushing you harder and faster toward your orgasm. Every inch of your being focused solely on the sensation of his thick shaft filling you, making you feel alive in a way you never thought possible.

As Satoru continued to move inside you, you felt his hand reach up, parting your lips. Your heart skipped a beat as he slid two fingers into your mouth, pushing them deep inside. You gasped slightly, the sensation electric as he thrust his fingers into your mouth.

You moaned loudly, your head falling back as you surrendered completely to his will. In that moment, nothing else existed outside of the two of you. You didn't care if anyone would hear you. All that mattered was the overwhelming rush that pulsed through you, threatening to consume you whole.

With a sudden force, Satoru withdrew his fingers and pushed you forward, forcing you down on all fours. He wrapped his hand in your hair and yanked your head back sharply, causing you to cry out.

Without hesitation or mercy, he drove himself inside you, pain and pleasure melded seamlessly together. His hips pumped fiercely, pounding into you with an intensity that took your breath away. He gripped your hair even tighter, pushing you further and further towards the edge.

Your walls clenched tightly around him, desperate for release. And when you finally reached your peak, your cries blended seamlessly with his own moans. Satoru's body convulsed with the intensity of his climax as he released inside you. You could feel his muscles contract with each pulse of his ejaculation.

As you both tried to regain your composure and your breathing steadied, Satoru leaned in close, his warm breath caressing your skin. "How do I even deserve you," he whispered huskily.

You turned your head to meet his gaze. "Are you feeling better now?" you asked, the words slipping awkwardly from your lips as you felt a trail of fluid running down your inner thigh.

He leaned in closer, pressing a gentle kiss on your back before pulling out of you, wincing slightly as he did so. Satoru then collapsed next to you, one arm flung over his forehead, the other behind his head.

Despite his heavy breathing and the slight furrow in his brows, a tender smile graced his features, the dimples on his cheeks deepening. "Yeah," he exhaled with a long sigh. "I feel fucking great."

Turning on his side to face you, his features were illuminated by the soft moonlight filtering through the window. He tenderly brushed a lock of hair from your forehead, tracing its path down to your cheekbone, he caressed your skin with utmost tenderness.

"Do you want to know what I thought when I first saw you?"

"What?"

"I thought, this woman knows her way around a challenging aneurysm like no one I've ever seen.'" His hand lingered on your cheek, the warmth of his touch caressing your skin. "It was... captivating to say the least. And beyond that, you were absolutely breathtaking."

"Captivating or arrogant to challenge you like that?"

He chuckled. "A bit arrogant, perhaps." His smile broadened. "Yet, I remember thinking, this woman is going to be the end of me.'"

"You're just saying that because you're flooded with oxytocin right now."

"No, it's the truth." He leaned in closer, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, a moment so full of emotion it seemed to pause time. "You are everything I've ever wanted," he whispered, affirming his words with another kiss.

"And I'm definitely going to talk to Sukuna tomorrow," he added.

"You don't have to. I'm a big girl, Satoru. I can defend myself."

"Yeah, I've seen that," he laughed.

Glancing at the clock, you sighed. "We should try to catch some sleep. We've got that lecture in like five hours."

"Sleep sounds good." Satoru shifted and pulled you closer into his embrace. You nestled into his arms, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your chest. The warmth of his body enveloped you, soothing the lingering tension of the night.

As you drifted into a peaceful slumber, wrapped in each other's embrace, you knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, you would face them together.

─── ·✧· ───

<- prev chapter | next chapter ->

x a/n: to be honest, i don't really like this chapter myself, but i've been editing forever, so i'll just post it now and hope i can make up for it in the next one. kinda afraid that satoru comes off like an asshole in this chapter, but he's just having a bad withdrawal day D: he'll protect our dear reader again in the next chapter, as he should! ♡

🏷️ @sad-darksoul @aerithsthingss @mylovelessnightmare @bbyxxm @musababy @neuviloved @ykehqqy @hexrts-anatomy @fvsm4x @tw0fvced @heijihattorisgf @sadmonke @thatsopanu @sirencholia @sugurusdiscordmoderator @erwinslut @shervinss @certainlysyko @mechalily @purplehallow11

#gojo saturo #jujutsu kaisen #gojo x reader #saturo gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo x you #gojo x female reader #jjk x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo smut #satoru gojo #gojou satoru x reader #jjk x you

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poppinspops · 23 days

Text

U WOULD NOT BELIEVE THE AMOUNT OF BRAIN POWER IT TOOK TO FINISH THIS. I was going mental having to listen to this song over and over again..

#lamina tbosas #lamina #lamina dervers more love #my love lamina #tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #edit #The hunger games edit #the hunger games #lamina thg #lamina the hunger games #sen yapping yaps

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runningfrom2am · 3 months

Text

cold nights // part twelve

summary: may the odds be ever in your favour.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 2.9k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, r is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.

a/n: i can't believe we made it to the end of s1! i am so, so excited to move on to the next era of this story! this is a reminder if you love this series and you haven't already please reblog this or the masterlist! it makes such a big big difference for me and my fellow writers know it all too well lol.

my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)

send me any and all of your thoughts! here!

series masterlist // playlist

Coriolanus wakes up, head on the open pages of Romeo and Juliet as people start to flood in, everyone anxious about what would happen to you.

He rubs the sleep out of his eyes, quickly casting his view to the screen ahead, camera view still locked on you. There was no one else for it to be tracking, after all. Except now, you were on Lamina's beam, lying down with your eyes closed. He wasn't sure if you were awake, or when you had even made your way down into the clearing, but you don't move. He can see the steady rise and fall of your chest as you lay with his scarf bunched up behind your head. Tigris was right, you had survived, but you wouldn't have without him. You looked peaceful- not at all like the girl he had seen crumbling apart on the same screen just a few hours prior.

"I feel as though I should inform you, they'll be going in very soon." Highbottom says, grabbing the boy's attention. "But I'd put my money on those boys being dead in there. Congratulations, Coriolanus. This means almost nothing for you."

He walks away before Coryo is even done processing what he had said. He wouldn't get the prize, most likely, but he would still have you.

You don't stir until you hear the peacekeepers entering the arena, sitting up and seeing them with guns pointed in your direction. "Don't move." One of them spits at you and you nod, eyes wide as you raise your hands. You watch as a designated team in different uniforms make their way up to enter the vents, and others spray something over the piles of snakes, stilling those that were still showing any signs of life.

"Is it over?" You ask, confused.

"Not until we can confirm you are the only remaining tribute." One of them answers and you nod, chewing on your lip as you watch the men disappear into the vents.

"Okay... Thank you."

You know what they would find in there, the bodies of the two boys trapped behind your salt line. You could tell them where the boys would be found, but then you'd be outing yourself. You had only confessed to Coryo. Only he could know. Last night, you didn't care. You have to assume he was the only one who witnessed your breakdown, your confession, because if anyone else had, you'd likely be dead by now. You have to hope your secret is safe with him if you want to go home.

The morning drags on forever as you sit there with guns pointed at you from the ground, and Coryo is pacing in the hall. There were many people around, excited to see if you would be crowned as the victor. People were rooting for you, and he was proud of that, but support didn't mean that you were promised a win.

Vipsania and Domitia were the only other two remaining mentors, whispering to each other across the room after they came back. It was eerily silent.

Then, one of the men emerges from the vent, turning all heads including yours as he just nods toward the peacekeepers watching you.

"Alright. Come on down." The same peacekeeper addresses you and you nod, a tear falling down your cheek.

"She did it." Coryo whispers to himself, realization forcing a grin onto his face.

Lucky laughs, clapping his hands together. "She's won! Y/N Y/L/N from District Twelve!" He calls out, making his way over to Coriolanus. "Coriolanus Snow is the Victor of the Tenth Annual Hunger Games!"

Coryo laughs in shock, smiling as the man pats his shoulder. He catches in the corner of his eye as his two classmates storm out, and he's quickly crowded with congratulations and praise.

"I won?" You ask quietly, feet landing on the ground again.

"Yes, they were found." He nods, and quickly your arms are being grabbed as you're led out of the arena.

"Do you know, did Coriolanus get his prize?" You ask them, but your question is ignored as you walk down the hall toward the exit, looking back over your shoulder as the gate is closed behind you.

Just outside the gates, you don't get much of a taste of freedom before you're being pushed into the back of the same truck. Empty. Bigger. Lonely.

"Empty your pockets." The peacekeeper tells you, standing at the entrance.

You do so hesitantly, holding up the compact on a shaky palm. "I'm sorry to ask, but can I have some water? Please?" You ask, once again ignored as the compact is pulled from your hand. "Please, sir, that was a gift... If you must take it can you return it to my mentor? Coriolanus Snow?"

He opens the cold metal, pulling out the piece of paper and unfolds it, quickly scanning it's contents. "That is for him, too. Though, if I had the chance now I would change it." You explain. You knew you both would be in deep trouble if you were caught for what you convinced yourself was no more than salt, and clarity came to you enough to lie about what the compact had contained all this time.

The peacekeeper hums, closing it up again and shoving both items into his own pocket, pointing the gun at you again. "Clothes off."

"Ex-excuse me?" You reply, taken aback by the request.

"Clothes off. Now." He repeats and you nod, swallowing the lump in your dry throat as you begin to slide off your dress, letting it fall at your feet. He moves the gun again, gesturing for you to continue. With trembling hands you remove your underthings, your shoes, and the scarf, placing them on the floor in front of you. He quickly gathers them, taking a step back and nodding to someone outside.

He moves out of the way and you stand there confused, watching as he shakes out your clothes and searches them, when suddenly you're being sprayed down with a hose. You yelp from the fast contact of the cold water pelting against your skin, but it wakes you up. After the initial shock, it actually feels good to be somewhat clean again.

You pant as the water is shut off, catching your breath and rubbing your arms to try and warm yourself again. Your clothes are tossed back into the truck at you before the door is slammed, and you use the scarf to try and dry yourself off a little bit before tying it around yourself the same way Coryo had. By the time you pull the second strap of your dress back on, the truck is moving and you're lurching forward.

You're driving for a while before the door is opened again, and you're relieved to get some fresh air. It was cold in there, and you were shivering in your small dress that was now also damp from your skin.

Once the doors open you're staring down the barrels of more guns as the peacekeepers usher you out and into the train station, right where you were let off all those days ago. Days... or weeks? You don't even know anymore.

"Lay off, why don't you? She's been through enough." A man in a black suit comes into your view, and they drop their weapons and let you go.

He steps in front of you and you wrap your arms around yourself to try and warm up. "Thank you, Sir." You smile, nodding at him politely.

"Nothing to thank me for..." He sighs. "I'm Dean Highbottom from the academy, it's a pleasure to meet you. Congratulations on your victory." Surprisingly to you, he doesn't seem inconvenienced. Someone other than Coryo and Sejanus seemed to be willing to talk to you, to treat you like a human again. When he congratulates you, he sounds sad.

"Thank you, Sir." You nod again. "Do I... Will I be going home now?"

"Yes. In just a few minutes." He nods, gesturing for you to follow him toward the train. "I am extremely familiar with your mentor, Coriolanus Snow." He tells you as you join his side.

"Oh, wonderful!" You force a smile. "I have some things for him, just a note and something he leant to me. I gave them to that man over there. Would you mind making sure they make it back to him?" You point out the peacekeeper as you follow him toward the train.

"I'll see to it that he gets it back, yes." Dean Highbottom nods with a slight roll of his eyes, stopping next to the stairs that would lead you onto the passenger train. "But... if I may offer you some advice?"

"Please." You nod, urging him on.

"Be grateful you survived him."

You want to ask what he means, but the anger you saw behind your friend's eyes that night in the arena would haunt you and you knew that. Surely, that's what the Dean is talking about.

"Yes." You agree, unsure what else to say when he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a stack of cash.

"Take this, your prize, I suppose." He hands it over to you. It must be hundreds of dollars. Maybe over a thousand. With this, you could do so much for your family. "Oh, and Miss Y/L/N... You wouldn't happen to know anything about the rat poison that was in that compact, would you?"

You tense up, tilting your head at him with a confused smile. "Poison? No... All I had put inside was salt." You reply. "Sejanus Plinth gave it to me, with food from his Ma. Salt is good for protection, you know, so I kept it for later. Keeps you safe from evil and harm." You ramble on, panic and shock in your tone. Sejanus had given you salt to put on some vegetables and sandwiches he brought you, but now that you're trying to piece the story together, you don't remember even opening the compact until you were in that vent. Coryo had told you not to open it, so you wouldn't have. Your own memory is confusing you.

"I've heard that." He nods, eyeing you skeptically.

The train horn makes you jump before you can even thank him.

"Go on, now." He urges you onto the train, deciding to let slide however you had came across the rat poison. Clearly, you didn't know what you had done. Or you were convincing yourself you didn't remember. "Enjoy your freedom."

You nod and step up onto the stairs. You were hoping you would get to see Coryo again, it disappointed you that you never would. Maybe it was a good thing you wrote your goodbye note, even if you had survived. "I give you, upon my knees, a thousand thanks." You smile to the man still standing on the ground below you who just nods in acknowledgment before you close the door behind yourself, Coryo's scarf still wrapped around your waist.

"Y/N?" Coryo calls out, walking into the high biology lab. He was told you had something for him, no doubt the scarf and the compact.

"She's gone." Dean Highbottom cuts in, just before Coryo spots him in the poorly lit room.

"I was told-"

"I know what you were told. Here." The Dean tells him, pointing to the metal compact on the table.

Coryo looks at it only briefly before returning his gaze to the man who offered it to him. "Where is she?"

"I wouldn't worry about that, Coriolanus. Your work is done." He explains vaguely. "Were you aware that she cheated?"

"Cheated?" Coryo asks. "How?" He feigns ignorance.

"The boys in the vents didn't die from snake venom, or violently, or, naturally- for that matter." The Dean tsk's. "It was rat poison. Which, before you argue with me, cannot be found inside the arena or even within reach of the monkey cage at the zoo. I checked. So be honest, you have no idea how she got her hands on such a substance?"

"No, I don't." Coryo lies. "But she did what she could to survive- don't take it out on her because she somehow cheated your games. Next year give them uniforms, or up security or something."

"Just thought I'd ask. She told me she got it from Plinth." He waves him off, and Coryo ticks his head in slight confusion.

"Sejanus? No, he-"

"She really... declined, in there." Highbottom cuts him off, making it evident that he at least believed that Sejanus wouldn't do such a thing. "Told me it was only salt. Genuinely, it seemed like she didn't know. Or, she forced herself to forget. A sweet girl like that, it doesn't surprise me that that's how she would rationalize her actions."

"Is she alive? Because if you killed her for that I-"

"You'll what, Mister Snow? I thought you said you just wanted the prize."

"She deserved better." He states simply, swallowing the anxiety building in his throat.

"She does. I agree." Highbottom nods. "Which is why you won't see her again."

Coryo furrows his brow. "I... I don't understand how that could be relevant."

"Oh, I know you do, Mister Snow." His superior replies, a condescending edge to his words.

Coryo snatches the compact off of the table and quickly pockets it, storming out of the room. At least he hadn't been caught for helping you cheat, though he was sure Highbottom knew better. Now, he didn't have the Plinth Prize, and he didn't have you.

When he finally got home, he couldn't help but slam the door behind himself.

"Coryo?" Tigris calls out, excited as she puts down the project she was working on and rushes to the entranceway to meet him. "I didn't expect you home so soon! Did you get to see Y/N?" Her smile fades when she sees his expression. "What's wrong?"

"They wouldn't let me see her. She's already gone." He explains, pulling off his blazer.

"Oh..." Tigris frowns, taking the blazer from him to hang it up. "I know you really wanted to say goodbye. I'm so sorry."

"She'll never forgive me." He shakes his head slightly. "If she's even still alive! I doubt they would tell me!" He laughs, bringing his hands up to rub his eyes with his palms.

"They wouldn't kill her, Coryo. People loved her too much." She is quickly reassuring, reaching out to rub his shoulders. "You did nothing wrong... You did all you could for her. She'll forgive you."

"Not that." He mutters. "It's what I told you. You didn't see the way she looked at me, Tigris. Like... Like I was a monster."

"She was already scared. She was way out of her element. I think now, that she's safe, she'll find the space to see it reasonably." She tries to soothe his worries as best she can. "You're a good friend to her, and she's a kind person. She'll understand."

"But I'll never know for sure that she does."

"You might one day... Don't beat yourself up about it, and don't give up on her."

After a long, two-day journey curled up on a bench on the train, you recognize the building the train is stopping at. Suddenly, all your energy is returned to you as it slows to a stop, and you're already waiting at the door. You hear the latch unlock and you couldn't get off fast enough.

No one you knew were there, not that you expected any kind of greeting party. You inhale the fresh air, once again surrounded by the trees and your own people. You walk out of the train station and down the street, in the general direction of your home. You tried waving at a few folks you knew on the way, but people just stared, for the most part, jaws slack with surprise. They had already grieved your death. Sometimes you were met with a sad smile, but no one wanted to speak to you. You understood. You were used to that after your time in the Capitol.

"Y/N Y/L/N, is that you?" An excited voice called after you resigned yourself to a quiet walk home, twenty minutes from the bustle of the train station. You turn your head to look up at the back entrance to the Hob, a wide smile taking over your face when you see the speaker.

Your friend is already barrelling toward you, throwing her arms around you as your eyes fill with happy tears. It was refreshing. "I never thought I'd see you again..." You sniff, resting your chin on her shoulder as you hug her back.

Rhythmically, your best friend sways you back and forth. "Oh, I know, I know, sweetheart..." She hums, rubbing your back reassuringly. You can hear her voice crack too. "But you're home now. You're okay..."

She lets you break down as she practically holds you up as you cry in each other's arms. From happiness or trauma, you're not sure. "I did some awful things, I regret it all..."

"Don't regret a thing." She shushes you. "You did what you had to."

"No, no... You don't know... You didn't see..."

"I watched, Hun. When I could." She pulls away, placing her hands on your cheeks to wipe your tears. "You did nothing wrong. All that matters is that you're home now."

You sniff again with a slight nod. "I fear too early, for my mind misgives; Some consequence, yet hanging in the stars, shall bitterly begin."

"No... Y/N/N. You're safe here. You are forgiven." She assures you, rubbing your arms. "Now, let's get you home. A good rest will do you well, your parents have been waitin' on you." She waits for you to nod before stepping to your side, guiding you in the right direction with an arm around your waist.

"Thank you, Lucy Gray." You mumble, allowing yourself to lean into her hold.

taglist: @soulessjourney , @that-veela-girl , @dreamyysouls , @rockstarbfs , @maysileeewrites , @baybieruth , @kitscutie , @fratboyharrysgf0201 , @totallynotkaibiased , @stelleduarte , @secretsicanthideanymore , @bejeweledreverie , @drewsandsebastianswife , @niicole-87 , @queenofshinigamis , @innercreationflower , @nallasstuff , @scorpiolystoned , @iovemoonyy , @thatmarvelchick19 , @wearemadeofstardust0 , @regulusblackcore , @puredreamagination , @fantasticchaosthing , @becauseseaotters , @secretsicanthideanymore

okay suddenly tumblr isn't letting me tag more people than this so i just made some cuts unfortunately :') i just left the max amount of people i could whose users i recognized and see in my notifs all the time :) if you're not on here and you should be i'm so sorry!

also this taglist is closed now!! if you’d like to get a notification when i update, turn on my post notifications!! i promise i won’t spam y'all :,)

#tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas fanfiction #tbosas x reader #tbosas fic #hunger games #thg series #thg #thg fanfiction #the hunger games #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus fanfiction #coryo snow #coryo x reader #snow x reader #snow lands on top

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laminasnumber1fan · 8 days

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THIS is where lamina and treech lived.

not this.

#treech is life and life is treech #treemina #lamina my baby #lamina tbosas #treech #tbosas #treech x lamina #lamina pookie #treech i love you #i promise im not crazy #district 7 #johanna mason

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sejjiplinth · 5 months

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i need to talk about treech and lamina’s relationship in the movie because oh my god???

the scene right before the bombing where coral recruits treech into her alliance… the fact that he thinks she’s talking to both him AND lamina when she says “hey, lumberjack!” (😭) and when he accepts, he hesitantly looks back at her, he almost doesn’t leave!!!! but he does. and lamina gasps and starts to tear up. it makes me think he’d already told her they would stay together during the games <\3

coral refers to lamina as his “friend from home” when she tells him to go watch the beam she’d been on, i can’t help but assume they’d stayed close to one another in the zoo. (and of course i do personally think they were friends back in district seven, either that or they were childhood friends that met again in the worse way possible.)

when coral and mizzen finally attack lamina, coral stabs her in the back. she looks at the blood on her hand, but the first person she looks at is treech. you can sense how angry she is there, he’d betrayed her. the camera pans to him and he’s wide-eyed, literally about to back away from the scene. then when she actually dies, it shows him slowly moving back in, lingering over her body. and he’s the last one to rejoin the group once they started to chase after lucy gray. the guilt is so strong!

(hiroki was absolutely amazing btw. so was irene!!! i wish they had more screentime because wow.)

i didn’t know it was possible, but they made the 10th games even more devastating in the movie. but i loved that they added this dynamic. really emphasizes that they were all just scared kids who wanted to latch onto each other and go home :(

#tbosas movie spoilers!#i had to talk about them in depth somewhere like omg #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #lamina tbosas #treech tbosas #the hunger games #tbosas

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itsbuckytm · 5 months

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Yooooo!!! That Snow fic you recently released involving the reader and Treech being in love? Absolute masterpiece! So hear me out: what if you wrote about their connection and how it progressed? Like, before Coryo got his clutches on the reader. There was a moment you described where Treech and the reader snuck out, I’m pretty sure. I’d love to see a story on that. Maybe end it with those dying words you mentioned? Just utter fluff with that heartbreak of an ending.

Capitol's love birds. / Treech

summary : being Snow's twin meant being exactly like him, even though your appearances were slightly different. As a mentor yourself, you were assigned to District 7's male tribute, Treech. it was only in the wagon on its way to the Capitol that the chemistry first sparked, ultimately solidifying your status as the Capitol's favorite lovebirds.

ps ; english is not my native language, and I appreciate seeing your requests for ideas that I may not have thought of. Hopefully, you find the suggestions helpful. please refrain from plagiarizing my work without my permission or proper credit, as doing so may result in being flagged or banned. thank you.

Mentoring proved to be a challenging responsibility, but the greatest struggle arose when love entered the picture. However, this was no ordinary affection; it was a type of love that some might view as disgraceful, while others perceived it as a form of admiration amid the Games. Although Treech wasn't particularly interested in getting to know his mentor, let alone encountering them in another restricted enclosure, it was within those confines that the two of you crossed paths. Despite being Snow's twin traditionally constantly at his side, it was unquestionable that you, too, were destined to trail behind him to discover who your tribute was.

While taking pride in mentoring someone from a district not situated at the lowest rungs of Panem's hierarchy, you were fortunate enough to maintain a semblance of dignity, given the reputation of the district you represented for its familiarity with victory. However, Lucy Gray Baird's captivating performance, the talk of the town since the reaping, cast shadows of doubt over your confidence. All of this, while your brother engaged with fellow tributes, attempting his best to establish his temptation not to gith back.

You couldn't help but notice the stark class distinctions. Dust still clung to their attire, indicating a lack of access to basic amenities like showers before arriving. A twinge of sympathy crept in. "What's a pretty face doing here?" Reaper Ash remarked, catching you off guard. Initially assuming the comment was directed at Coriolanus, you soon realized it was aimed squarely at you. The revelation that you, too, were to become a mentor became apparent. And that the unspoken pressure to make a positive first impression on the fortunate second tribute who had the early opportunity to meet you loomed large. But Ash simply laughed at your brother’s reaction by ordering you stay behind him. Although poorly as his arm performed itself as a fence initiating to any tributes not to go further. "Relax, pretty boy. I won't touch her. Just asking for a friend, that's all."

That friend happened to be Treech, whose imposing silhouette positioned itself in front of you a little closer this time. His gaze had been fixed on you from the moment he laid eyes on you. While you initially attributed it to natural human interaction, the persistent feeling of being scrutinized lingered throughout. It seemed as if Treech was almost surprised or even deceived to have you as his mentor, likely influenced by how your brother had fared so far. "Looking for District 7." You mentioned exchanging quick glances with the tributes to assess who would be best with an axe.

As expected, your eyes landed on the red-headed girl who endeavored to present herself as the ideal candidate for you. "A boy." Your brother corrected, noticing as Lamina stood up, but Treech, adopting a protective stance, advised her to remain behind, much like your twin had done. After all it was a one-on-one game for the time being. "That must be my lucky one." Treech expressed sarcastically, stating it as a matter of fact, causing a subtle pink shade to color your cheeks – a reaction you tried hard to control. After all, it was your very first time you had seen someone outside the District ever. "You get to have the other pretty one." Ash teased playfully, suggesting that, despite Treech's charming demeanor, he was seemingly destined for a grim fate in the arena upon arrival. “I’m a little jealous.” Ash generously said.

Upon reaching the Capitol, you and your brother were taken aback as you discovered an unforeseen aspect of the tributes' journey. The initial understanding was that Flickerman, the Capitol's esteemed journalist, would be present to introduce each tribute upon their arrival. However, what they were unaware of was the presence of two mentors among the tributes, perhaps trespassing without official permission. This, however, was a matter for another time. Despite the somewhat unconventional transportation, Treech remained fixated on you throughout the journey to the Capitol. He seemed entranced by the striking resemblance between you and your brother, sparking a sense of compassion. Observing your interactions and the way you closely accompanied your brother, it was rumored that you were akin to his pet, only permitted to speak when approved by Coriolanus. Despite his disdain for the District, your brother demonstrated a surprising degree of protectiveness towards you, although in the midst of the situation, allowed some space during the encounter with your tribute in an unexpected location.

Fortunately, your keen observation allowed you to realize that you were reaching your destination, a detail that eluded many, including Coryo himself. Swiftly grasping your twin’s arm, a gesture he had ensured, the sudden tilt of the wagon hinted at the possibility of your feet slipping and sliding. Treech's eyes widened at your momentary clumsiness, seizing the opportunity to support you. As your back met the uncomfortable mud of the Zoo, he was determined not to lose his mentee on the spot.

Cameras focused intently on both you and your brother, eliciting a crowd reaction filled with exclamations such as, "It's Snow's boy!" Swiftly, the onlookers noticed your presence next to your brother, who rose and asserted himself. There you stood, a captivating spectacle, with Treech's arm securing your waist and his unwavering gaze fixed on yours. A sly smirk played on his lips as the rest of the crowd declared your presence as well. "And look! The other Snow!" The citizens of the Capitol, already entranced by the presence of the twin siblings on their tributes' first day, began expressing confidence in your victory. This added an additional layer of challenge for the other mentors who were absent from this captivating spectacle. "It's your cue, princess."

"Princess" was the first word he used to address you. Ironically, it took you a moment to realize that all the cameras were focused on you. Your brother had already made his mark, keeping a careful eye to ensure your tribute didn't make any missteps, especially when it came to touching you. However, you were completely under Treech's influence. With a confident smile, he waved at the cameras, making it a bit easier for you to face the potential embarrassment later at home. "She's alright!" He assured, shifting his gaze quickly to your relieved brother. He could have sworn he saw a few Capitol ladies, with similar makeup to yours, watching in awe at how Treech gallantly assisted you. As he watched the scene unfold with Lucy and Snow not far away, he too decided to play the role of the Capitol's love bird.

As preparations for the 10th Hunger Games were underway, Flickerman's team mandated interviews with every tribute each year. From the very beginning, you managed to establish trust with Treech, a bond that proved beneficial. Not only did you ensure he was well-fed, but you also took the initiative to fetch Lamina additional food, given her mentor's apparent neglect. Treech appreciated the maternal role you assumed for Lamina. On one occasion, he confessed that he would go to great lengths for her, even if it meant risking his own life to secure her victory as the final tribute. It was all in the pursuit of making District 7 proud once again, for a Lumberjack always harbors a wealth of secrets up their sleeves.

During his time at the Zoo, Treech found increased joy in your company, particularly when you accompanied him for a quick visit to the arena. Following suit with other tributes, he decided to take the initiative in making the first move. It happened on that initial day when he casually attempted to hold your hand, his fingers gently intertwining with yours. You discreetly glanced at him, careful not to make it too obvious given the presence of the assigned tributes and their mentors. With Coriolanus behind you taking notice. Yet, observing Treech's attempts to connect with you, he sensed a deeper connection between the two of you. Realizing this, your elder sibling understood the need to strengthen his bond with Lucy. To Treech's delight, he could only imagine your brother envying a love that he would never receive in return.

With insider knowledge of the arena and sneaky routes into the Academy, Treech and you managed to slip away after the arena visit. Observing his interaction back with District 4's tribute and noticing his vigilance, a few teases were all it took to provoke Treech into throwing a punch, especially when faced with comments like. "Your girlfriend wouldn't mind if I speak with you?" While it was clear that others were aware of your connection, Treech dismissed it as a mere game, refusing to believe that it held any deeper significance. However, his sentiments towards you had sparked an unexpected depth of emotion within him. "Just a reminder." He sternly directed at the other tribute, his gaze darkening with offense. Spotting you behind him with Lamina by your side, Treech asserted. "You don't speak such filth about Y/N." The onlookers chuckled at his protectiveness and the evident depth of his emotions. "Or else?" They added, challenging anyone who dared to disrespect you.

"Or else, I won't hesitate to cut your head off with my axe. Watch yourself, because I can do it in the blink of an eye." With those words, Treech revealed what you truly meant to him. He could vividly recall Snow's concerned gaze as he tried to pull you away from the escalating situation. However, you had refused that day, meeting Treech's eyes the entire time after discussing the tributes he would be teamed with. "For Lamina's sake," You had pleaded, urging him to be cautious. "Those individuals only seek your vulnerability. They may be from District 4, but they don't understand the power of an axe." Was what Treech said reassuring you with a smile. A smile you’ll never forget.

In that very moment, you decided to take Treech with you for a clandestine escape from the arena. It was a day when even the tributes were granted the freedom to either stay at the arena for practice or wander under the watchful eyes of the Peacekeepers. However, Treech and you had a different agenda. You used the excuse of wanting to make his training more convenient as a cover. For some inexplicable reason, you had the approval of Dr. Gaul, who only instructed that Treech needed to return to the Zoo before midnight. It seemed that being Snow's twin had its perks after all.

Upon your arrival at the Academy's Greenhouse, both of you maintained a quiet atmosphere. This place held a special significance for you, offering tranquility during moments of anxiety or family pressure. Though it was suspected that you were in charge of the Greenhouse, under your grandmother's watchful eye and constant reminders to enjoy tending to flowers like she did, you chose to share this haven with Treech. It was the same place where you had once spoken briefly to him, and he was thrilled not only to spend time alone with you but also to witness the real person behind the facade of prestige and elegance showcased in public. Trying to ease the slight tension, Treech remarked. "You know, I'd be damned to see your brother's face if he were here." It was a fact that you were gradually opening up to someone who was once a stranger but had become someone you deeply loved. "Brother could care less; he has Lucy wrapped around his finger right now.” You added, acknowledging the complexities of your relationships within the family.

A smirk played across Treech's face, revealing his amusement at the thought of your brother feeling jealous. Although they were in similar positions, this time the connection between you and Treech was authentic, not just for show. Playful teasing began to permeate every event at the Academy, serving as a tactic to expose vulnerabilities in both of you. However, with Treech's mentor skills and the insights gained from your brother's tips, he honed his skills and strength, making it increasingly difficult for others to exploit weaknesses or gain his trust. "And would it be fair to say that I, too, have my little finger entirely wrapped around you, Princess?" He added, playfully reciprocating the banter.

His words caused a warm blush to spread across your cheeks, especially when he directed his attention toward you during wound care in practice. The worry in your eyes whenever he made a slight mistake was met with a reassuring thumbs-up and the smile you cherished. There were moments when it became challenging for him to stay focused, particularly when he saw you engaged in conversations with your other classmates. Despite the casual nature of those interactions, he couldn't resist the urge to draw your attention back to him. In response, you chuckled softly, suggesting a meeting on the rooftop of the Greenhouse to admire the stars. "Anything that involves being with you, I'll gladly say yes." He replied with a smile. “You know, I love when you blush more. Especially for me.”

Without uttering a word, you playfully dismissed his comment, rolling your eyes in a teasing manner. You extended your hand, a gesture he effortlessly accepted. "Show me the way, Princess." He said, and together, you ascended the stairs. Luck was on your side as you reached the rooftop just as the sun of the Capitol dipped below the horizon, signaling the arrival of dawn. The sky was clear, and the stars of Panem glittered above, creating a breathtaking scene just for the two of you. "Looks like I'm the lucky one." He marveled at the view. "Having a beautiful face to look at and a beautiful scenery to enjoy all to myself. I'd be damned not to win these Games and return home to a beautiful angel." He confessed, and this time, he genuinely meant every word.

On the other hand, you remained completely silent. Initially, you wanted to express your gratitude, but as the Games drew nearer, uncertainty crept in, even with Treech's skills. The looming uncertainty, especially regarding Lucy's well-being and Snow's single-minded pursuit of victory, left you unsure. Despite your love for your brother, his focus was solely on winning, regardless of the familial bond. Treech noticed the tension as the two of you sat next to the bench, and he tried to bring you closer. In an unexpected reaction, you flinched—a rare occurrence. "Hey—" Treech began, but he immediately noticed your slightly swollen face and your eyes fighting back tears. The man you loved had become, overnight, a complete stranger at best. "Look at me, Y/N." He pleaded, adopting a worried tone as you broke down in front of him. The situation must have been incredibly embarrassing for you.

"What's wrong?" His voice softened as he looked at you, tender care evident in his gaze. He took immense pride in having you as his partner during the Games and falling in love with the most exceptional mentors he could have ever asked for. He harbored concerns about the possibility of you crying over his lifeless body, should the worst come to pass. The thought of hearing you scream his name filled him with worry, although he made a concerted effort not to show it. His overarching plan was to make you proud and, above all, to be loved by you until his very last breath.

"Have you ever genuinely fallen in love?" Your question resonated with Treech. Of course, he loved you. You were an unexpected and, ironically, his first love. And so for you. The circumstances of your meeting might not have been ideal, but as long as he was with you, that's all that mattered. And if things worked in his favor, it was not just for him but for Lamina as well, given that she often regarded you as someone she could trust. "Like genuinely." You added, trying your best not to burst into laughter. Your tears didn't make it any easier, giving you a slightly maniacal tone.

“Of course, and that person is sitting right in front of me.” His eyes not taking his gaze from you. How he watched you loosing yourself entirely in the moment of a mere seconds. Your old habits resurging as you would try to numb the pain of your fingers by scratching the very last skin until it bled. To which Treech could not help to notice the moment he had met you. He grabbed your fingers, making you to stop it quickly as he began to peck every single fingers. “And I have made a promise to myself, that if I’d ever win. That we will be reunited together. Build a family, run away together. Be the lovebirds the Capitol wants us to be.”

A mixture of remorse and relief surged through you as you heard every word from Treech, assuring you that he would stay alive and well. If only you could muster the same confidence he exuded. Despite your attempts, he gently wiped away your tears, his fingers delicately holding your chin to meet his gaze. "You know, even if it's not the conventional way to confess one's love to another, I might be able to let myself do it." He said, leaning in to press his lips against yours. They were soft, just as you expected, carrying the comforting scent of wood he had kept upon his arrival—a reminder of home, a home with both you and Treech.

"I love you to the bottom of my heart. I know our first meetings weren't the best, but the way you cared for Lamina, and even showed care to me, proved something deeper. If we can continue doing that every night until the Games, I'll make sure you genuinely know that I love you." He confessed once the kiss broke. His words carried a weight that nearly brought tears to your eyes, holding you in place. The both of you chuckled at the irony of the situation, yet a newfound sense of confidence enveloped you—something you had never experienced before, especially as someone from a District.

"Man, I wish we could continue this, but I don't want you to get punished for bringing me here—" This time, you swiftly cut him off, recognizing that it wasn't the right time for such activities, especially just a few days before the Games. Instead, you proposed a deal—a deal he seemed to enjoy a little too much. Every time you had the chance to train with him, just before returning him to the Zoo, you would indulge in cuddling and sometimes reminisce about home. Occasionally, these encounters escalated into intense make-out sessions, leaving him with a desire to mark you visibly. The marks led to teasing from some classmates, making you blush, and occasional interventions from your brother. Despite casual warnings, Treech took pleasure in denying everything with a smirk that your brother despised. To add to his delight, that same night, Treech deepened the marks, leaving a lasting impression. Just to see Snow’s furious face once again.

Although this little pleasure was only going to last very soon, when the Games were officially commencing and you knew that. With you being at least able to say your final goodbyes to Treech, he could to feel your worrying about his situation. Cupping your face so delicately as a mention that everything was going to be alright. It was the last time that you also felt his lips brushing against yours. A kiss you would not forget so easily.

During the Games, you and the remaining mentors, alongside your brother, watched with stress and concern for the well-being of your tributes. While your eyes remained fixed on Treech, you also tried your best to ensure Lamina's safety. However, the situation took a dire turn when the poison finally affected Treech. Feeling helpless, you did everything in your power to find a remedy, attempting to prevent the symptoms from worsening and to make them last until only one tribute remained. "The poison!" You angrily tried to draw attention, tears welling up as you called out to your brother, who paid no heed. Seeing you suffer for the one you loved was what he had envisioned from the start. His pleasure lay in witnessing Treech's suffering on screen. "Please! Give him the medication!" You appealed to your District 7's female mentor, but it was too late. Treech's coughing worsened, and your eyes remained fixed on the screen. "Treech..." was all you could say.

Treech sensed that you were watching him, but whether it was with shame or grief, he couldn't discern. What he was certain of was seeing the expression on your face—a face that conveyed concern and a desperate desire to help. He knew that if the poison were to affect him, you would swiftly send the medication. However, it didn't happen, and he realized it was too late. Lucy had managed to escape, unlike him, who became the prisoner of an inevitable and senseless death. As he noticed the cameras focused on him, he understood that by now, you would be looking at him. "Y/N..." he began to cough in the middle of his sentence, capturing the attention of everyone in the room, including your brother. "I loved you since we met. Please, once I am gone, I want you to know that I genuinely loved and will always love you."

"No!!" Your voice wavered between tears, desperately trying to advocate for the medication option repeatedly. Cursing under your breath, you fought against Pliny Harrington, who did his best to restrain you. "Y/N..." he tried to console you, sensing the profound grief from everyone's tributes, including yours. What he failed to comprehend was the deep connection between you and Treech, destined to become the Capitol's favorite lovebirds. "It's too late..." His voice turned into a plea for you to stop. It was at that moment that your entire body went numb. In Pliny’s arms, you managed to sit down, and as Snow's victory loomed over you, you realized that your confidence was about to be completely overshadowed once again. You would become Snow's source of pride and victory.

A man you had once loved would forever reside in your heart. In the heart of District 7, you were revered for your role as a caretaker for both its female and male tribute. What you were not aware of was that, unlike Snow, you became the face of purity and trust—a bond between the District and the people of the Capitol. It was a paid respect for the Capitol's most famous lovebirds.

#tboas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games #treech #treech tbosas #treech x reader #angst #one shot #fluff #treech imagines #treech x you #reaper ash #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus imagines #treech fanfiction #hunger games x reader #hunger games x you #request open #imagine request

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