Reminiscence.

Gift Wrapped 💌

Yuuta Okkotsu x Reader

cw: smut. porn with a little plot. oral, fingering (f!receiving) multiple orgasms. praise. overstimulation. breeding. unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it). minor mention of womb fucking. say it with me: college au! minors do not interact.

wc: 4.k

“We need a distraction.”

You furrow at your two friends posted a little beyond the doors to the library. “Huh? Why me?”

Maki exchanges a quick glance with Inumaki who mutters a little under his breath, sighing when he shrugs his shoulders like it’s up to her to explain your importance in this situation.

“Because you’re his favorite,” And the way you tilt your head a little makes her exhale. “Seriously. If it was anyone else he’d see right through it.”

That makes you throw your head back a bit. “I’m his favorite?”

“Salmon.”

“Wha-“ Even so, you frown. Fabric stretching a little in your sundress as you distribute some of your weight on your hip. “But I’m the one who planned the party? I still have an order of decorations to pick up before noon.”

“We’ll pick those up on the way back,” She cuts you off before you can add. “And the cake. We’re obviously not gonna forget that.”

“What about the invitations? You know who’s all coming, right? Will you make sure they know it’s a surprise?”

Maki scoffs. “Again, obviously.”

Rough fingers are already reaching for the soft side of your cheek when you blow out a distrustful sigh. “Hey, don’t start acting like you planned this all yourself! You’re not the one who’s been bending over backwards just to make sure Panda and Sensei keep their mouths shut about this whole thing.”

“Tuna mayo.” Inumaki adds.

You relent with another short breath through your nose as you lightly swat your friend’s hand away. “Okay, okay! What am I supposed to do to distract him then?”

“I don’t know? Do what you usually do.”

“Which is?”

Maki shrugs like she’s not about to say the most insulting thing in the world. “You know, walk in there like a complete ditz, kiss his ass a little. Maybe pop a few of those buttons in your dress,“

“Okay,” You interject. “So this is you asking me for a favor-“

“Just,” Maki exasperatedly points her head forward as she reaches to turn you for the empty study room at the far side of the library. Pushing you across even as you quietly complain against her efforts. “Walk in there and be yourself. Make sure he doesn’t come back to his dorm before we send you the signal.”

“But-“

You’re helpless as they quickly retreat in the direction they came, quietly waving you off as she leaves you there with a final glance over her shoulder. “Good luck! Don’t screw it up!”

You huff.

It takes him a distracted few seconds to respond when you finally knock at his reserved door. Quietly psyching yourself up when Yuuta calls out a busied ‘come in’ before silently making your way inside.

As expected his station is a complete mess of open scrolls and scattered books when you walk in. Papers strewn across the long table leading to the sitting ledge near the windows, and him of course comfied on a small floor seat at the corner of the room; nose deep in a book even as the door clicks behind you.

It takes the small hum you make at the mess to realize it’s you who just walked in.

Yuuta’s unabashed at the way he quickly lifts his head. “____? Hi! What’re you doing here?”

You smile as you carefully step over a few opened notebooks to hook your purse on an empty chair. “Spending time with the birthday boy, I hoped?”

“Oh? Yeah, I’d,” He raises from his seat to (albeit clumsily) approach you. “Love that! Sorry about the mess, I was just getting in a little bit of studying before you came,”

He’s familiar as he opens his arms for you. “C’mere, c’mere.”

His day shirt hisses firmly against the thin cotton of your sundress when you meet him in a snug embrace; mindful of your arms as they sit on his shoulders and his hold tightens. So much that the squeeze nearly compels you to groan like an old squeaky toy, but he lets up when you whine a little.

Yuuta’s hands are still loosely lazed on your lower back when you click your tongue at him. “Studying on not only the weekend but your birthday? It’s like you like being a dweeb.”

“Oh, I love it,” He quips back. “If only to have you to come and bully me every now and then.”

You smile at him as you finally pull yourself away. Turning on your heel at his fond grin to push aside the papers still splayed on the table behind you, and clearing room for yourself to sit as you raise yourself up by your arms.

Yuuta’s eyes follow the way your legs cross before you speak. “Wanna tell me about it? I’m sure we could go over a few things together.”

His eyes light up a little at the suggestion. If not to stall for time then just to see him nerd out on whatever he’s been so focused on all morning. Yuuta’s always been pretty transparent about his eagerness to know everything there is to about jujitsu and cursed techniques, especially when you’re around to soak up all his ramblings with complete earnest. - You’re not as thorough as Yuuta, not by a long shot; but he’s always been helpful with your technique in consideration. If you’re being honest he might be the reason you’re as skilled as you are currently.

He’s attentive. Even more attentive and honest in his enthusiasm as he pulls out a seat for himself in front of you. Positioning himself until he’s just an arms reach in front of your legs and reaching for a book just on the side of you.

“Okay, well uh for starters I’ve been reading up a lot on Death Paintings and their relationship with basic genetics. Like,” He flips a few pages before craning his neck to look up at you. “Cursed spirits are more likely to adapt to the appearance of their vessel per resistance but Death paintings,”

The way you tilt your head has him keeping the extended eye contact, even as his ears turn florid. “Are technically in themselves a vessel, so any changes to the host are arbitrary. It also means that they’re kind of dead but kind of alive? It’s a - I don’t know, a Danny phantom kind of deal.”

“That’s definitely a way to simplify it.” You snicker.

“Say a Death painting uses something like Convergence or Crimson binding, dying from blood loss would be a non-factor ‘cause they’re - well they’re dead. But if you do actually wind up killing one, even without a cursed tool, they’ll be gone forever. No cursed energy left behind or anything.”

You lift your leg somewhat to graze the top of the hard cover with the front of your shoe. “You make it sound easy?”

“Oh, for me it is.”

He chuckles when you playfully kick him, even if he has to ignore his reflexes to let you get the opportunity. Watching your lips dip into a marred pout as the force of your leg swinging at him knocks his book out of his lap and your heel tumbling down with it.

Yuuta’s lackadaisical as he reaches on his side for your fallen shoe, adjusting himself in his chair as he turns it over in his hand. “Speaking of, these have gotta be sharp enough to kill somebody with. I don’t usually see you wear these unless there’s an occasion?”

You lift an eyebrow at him as tepid fingers curl around your ankle. “Can’t I dress up a little for the birthday boy?”

His grin is sweetened by a blush.

He’s careful as he guides your leg in his direction, gentle as he slides the heel onto your pointed foot. Even with calloused fingers does he handle your leg like it’s fine tulle, and you can’t help but want to shudder at the way he appraises you with so much earnesty.

“You look very pretty today,” Yuuta hums before catching himself awkwardly. “I-I mean, you look pretty everyday but today especially.”

“Yeah? Well, thank you, Yuuta-kun.” And your smile’s flustered. Pretty and coy as you turn your head and slide your leg out of his lingering grip.

His eyes are already in place of yours when you turn to him again. “You look nice too by the way? You don’t have anywhere to be any time soon, do you?”

“Oh,” Yuuta tucks his chin in a little to glance down at his button up. “No but, I ran into Panda before I got here and he told me to put on something nice!”

He absently starts the motion of folding his sleeves back. “Whatever that’s about…”

“Yeah…” You chuckle a little airily.

You’ll kill him.

There’s a distant vibrating sound coming from your purse that you reach for as Yuuta dips his hands again to rub them restlessly against his pant legs. Light patters against the carpet floor when he starts to bounce his knee and you split your attention between that and the phone in your hand.

“But uh, I mean,” Yuuta noncommittally throws his hand up in the air. “I can’t imagine that Panda’s planning on taking me out anywhere in public, seeing as - you know,”

You give him a nodding glance as you open your phone.

“Yeah so, maybe after that you and I could… I don’t know, celebrate together?”

Party Planning Committee: jesus what did you order him

Party Planning Committee: cakes been delayed for another hr xoxo

“Aw, fuck you.”

“Huh?”

Oh. Oops. You messily catch yourself when you finally register what he’s just said. And what you just accidentally responded with. Your phone is practically thrown aside as you clumsily readjust yourself in front of him, simpering apologetically when he furrows. “Oh! No, no, not you! I was just-…”

His eyes follow your awkward movements as you lift one of the fallen straps of your dress. “I’d- Yeah, of course! I’d love that, Yuuta. What did you have in mind?”

Yuuta makes a short glance at your phone before continuing somewhat hesitantly. “I was thinking we could drive to Osaka and maybe walk through Shinsaibashi? Maybe even view the Umeda Sky Building while we’re there.”

You gape a little. As fun as that sounds. And it sounds really fun, come to think of it. A trip like that would have to be a day trip. Just the drive there could take a few hours and if he’s really in the mood to sightsee there’s no chance the two of you would be back before the night is over.

He’s talking about getting a hotel with you. The thought makes your face hot. “W-What about Panda? Shouldn’t we stay to at least see what he wants first?”

“Hm? Oh yeah sure,” Though the relieved breath you quietly let out may have been a second too soon. “His dorm’s right next to mine so I’ll stop there before I grab my things.”

“You’ll-? Oh! You don’t… have to do that,”

Yuuta gives you a puzzled look as he reaches on his side to pick up his fallen book from earlier. “Hm? Why not?”

Your hand cranes to follow his movements as he stands up from his chair. Try as you might to not seem as frantic as you are, you reach for his arm when he starts for his things on the other side of the room. “You don’t wanna seem rude? What if he’s-… n-not ready to give it to you yet?”

Yuuta stares at you a short deliberative beat.

You try to hide your nerves as he slowly inches himself closer to you. Practice in his step as he plants himself before your uncrossed legs and cranes his neck until he’s leveled with your height - until his nose is practically skimming over yours. But his eyes are vigilant as they scrub you over, and you can’t help but the fearful pout you give him when he hums shortly.

“‘You hiding something from me?”

“No.”

His pupils dilate. “Feels like you are.”

“M’not.”

“You’re not?”

“Nu-uh.”

His breath is minty and sweet. You smell it about as well as he does your flavored lip gloss, shining in the room light as your pout deepens at the way he tuts. “Lying to the birthday boy’s a pretty serious offense, y’know?”

His lips twitch up when you start to shy away. “…Only punishable by death.”

“Yuuta…” You’re already reaching to push him back when his fingers start to inch for you. “Yuuta, think about this…!”

“What’re you hiding, ____?”

“I’m not hiding any-“

You don’t even get the chance to scurry away before his fingers are pressing determined little buttons into your vulnerable torso. Blunt fingernails forcing out broken little chirps at your poor attempts to stop him from prodding at your ticklish sides, but he overpowers you without even trying. Even as you push away he shoots down your efforts to escape by pushing forward enough to nearly lay himself over you, practically covering you like a veil when your legs spread in the midst of your squirming. He’s relentless as he squeezes himself between your thighs to keep up his assault. Smiling even as tears start to well in your eyes.

Yuuta’s giggling blends in with your body racking laughs as you try fruitlessly to swat at him from where you’re all but trapped beneath him, smiling so bright that it lights up his entire face. “C’mon. Tell me! Tell me!”

“N-no! Yuuta! St- stop!”

“What’s the big secret? I wanna know!”

Your only warning comes in a choked whine when you decide to pull out your only trump card. All but backed into a wall at your last ditch attempt to get him to stop tickling you, as ashamed as you should be for deciding to play dirty.

But you’re not as you cross your bare legs over his back, forcibly pressing him against you as the surprise knocks his stomach into yours.

He’s immediately flustered. You snort at him between breaths as he props himself up on his arms.

“O-Oh,” Yuuta’s cheeks turn rosy at the way you pant underneath him. “Oh, that’s dirty!”

Your wearied smile is enough to make him sweat. “You started it-“

You both turn your heads when your phone vibrates.

Party Planning Committee: sensei said he put up the decorations

Party Planning Committee: how much u wanna bet he went through his stuff

“Wha-“

You kiss him.

Mostly in another last ditch effort to keep the secret under wraps but even so, Yuuta doesn’t even hesitate to return the kiss in full ardency. Already tilting his head to deepen the kiss before you’re wrapping your arms around his shoulders to press him more firmly against you. He’s shameless as he groans into your lips when your fingers start pushing cardful lines into the back of his head.

The way you suck on his bottom lip as he pulls away makes his brain feel syrupy, it’s not even a moment later that he’s dipping his head into the crook of your neck to press his lips where it counts.

“Y-…Yuuta…”

He’s pressing crescents in your thighs when he raises his head to look at you more directly. “Want me to stop?”

You shake your head.

His lips are molten as they press hot tracks down your neck and shoulders, scalding down the path it takes to your covered breasts. You’re not sure of its eagerness or how wholly receptive he is to each twitch and whimper you make - but whichever it is it’s driving you nuts. He’s touching you everywhere. Savoring each dip and soft spot he comes across with his curious fingers, up the thin fabric riding over your thighs, your calves as they skirt up and down his sides. Even your hands find themselves in his again, entwined with his fingers as he unlatches your grip on his hair and brings it to his lips.

Yuuta’s eyes are locked on yours through the soft kiss he presses on your wrist. “You’re soft all over. I’m not even surprised,”

Deep marble blues are suffocated by dilated blacks, hungrier as he scrubs down the tousled state of your dress. All pretty and perfect underneath him.

He skims the hand on your knee down to the fat of your inner thigh. “‘You wanna be my birthday gift?”

In favor of outright whining when he asks, you fervently nod your head.

Yuuta’s thorough in the path he takes from your sternum to your open legs. Attentive in the stops he takes to suck in scattered bruises. The draft in the room cools over the dip in your dress, tugged over the cooling spit drying over your nipples. By the time he’s started peppering his lips down your thighs, you’re already teetering over overstimulated. But he isn’t in a hurry when you start to whine, still drawing patterns over your exposed stomach to press a savory kiss over the fabric of your panties.

“Don’t tell me you came in here this wet?” The vibration of his voice inclines you to twitch. “‘You’ve been holding out on me this whole time?”

“Y-Yuu-“

His tongue is as thorough as he is.

As eager. With barely the wherewithal to tug your panties down one of your legs before nuzzling his nose back into your clit again. Shamelessly eating you out like he’s been dying to much longer than he can even remember. You’re as sweet as he’s imagined, sugary as honeydew. Cassonade coated whimpers clip into the air as he moans into you, even bolder at the way he reaches up to roughly grope at one of your breasts to put you in a different angle, and the stretch of him pushing a finger inside has you both groaning.

He could just be doing this all day and he’d be happy. Feel you shiver under him like you do in his daydreams and call out for him so prettily. “Yuuta…! Yuuta! Please, I’m..,”

You nearly cum when he spits on your already messy pussy. “G’nna cum?” Yuuta grunts as his tongue joins his fingers, eyes rolling back at the squeeze and contemplating on if this is enough for such a tight fit.

So he gathers his spit and pushes it inside for good measure.

“Ah… Yuu..” Your eyes cross as his tongue flattens on your clit again, fingers rocking you in a sticky rhythm. “I’m… gonna make a mess..!”

“Yeah? My pretty gift ‘s gonna mess for me? Give me a treat for treating her pussy so well?” His tongue sloshes against your clit as your back arches. “Go ‘head, baby. Don't hold back.”

“O-Oh, fuck!”

Your moans reverberate through the walls of the enclosed study room when you cum, nearly full out sobbing as you hump against his face and coat him in your slick as you do. But he doesn’t stop, focused on working you through and catching as much as he can in his mouth, hips grinding into the edge of the table as he fights the urge to cum in his pants.

You’re overstimulated when Yuuta finally pulls away with a lewd slurp, still rocking you into his fingers. “Good job,”

The way he parts you with his wet fingers is as embarrassing as it is toe curling. “Your clit’s gotten all cute and swollen…”

Yuuta finally stands to his full height to appraise you fully as his wet fingers dip into his mouth, slick stained on his white collar and cheeks fully flushed with lust. His gaze still sweetens though, as it usually does when he’s got his attentions set on his favorite girl. Splayed out for him like a painting as the residual taste of your cum sweetens over his tongue and there are all but hearts floating over his head.

“Wanna keep going at it?” He starts on the belt of his pants. “Promise I’ll fuck you real good if you let me.”

You can hardly make the effort to give him a verbal response, almost certain that whatever you’re gonna say is more likely to come out either slurred or incoherent. So in place of a response you reach for him, grazing your nose against his as you pull him against you; and his smile is elated as he pulls himself out of his pants.

You both gasp when the mushroom top pops in, clenching his teeth through your airy whines as he starts to push himself in and Yuuta seriously questions if he’s gonna last long with you feeling as good as you do.

There’s not enough room in you for him to still be pushing in like he is. “Yuuta, ‘s’too much…!”

“Fuck!” He grunts. “Fuck you’re so tight.”

You can barely think when he starts his pace.

He’s relentless as he thrusts into you, rough and firm as he presses his hands into the back of your thighs and pushes them up to your chest, momentarily slowing down to pull out just to the underside of his tip and roll back in with a dirty push of his hips. You’re feeling him in your stomach by now, pressed against your womb when he leans in and starts to put some of his weight on you - and you honestly don't know how you’ll look at Yuuta the same way anymore. With one of your kindest - gentlest friends being in your guts like he is, still staring at you so adoringly as he carves himself into you and tutting when your head lulls to the side.

His fingers are rough and capable as he hooks them into your jaw, keeping your gaze locked on him as his pace becomes deeper.

“So good… you feel so good, baby.. My perfect, perfect girl.” He babbles. “F-fuck..! Take it. Take it just like that - wanna fuck you so full, huh? You want that?”

“S’good! S’so good, Yuu..! Hah…ahh fuck!”

“Aw,” He laughs breathlessly, puffs of air coming out as broken moans as he lays his head into the crook of your neck and puts his weight on you completely.

Yuuta clasps one of your hands in his as he transitions into deeper strokes, reaching to rub circles into your clit with the other hand.

“My ____’s gotten all stupid already. Too focused on getting fucked to think for herself anymore.” He coos as he kisses the tears running down your cheeks.

“S’okay baby. I can do all the thinking.” His moan breaks off into a shuttered breath. “Jus…keep milking me like that. Ohh my god… s-so… fucking good. Mh..”

Your eyes roll back as you tense. “Yuuta! Yuuta…!”

“Go ‘head…hahh…” He’s really gotta hold himself back at this point. “Soak my cock with your cum, baby. Go on.”

You’re half crying when you cum for the second time, squeezing around Yuuta with such a vigor that his hips pull back with a notable resistance and he almost blacks out. Fucking into you as deep as he can as he finally starts to loose his composure.

“Fffuck! Fuck! Oh god…! So good f’me, baby! So good - m’cumming. M’cumming…!” He says as hot ropes of it start to gum up your insides. “F-..fuck you’re still…milking me.”

You whimper as his hips start to grind deep currents into yours, still slowly rocking you as he whines into your neck and keeps his pace on your clit.

“Ahh…Yuu…You’re..” Your breath hitches. “Fuck Yuuta, you’re gonna make me…cum again…!”

But he doesn’t budge when you weakly start to push at him, still quietly panting into your ear. “One more. Jus…one more, baby…”

“Yuu…Yuu…!” You clutch onto his shoulders as when you start to lock up again. “Oh god…ah..fuck!”

“There she is..” And he’s already running your insides hot again as he cums from the overstimulation. “Good girl…So…ahh…proud of you, baby.”

There’s a shared exhale as you both go limp.

Buzzt!

Party Planning Committee: ok ready when you are!

reblog for an early birthday gift 🎁

DOTTORE HCS THAT ARENT HORNY?? BUT FLUFFY??? this is so cute oml

hiii, if your requests are still open, can i request headcannons of dottore and reader in the sumeru academia (romantic)? Have a nice day 💕

♡ 𝐃𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐞’𝐬 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐮 𝐀𝐤𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐲𝐚 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 ♡

synopsis: The prestigious Sumeru Akademiya was filled with interesting and unique characters. But none of them came close to the man shrouded in rumors and loneliness, Dottore.

includes: dottore w/ gn! reader

notes: Of course I can! This was very fun to write, as I love this idea so much. I hope you enjoy this!

Even though you had grown up in Sumeru amongst the greatest scholars and had access to knowledge, you never wanted to become a scholar and go to the Akademiya. You had seen people suffer for years over their research and take half of their lives to graduate. In no way did you want a strict and consuming life like that. You were quite content with being an adventurer for the Guild, as you were very strong and could hold your own easily. That was until you found out your parents had signed you up for the Akademiya without your knowledge, and all your items were moved to a dorm room there. You were highly upset and wanted to leave immediately, but something stopped you. Maybe it was because you were already here, and it’d be a pain to go back and face your parents immediately. And maybe some of those smart scholars could help you with some fighting techniques. So you decided to stay to test the waters, just to see what the Akademiya life was like.

You still didn’t try that hard though, and instead struck deals with other scholars. You found out that many of them weren’t very strong. They couldn’t test their devices, or go to old ruins or dangerous places for their research by themselves without paying a large fee to hire someone. So instead, you would do anything fighting-related for them, and they would help you with the work in return. It was really good actually, whenever you were partnered for some group project with some random person, you’d do all the fighting while they did the academics. This resulted in good results from their research, so the professors at least briefly knew of your existence out of the mass amount of students. It helped that you were patient and kind, so many people grew to like you. This is why many people ran to warn you about the man named Dottore you happened to be partnered with this time.

Apparently, he was a teal-haired man with red eyes who always donned a mask, so no one knew what his real face looked like. Rumors about his dubious experiments and malpractice always floated about but there was never any concrete evidence to convict him. Despite this, he was so incredibly smart that even the top professors acknowledged his intelligence. He rarely left his room, but when he did, the hundreds of students in the hallways would scamper to the side, leaving a clear-cut path for him to walk. No one would dare talk to him, and some were even scared to step close to his dorm room after Dottore’s only roommate left, saying they’d rather live on the streets than with that “madman.” While many people begged you to ask the professor for a change of partners, you were intrigued by this so-called freak and monster. Maybe since you’ve already seen all kinds of monsters in the wild so you weren’t that scared, but you wanted to meet this Dottore.

You walked down the hallway in which Dottore’s room was. It was a normal hallway, with normal rooms, and Dottore’s room all the way at the end of the hall was no different. It was a bit funny to know how people were scared to do such a mundane thing. And so, you raised your hand to knock but before you could, the door opened a crack and a distinct red eye peered at you. How’d he know you were there? You faltered a second but composed yourself, ready to make your introduction, but he sharply interrupted you.

“I already know who you are, and why you’re here. No need to waste time,” Dottore said dryly, noticing as you blinked awkwardly at his less than pleasant attitude. He didn’t say anything else as he eased the door open some more, letting you come in.

It was darker than normal because much of the curtains had been pulled shut. You gazed at your surroundings. His room was more of a workshop and lab than a living space. Different kinds of tools scattered about, clipboards and papers, oh, and he even had Ruin Guard parts?! Wait, was that a syringe? 

Dottore eyed you carefully, arms crossed. He was already secretly surprised at your boldness, as no one besides him had stepped foot in here in ages. In truth, he hoped to drive you off with his usual rudeness and questionable room, so you’d go and ask the professor to let you have another partner, so then he could work alone in peace. Oh, how wrong he was.

“Wow! Your room is so cool!”

A moment passed in silence as Dottore had to make sure he didn’t hear things. “What…?”

“I’ve never seen any other student’s room look like this!” You bounced over to a random desk and squinted at some papers. “And I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone research this kinda stuff before,” you hummed, trying to hold it up to the light to read.

It took Dottore another moment to process what you said, but he quickly grabbed the notes from your hand. “These aren’t for your eyes, idiot,” he scowled, for once not sure what to say because no one had ever said that to him. He became even more confused when all you did was laugh.

This was Dottore? You were prepared for a lot worse from the rumors, but definitely not this. And furthermore, he was quite attractive even though he had a smart mouth. You shook your head, feeling as though this would be quite interesting.

“Hey, why don’t we start that project already? I promise I’ll be of good help to you.” Thus began your days as Dottore’s assistant in Sumeru Akademiya.

Dottore was still internally shocked that you willingly volunteered yourself as his partner. Initially was super suspicious of you - you had to be lying, or playing a prank, or planning to leak all his work to outsiders. Barely said a word and brushed you off at first, but found it harder to keep up the act when you continued to be sweet and patient with him. Eventually gave up when you kept barging into his dorm for his company and beating the shit out of his tormentors in front of him.

After the two of you finished the first group project, his chest twinged a bit, a feeling he only felt long ago, when he was chased out of his town with pitchforks and his first few months of being shunned at the Akademiya. He questioned why. Oh - it was because now that the project was over, you’d never talk to him again. But this thought only flitted in his mind, as he refused to think about it any longer, quickly resuming his research. Oh, how he would be wrong again. A few days later, there was a familiar banging on his door, and he unconsciously moved quicker than usual to open it.

“Oh hey Dotty! Move over, I gotta move my stuff into your room?”

“What?” This conversation was starting to feel too similar to the first one he had with you.

“I’m your new roommate starting today, of course! Haha!” You laughed merrily as you handed him the transfer papers. He was too shocked to berate you.

“Hey, is your bed the top bunk bed or the bottom one? I can’t tell because all your science stuff is on both.”

You and your unusualness were going to be the death of him.

After Dottore warms up to you, it is impossible for him to let go. You will forever be with him. Unfortunately pre-relationship, he comes off like an asshole despite him trying his best since he actually likes you. When he tries to convey how he’s glad you’re his roommate now, he probably ends up saying something dumb and insulting, and then cringes in private later at his horrid social skills. Please tell him your feelings first, he keeps screwing it up and you’re probably tired of that. When you confess, he acts so confident but is questioning himself and you so badly - how can you really love someone like him? Buries these conflicting thoughts and is genuinely eager to finally someone who cares. He was one who has no one else in this world besides himself, but he now you too. 

Room dates!! This man doesn’t like leaving his room due to all the stares he gets, and he doesn’t like when you’re not with him, so a lot of dates are in the comfort of his room. Well, you’re the one who made it comfortable, after organizing all his messes and buying new decorations and soft blankets for cuddling. I don’t know how the Akademiya is structured, but imagine you and Dottore lying against each, looking out from your high-floor dorm room window out at the city at night <3. (Dottore is in no way a sap for this kind of stuff, but it makes you happy, so he can deal with it.) Dates where you help him tinker with stuff. The two of you buy something, dismantle it, and then rebuild it for fun. Dates where he rambles on for hours about his new theories and future experiments, and the plans that he will fulfill. I don’t know if you can consider experimenting in his room a date, but yeah. Also, you spoon feeding him food because if you don’t he’ll forget to eat.

Dates where he takes you to different locations and makes you fight enemies that he wants the material and drops of. You make him hide behind rocks so he doesn’t get hurt, but he secretly takes notes of all your fascinating moves. Would give you advice after on how to save the most stamina and energy, which moves would give you the most power. Honestly, he could make you a lot stronger with just his observations and words. Dates where he takes you to ancient domains and ruins. Dottore takes notes of all the ancient scribbles and puzzles for his research while you fight for both of your lives. Since he’s a student he still has more free time, he just chooses to spend it on research. Dates where you forcibly drag him out for picnics at night so no one can bother the two of you or stare. Tells you about how all the stars in the sky are lies, apparently. Thinks reciting complicated formulas and scientific facts is romantic.

Dottore carries you easily in the Akademiya. He could do two different reports on the same topic and make them completely different. If you ask him to do so, he’ll moan and groan but ultimately get it done quickly because he’s a genius, and also he loves you too much and would kill a man if you really wanted him to. You don’t need any other partner besides him, Dottore insists. No one can explain the concepts better than him, and no one would take hours to explain them to you either. But he is a bit competitive so if you happen to do better on a test or assignment, Dottore would get all pouty. He likes being the smarter one in the relationship. (You have to convince him that he definitely is and that you got this far with his help.) Also, you taking off his mask so you can kiss his face. This takes so much trust, and it probably happens first in the pitch darkness where you still can’t see his face yet.

Times where the two of you make fun of the people who bullied you. Dottore can be real nasty especially when people are mean to you. You have to calm him down. Study dates happen quite often as well. But you have trouble focusing on all of those hard things so you try to distract and bother Dottore by wrapping your arms around him and snuggling into his neck. He gets all grouchy but gives into cuddles after some persistence. Even though you still didn’t have much desire to graduate from the Akademiya, you vowed to remain Dottore’s loyal assistant for however long. You hoped these days would continue forever, but all you knew was that no matter where Dottore went, you’d follow after, much to his pleasure. Neither of you would have it any other way <3.

taglist: @heyhazelnut101, @peepopeepopeperoni

There is no slut shaming in this house, only slut encouragement

After finishing song of achilles within 2 days.. I can say I don't feel sad..

I feel empty.

Instead of the ache within that we feel after reading some good angst, I feel as though a part of my soul just died.

I don't feel sad at the tragedy..

but the tears that threaten to escape say otherwise.

refseek.com

www.worldcat.org/

link.springer.com

http://bioline.org.br/

repec.org

science.gov

pdfdrive.com

this had so much word flavor oml 🫶🫶🫶

soulmate trope | todoroki s.

Todoroki’s route of soulmate trope.

Wow, you sure seem to be injuring yourself more than usual. That can’t be related to anything significant.

warnings: extremely mild self-harm. secondhand embarrassment.

~11k words

Keep reading

the symbolism and analogies and freaking foreshadowings this had me GASPING left right up down front back and centre

Moon Starves Sun (FULL VERSION)

Dark!Gojo Satoru x reader

Word Count: 5.8k

Part one: Sun Eats Moon

Part two: Earth Kills Moon

(Warnings: forced relationship, implied nsfw content, implied noncon/dubcon, dark content, implied baby trapping)

When Satoru's close like this, he can hear your heartbeat. 

It's been a while. Ten years. An entire decade. Everything about this is different, yet so familiar. He feels like he's finally reached the shores, feeling the warm sands underneath his feet. Like he's been given his favorite food after being starved for years. Everything melts. Everything except for you. 

He'd like to stay like this forever, listening to your rabbit heartbeat, feeling your soft skin, but for your sake, he pulls himself off you. Lying on a wooden desk probably isn't that comfortable. 

Your eyes are shut. Your breathing is shallow. You're so pretty like this under the moonlight. Your clothes are barely hanging onto your body. He can see every mark he's left on you. Part of him wants to make more, but he'll let you off the hook for now. He's nice like that. 

"Still with me?" 

Your eyes flutter open. You don't respond, but at least you're not crying anymore. He can work with that. 

"C'mon, pretty girl," he says, voice soft, "let's piece you back together." 

The belt left lines on your wrists. He'll kiss them better later. For now, Satoru collects your clothes and heels from the floor, placing them on the desk. He helps you reclasp your bra, runs his fingers on your arms when you finish buttoning your blouse. It's a quiet affair. Every so often, he'd catch your eyes. You don't let yourself linger for long. Satoru finds that a little cute. 

You say nothing when he wraps an arm around your waist, guiding you out of his office. Maybe you're still dazed, still gathering yourself back up, because you don't struggle as much as he predicted. You try to leave his grip when the two of you reach the lobby. He's quick to stop you. 

"Where, do you think you're goin'?" He grips your wrist when you take a step away. 

You look at him, eyes shimmering like water. 

You swallow. "My apartment. I—I need to go back—" 

He clicks his tongue, bringing you back in. 

"We can get your stuff later." He tells you with a grin. "let's just go home, tonight. I'm exhausted." 

You open your mouth. Satoru waits. You say nothing, and he thinks you're starting to get it. 

The moon is a dusky red tonight. Satoru thinks it's an ugly color. 

☾

If Satoru could describe you in one word, it would be: predicatable. 

Normal, boring, a speck in the crowd—none of these are bad things. Just like how much of the universe is nothing, you're an empty void, too. Not everyone can be like him. From the minute he was born, Satoru was destined for greatness—a prodigy, heir to a millionaire conglomerate, the Sun itself. His life isn't written on his forehead for everyone to read. 

You are the exact opposite. Completely unassuming. He practically knows everything about you without even having to ask. 

Like how Satoru can instantly tell you've never been over to a boy's room before. 

You've probably never even been in a relationship before him, either. Even before he managed to corral you into his arms, you were always so annoying about the other things like school and friends. Though, you don't really have much of the latter anymore. His fault, Suguru never fails to remind him. 

He watches as your eyes linger over his shelf: the numerous trophies and awards. You're still standing meekly in the corner, still garbed in your school uniform, clutching your backpack. He has to roll his eyes at how obviously you're trying not to look at him. 

"What're you waitin' for?" He finally asks. You jump, eyes flitting over to find him before you find the floor. He resists the urge to roll his eyes again.

It's not like you two haven't done shit before. You sucked him off twice now, and he's finger fucked you against the bleachers. You should really stop being such a prude. 

"C'mere, pretty girl." 

You comply, dropping your bag, making your way to the bed. When you look at him from beneath your lashes, warily expectant, Satoru feels a thrill rushing through his body. 

He's always been impatient. It's in his nature to take. He nips at your mouth, eager to taste your soul from your soft lips. Soft. Everything about you is so soft—Malleable beneath his fingers. 

Satoru didn't explicitly say what his plan was, but you aren't stupid. He can tell you know what's about to happen when you stiffen in his hold, turn to stone within his grip. He would've allowed it if you hadn't gripped onto his shirt, pulling yourself away from his feasting. 

"Satoru?" You whisper, still leaning away. "The door...?" 

Annoyed, he glances over. His room is open. It shouldn't really matter. 

"It's fine." Satoru tells you. "No one's here." No one's ever here. 

You still look panicked, hands gripping his shirt. Satoru finds that adorably pathetic. How helpless you are. How that's all because of him.

He's sure to make a big show of it. Satoru gives a dramatic sigh, slumps his shoulders, but eventually pushes himself off the mattress to push at the door. He even clicks it shut. He's too nice, sometimes. 

"Happy?" You nod, you don't look very relaxed but your shoulders have dropped a bit. 

Satoru doesn't feel too guilty pushing you down, not when you're already in his bed. He isn't known for his patience. He tastes your skin, leaving marks when he can: teeth bites. He pushes you down down down down so he can sink his teeth into your flesh.

You're asleep and under the covers by the time he's done. The moon's out too. Satoru watches it, largely unimpressed. It's so tiny, a sliver of glowing white. 

And then you shift, turning ever so slightly, enough to catch his attention. He should probably kick you out and send you home. That's what he usually does. When he gets into bed with you, draping his arms around your limp body, he convinces himself it's because he's tired and waking you up would be too much of an effort. 

He lets himself enjoy your warmth; it's nothing like the cold glow of the moon. 

☾

Sometimes, even Gojo Satoru wonders if he's dreaming. 

Sometimes, life is too perfect for him to realize it is real. Everything falls perfectly in place, fitting together like those jigsaw puzzles his caretakers used to distract him with halfheartedly. 

You're in his kitchen, chopping vegetables. 

It had already been a few weeks, but he still wasn't used to this. You, being in his home, in his kitchen, in his bed. Satoru thinks he's masking it well, but his mind is still reeling, it's a difficult adjustment. 

Not a bad one. 

It's like he's been drowning for years and he can suddenly breathe when he sees your toothbrush next to his. It's like he's been stabbed and waking up to your sleeping face is the aloe. It's like he's been suffering through a blizzard, and you cooking in his kitchen, humming a song he doesn't know, is the warm sunny day. 

Things have changed since he brought you home. His home doesn't feel incomplete anymore. As though the apartment itself has agreed that this is where you belong. There are more clothes in his closet, more shoes by the door. The space is ever so slightly less empty and it fills him with tangible relief. He can cook a meal, but it's still nice coming home to something warm already made. 

It makes Satoru wonder what things could have been like, had it not been taken away from him. 

You flinch when he wraps his hands around your waist, nestling into the space in your shoulder. You hadn't heard him come in, apparently. Regardless, you don't linger, fingers hesitating before resuming your task. He finds this part of you adorable. Ignoring the thing that makes your heart race, as though he'll just fade away into the shadows. 

It's his ego that makes him slink into your warm skin, making sure you know he isn't going anywhere. 

"Smells good," he says. 

You nod, pushing away the bell peppers in favor of the onions. Unlike him, you acclimated extremely well. It'd taken nothing to lightly push you to add more and more stuff from your apartment to his. You quietly moved from one setting to another. He remembered this trait of yours from high school. Go with the flow. 

Though, perhaps, it was less out of genuine apathy. Satoru doesn't have to say what will happen to you if you refuse him. He doesn't have to throw lectures about his family and the influence he has on you. He likes that you aren't stupidly brave. He likes that you're meeker, quieter. You pick your battles. 

But he thinks he'd like to see you crack, just one more time. 

"Hey," he says, "let's go out for dinner tomorrow night. There's this restaurant just out of town that has great shrimp cutlet." 

He expects you to nod, like you always do whenever he decides to do something impulsive and meaningless. Instead, you bite your lip. 

"I can't." You mutter after a minute of silence. "I have work. Mr. Higuruma just closed a deal and—and I think I'll be coming home later and later this week." 

Home. It's enough to make his heart flutter. It's the first time you've called the apartment that. Your words almost make him forget about the second thing you said.

Higuruma. The lawyer guy with dead eyes. Satoru remembers him. He always looked at Satoru like he was a child, too stupid to do anything. He never liked how the guy looked at you. Besides, he was way too old for you, never mind that you were taken. You were always taken.

"Oh, right." Satoru gives an exaggerated sigh, fully leaning on you. "Work. What a shame." 

You nod, clearly thinking the conversation is done with. Satoru wasn't so charitable. 

"Y'know, you don't really have to work. Not anymore, pretty girl." His grip on your waist tightens ever so slightly as he pulls you towards his chest. Your hands freeze. The knife glints in your fingers. 

"I make plenty of money. You should just stay home. That way, you don't have to work shitty hours." 

You stiffen underneath his fingertips. He's disappointed when your skin turns frigid. When he peeks over your shoulder, intent to look at your face, there's a nervous smile twitching on your lips. 

"I don't think that's a good idea..." you trail off hesitantly. 

"Hm?" He tilts his head with faux confusion. "Why not?" 

The knife moves up and down, as though you can't decide whether to place it back on the cutting board. Satoru realizes it's your way of fidgeting. 

"It...it would just be unprofessional to leave when everything is so hectic." You finally decide on. 

Satoru scoffs. "So? Who cares. I'm sure everything will work itself out. Just rely on me, pretty girl." 

You don't like the answer, but you don't make a comment on it. Satoru just watches you rotate the knife in your hands. He wonders if you want to use it on him. Slice at his neck, leave him out to bleed on the pretty tile floor. Cut straight through his heart, ending it quickly. 

Or would you like to carve out his eye and keep it as a souvenir? He thinks he'd happily let you. It sounds romantic.

You don't do anything. Instead, you pull back your shoulders as if you're physically ready for war. 

"'Toru," you say gently, softly, and it works in his eyes, "I...can't let you support me like this. It's not right. It's not like we're married or anything." You laugh, like it's a joke. Satoru doesn't cave. 

"I mean, not yet." Satoru rocks you back and forth in his hold. "But gimme' some time to shop for a ring, okay? It needs to be perfect for my perfect girl." 

You follow his movements. He can see your mouth twitch out of the corner of his eye. Your eyes get glassy. 

He knows he's terrible, but he really wants you to crack. 

"You're right, Satoru." You say, "I'll put in my two weeks tomorrow." He grins in delight. 

"That's a great idea, baby." Satoru kisses you on the cheek.

Right, you pick your battles. 

☾

Satoru tells you he loves you, and you're gone, not even three days later. 

He breaks and shatters into pieces he'll never be able to put back. Each day without you is torture. He feels like a corpse, just going through the motions. His clothes feel looser. His skin doesn't feel like his own anymore. Every time he looks in the mirror, he sees someone he barely even recognizes. 

It's like you left with his heart. 

No, you ran away with his soul. 

One day, you were Satoru's, safely tucked underneath his arm...the next, you just weren't. 

His parents don't acknowledge it beyond casual disgust. Every time Suguru talks to him, Satoru can barely comprehend it. Days pass by. Everything reminds him of you. His bed feels emptier; he hates it when he reaches out to the space you used to take up and finds it cold. Your locker remains untouched. Nothing is ever the same. 

Satoru tries looking for you, but you're untraceable. No social media, no friends left to tell where you went, not even your fucking parents know where you are. 

You left him. 

You left him to rot. 

Denial comes first. It can't be. You wouldn't. You wouldn't fucking dare. Anger seeps in the next. For weeks, Satoru can only imagine what he'll do when he finds you. He'll break your legs this time. He'll squeeze your neck so hard that your head pops. He'll kill you over and over again until your corpse is begging to be forgiven. And he won't ever stop, because you're Satoru's. 

That doesn't stay for long. He feels himself get weaker day by day. Food tastes like dirt on his tongue. Any of his earlier vices are gone. 

He misses you. 

Why wouldn't he? You were his everything. 

Like all things, it passes. You aren't there to fuel the flames, so the fire wanes in his chest. The ache in his heart gets smaller and smaller. Things keep him busy. College. Then, his new position in the office. 

Ten years pass. He’s forgotten what you look like. But he remembers parts. Every so often, he sees a flicker of you within someone else. Your eyes are on another woman’s face. Your lips on a girl's smile. It irritates him to no end. It’s even worse when he starts seeking them out, keeping those parts of them for just the night. 

Sometimes, if he closes his eyes, he can still hear your voice—what he thinks is your voice—soft, needy Toru Toru Toru. 

“Gojo, sir?” 

He blinks. Ijichi stands in front of him. Satoru looks down at the meticulously crafted pages. 

“Mr. Higuruma needed you to sign this,” Ijichi lifts a paper filled with bureaucratic bullshit he pays other people to understand.

Why did Suguru take off now? 

“Sure sure,” Satoru says, “I’ll get it done.” 

Ijichi shifts nervously. “Well, it’d be best to finish it right now, Sir. His paralegal is just about to leave the building.” 

Oh, right. The lawyer’s assistant. Gojo could never get a good look at that person, but the assistant resembled a shaking deer to him at most times. He’s not even sure if they’ve ever talked to each other, but he always found the other a bit odd. Big eyes. A shaky expression. 

It was a little annoying to look at. 

☾

Some executive was throwing an office gala, and since he is Gojo Satoru, he needed to come along. 

And since you are Satoru's, you're dragged along too. 

Honestly, the only upside to this is you and that new dress he bought you. A velvet turquoise dress that he can't take his eyes off of. The gold jewelry draped across your neck makes you even more delectable. But his favorite part of the outfit is the shimmering diamond ring. 

The ceremony hadn't been anything extravagant. He'd just booked out one of his favorite restaurants, ordering lobster and sweet wine. He remembered hearing his heartbeat when he bent down on one knee, opening the elegant ringbox, like an oyster revealing its pearl. Looking back, he didn't know why he was so nervous: it's not like you'd say no. 

"What do you think of it?" He asked when you were back in his bed, bare from everything except that glistening ring. 

"It's pretty." You spoke, perfectly nestled in his chest. 

He feels in his heart when he hugs you, a small kiss in your hair. You say something, but he can't hear it; he is too preoccupied with feeling you in his arms. It's still so new, even after all these weeks. It's the anxiety, knowing at any second you could leave and he'd be nothing. He won't allow that, he can't. 

"I thought about something else, y'know?" He speaks quietly in your hair. "Ropes, chains, maybe. I could keep you here, forever. But—but then I realized how sad you'd get. I couldn't go through with it." 

You give no reaction. When he tilts your chin up to get a better look at you, your eyes are glassy. 

"You get that, right?" 

You nod. He's really too nice, sometimes. 

He spends the entire evening with you, tucked away in a corner, away from prying eyes. Just because he has to be there doesn't mean he has to be sociable. Every time someone walks up to him and you, a drink in one hand, he resists the urge to bite their head off, feigning politeness. He complains about their lack of decorum to you multiple times throughout the night, his head resting on your shoulder. You pliantly sit there, listening and nodding. 

About ten minutes after the last board member left, someone else walks up. By then, Satoru's patience has mostly declined. He peers over with disdain before he can really process who he's seeing. 

"Suguru!" He waves over. 

You stiffen, and Satoru remembers you haven't seen him in ten years. 

Suguru walks over with an easy smile on his face. He's nicely tanned, and Satoru is reminded of the pictures he sent over of the Maldives. Maybe that's where the honeymoon should be. 

"Had fun slacking?" Satoru asks with a grin; Suguru shrugs. 

When his eyes meet yours, he feigns delighted surprise. Suguru speaks your name with practiced shock. It's imperfect, only Satoru can see the amusement dripping from his fangs. 

"Long time, no see!" Effortlessly, Suguru corrals you into a hug. You follow, giving into the cold touch of affection before pulling away back to him. 

"Hello, Geto." You say when you're rightfully by his side again. "It's nice to see you again." 

Suguru laughs, light and airy. "You as well!" He looks at your hands, tilts his head. "Oh? Congratulations, you two! When's the date?" 

"Eh, we'll figure that out later." Satoru gives a quick kiss on your cheek. "Everything happened so fast, y'know? Us reuniting and everything: It feels like fate." Suguru's eyes flash. "Let's not rush this. We'll take our time." 

Suguru nods along thoughtfully. He's looking right at you, and you stare right back. Not used to feeling left out, Satoru is quick to intervene. 

The conversation is light, two long-time friends reuniting after a long spell. You stay quiet like decor, settling into Satoru's side. Suguru doesn't acknowledge you after that. 

"We gotta' go. It's getting late." He eventually says, tugging you along. 

Suguru gives a pleasant smile. "Of course, of course. We should catch up sometime." He directs this at you. You give a strained smile before Satoru leads you off. 

"Suguru." The man turns. Satoru grins. 

"I loved my gift. Thanks, man." 

Suguru's smile is catlike. 

"You kids have fun." He calls out right when Satoru's dragging you away all over again. 

You're silent. Not in the way you usually are, pliant and cute. You're thinking. He gives you a nudge. 

"What's goin' on in that pretty head of yours?" 

You shake your head. "Nothing." And then you say, "He's changed." 

From your view, Satoru supposed that's true, but really—

"Nah." Gojo shakes his head. "He's just dropped his act." 

Satoru's hand was wrapped around your waist when you two ran into him. You hadn't noticed him yet, eyes fixed on the floor. The lawyer hadn't changed since the last time Satoru saw him. That dead expression, those creepy eyes. Higuruma's eyes flit over your figure, before he finds Satoru's. 

He stares. Satoru stares right back. Something gives, and the lawyer calls out your name. 

"How are you?" His tone is cool, and this is another reason why Satoru can't stand him. The guy has no tells. He's just a talking robot. 

Unlike you, fidgeting by his side, practically vibrating with nerves. 

"I'm fine, sir." Your smile gets more painful to look at by the second. 

Your voice earns you a tired smile, a mild pinch of humor. Higuruma shakes his head, waving you off. 

"No need for formalities. We aren't at work." His smile drops just a bit, as he watches you for a bit more, eyes flickering to your hand. "I was...surprised when I saw the announcement. I didn't know you and Mr. Gojo were involved." 

Satoru grins, making himself known like a shark in the water. His grip on you tightens. 

"Oh, you didn't tell your boss 'bout us, baby?" He looks down at you with cruel mirth, pinching your cheek. You wilt. "We go way back—highschool sweethearts. Lost contact for a couple years. It's actually thanks to you we were able to find each other again. We'll send you the invites." He presses a kiss to your hairline. 

Higuruma hums at that. Satoru expected jealousy in his eyes; he's even more upset when he finds none. 

"I'll be sure to save the date." 

Then he shuts Satoru down completely. 

"I heard about your resignation. It's sad to see you go," Higuruma says. 

You nod, but you don't look at him. "Satoru and I talked about it, and we decided it's best if I focused on other things." 

"Very, very busy, this one nowadays." Satoru interrupts. "Between wedding plannin' and all that."

"Is that so?" Higuruma says dismissively, "in any case, you already knew this, but I've begun preparations to start a new firm." He reaches into his wallet, pulling out a card. "I always thought you were good at what you do. If you ever want to get back into the industry, call me." 

You take the laminate slip with a quiet thank you. Satoru feels blue turn into red. 

When Higuruma slips into the party, Satoru tightens his grip on you a little harsher than necessary. He's dragging you through the halls. Behind him, he can hear you stumbling over your heels, begging him to slow down. He knows he should care, but he doesn't. That damn lawyer. Those dead eyes. Mocking him. 

"Did you fuck him?" He asks when his anger has reached a high enough peak that he presses you against the wall. 

Your eyes are wild, flitting back and forth. He'd your expression a little cute if he wasn't feeling like a furnace, at the moment. 

"No. I—we never." You say. "Mr. Higuruma was my boss. And—and he's married—" 

"Really? 'cause you're precious 'Mr. Higuruma' was eyeing you up and down like he's already seen what's underneath." 

"'Toru." You plead. "Let's—let's just talk about this at home. Please? Let's just go home." Home. You said that word again. If he were a better man, he'd melt, but he's not. 

"Shut up." He spits out. "Hike up your dress." 

You stare at him. Then, you try to smile, like he's making a shitty joke. It wavers on your lips. 

"It's...we're still in public." You whisper and it's so cute you think he'd actually care about that. "We—we can't...we shouldn't—" 

"Baby." His voice drops, as he licks at your neck. "Pull up your dress, get rid of those panties. Otherwise, I'm just gonna take it off myself." 

He doesn't need to explain anything further. You already get what he's saying. Right now, Satoru doesn't care if you leave this building with your clothes intact. 

He thinks the worst part is that he knows he's being unreasonable. He's backing you into a corner where you'll have no choice but to surrender, and he knows that, but he keeps thinking about those man's eyes and how he looked at you and it was just all so much. 

He'll apologize to you later, with flowers and shiny gold earrings. He'd give you the world; just be good for him now. 

He just needs his fix. So just be good for him now.

☾

When Satoru discovers it's been you all along, he feels like an idiot. 

In a pathetic way of defending himself, he convinces himself there's no way he could have recognized you. You're so different compared to your high-school self. 18-years old, fresh-eyed, naive. The you now is all grown up: a mature voice, a new hairstyle, clothes he'd never even think you'd wear. 

It also didn't help that he couldn't even see your face since you turned away every time he looked at you. 

Embarrassing. He's just glad Suguru wasn't here to call his blunder. 

He thought about it a lot. He spent an hour in his office, pacing around, doing nothing but thinking and thinking and thinking. Part of him wants to corner you already. He can already feel your rabbit heartbeat on his fingertips, the look you always had in your eyes when he was right in front of you. Part of him wants to ruin your life the same way you ruined his. He wants to tear you apart, piece by piece. Leave you in tattered pieces. 

But he can't do that. Satoru still loves you. 

You left him a hollow shell. Broken. Tainted. There are pieces of him he still can't find. He should hurt you. He's hurt other people for doing less. But they weren't you. Even after all those years, he's never quite stopped loving you. 

But he wants to sate his bloodlust, just a tiny bit. 

His perfect opportunity comes where he, the lawyer, and you are all sitting in one of the waiting rooms. The lawyers explaining something, possibly about the ongoing case. Satoru doesn't really care. Besides, this is what Ijichi's here for. 

He waits until everyone is quiet. You're unassuming. By then, your shoulders have lowered, like you think you've gotten away with it 

"Hey," he says, "do we know each other?" 

The other two don't bother, but you stop completely. The pen in your grip shakes. Satoru resists the urge to laugh. 

You timidly glance up like you're still delusional enough to think there's a fifth person he's talking to. Satoru has always been told his eyes are like two suns: bright and intense. He lowers his glasses. You wilt under the solar flares. 

"Hm?" He prods, enjoying the way you shrivel. "Have we?" 

You swallow, glassy eyes flicking from side to side. Finally, you clear your throat. 

"No." You mutter, voice barely a whisper. "I don't think we have." 

"Are you sure?" To intensify the magnifying glass, he leans closer, like he's examining you. "'cause you look really familiar." 

To his delight, you chew on your bottom lip. He can imagine biting it until it's bloody and raw. He stops just when you're about to shatter completely. Breaking you too soon would take the fun out of it. 

"Oh, wait. I don't think that was you." He relents, pulling back and he can see the relief ooze over your face. "I think I got you mixed up with someone who interviewed here a couple months ago. My bad. Maybe you have one of those faces." 

You nod, eager to take the out. 

"Yes," you quickly say, "one of those faces." 

How adorable. You haven't changed since high school. 

He's usually not this obvious, but Suguru isn't here to berate him about it and it's not like anyone else will get on his ass. The women he brings in are his usuals: tall models with full lips and perfect bodies. Satoru parades them around like expensive jewelry. He wants to see you seethe in envy, stew in it. He wants you to see what you abandoned. 

But you don't do any of that. You just sit there, like the dutiful little workbee you are, right by your boss's side.

And then, you give one of them your jacket. Satoru can't stand it wrapped around her waist like she fucking owns it—own you. She wears it so flagrantly, like any token from you shouldn't be worshipped and coveted. He hates it. He hates it. 

"I've never done this in an office before." She squeals when she shuts the door behind her. "So, how do you—" 

"Get out." 

The girl pauses. What was her name again? Satou was too pissed to give a single shit. 

"Um, what?" 

"What, you deaf or something?" He waves her off as if he weren't seething. "Get out." 

"Oh," she says, blinks, and then she takes a step back. 

"Wait." Satoru stops her. 

"Take that off." He points to your jacket. She does it with zero complaints. When he tells her to drop it on the chair, she follows that too. Reluctant expectation. Kind of like you. Maybe that's why he was initially invested in her. 

He only takes the fabric after she's gone. It's soft underneath his fingertips. Nothing designer, but good quality. When you're finally underneath him again, he'll buy you better clothes, all the jackets you want. 

He needs you. He can't wait anymore. 

He needs you, whether you want him or not. 

☾

Satoru wakes up to something crashing. 

It's faint, obviously coming from the bathroom. Not the best way to be woken up. He remembers the first few nights he brought you home. He'd hear you crying in your sleep, choking on tiny sobs. It was the sweetest little thing, like a whimpering puppy. 

These noises are a little more concerning. 

He yawns, sliding out of bed. You didn't bother locking the door. You didn't even close it all the way, either. A sliver of light comes from the crack before he pushes it open. 

"Baby?" He calls. You don't answer. 

You had knocked over a caddy. Toothbrushes, hairclips, soap dispensers, perfume bottles were scattered all over the floor. You're curled up in the corner of the bathroom, huddled right next to the tub. You seem physically okay, no blood, no bruising, but he can't see your face. And you're shivering. 

Satoru's about to call out to you, when he steps on something. He looks down at the tiles. 

A positive pregnancy test. 

"I'm not keeping it." Your voice is hoarse, like you've been crying for hours. "I'm not keeping it." 

"Pretty girl." He coos, trying his best to keep the glee out of his voice and failing. "Let's not worry 'bout that, right now. C'mon, let's get you off the floor." He reaches for your hand. You smack it away. It stung. 

When you look at him, eyes bloodshot and brimming with angry tears, Satoru's heart skips a beat. He feels like he just trapped a wild animal, making it pace in a corner. Any wrong move could result in his hand getting bit off. It's scary. 

He's finally cracked you. 

"Fuck you." Your voice shakes and wobbles, but it's loud and you're clear. "Fuck you. You're a sick, twisted man-child. You ruined everything. You ruined my entire life and—and now you—" 

You're cut off by his giggling. It sounds psychotic even to his ears. He's beyond caring. You flinch when lifts your face up, forcing you to look into his eyes. He's smiling so hard it hurts. 

"Yeah, I did that. I ruined you. I ruined your entire fucking life. For me." He stresses, squeezing your face so hard you try to pull away. "But I had to. You—you wouldn't be here if I didn't." He sighs, pressing your body to his. "I need you."

You're both huddled on the bathroom floor, captive and lover. He's clutching you to his chest, smiling, nestling his face in your hair. You don't say anything for a while. 

"I'm not keeping it." You whisper. "I'm not. I wouldn't stand it if it ended up like you." 

It's spiteful. You're still in that phase where you think your venom can hurt him, as though he'd see your blows as anything but blessings. Satoru thinks to his own childhood. Where he was given everything, lathered in gold and silver. Yet, the house was always cold. But you were always so warm. 

"That won't happen." He tells you. "'cause you're here." 

Your anger has dwindled to smoke. Maybe you've finally realized how crazy he was for you. 

"Please let me go." It's not a beg. It's not even a request. 

"I can't," he honestly says. 

"You won't." You correct him. 

He smiles in your hair. 

"No baby," he says, "I can't." 

If you ran away again, if you escaped his claws, he'd probably die. Drop dead, rot on the floor. He needs you. Even more than he needs food, water, and oxygen. You won't understand that. You've never been in love before. 

You don't fight him. If anything, you sink into his hold. He's there to catch you, heart soaring. You lean into his chest 

"I hate you." You whisper. His heart beats a little faster. It's probably the first time you've ever been so honest with him. 

God, he loves you. 

"I hope our baby has your eyes," he says. 

"I hope our baby looks exactly like you." 

You say nothing, but when he leans down to kiss you, you finally kiss back. You're cracked, and your essence is ready to be molded in his image, just like he's always wanted you to be. 

If Satoru is the Sun, then you must certainly be his universe, the plane in which he rests, because there would be no existence for him if not for you. 

villain attack part 1

scammers to lovers <3 part 1 | part 2 | part 3

𝐬𝐥𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧!𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

full fics:

after all this time - six years ago, when they placed that sorting hat on your head, nobody expected for it to assign the muggleborn to the slytherin house, but it did. six years later, you find yourself as alone as the day you walked through those doors. little did you expect the prince of slytherin, the pureblood maniac himself, gojo satoru, to be the one to coincidentally fill your empty hours.

always - you try to make sense of everything after that night with gojo satori, the Slytherin prince, but as much as you try to run away from it, it seems to follow you more. but he has to hate you for it, right? that could be the only explanation for why he seeks you out...right? (part two of after all this time, 18+)

drabbles:

slytherin!gojo and where all it begins

slytherin!gojo at a slytherin party

slyhterin!gojo sees you in the muggle world

how slytherin!gojo reacts to somebody else taking you to a ball

when slytherin!gojo lies about the train being full so he could sit next to you

slytherin!gojo being petty when another guy talks to you

when you go flying with slytherin!gojo

aftermath of flying with him

slytherin!gojo tag (everything to do with him)