Pairing: Best Friend!megumi X Gn!reader

Tell the moths in my tummy to relocate, please

Synopsis: In which 40° weather grants you insight into Satoru’s powers Word Count: 2.0k

Story Content: Female reader, Fluff, Mutual Pining, Seemingly unrequited pining, Idiots in love but they don’t even know it yet, Slow-burn (doesn’t get anywhere), Crackfic, We learn the many ways in which Satoru can use his technique, Reader POV!

A/N: this is a celcius only household (kidding. but not really.) This has been in my drafts for a reaaaally long time im just glad its out honestly

GOJO SATORU is a frigid blast of cold air during a warm summer day. 

It’s surprising, considering his typical characterisation. People, yourself included, likened him to the sun. Bright and blinding. That’s how the pillar of the Jujutsu world should be, they’d say. He’s the epitome of sorcery. The honored one, they’d praise. 

Just to be clear, you thought of him as the sun for entirely different reasons. Reasons that you weren’t about to go into too detail about. But just as a tiny, small little hint: It had to do with his body temperature. And you were currently being quickly betrayed by what you once thought was fact.

“Am I a portable air-con?”

“Yeah,” you spit at him. Half in betrayal and half in fascination, you huff, gripping his elbows to keep him still as you tuck your body against him, forcing his technique over you with your own. 

The chill settles into your bones and makes you sigh sweetly. It almost makes you forget about how the sun was shining a little too brightly into your eyes. 

In the back of your mind, you can’t help but envy him and his thousand dollar shades. Did he bring a spare? Could you have them? 

Keep reading

well pee in a can and call me pie

i feel like bakugou only does fwb because mina tries to explain to his wound up ass that sometimes adults just have consensual sex for the fun of it.

like maybe it starts as an accident, or unplanned; somehow, she managed to get two mixed drinks in him — which is two drinks too many — and you're all at denki's birthday party and he's having a little more fun than he's willing to ever admit, and you're there, some friend of jirou's, and before he knows it, his face is flushed and he's staring at you a little too obviously from across the room.

you're pretty, that's all. and even though he's got this big dumb scar on his face and hands and chest and shoulders and — you're looking at him, too. making a face at him when something funny happens, eyes wide, lips curled into some amused smile; mouthing things to him, like he's wasted when denki falls and brings the curtains down with him. you're interacting but not, and did he really expect mina not to notice ???

"you should go talk to her!"

bakugou's reaction is a little slow, but just as intense; eyebrows furrowed, teeth grit, nostrils flared, as if she just suggested he kill his own grandma or something. "stay the hell outta my business."

unphased, she grabs one of his shoulders, fingernails diggiing in when he tries to shake her off. "c'mon, she's cute! and you two have been making googly eyes at each other all night!"

and — okay, he doesn't say anything to that, even though he definitely has not been making fucking googly eyes at you. it just takes him by surprise a little, that's all, that she thinks you've been making googly eyes at him. whatever that means. but the alcohol has set in enough that he's a little too transparent, a little too quick to bare his insecurities.

unthinking, he swivels his head back to stare at you, how you're smiling and chatting with some girl you came with, sticking your tongue out at him when you notice him looking, before he's swiveling to face back at mina again.

"the fuck am i supposed to say? i don't ever—" chat up strangers, he means, because — he never knows what the fuck to say. and it seems like a waste of time, usually, because he's got to reveal himself little by little and hope the other person doesn't run off crying because he hurt their feelings or something.

he's busy. hell, mina knows that better than anyone because her schedule isn't any looser than his, so it's not like he's really got time to date right now, and even if he did, he wouldn't have the time to devote to it that he probably should. it's why he's avoided it this long, and he makes a habit of steering clear of this subject with everyone, especially her, because she's always saying things like—

"you seriously need to get laid, blasty! maybe some of the pressure will release from your big head!"

and then he's attracting too much attention by trying to blast her to smithereens; something about alcohol makes him fourteen again, too quick to whip out the die!'s and sparking palms.

it also throws off his balance a little, because he doesn't really want to turn her to dust and so he's not fighting as hard and she's almost got him in a headlock when you walk up, laughing at how much they resemble clumsy, overgrown children.

as soon as mina sees you, she's up on her feet and saying, "he's totally clean, practically a virgin!" before he can actually, really, truly end her young life. and you laugh some more when his face goes beet red and he means to insist that that's not true — it is — but you sit too close beside him on the couch and it's like he's taken a large sip of one of mina's too-strong drinks all over again.

"you know," you start, crossing one leg over another so that it's brushing against his knee. "you're a lot funnier than i thought you'd be."

and bakugou has zero game sober, so he says, "...well...you dunno shit about me, so..."

"no, i guess i don't," you snort, leaning a little further into him, grin widening when his cheeks darken at your proximity. "but i'd like to learn."

no. he's not gonna tell anyone that you fucked in sparkplug's guestroom. zero. nobody. taking it to the grave, because he's really not that kind of guy. and there's already this out of control rumor about him in the media that he's some sado-masochist hard dom and he's not really trying to fuel that fire.

okay, he doesn't tell anyone except mina, because she's the one that got him into the whole thing in the first place.

"it's really not a big deal, kats." she says it to him over breakfast in her overdecorated, over-pink kitchen, smirking at him from across the bar counter where he's chugging some green drink she concocted. "people hook up with strangers all the time."

"well, i fuckin' don't." he grumbles, frowning at the heart pattern on her dinner plates. the too-large glasses she's given him to block out the sun aren't helping. more for show than anything, he thinks.

"not like i want to know all the raunchy details but," —she and bakugou share a grimace at the thought— "didn't you have at least a little bit of fun?"

okay, he did.

you're — carefree, in the sense that nothing was too serious, too awkward. this isn't something bakugou does on the regular so it maybe might have been a while, but — you were fine with that. didn't mind at all, seemed to be just as content sitting naked on top of him, tracing the ugly lines over his chest and across his shoulders and at his hip and —

he also learned his refractory period is about 12 minutes. and that yours is about 45 seconds.

yeah, he can admit that he had a decent time with you, but the problem isn't that he hooked up with some stranger.

the problem is that he kinda liked watching you through hazy eyes as you walked your fingers up his chest, fiddling with his ear and pushing his hair up off his forehead. that he kinda liked pulling your legs up around his hips because you fit together a little better than he expected. that he didn't know you would feel so good or sound so sweet underneath him.

the problem is that sex makes him vulnerable and that's the real reason he avoids it so much. the problem is that he doesn't really want to hook up with strangers.

the problem is that now he just wants you.

regrets are an excuse for people who have failed.

46 Of The Most Beautiful Sentences In YA Literature

1. “You could rattle the stars. You could do anything, if you only dared. And deep down, you know it too, and that’s what scares you the most.” —Sarah J. Maas, Throne of Glass

2. “Because sometimes chance and circumstance can seem like the most appalling injustice, but we just have to adapt. That’s all we can do.” —Gavin Extence, The Universe Versus Alex Woods

3. “I can’t seem to be a pessimist long enough to overlook the possibility of things being overwhelmingly good.” —John Corey Whaley, Where Things Come Back

4. “Books are my friends, my companions. They make me laugh and cry and find meaning in life.” ―Christopher Paolini, Eragon

5. “Because Margo knows the secret of leaving, the secret I have only just now learned; leaving feels good and pure only when you leave something important, something that mattered to you. Pulling life out by the roots. But you can’t do that until your life has grown roots.” —John Green, Paper Towns

6. “Do not pity the dead, Harry. Pity the living, and, above all those who live without love.” ―J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

7. “I’m done with those; regrets are an excuse for people who have failed.” —Ned Vizzini, It’s Kind of a Funny Story

8. “Becoming fearless isn’t the point. That’s impossible. It’s learning how to control your fear, and how to be free from it.” —Veronica Roth, Divergent

9. “The moon is a loyal companion. It never leaves. It’s always there, watching, steadfast, knowing us in our light and dark moments, changing forever just as we do. Every day it’s a different version of itself. Sometimes weak and wan, sometimes strong and full of light. The moon understands what it means to be human. Uncertain. Alone. Cratered by imperfections.” —Tahereh Mafi, Shatter Me

10. “Eleanor was right. She never looked nice. She looked like art, and art wasn’t supposed to look nice; it was supposed to make you feel something.” —Rainbow Rowell, Eleanor & Park

11. “Don’t be afraid of death; be afraid of an unlived life. You don’t have to live forever, you just have to live.” —Natalie Babbit, Tuck Everlasting

12. “Just because we’ve been … dealt a certain hand … it doesn’t mean that we can’t choose to rise above — to conquer the boundaries of a destiny that none of us wanted.” —Stephenie Meyer, Twilight

13. “Some walks you have to take alone.” —Suzanne Collins, Mockingjay

14. “That’s the thing about pain. It demands to be felt.” —John Green, The Fault in Our Stars

15. “We believe in the wrong things. That’s what frustrates me the most. Not the lack of belief, but the belief in the wrong things. You want meaning? Well, the meanings are out there. We’re just so damn good at reading them wrong.” —Rachel Cohn, Dash & Lily’s Book of Dares

16. “Why would you be given wings if you weren’t meant to fly?” —Leslye Walton, The Strange and Beautiful Sorrows of Ava Lavender

17. “Live! Live the wonderful life that is in you! Let nothing be lost upon you. Be always searching for new sensations. Be afraid of nothing.” —Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray

18. “It’s just that…I just think that some things are meant to be broken. Imperfect. Chaotic. It’s the universe’s way of providing contrast, you know? There have to be a few holes in the road. It’s how life is.” —Sarah Dessen, The Truth About Forever

19. “The universe is bigger than anything that can fit into your mind.” —Ava Dellaira, Love Letters to the Dead

20. “I try to think about how it all works. At school dances, I sit in the background, and I tap my toe, and I wonder how many couples will dance to ‘their song.’ In the hallways, I see the girls wearing the guys’ jackets, and I think about the idea of property. And I wonder if anyone is really happy. I hope they are. I really hope they are.” —Stephen Chbosky, The Perks of Being a Wallflower

21. “Things were rough all over but it was better that way. That way, you could tell the other guy was human too.” —S.E. Hinton, The Outsiders

22. “What if evil doesn’t really exist? What if evil is something dreamed up by man, and there is nothing to struggle against except our own limitations? The constant battle between our will, our desires, and our choices?” —Libba Bray, Rebel Angels

23. “It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live.” —J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone

24. “It’s like the people who believe they’ll be happy if they go and live somewhere else, but who learn it doesn’t work that way. Wherever you go, you take yourself with you. If you see what I mean.” —Neil Gaiman, The Graveyard Book

25. “I can tell you that the end of a life is the sum of the love that was lived in it, that whatever you think you have sworn, being here at the end of Jem’s life is not what is important. It was being here for every other moment.” —Cassandra Clare, Clockwork Princess

26. “Life, with its rules, its obligations, and its freedoms, is like a sonnet: You’re given the form, but you have to write the sonnet yourself.” —Madeleine L’Engle, A Wrinkle In Time

27. “Maybe who we are isn’t so much about what we do, but rather what we’re capable of when we least expect it” —Jodi Picoult, My Sister’s Keeper

28. “People never really died. They only went on to a better place, to wait a while for their loved ones to join them. And then once more they went back to the world, in the same way they had arrived the first time around.” ―V.C. Andrews, Flowers in the Attic

29. “Goodbye, I say, goodbye, as I disappear little by little into the middle of the middle of my own spectacular now.” —Tim Tharp, The Spectacular Now

30. “But if I’m it, the last of my kind, the last page of human history, like hell I’m going to let the story end this way…Because if I am the last one, then I am humanity. And if this is humanity’s last war, then I am the battlefield.” —Rick Yancey, The 5th Wave

31. “The words were on their way, and when they arrived, she would hold them in her hands like clouds, and she would ring them out like the rain.” —Markus Zusak, The Book Thief

32. “Child, no one is ever ready for anything. I would never doom you to that. What sort of adventureless life would that be?” —Alethea Kontis, Enchanted

33. “And now that you don’t have to be perfect, you can be good.” —John Steinbeck, East of Eden

34. “Maybe some people are just meant to be in the same story.” ―Jandy Nelson, I’ll Give You the Sun

35. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s this: We all want everything to be okay. We don’t even wish so much for fantastic or marvelous or outstanding. We will happily settle for okay, because most of the time, okay is enough.” —David Levithan, Every Day

36. “Doubt everything at least once. What you decide to keep, you’ll be able to be confident of. And what you decide to ditch, you will replace with what your instincts tell you is true.” ―Amy Plum, After the End

37. “Just as a river by night shines with the reflected light of the moon, so too do you shine with the light of your family, your people, and your God. So you are never far from home, never alone, wherever you go.” —Karen Cushman, Catherine Called Birdy

38. “You spend your whole life stuck in the labyrinth, thinking about how you’ll escape it one day, and how awesome it will be, and imagining that future keeps you going, but you never do it. You just use the future to escape the present.” —John Green, Looking for Alaska

39. “There’s no shame in fear, my father told me, what matters is how we face it.” —George R.R. Martin, A Clash of Kings

40. “I know that the whole point—the only point—is to find the things that matter, and hold on to them, and fight for them, and refuse to let them go.” —Lauren Oliver, Delirium

41. “We feel cold, but we don’t mind it, because we will not come to harm. And if we wrapped up against the cold, we wouldn’t feel other things, like the bright tingle of the stars, or the music of the aurora, or best of all the silky feeling of moonlight on our skin. It’s worth being cold for that.” —Philip Pullman, The Golden Compass

42. “It’s a lot easier to be lost than found. It’s the reason we’re always searching and rarely discovered—so many locks not enough keys.” ―Sarah Dessen, Lock and Key

43. “On that cold night in January it all slipped into place for me and she became my everything and my everyone. My music, my sun, my words, my logic, my confusion, my flaw.” —Julie Murphy, Side Effects May Vary

44. “Hope? Hope can be a powerful force. Maybe there’s no actual magic in it, but when you know what you hope for most and hold it like a light within you, you can make things happen, almost like magic.” —Laini Taylor, Daughter of Smoke and Bone

45. “[She] had always suffered from a vague restlessness, a longing for adventure that she told herself severely was the result of reading too many novels when she was a small child.” —Robin McKinley, The Blue Sword

46. “Youth cannot know how age thinks and feels, but old men are guilty if they forget what it was to be young.” —J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix 

𝟓:𝟒𝟕 𝐀𝐌 | 𝐌𝐈𝐘𝐀 𝐎𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐔.

you’re not too sure what time it is, but you know it’s early when osamu lays himself over you, head digging into your chest as he steals your warmth. you groan, wrapping your arms around him as you pull the blanket higher over your bodies.

“what time is it?”

“almost six,” he hums. it’s quiet for a moment, you seem to be drifting back to sleep, and osamu grins in victory against your shirt that all’s gone according to plan as he drifts off himself.

until you speak up.

“wait a second. aren’t you supposed to be on the couch?” his body freezes for a moment before he’s clutching onto you tightly while you’re trying to shove him off. “samu! get off!”

“no!”

“i’m serious, i’m still mad at you,” you huff. he frowns (though it’s more of a pout) and simply shakes his head.

“‘m not lettin’ go. ma back hurts. i’m cold too.”

“miya osamu—”

and before you can finish your sentence, there’s a soft bite at your chin that makes you stop.

“don’t call me by ma full name,” he grumbles, settling back down into your chest. “‘s rude.” he has the audacity to grab your hand and plop it into his hair too, gesturing at you to play with the dark brown strands.

“did you just bite me?”

“and what if i did?” comes his quiet mumble, voice muffled by your shirt.

last night wasn’t exactly a big fight, it was a petty one if the both of you were being honest, but osamu should’ve admitted he was wrong, and his attitude was what landed him a spot on the couch. and to his dismay, you seem to fall asleep much easier without his embrace than he does without yours.

“what do you—you bit me,” you repeat incredulously. you smack his shoulder when he snickers quietly at your shock.

“didn’t even hurt, ya drama queen.” and you want to keep your facade of being mad, you want to tell him to go back to the couch until you’ve deemed he’s earned his spot back, but something about the way he nuzzles into you and kisses your collarbone before trying to fall asleep makes you give in.

he’s stubborn, you’ve come to know this a tad bit too well, but he’s also gentle. he plants one more spoonful of dinner to your plate when you tell him to stop, he pulls the sun visor down for you when the light shines in your face as he drives, he wakes up and puts socks on your feet when they feel like icicles against his calves, and he’s the only person who easily forgives you for your own stubbornness too—every time, without fail.

so you wrap your arm tightly around him, stroking through his locks as you mumble “you’re such a weirdo, you know that?”

“well, ‘s just the way i am, deal with it,” he mumbles back. and then you giggle, he laughs, you kiss his forehead, and he kisses your jaw—and you’re back to your usual routine, last night all forgotten.

“i love you,” you whisper.

“love ya too. and i also love yer cheeks, ‘m bitin’ them next.”

still firmly believe osamu’s love language is biting

if the chara and trope thing is still open ... for a lil thing

can i maaaaaybe ask for a lil thing w atsumu and mutual pining or idiots to lovers LOL

send in a character + trope for a blurb

...

“oh my god, look at your hair!”

atsumu’s gaze follows your finger to where it eagerly points at a photo in your old school yearbook. after visiting his childhood home and finding the artifact practically shoved under his mattress, the two of you have spent the last hour giggling at all of the embarrassing old pictures from your teenage years. 

he scoffs at the humor laced in your voice, the one that’s poking fun at his messy dark brown mop from middle school. 

“oh please, that’s ‘samu,” he deflects. 

but growing up with the pair, you know better. he can’t fool you that easily. 

“no it's not,” you scold before cooing back at the little ‘tsumu in the picture, “look how cute you look.”

and at the compliment, atsumu directs his attention back to the book, turning it slightly his way to get a better look at the photo. “cute? lemme see that, oh yeah, that’s me. definitely me.”

a light slap is felt against his shoulder and god, he wants you to touch him again. you'd think he would’ve gotten over this by now—the giddy high he gets every time your skin brushes against his. but here he is, grown and successful and yet still putty in your soft, unknowing hands.  

he points to a candid photograph of you in the cafeteria.

“you always wore those stupid shoes,” he notes, eyeing the big clunky white sneakers that made you about three inches taller. he remembers liking how they made you eye level with him.

you hum, remembering how you’d practically worn the pair into the ground. “they were it back then.”

atsumu looks in the background of the photo to find his younger self sitting a few rows behind you, and while hidden by the camera’s blur, he knows he’s looking at you. he’s always looking at you, stupid shoes or not. 

“can i tell you a secret?” he almost whispers, and it’s unsettling how out of character it is for him. 

with a nervous laugh, you nod. atsumu smiles to himself before returning his attention back to the photo. 

“i had the biggest crush on you in high school.”

you snort, and while it's not the exact reaction he wanted, you’re smiling so he’ll take it. 

“yeah right,” you don't believe his confession for a second so he whines. 

“m’serious.”

and at his sincerity, your laughter fades and your eyes grow like saucers in disbelief. you’re looking at him like he has three heads, like he’s fourteen again and has that atrocious haircut back on his head.

“you’re lying,” you try to call his bluff, but his smile grows even wider. 

“imma lot of things,” he shakes his head at your amusement, “but a liar isn’t one of ‘em.”

“you had a crush on me?”

he watches as excitement slowly brews in your veins while you practically bounce with the need to know more. 

“the biggest crush,” he corrects with a knowing finger in your face. you swat it away as your tongue prods against your cheek in a grin. 

“so you're telling me that i could’ve bagged the atsumu miya.”

you still can, his heart aches. you always can. because it's the truth. he could be halfway across the world doing god knows what with god knows who, and he’d come home to you in a second if you so much as asked. 

but he can’t say that, because you're his friend. so he does what he does best, and he deflects.

“m’just saying! you were funny and pretty,” his voice drifts as the sentence goes on, and you’d think he was being sincere if he didn't suddenly perk up with a sarcastic, “and you gave me your homework sometimes.”

your eyes fall to the way his cupid’s bow bobs as he laughs. it makes you feel sixteen again, having a crush on your best friend and wanting to kiss the smug smile off of his stupid face.

but you can't, because he’s your friend. so you bite your tongue and passively let the moment falter. 

“yeah,” you scoff, “i’m the reason you passed geometry.” 

“and look at me now,” his head plops onto your shoulder in pride, “a genius.”

your eyes fall back on the photo. atsumu doesn't know if you see him in the background, but he hopes you feel him, hopes you know he was there. 

“i never would’ve known,” you whisper carefully. “i mean, you act the same way now that you did back then.”

exactly, atsumu wants to scream, because i still want you. i’m always going to want you. 

he can practically feel the weight of the words balancing on the tip of his tongue. he can say them, he’s sure of it. he's older now—stronger, more mature, and actually capable of being a man worthy of you. 

he opens his mouth to speak, and just as he does, your head turns and your eyes meet his. and feeling like the little boy in the picture, atsumu cowers. 

“maybe i should add acting to my long list of talents.”

gojo satoru.

a freshly turned seventeen year old, with crass and violence only ever painting him—most get tired of him. because when the pretty thing opens his mouth, without you present to offer silent sympathy, it never ends well.

as the passage of time carries on, change in gojo is little, but hefty in others surrounding him; accustomed and changed befitting to survive through his moods.

but the.. curiosity (maybe even frustration from people who see him in a romantic plight) only becomes covered in layers, instead of dying down. to question his character, the incessant wonder for the reason of his friskiness.

and he’s aware— observes the dull remarks or lingering eyes with nothing more than a shrug that is a second too quick and barely noticeable pout, the jut of his lower lip acting as a childish gateway to his feelings.

in his head, taking the title as the strongest, fingertips skimming heaven, it has no setbacks.

despite his denies, his power never came without stripping something; ousting him from the realm of elysian and chaining him to humanity. giving him traits of a god but characteristics of a human.

and what they failed to give him, was a proper tongue.

in moments like these, more specifically.

finding you sitting on the engawa shrouded in shadows, while he took his usual midnight walk when sleep didn’t come.

his stomach drops without reason, yet his feet carries him towards you, sitting close enough to bump shoulders. you’ve bumped hips, shoulders and heads before, forever affectionate and familiar— this time it feels wrong. your body motionless and swayed slightly with his movement.

he clenches and unclenches his hands, staring out towards the training grounds as you are. his normal banter isn’t coming to him, and you haven’t said a word.

with a few blinks, his eyes rest on the side of your face, and he turns into a jumble of nerves and shock when he sees your eyes cloudy and a wet trail of tears left behind. tears that have been shed not long since he joined you because your skin glistens.

he gulps, hard.

and when his hand softly touches your thigh, caressing the flesh with hesitant strokes, your gaze flits on him. immediately he drops eye contact, focusing on drawing patterns on your skin as his complexion pinks with your attention. you tilt your head slightly in his direction, drinking in his attempt of comfort.

you lean on him gently, your face finding its home on his neck. the feeling of your wet eyelashes on his skin sends shivers down him. your chest rises and falls, and with each breaths he counts, the uncertainty in his touches dwindles. your lips curve upwards when you feel his arm travel across your waist, tugging you closer.

(you know the reason for his bravado. though you’ll hand it to him that it’s nothing but subtle.

articulating his emotions will never come to him easy. he will never know how to start or say it right. awkward and tense at times of vulnerability, so he resorts to puffing out his chest and making it worse, sticking with the hot headed persona.)

as he angles his head on top of yours, quiet in hopes to calm the turmoil brewing behind your eyes, you have half a mind to tell him he’s not as bad as he fears.

but for now, you like being the only one who cracks his facade.

just wrote a whole ass megumi fic and tumblr decided to screw up at that exact moment and not process my post which led to me copying and pasting it I HAD THOUGHT into my notes and deleting the draft since it didn’t post BUT LITTLE DID I KNOW it disappeared and wouldn’t paste and now i HAVE NO MEGUMI FIC THATS LOST ME HOURS OF SLEEP and NO WAY OF GETTING IT BACK

❝ ANGEL

♡ gn!reader x gojo satoru

cw: hurt/ comfort, established relationship

synopsis: gojo is so unserious, but he loves you more than you’ll ever know

wc: 1400+

notes from mei!

hello guys it’s been so long! i’ve rewatched jjk AND WATCHED JJK 0 FINALLY and felt very inspired to write lol (i fully believe gojo is a ginormous piece of shit)

i’m very rusty but i hope u enjoy!

you’ve always known satoru was far different from what people portrayed. he’s so conceited that it’s painful, but you know it’s just because he has insecurities of his own that he feels the need to hide.

he’s not as much of a ladies man as people say—of course, he can have anyone he wants, but he's only ever wanted to be yours.

i’m your perfect match, satoru says, no one can compare!

he’s scared of never-ending cycles and repeated mistakes—of things he should be able to control but somehow can’t—frankly, satoru is the epitome of bullshit.

it’s only now you’ve realized that satoru is the most flawed human you’ll probably ever meet—he’s a wuss who never stops complaining, his mouth going on and on like a never-ending siren. his favourite hobby is to get on people’s nerves then treat himself to that expensive bakery downtown.

satoru is so excellent that his flaws are dimmed by the blinding lights of his perfections.

he can get away with just about anything work wise—but with you and your relationship, there’s a line he constantly loves to jump over, even when he knows you'll never let it slide.

“satoru come on,” you say, hand reaching for his, but as you draw closer you feel a slight resistance, unable to touch him. you draw your hand back, taken aback from his behaviour.

you sigh, quiet and drawn out. gojo feels a chill run through his body as immediate regret pumps through his veins.

"baby—"

"save it, satoru."

he bites his tongue, watching as your eyes glaze over. you turn away from him, crossing your arms as if you were giving yourself a much needed hug. it's silent in his... very large and luxurious penthouse living room and you're once again reminded of the social gap between you and satoru.

for a moment, you can hear the voices of everyone mocking your relationship—criticizing you, laughing at you for even thinking special grade sorcerer gojo satoru could have a soft spot for someone like you.

and you feel played. not by him, but by yourself for believing someone born from money and blessed with strength, could love someone like you—someone who came from nothing and had to work their way up and up, kissing ass and developing thick skin.

you don't think gojo will ever understand how privileged he is.

you also don't think he'll understand how bad he is for you.

"where do you think you're going?" he calls. you think carefully, sliding on your shoes as you undo the lock on his door.

"home."

it's been two days and as your tidying up your apartment, you hear a knock at your door.

you pause, already knowing exactly who it is.

a minute—maybe five passes as you don't hear another knock. you're unnerved because you still see the shadow of him through the very bottom of your door, stubborn as he always is.

you try not to breathe too loud or move too fast, but satoru's always a step ahead and as you're opening your window to escape through the emergency stairs, he's already there.

"that's cold, my love." he says, but it's missing his usual satoru-flare and you know he's not in usual mood.

you don't think you can stomach him being in front of you.

he's wearing his sunglasses, hair down with his hand making sure your window stays open. his other is stuffed in his pocket, casual and uncaring like he always is.

"that's rich coming from you."

satoru loves you.

and it's all he can think about as he looks at you.

he knows you're more hurt than angry, and it's taken him great restraint to not harass you—lovingly—over these past two days. and when he sees you, he realizes he definitely should’ve harassed you instead.

his eyes trace your frown, your posture that shuts him out. he wonders if he'll be able to fix his big mistake.

with you in front of him, gojo doesn't feel like he's the strongest anymore. all the words he prepared to serenade you back into his arms sounded like gibberish and no longer felt right.

"why are you here, satoru?" he doesn't miss the way your voice breaks, "why do you always do this to me?"

tears begin to clump in his your lashes, throat tightening as you stare at him in disbelief. the air is so tense. you feel like you've been stripped bare as a tear rolls down your cheek.

"you make me feel so loved," your voice shakes, "you lift me up so high and make me feel so proud to be me."

satoru wants to tell you that loving you feels so natural.

"but you're so mean," you cry. the tears are falling freely now and you're choking on your words. "you do all these—all these things, making me feel special and—and seen, only for you to neglect me and twist my words a week later, because you can't handle being treated the way you treat me!"

he wants to tell you that seeing you like this is eating him alive.

"you're so ignorant—are you kidding me? thinking i'm overreacting for getting mad th—that you cancelled on like, the third rescheduled date to take on a low-level mission? and when i confronted you about it, forgave you for it, you turn on your infinity when all i wanted to do was hug you?"

your arms fall to your side, sick of his face and the way he’s just standing there silent. "it wasn't even about the date. i feel like you're bored of me and everyone who said we wouldn't last—"

"don't finish that sentence." he interrupts, no longer able to bite his tongue. his lanky figure climbs through your window and you feel even more vulnerable now that he's in your space.

"i'll never get bored of you, you keep me on my toes too much." he lays his cards on the table, knowing this is the last chance he has to prove he loves you more than anything on this earth. "i know how harsh you are to yourself, so i celebrate your tiny achievements because i'm genuinely proud of everything you do. i'm aware that being the best at work doesn't mean i'll be the best boyfriend. i forget that sometimes...” you glare, “most times." he corrects.

satoru takes a careful step toward you. "i care about you—more than you know, i think. you don't deserve to be neglected at all, and you don't.." he inhales through his teeth, "you don't have to put up with me if you don't want to anymore. i know how hard i make it, and i know a sorry isn't going to make it better."

you don't think you've ever seen satoru look so small.

"i can't ask you to stay with me, but we both know how selfish i am, so i'll beg you to stay with me anyways."

he doesn't miss the quick upturn of your lips. but it disappears as fast as it came.

you break eye contact and he feels his world shatter.

"how are you going to fix this?"

"...by reminding you i'm your perfect match?" he squeaks.

you sigh, "you're so unserious."

lanky arms wrap around your figure, caging you against his chest. you close your eyes, naturally sinking into his embrace. "i won't blame you if you break up with me, but i'll just let you know i'll definitely drop dead and you'll be responsible for killing the strongest sorcerer in the universe."

"that doesn’t sound that bad. everyone would know me and fear me—you know how popular i’d be?”

he's silent for a good, long second. "that's cold, my love."

it's so childish, in the way that he speaks. but in a way, he just revealed more to you than his semi-serious little monologue could ever do.

satoru is such a wuss, but he's never had someone love him like you do and he malfunctions. he can't fathom the thought of losing you, but also can't stomach the fact he's not good for you.

but he's trying. you know he is just from the way his knuckles brush against your cheek during the early hours of the morning; you know he's trying when he sneaks off during work to join you on your lunch break.

you know he’s trying because his students say he seems so gentle when he looks at you.

you know he's trying because he's here right now, after showing you he’s not the strongest despite everyone (and himself) proclaiming he is.

your arms curl around him and satoru gets his answer.

he's home.