TW:smut! cum play (?), cum eating, unprotected sex, pure fucking filth, do tell me if missed any
gojo satoru who doesn‘t want kids but doesn‘t pull out either.
mindlessly, he thrusts into you as if his life depends on it. his eyes are closed, head thrown back with his hands on the small of your back pressing it down, forcing your back to arch.
it hasn‘t been remotely long since your last orgasm, and another one is loading inside you. it’s all caused by the natural arch of his thick cock that keeps hitting your g-spot, causing you become delirious with every passing second.
“‘tooru—” you sweetly moan, tongue already losing it‘s place in your mouth. meanwhile, the white haired man behind you keeps moaning, barely hearing your voice over his as he whines.
“j- just a bit more pretty.” he pants, both hands moving to your waist as his thrusts become rather sloppy and deeper as he shudders with every thrust, feeling your walls tighten around him sweetly.
you shudder, feeling his cock pulse inside you, going deeper with every thrust, his hands clawing at your waist as he chases that sweet release that washes over him in no time.
you both moan so lewdly. his sweet voice leaving past his lips as he stills, dumping his cum inside of you. you stop as well, feeling his liquid inside you. all that stickiness feeling well inside of you, spurting and painting your walls white.
“fuck baby,” he moans.
though he did dump himself inside of you without a care, he doesn‘t want kids, and you don‘t feel prepared yet. you‘re not on birth control, and neither is he.
you sigh in pleasure as you feel him pull out, white cum that belongs to him and you wrapped around his pretty cock. gojo swallows thickly before he grabs your waist and flips you to your stomach.
“alright baby, you know what to do,” he looks up at you, your tired yet smutty eyes meeting his lust filled ones as you nod.
his hand moves to the lower part of your stomach as he watches your cunt with lust in his eyes. you prop yourself on your shoulders as you look down at him between your legs, you smirk lightly before you push.
with one hard push from you and a light pressure from his hand, dribbles of his cum drip from your pussy. you moan, feeling his fingers ghost on the lips of your cunt, opening it to reveal more of you pushing all his seed out of you as best as you possibly can.
and when you feel like can‘t anymore, he‘ll sweetly smile at you, saying “oh don‘t worry, i can help you with that.” then, his long, slender fingers will delve into your pussy.
your throw your head back as his fingers rake the walls of your cunt, bringing the remnants of his cum out of your pussy. and when he sees his middle and ring finger glisten with cum when he takes them out, he‘ll waste no time and put them into his mouth. he does that all while he looks at you, looking lewdly before his fingers go back in.
when he finds that his fingers can no longer pick out anything, he‘ll prop his mouth before you glistening cunt and stick his tongue straight into you. best part is when you‘ll take his hair and push your cunt straight to his mouth. he‘ll smirk, grabbing your thighs and straight up lick you in the inside. he calls this process ’just making sure’ to make sure that there is no more cum in your cunt, to ensure that there will be no babies coming your way.
and when he‘s down with taking all remnants of his white potent seed out of you, he‘ll crawl over to you and dangle his cock before your mouth. of course, you naturally will eat up and lick him. you‘ll eat the mixture of yours and his ecstasy clean.
and when you‘re done, you two will share a cute deep kiss, tasting each other. <3
oh, how can one be so beautiful?gojo satoru asks himself.
his blue eyes are illuminated by the sun rays as he stands there admiring you, though he does not stand further than seven feet away from you. his lips are churned upwards with his fingers holding the bouquet of flowers tight, heart beating faster by the second as he simply watches with joy, adoration, and fascination in his gaze.
he cannot stop himself from admiring the sigh before his ocean eyes.
not once in his twenty-seven years of living did he ever think he would find someone reading a book so intriguing, yet here he is: doing just as he thought he never would.
you look so beautiful to him. figure beneath the trees as the wind compliments the way your hair flows with it, feet laid out with your back pressed against the wooden body of the tree. such a simple sight, yet so breathtaking in his eyes.
as he stands there underneath the spring sun, you finally look up from your book and spot the white haired man who admires you from not-so afar. a smile cannot help but etch on your face as he walks over with his hand running through his hair.
“hello amore,” his voice is like honey, sweet and smooth as he hands you the bouquet of pink roses. “for you.” it cannot be helped that there is a slight blush is on his cheeks as he watches you take the flowers and bring it up to your nose to smell the batch, to him you just look so beautiful even as you do the most mundane action.
“thank you, darling.” you say your thanks before you settle it to your lap and usher him to kneel before you, and he does as asked. when he is there on his knees before you, you lean forward and press a sweet kiss against his lips.
sure, gojo satoru may be the strongest man to ever walk this planet, but when he is with your presence: he is nothing but a man who yearns for your love.
so when he feels your lips against his, it‘s just natural for him to fall at ease and press further as his hand moves to hold your cheek. blue eyes fluttering close as when feels your fingers on his nape. all the butterflies in his stomach erupt as his heart beats erratically for you.
sometime, everybody will love someone, and something in your kiss told gojo satoru, his sometime is now.
you took a deep breath and looked at him for an uncomfortable few seconds “i love you.” spilled from your mouth and he just melts. he melts and peppers your face with kisses, holding your hands in his own and now that the words have been spoken he can’t stop saying it. he’s the type of guy who’s patient, in his mind he had basically decided he loved you the first time you kissed. now with the words that were coming out of your mouth (which he gladly waited for.) he wanted to kiss you more and more and more.
Kugisaki Nobara:
she would probably need a minute to process what you said. she’s thought about it before, but is unsure if how you feel will end up hurting her more. she asks you to repeat so many times before she feels comfortable saying it back and that’s an even more special moment. when you wake up, looking over at her, muttering a little “i love you so much” and having her mumble back a half flustered “i love you too” very quickly before pecking your cheek and getting up to run for breakfast with a red on her cheeks.
Fushiguro Megumi:
he’s unsure how to feel. he wants to say it back, valid how you feel about him. he works himself into knots trying to figure out a way to say it back and a way to make sure you’re not hurt. he didn’t think just to tell you he wasn’t ready first. he didn’t want to put that on you, but now having avoided you for days, he abruptly stops you in a hallway of some kind, corning you. “i like you a lot!” he says quickly all at once, looking away as to not face your disappointment in him. you however grab his hand softly. “you don’t have to say it back… whenever you’re ready, okay?” he nods very quickly and just as abruptly as he corned you, he’s already down the hallway. smiling to himself as he stared forward a little spaced out at how amazing you are.
Gojo Satoru:
you were in bed, his dangly arms wrapped around you when you turned to face up at him, both your mostly bare skin touching and you tiredly whisper an “i love you.” as you yawn, cuddling closer to him. you’re sound asleep before he can even react appropriately and there he lays, you in his arms as he stares at the ceiling, as he questions every life decision he ever made. he had come to a conclusion as you slept soundly. he would go… again. yeah, he thought. it was a great idea. he had clearly overstayed his usual time with someone and it was about time to leave anyway… then he started thinking why it was time to go? or why he had stayed so long with you? usually he was dating 5 different people who eventually found out about each other and that took care of that, but he can’t think of any recent date he had that wasn’t you or the last time he had checked the dating apps he so conveniently removed from his home screen after that one particular night with you. he looked at you again and smiled, kissing your head gently. he sighed with content and nervousness as he muttered “i love you too.” at your unconscious mind.
Nanami Kento:
it was casual, almost too causal. you had been living together, for convenience of course. you both told yourselves. he needed a roommate and you needed a place to live… and then you needed a workspace and he needed an office and suddenly you shared a bed. more space efficient of course. the sex was just a plus to whatever relationship you had. it was fine if you cuddled after, aftercare was just as important. you could both use the physical touch and conversations and meals and… it slipped out when he walked into the room, grabbing his cuff links when you looked sleepily at him. “have a good day at work, love you” you yawned, rubbing your eyes. “thank you. i will. love you too, bye.” and just like that both of you had barely been realised that your relationship had progressed. not until he came home later in the evening and you were a nervous wreck and he looked a little more tired than usual. “i didn’t mean we-“ “of course it was just polite.” “yes. we haven’t become more or less than we were before.” “yes.” the end note was kind of disappointing for both of you. though when you both laid in bed that night, a steamy session knocked out, your minds drifted to it again. the morning came and you woke up to him getting dressed. “morning” you smiled, rubbing sleep out of your eyes. “good morning, i was just on my way… i’ll see you later of course. love you, bye.” he said a little stiffly, testing the waters. “of course, love you too” you said, throwing the covers over you again. he smiled to himself, moving to give you a kiss on the forehead before heading out.
Being naturally athletic and a powerhouse of energy, it’s very hard to keep up with him when he’s in training yuuji mode. He’s very supportive though, always encouraging you to push yourself to your limits in an annoyingly sweet way of his own. Always promising you’d get back to the dorms and pig out with his secret snack stash which you are yet to see for yourself.
Fushiguro Megumi:
He’s never considered training with someone else before, it was always a solo event for him. Yet when you asked him oh so nicely, he couldn’t help, but blush. He was worried that you wouldn’t be able to keep up or he’d be too sweaty and gross and you’d immediately lose any interest you had in training with him in the first place. He starts slow with the sets he gives you and then builds it slowly, but surely. Making sure you’re doing alright every step of the way, trying his best to be more attentive to your needs in(and out) of training.
Kugisaki Nobara:
She never really knew she needed to train before coming to jujutsu high, she barely thought she needed training either until almost every person beat her in laps and you were right there with her in training ability. So you took a double pinkie vow to train together and then you showed up only to go get coffee and shop a little more. You finally started training when she picked the perfect outfit to work out in (which was an amazing outfit.) and got to work, spotting each other and pushing each other (affectionately). You both got better and better at the training aspect of learning more cursed technique and you did it together, celebrating with a fun day planned at a festival nearby.
Inumaki Toge:
His training with you consists of not training and feral running across the school grounds, going long after you gave up. When he’s “training” he basically sits on the grass while you stand above him, stretching your muscles for as long as you can before you completely fall apart while trying to keep up with him. You mostly engage in conversations which mostly consist of you nodding along to everything he rambles out, the other students are surprised at just how much he’ll go on and on and on, most of the rambles completely unintelligible even by the masters of Inumaki interpreters. You can tell he’s getting close to starting when his words start to become less and less frequent , seeing the little cogs in his brain turning as he stares at your usual course. You normally take a deep breath as he stands, giving his legs a small stretch before racing ahead, leaving you in the dust. You always meet at the vending machines after training, Inumaki always chooses to do a lap or two more than you.
Yoshino Junpei:
He does couples yoga with you on Wednesdays with some old ladies in his neighbourhood. You’re not as flexible as he is, but good god is it nice to see him fold himself like a pretzel every week. Highlight of your week. He was shy about it at first hearing about Yuuji’s intense training at the gym, but once you joined him and made a fool of yourself trying to compete with him, he felt a lot better. He may not have the physical capability to pick you up, but he can climb you like a goddamn jungle gym.
Gojo Satoru:
You’d like to think he’d train and you’d be right. At least that’s what he thinks training is, which is walking barefoot in the wilderness to reconnect his life force with the earth, but he really just wants to be barefoot in the woods. He tells you (lies) and says that he likes to jog in the woods. So of course you bring your joggers and appropriate footwear and you arrive to find him sitting on a rock with already cold black coffee from Starbucks in his hand and eating a cake pop. He immediately proceeds to tell you that you should’ve told him you wanted coffee and cake pops then maybe he would’ve saved some for you (he wouldn’t). You’re almost 100% sure he took you out here to murder you, but when he takes his shoes off, wearing no socks underneath and proceeds to walk deep straight into the thick woods, you have completely lost your mind and he’s just about ready to regain his.
Nanami Kento:
You mention that you are a bit rusty and need some training most likely within earshot of Nanami and suddenly you are woken up at 5 in the morning with him hovering over you. His training is an intense full body, muscle straining 3 hours of testing his and your limit and your muscles hurt by the end. Sure you’ve been known to train from time to time, but the sheer amount of exercise you have done has probably worn you out for the next 3 weeks. Yet at 5am you are woken up again. You don’t say no of course, how could you when training with you has probably been the most you’ve seen Nanami emote almost ever. Your muscles are throbbing by the time it’s 8am, but instead of nodding politely and continuing his daily routine. He sets a small bento box next to you with a thank you, nods and continues his routine, excusing himself to shower. You happily eat the small breakfast he made you. He absolutely woke up at 4am just to prepare a reward for you at the end of training and continues to do this for as long as you train. He slowly makes them bigger as you get better at his training routine, making sure to feed you well and lingering just a little longer to watch you wolf down his prepared meal, smiling softly as you look satisfied.
Ijichi Kiyotake:
This man has never run a mile in his life and yet when you asked him to train with you he almost busted his pants. He came wearing what he thought would be appropriate gym wear, something akin to a school sports uniform, but found you in probably the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. You started training without him and you were already building a good sweat and now he was building quite a sweat as well. You don’t expect him to join, content with him watching you and keeping you company, but he insisted on joining in on one of your sets as soon as you paid enough attention to him. He tried. You basically held him up as you helped him take a seat, he was about to burst as he felt the heat from your sweaty sweaty body next to his. That’s the gist of what you could say. He really tried, but by the end he was so out of breath, you decided to stop your training early to take him out for breakfast to make up for the amount of squats he had done for you which drove him even crazy as you insisted to pay for the food and drinks and basically anything he needed to be back in a normal state. You both agreed to keep him off the gym mats forever and he opted to watch you for a bit before you ended so you could get breakfast together.
A/N: Hey besties!! I made a jjk studying series for all of you who are studying for exams rn! Let’s start with Gojo! <33
Gojo’s luxury apartment was a nice place to study, lofi hip hop playing softly from the speakers, a big table next to the window wall that let the sunlight deep through, shining down on your revision notes.
“My little nerd still studying?” You hear a teasing voice from behind.
“Mhm” you reply, eyes still glued to the notes in front of you.
You hear a sigh this time but you can tell he’s come closer, then suddenly you find two long arms wrapping around your shoulders, and his chin plopped on to your head.
“What if I just… paid the exam board to make you pass?”
You laugh at Gojo’s suggestion, the worse thing is you knew he was probably being serious.
“I’m serious” he says, confirming your thoughts as he pokes your cheek.
“Too pretty to be studying” he mutters against your cheek as he pressed kisses to it, making you giggle.
But as you reached to the side to grab your pen, Gojo quickly snatched it first.
“Huh?”
“Nuh uh! No more work unless you eat some kikufuku with me” he said, leaving no more for argument as you struggle to grab the pen from his hand, he grins widely as you jump to match his tall figure but fail.
And as you jump up to grab it one more time, his long arms finds it’s way to your waist, tugging you into his embrace with a chuckle. “Ah! Gojo!-“
“C’mon bubs, time for some mochi” he says casually but his smug grin is present. He carries you like a baby as he grabs the mochi from the kitchen and return to the living area, sitting down in your seat and placing you on his lap.
You smile gratefully at Gojo before giving him a kiss, as he lets you return to studying while he feeds you the mochi, taking a bite out of it every now and then too. Occasionally, playfully biting your cheek but you didn’t mind.
Eventually the tall white haired man got a call, you feel his muscular arms tighten around your waist as he muttered a ‘be right back love’ in your ear. You kiss his jaw before he leaves to answer the call.
Now you don’t know how long you sat there studying for, but once you took a deep breath and shifted your eyes away from notes momentarily, you notice a post it note and one more kikufuku next to you.
‘So proud of you bby :)’ was written, with a small dick drawing next to it.
You giggle to yourself as you munched on the mochi. Studying doesn’t feel so bad when it’s with Gojo <3
A/N: Happy Saturday besties! EX HUSBAND GOJO WON THE VOTE!! Don’t worry though, I got bodyguard Megumi coming soon
Ever since the incident between you and Gojo regarding the third child, things had been eerily quiet from his side. No 3am calls, no surprise visits, nothing.
Perhaps that’s why you felt on edge when it was Gojo’s turn to have the kids for the weekend, and he still hadn’t arrived, your hands slightly shaking as you tied your son’s shoelaces.
“You’re overthinking it y/n” said a deep voice from your phone. “Maybe he’s just running a little late”
You sigh before nodding your head. Nanami was always your voice of reason. Sometimes you wonder if he could give good advice about your abusive relationship with Gojo, but you always kept that a secret from Nanami, not wanting to burden him with your own issues.
You’re suddenly pulled out of your thoughts at the sound of a knock on the door. You take a deep breath as you turn to open the door, feeling slightly confident, knowing Gojo won’t pull anything with his mutual friend Nanami on call.
But the view in front of you wasn’t what you were expecting.
“Geto?”
The black haired man smiled at you sweetly as you greeted eachother. “What are you doing here?” You ask confusedly.
“Gojo was sent on a last minute session, so looks like the kids got me for the weekend!” He said, but he sounded uneasy.
“Oh? Okay.” You say, slightly taken aback that Gojo didn’t tell you beforehand. You hear your kids squeal from behind as they spot their uncle Geto, quickly rushing to the tall buff man, clinging onto his legs. “Hello lil monsters!!” He coos making them giggle.
You smile fondly at your loving children, before returning your attention to Geto, “well we’re off to my mom’s house for the weekend, but don’t hesitate to call me if you need anything Geto” you say, kissing your children goodbye.
Geto looks up at you confused and slightly tense. “We?”
You nod “Nanami is coming with me for the weekend, I feel too tired to drive so he offered to take me there and keep me company!”
You silently observe Geto’s uneasiness at the mention of Nanami, he knew you two were close, so why was he so stiff?
Geto blinks twice before awkwardly laughing “aww haha how sweet of him, anyways we should probably head out now, c’mon kids!” He calls them.
You place a hand on Geto’s broad shoulder, gaining the raven haired man’s attention. “Are you okay Geto? You seem uneasy, if taking care of the kids isn’t ideal for you this weekend, I can always take them with me” you assure him but the man shake his head quickly and reassures you it’s fine with a pat on your hand, before awkwardly exiting with the kids.
You stand in front of your door for a second confused. Why did he seem so uneasy? After all the years you’ve known Geto, he’s never been so anxious.
Only when he lies.
You shrug your shoulders and carry on getting ready. After all, Geto was a trustworthy friend of yours and Gojo’s for years, you’re sure he’d tell you if there was a problem.
You’re pulled out of your thoughts once again as a car beeps from outside. You smile as you spot Nanami’s sleek car waiting, you quickly skip out the house, joining your friend.
——
Nanami stands beside you, finally the door opens and you’re greeted with your mom.
“Hi mom” you say, entering the house before she can greet you and Nanami properly.
You sigh dramatically as you place your bags on your floor and stretch your aching legs. You smile as you hear chatter from the garden, deciding to follow the sound.
“Err! Y/n! How about you let Nanami relax in the living room for a bit first?” You mom asks. You pull a funny face at your mom’s weird suggestion, but allow her nonetheless, continuing your path to the garden
“Ahh this is such a nice breeze, I miss thi-“ your sentence was cut off as you paused in your movements.
There sat Gojo in the hammock chair, long legs man spreading as he turn towards you with a menacing grin. “Oh? Hello y/n”
You furrow your eyebrows at your annoying ex husband, internally beating yourself up for believing Geto’s pathetic lie.
“What are you doing here?” You ask, and he ignores your question momentarily to pat his lap, “c’mere baby!” He says so sweetly but only you knew the twisted lust behind it, “and what kind of question is that? We’re family! Even if we’re divorced, I always saw your family as my own!” He charms the table, your cousins cooing at his sickly sweet words.
You move forward to question him further, but his large hands grab your hips firmly, pulling you forward, making you stumble into his embrace.
“Oh? Don’t fall for me now” he says smartly as he grabs you securely, cradling you into his muscular arms. Your family once again laughed at his jokes, as if it’s the funniest thing they ever heard.
Spoiler alert, it’s not, but Gojo was too good at faking the charm of a perfect man.
You gritted your teeth as Gojo stroked your hair absentmindedly with you in his lap, as he laughed along with your family. Humiliating was the only word to describe it, but you stayed silent, knowing if you fought against him, everyone would think you’re the crazy problematic one. Oh lord, they wonder how Gojo ‘puts up with you’
After all, women are always the hysterical ones right?
“Babe try this mojito, it’s so good” he says with a grin, pressing the glass to your lips but before you could protest against it, a voice came through the garden.
“Y/n? Oh there you are. Hello Gojo” says the nonchalant man.
Gojo turned towards the voice, smile dropping as he stares at Nanami, who casually strolled into the garden.
Your cousins subtly swoon as they rush to introduce themselves.
You smile at Nanami’s effortless charm, your smile widening evilly as you realise why Geto felt uneasy at the mention of Nanami.
You can feel Gojo’s unnerving, intense stare on your face. He stares silently between you and Nanami, swishing his drink around. His face is unreadable. “And here I was ready to mend things” he mutters but you hear it. You hiss as his fingers dig into your hips.
“Why is he here?” His whispers in your ear and you can hear the envy in every word.
You ignore the pain shooting through your hips and grin from ear to ear as you tilt your head teasingly to meet his your ex husband’s glare.
Brushing your nose against his in mocking affection, you reply “why not babe?”
YOU KNOW WHAT⁉️THESE CHEATING ANGST THAT I’VE BEEN READING LITERALLY AFFECTED ME MENTALLY–I COULDN’T EVEN VIEW MYSELF BEING WITH MY FAVES ANYMORE BECAUSE I FEEL LIKE THEY’RE GONNA CHEAT ON ME AND I WOULDN’T BLAME THEM i literally read angst to motivate myself that i deserve better but now im in a slump of insecurity and WRATH
i think seeing an y/n who knows they deserve better and put their cheating partners on their places WOULD HELP so pls recommend some shawtys ☝️
A CHECKERED FLAG AND BURNING IRON – Chapter Three (2.2k)
~ The tale of a Final Girl and life after her starring role, oh, and Gojo’s there too. But for how long will his hand be able to hold on to Her’s when she’s forever changed from who he knew, and can he keep up?
~ A Final Girl/Slasher tale, College AU, Street Racer!Gojo X Outcast/Final Girl!Reader, slow burn
~ Warnings: Minors DNI, Horror/Slasher movie themes and subjects, PTSD, mentions of sexual activity, non-con, kidnapping, bullying, blood, fighting/physical injury
~ Author’s Declaration: The concept of Street Racer! Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, and Ryomen Sukuna are borrowed with permission from Minouyujis (POST)
Chapter Three (word count: 2,282)
Thursday mornings would usually be your day to sleep in a little, as your first class of the day started a bit later than usual. However, Gojo’s Thursdays were longer than yours was. He had an early class, followed by heading down town to spend time with his Father, “Learning the family business” as it were. You would borrow one of Gojo’s shirts and his hoodie for your day, a quick bowl of cereal, and then he would drop you off to your dorm. Although you were half asleep for the drive, thanks to the late time and mental energy race nights took out of you, you and Gojo decided you would move in Friday night. He’d get a hold of some boxes and bags and drop them off later that day for you. You didn’t have much in your dorm that you’d pack, leaving behind bed linen and furniture in case you needed to move back in, getting lucky enough to have a solo dorm, you weren’t going to completely leave it.
Most of your things you could pack up that night, and the last of it you would shove into bags Friday after classes and just before Gojo could come get you. He’d probably come get you in his BMW, as it could actually fit people in the back seats and has a good amount of trunk space. He calls it his most boring car, but it’s what he drives when he has company. You grabbed a to-go morning drink and snack from the café across the street from campus and made it to class just in time. In their usual spots, Haibara and Nanami, with a spot in the middle for you. You and Haibara shared quite a few classes together, so you two became friends. Nanami was on a different course, but shared this one class with the two of you. Becoming friends with them, you learned that they went through all of Middle and High school together.
You’re not sure really how the two of them became so close, as their personalities are quite different. You put it down to “an extrovert adopting an introvert”, like you and Gojo a little bit. You mostly hung out with the three of them in classes, and sometimes lunch breaks, or the odd theatre trip for the latest horror movie. So, you were friends, but not super close, but they were good lads. Pretty clean and tidy, not visiting parties much, not dating anyone (you think). Haibara went to occasional parties, he liked being social, but still kept away from anything too rough. Nanami was so uptight, you’d think he was a robot with flesh at times. But your shared love of horror movies, and how movies are made in general, was the connection you two had. Poor Haibara was a victim of this hobby, he wasn’t one for gore or unhappy endings.
Both had school and part-time jobs, so their time was precious. They were the few in your college life to befriend you. Everyone else wouldn’t give you the time of day, but you liked it that way. While Nanami lectured Haibara about having one’s items in order and ready for the day (again) as he forgot his laptop (again), you half heard the girls in front of you whisper about a classmate who didn’t come home to her sorority house last night and hasn’t been to campus yet. Probably hooked up with a guy from the race last night and is sleeping off a night drinking, you mused.
You and Haibara waved Nanami farewell as he left to the library for his free period, and you two made your way to your next class. It was an uneventful day overall, you met Gojo in the car park after your last class for some boxes and a few duffle bags. He couldn’t stay as his parents wanted a family dinner. He always looked so down just before these types of nights. Gojo has met your parents a few more times than you’ve met his. The rare times you met them, always left a sour feeling in your soul. Like stereotypes, being from rich high-business families, they looked down on you and had plenty of back handed comments. At least they were happy that Gojo was growing out of his playboy ways, but they looked forward to Gojo one day finding someone who would be capable of having a higher status job than they believed you could get to.
As much as you would like to be there to support Gojo through family dinners that disguised lectures about legacy and what’s expected of him, he hated how his parents talked to you and about you. So, you wished him your blessing of strength and told him to message you if he needs a chat. The packing went well, as you received occasional texts from Gojo about wanting to (comically) suddenly self-combust to escape this torment and be your extra crispy marshmallow. The man had a very strange humour to help him though such frustrating moods. You also got messages from Nanami about key take aways from a ‘behind the scenes/movie design’ TV show he would listen to while he studied or worked on papers. You stayed up way later than intended, packing, messaging your boys, and getting distracted on social media. But once the heaviness of your limbs and dry ache of your eyes caught up to you, you threw in the towel. Not much left to pack for tomorrow night, you were excited.
But the morning would quickly turn sour and your plans into a curve. Somewhere between your alarm going off and leaving for your first class, you received messages from quite a few people. All boiling down to a connecting event, the classmate you overheard being talked about yesterday was officially declared missing. Her phone and shoes were found in the woods near the industrial park that this week’s race was held at. You blood was chilled from everyone’s panic. The news articles reporting the stress of the community and police investigation as the last disappearance of a college aged woman was still recent. The recently missing young woman wasn’t in any of your classes, she was a campus princess and head of her sorority house. And a regular track bunny who had a fling with Gojo last year that she never got over. She would encourage some of the bullying and rude comments you got track side, but she would always get called out or sassed by Gojo.
But worse, you knew Gojo would be called in by police as a suspect, again. You parents messaged you in a state of fear, going over what strategies you had in place to never be alone outside of your dorm rooms. Kokochi would be asking if you’re alright and if he should send you some personal protection that he purchased from, well, you really don’t want to know, but you’re sure it would be hella strong. But, maybe, you should take him up on the offer now. Haibara and Nanami said they would walk you to and from your dorms and classes in your group’s group chat, Gojo said he had to go into the station today and couldn’t get anyone to pick you up that afternoon for your planned move. With a bit of messaging around during your first class, Nanami would help you move and Shoko would let you in as she would be home. The energy around campus was just as dreary as the grey clouds that lingered over head all day. Hushed whispers of fear, tense shoulders, no woman daring to walk alone anywhere even during the day. An email from the college stated security would increase soon, but not when or by how much.
Nanami was stiffer and quieter than usual when he came to help you move, he was scared over you. You tried to calm his nerves with jokes and mentions of your plans to not go anywhere alone, but it didn’t do much to chip away at his stone hard focus. Thankfully Shoko was more balanced in her approach to everything. She was excited to have you moving in and helped you get settled in. Setting you up with a key and passwords to get in the house and showing you how the home security system worked. She also would join you in helping you pack your clothes away so you to could get to know each other, and to have a nose at Gojo’s closet. A brighter energy and a spot of fun that helped pick things up from the dark around campus. There was no word yet on when Gojo would get home by late afternoon. You offered to Shoko to at least cook dinner for the house hold, as a way to show you earning your place in the house. It was mostly take-out and Geto’s occasional cooking around here, and finally having access to a proper kitchen meant you could destress and distract yourself on the regular with your hobby of cooking and baking.
Shoko sent Geto on a shopping trip to get a few things you were missing. Oddly, he hadn’t once sent you a rude message or even talked to you since you arrived earlier in the afternoon. You guessed the energy around campus got to him too. You prepped what you could for that night’s dinner of spaghetti bolognaise and meatballs. It’s a recipe of yours that you knew Gojo loved, he claimed that the more carbs and protein, the better for him. Next to his passionate love affair of all things sweet and sugary. Seriously, how does he still have all his teeth? After you and Shoko enjoyed your first dinner together, Geto got take-out and had it in his room, and once the kitchen was cleaned did you finally hear from Gojo. He would be home in an hour or so, and said not to wait up for him in case he was late. Even though you followed his advice and were winding down from the day with your phone in bed, it felt too strange, sleeping in his bed without him there. He thought he would be back by now. You had finally drifted off just as he finally did come home.
The relief that your sleeping form in his bed brought him was brief, as his thoughts of what was burning in his blood from the long day came bubbling back up. Old men droning on and on into him their bullshit theories and ridiculous questioning. He proved everywhere he had been and how he had nothing to do with the recent disappearance. But the frustration and pressure the police and investigators felt was too easy to take out on him. It always broke him down, nearly everyone he knows telling him who they assumed he was or telling him what they assume he is to become. You wouldn’t hear him cry in the shower that night, but you would feel it in his body the next morning when you woke and felt his tight grip on you. You two wouldn’t leave his bed until late in the morning, Gojo refusing to let you move and breathing deeply of you. You could feel the ache in his bones, the fear in his breath, and the tiredness in his eyes. You let him have whatever he needed that morning.
The weekend would have a muted energy to it, getting stuck into study and assignment work would help keep your mind off of things. All the news or posts around social media was of ways for women to stay safe and how to be aware, or, just outright messages of staying home and quiet. Through the week, you could see Gojo repairing his mask piece by piece. Even at your request to skip a race night when one came up in the middle of the week, he threw on a smile and said how he can’t let this beautiful night go to waste. He told you to stay home that night, and he would message you on the way home and pick you up whatever late night treat you wanted. Even though you wanted him to stay home, you felt good that at least parts of him were coming back. He would be racing a few nights that week, but by Friday night, you were feeling cooped up and worn down from the energy still lingering around.
The message for women to stay inside and watch their backs was getting on your last nerve. Like it was their fault they went missing, and not the fault of some psycho you’re sure would get the pity angle from the courts when they’re caught, lawyers painting whoever is responsible as mentally incapable of fully understanding their actions due to trauma or severe mental illness or some other bullshit to get a reduced sentence. All kinds of exaggerated speculation filtered into your head from your imagination finding something convincing you out of other thoughts, but still keeping on topic so you might listen. Enough, you’ve been watching too much tv and reading too many wild fictional stories that your mind is wandering into all kinds of strange territory. You’re just stressed out and tired of being locked in. So, you asked to join Gojo on his Friday night race. He was hesitant for once, normally he drags you out with him. Only on the condition that you would stay with Choso or race in the car with him, were you able to make it out of the house.
This night out would see you thankfully not in the passenger seat with Gojo while he raced, and would see you two return home safe and late. The energy would start to lift around campus just a little over the next few days, but enough for you to breathe a bit more. Gojo even hosted a house party on Sunday night, which you declined to join as the Monday morning after party pain would not be worth it. But this breather would also mean a drop in everyone’s guard far too soon.
A CHECKERED FLAG AND BURNING IRON – Chapter Two (2.8k)
~ The tale of a Final Girl and life after her starring role, oh, and Gojo’s there too. But for how long will his hand be able to hold on to Her’s when shes forever changed from who he knew, and can he keep up?
~ A Final Girl/Slasher tale, College AU, Street Racer!Gojo X Outcast/Final Girl!Reader, slow burn
~ Warnings: Horror/Slasher movie themes and subjects, PTSD, mentions of sexual activity, non-con, kidnapping, bullying, blood, fighting/physical injury
~ Author’s Declaration: The concept of Street Racer! Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, and Ryomen Sukuna are borrowed with permission from Minouyujis (POST). Small amendment, in Chapter One, Suguru’s contact in Y/N’s phone was “Dumbass #1”, I have changed this to “Asshole #1”. I want to use “Dumbass” in a friendly way for someone else, and I feel this new contact name suits his behaviour in this part of the story better.
Chapter Two - (word count: 2,858)
The air was soft from the lingering light of the setting sun, soft pinks and blues of a pastel dream soon to fade into the dark embrace of blue and purple. It was an amazing sight. Leaning against the stone half wall, you took a few photos of the sky above to remember it by, and could hear Gojo’s favourite car coming up to you in the carpark outside your dorm. You continued to look up and enjoy the moment, as Gojo waited but a single moment to honk his horn at you. Even though you knew he would do this, it still startled you. You waved and made your way to the passenger side. You always liked to admire the midnight blue of this car, his beloved classic styled Mustang. A wide smile graced his face as you got in and hugged him. He pulled you into himself tight and peppered any inch of your skin he could get to with kisses.
Giggling like a school girl, you tapped his shoulder and cried your surrender if he stopped. “But why?! I’ve been oh so deprived of love today, and your face is just (kiss) so (kiss) cute!” He argued. But he relaxed and let you lean back enough to see him. Gifting him a light kiss on the lips, and a smile. “You find everything cute, and Hi, by the way. How was your day?”.
“Classes that take up too much of my time so I only stayed a short while, then had a nice peaceful day to enjoy a drive around town, had another interview, then spent time with Suguru before coming to pick up my Pumpkin”. Having dated Gojo longer than anyone before you, gave you a look at the Satoru not many others got to see. He loved racing for the thrill, but also slow drives to anywhere. This led him to be frequently late, but it was for good reason. Gojo saw the beauty and artistry of the world, a youthful sense of wonder he desperately clung to as his upbringing became more and more cold and distant over the years. That wonder of the world is something you two shared. One of the reasons you two could connect.
You’ve also seen the toll his family’s expectations took on him. The quiet and deafening stillness he would take behind closed doors when things got really bad. You would comfort him with just being physically there. He didn’t need words, just a soft touch and a reminder to not ignore his bodies basic needs (like meals and a shower). You’ve yet to see him cry from sorrow, but you’ve told him you would be there when he needs it. Tears during sappy moments of emotional kids’ movies, now that, you’ve seen a plenty of. Gojo is private with a select few emotions and thoughts, but was so open with such more.
After exiting the car park, he started a conversation again. “Don’t suppose you’ve thought about my offer again? I have part of my closet cleared out for you and everything. And I’m sure Shoko would enjoy having a girl to talk to for once”. You hadn’t given the offer he made a few days ago any thought yet, moving into his house that he shared with his two childhood friends, Suguru Geto and Shoko Ieiri. It was once his family home, but his parents moved to a pent house downtown to be closer to work, and let Gojo do as he pleased with it. So, he moved into the main bedroom, expanded the garage into the backyard, and has regular college parties.
“I’m… well… I still really like my dorm. Its cosy and been home for a while, you know?” you finished with a shrug and continued to look ahead. Even though you have stayed the night and been to his house many times, it was huge and being a frequent party house would make late night studies and assignments hell to try and finish. Gojo loved to try and pull you out of your shell and to loosen up and destress frequently, an extrovert adopting an introvert and all. That’s how he was though, he wanted people around him to be happy and have a good time. Even though he’s cocky and sarcastic as can be, he cared deeply. Again, something few others got to learn about him, except you did, and it’s one of the things that buried his spirit into your heart.
“Y/N, I have bathrooms bigger than you room. And after today, I…” A heavy sigh changed the atmosphere in the car, you know what he’s going to bring up again. “I just want to have you closer to keep an eye on you, make sure you’re safe and… here”. You tensed your hands a touch, trying to not clench your jaw at the thoughts to come across your mind again. “I had another interview today. I’ve told them everything, told them that those girls were just long-ago flings. I don’t want you alone”.
Flashes of news headlines, dorm and classroom meetings. Its cruel, but an honest truth to acknowledge that people go missing across the country on a regular basis. But over the past year, year and a half maybe, a steady increase of missing women from your college and a few neighbouring cities, has put people on edge. A good number of those missing women who were from your college had been Gojo’s past flings. The cops have very little to no leads to those missing women, the only connection shared, was Gojo. So, from time to time or when a local woman goes missing, he’s called into a police station and interviewed. The most recent missing case being seven days ago, and he’s been “interviewed” twice since.
You know he’s scared for your safety and frustrated with the unpleasant attention to him every time this has happened. The reminder during this ride helped make a quick decision for you. Sure, you’ve only been dating a few months, but otherwise, why not dive in and see how it goes? He did encourage you to be bolder.
Stopped at the traffic lights, you give him your answer, “Alright Toru, you win, but only because I want premium access to that glorious tub of yours”, you wiggle your fingers and exaggerate an accent for the word ‘glorious’ as you give him a smile. He looks to you with a thrilled grin, but lowers his glasses and turns into a smug look, oh no, where is that look going? “Sweetheart, you know its Gojo in the streets and Toru in the sheets. Should I take you home for a reminder?” he finishes with a wiggle of his eyebrows and dance of his shoulders, earning a laugh out of you. Turning away and covering your face as you cannot last against him when he gets such a mischievous look in his eyes. He’s won, and he’s going to annoy the shit out of you as a way to celebrate his victory. Lucky you.
But now unlucky you, Shoko has been nice to you the few times you’ve met her at a few of Gojo’s movie nights or the rare house party. She even helped you to the bathroom and held your hair at the last party you went to, as Gojo insisted you have ‘fun and let it all go’, which meant he (lovingly) teased and bullied you into so many shots and strong cocktails through the night you lost count. She made sure you made it to Gojo’s bed to pass out on and got Gojo to lock you in to keep you safe while he continued for a few more hours. But the one who would really bully you also lived under that roof. Gojo’s truly closest friend, his brother as Gojo put it, loved to remind you of your low social status in school. Looking down on your course choices and dress style. He would show off the girls he’d pull and remind you that Gojo deserves the girls he used to get in his playboy days. You did try to be nice to Geto and let his words pass, but he made it so hard to find a single nice thing about him. Acting polite and pleasant to you in Gojo’s presence even. Slimy bitch, you always thought.
It would be better overall though. You’d get to spend more time with Gojo and maybe grow closer to him. It was too early to tell but, a girl can daydream. The drive to the race location on the other side of town was quick as the conversation of planning the move too both you and Gojo’s focus that time passed before you realised you made it. A back area of an industrial area right up against the woods that turned into a national park of protected land. No one living close to make noise complaints. The arrival was always a sore part of the race night experience, Gojo found his best friend’s ride and parked up real close. They’d share their greetings while the track bunnies swooned at them from a distance, and shot daggers at you as soon as you got out of the car, and continued as you hung out next to them. Geto gave you a few verbal jabs that could be seen as friendly teasing, but you knew it was anything but that. The brunette hanging off of his arm thought his words were the funniest lines she’s ever heard. Yeah, she’s his type, easily star struck and submissive to his orders. When Gojo felt it was time for race prep, he took you by the hand to find another one of his friends. You were all too happy to leave Geto to his physical business with his new friend.
As relaxed about everything as Gojo was, there was one thing he was meticulous about, giving his ride a good look over before every race. His favourite mechanic was also a fan of the street races Gojo attended. So, in a stroke of genius, he started bringing one of his (unmarked) mobile service vans. You’ve met Choso at every race ever since you started joining Gojo out on these nights. He owned his own car repair shop in a nice end of town. Mostly servicing expensive SUVs and high-performance vehicles (like all of Gojo’s cars), but he also had a small fleet of mobile servicing vans that would focus on every day and family cars with regular servicing and emergencies. He told you once that it’s what helped keep his business alive when he took it over from his older brother. If you weren’t in the car with Gojo, you stuck with Choso and talked philosophy, or he’d gush about all the cool things his brothers were doing that made him proud. He was mostly proud of his youngest brother scoring a college scholarship through sports. You can’t remember the kid’s name, just that he’s in his second to last year of high school.
As soon as Gojo came up to the signature burgundy van, he let loose your hand to pound his flat palms hard on the van’s side like a drum as he sang Choso’s name coming up to the driver’s side from the back. A sudden voice, loud and strong came out the driver’s window along with a giant arm as hard as stone, you froze. “Hey! Don’t hit the van, kid!” the raven-haired man declared to Gojo. Wait, this isn’t Choso, this is one of his other mechanics. You’ve only seen him once or twice at Choso’s shop. The brute stepped out of the van and posed with strength in front of Gojo, arms crossed and a sneer across his scarred lips. You’d heard rumours that they guy was ex-military, or a soldier of some kind, somewhere, but that’s it. Only seen him working on other cars when Gojo brought you to the shop with him. Still, he gave off a strong energy that scared you a little. Gojo replies with a light laugh with his hands in his pockets, while you’re ready to nope your ass back to the car. Another strong voice pulls you three out of it. “Toji, I know you’re pent up, but the brat’s not worth your time. Rich bitches roll over too soon. Although, I’d love to see his girl roll over” licking his lips, Sukuna saunters over to you.
Why? Why did Gojo regularly race with and drink with this creep… Whereas you believed Geto could one day become a better person, Sukuna gave you no such feeling. Gojo was quick to stand by you and hold your waist as a way to show Sukuna that you’re His. Sukuna only harassed you because you were with Gojo, he had a habit of taking Gojo’s ‘Conquests’ and race wins. Now that Gojo is exclusive with you, all that energy is more focused onto just you. He’s built like a warrior god, he could get anyone he wants just as easy as Gojo and Geto, but no, he liked to take, ruin, and throw away. Guess that’s what kind of person you are when you’re a career MMA fighter.
With Gojo’s car given a look over by Toji, he was ready to go. Since you didn’t have Choso around to stay with, you hung to the back of the track bunnies, cheering for Gojo. A few overheard jabs from them about you being with Gojo was nothing new. They carried over such High School small-mindedness into their young adult lives, you’re amazed they somehow function in society. In between Gojo’s races would be the hardest parts of your nights out with Gojo. He likes to park to the sides and watch the other racers, and chat cars with anyone around. But the track bunnies swarmed him, and he loved the celebrity treatment. Flirting back with smiles, jokes, and their hands all over him. It used to break you and you’d sneak off and get a taxi home. Those nights would see you home to your dorms with tears in your eyes and text messages of apologises without apologises.
It took only a couple weeks for Gojo to learn real quick that he (briefly) lost you from soaking up that attention. He took you to his house for a quiet dinner together an several dozen roses to say a proper “sorry”. Now he will flirt less and push them back to get to you. Forever earning from them curses and rude remarks towards you, even right to Gojo’s face. He’d just smile and either tell them that if they don’t like seeing it, they should look away and find another man to try and leach off of. It would brighten you back up and forgive him quickly, even though the blame fully sits with them. Gojo’s strange habits on “eating” your hair and the edges of your clothing made you grateful that tonight was a smaller racing window than normal.
You would always feel eyes burning into your skin whenever you were at race nights. Comes with the territory, Gojo claims. With the reminder of the reason Gojo asked you to move in with him, tonight’s eyes felt a bit more noticeable. As if it burned your bones and not just your skin. You were just paranoid and worked up from the day. You were careful to not be out alone at night. Your worrying thoughts shaken off like a heavy blanket as Gojo drove up to you at the end of his last race.
“Hey there, cute lady, need a ride for home? Or can I offer you my first-class taxi services?” Gojo asked you with a repeated raise of his brows and a wink. Always the perv with a suggestive remark. You just rolled your eyes and climbed into the passenger seat. “Good Sir, I request to be taken to your finest late hour eatery, for I am famished!” you told him with a flourish. He gave a single laugh and joined in, “Why of course, my fair lady, I shall take you to the grrrrrrrr-eatest, most delightful, establishment these lands have to offerrrrrrr!”, he’s always so physical with his hands in moments like these, you’re surprised you haven’t been accidentally hit in the face.
A late-night fast-food run, brought back to his home for a quiet meal together, and you getting ready for bed with some toiletries you leave there for sudden sleep overs, and a few of his clothes for your PJs. You loved the smell and softness of his clothes, so you never bother with your spare night set that you have stashed in the bottom of his dresser. Gojo felt the winner when he saw you taking his clothes, to sleep in or wear out. It reassured him that you were his, and wanted to stick around. He’s never really told you this, but he fears for you leaving him. He recognised this feeling a few weeks into dating you. He didn’t grow up believing in strong and lasting bonds, but shortly before meeting you, he realised his tiredness from lonely nights of throw away girls who were too shallow for his real desires and wants. Seeing you curl up onto him with your head on his chest brings him peace and hope that he can heal and come out from things better
A CHECKERED FLAG AND BURNING IRON - Chapter One (2.1k)
~ The tale of a Final Girl and life after her starring role, oh, and Gojo’s there too. But for how long will his hand be able to hold on to Her’s when shes forever changed from who he knew, and can he keep up?
~ A Final Girl/Slasher tale, American College AU, Street Racer!Gojo X Outcast/Final Girl!Reader
~ Warnings: Horror/Slasher movie themes and subjects, PTSD, mentions of sexual activity, non-con, kidnapping, bullying, blood, fighting/physical injury
~ Author’s Declaration: The concept of Street Racer! Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, and Ryomen Sukuna are borrowed with permission from @minouyujisPOST . Also, I have never been to American college and never written horror, so, please forgive me if this is a bit “trope/movie” heavy. This is mostly me writing a love letter/write poetry to my love of horror movies and psychological elements of fiction. Yes, there is a romance plot in this… somewhere… I’m sure you’ll find it. I’m here to have fun and hope you join me on this journey, cause Spooky Season is all year round for me! (And many of the JJK characters ages are played around with to suit the story, I will try to reference their ages or School level/grade) . Slow burn for the first few chapters, please bare with me while I lay the foundations of this spooky house.
CHAPTER ONE – (word count: 2.1K)
You couldn’t stop the shaking of your limbs, your fingers ached as they gripped the foil sheet over your shoulders. Was it cold? Too hot? Your skin and what remains of your clothes are sticky and damp. Your vision blurry and sounds around both too loud and impossible to decipher. You couldn’t focus on the paramedic looking you over and trying to check your vitals and mental capability. All the faces around you twist and fade into beiges, tans, and browns. Blending into their own skins and the forest dark behind you all.
But what you could see clearly, what you could not tear you vision away from, was the part of the forest you came from. A tunnel of focus and burning inside your lungs. Still, it called back to you to return. The sharpness of adrenaline still pounding in your mind, your arms, your legs, and feet. Run. Run? Where?! It doesn’t matter! Just move! HE’s still out there! HE can see you! HE can catch you! You can’t rest! HE’s going to get you again and NEVER let you go! You know what happened to the others! Run away and…!
BANG, BANG, BANG! Shots from a gun, maybe more, echo and sing alongside the strong and fierce barks of dogs, shouting from men you can’t make out. All bringing you back down to a single point. Here, sitting in the back of an ambulance, you didn’t even notice being brought into the all too bright and white cage. The bed beneath you soft as the paramedic lays a hand ever so gently on your shoulder to encourage you back down into the bed. Eyes wide on their hand, but you followed. Still unsure of where you are and what is happening you let your body win. Burning muscles and aching bones crying out for rest, for stillness, for comfort. As you look up above you, tears you though you could no longer cry flow through. “It’s all over now, Kid, you’re okay” is the only thing you finally recognize before your mind gives into the demands of your body. You cry and gasp for air. You don’t know when you had fallen to slumber, but it wasn’t a slumber of your own. It was cold and bitter on your tongue, but you had to let it answer to the call of your body. You were no longer in HIS grasp. It’s safe now. It’s okay now. You’re safe now. You can go home now…
- Two Weeks Earlier -
Your eyes burned and begged for the sweet relief of moisture, your back and rear begged for anything but this seated position in the old thin chair, and your brain begged for death. If this assignment wasn’t going to be the death of you, you’d be surprised and by a lottery ticket. It’s May of your second year of college, you’ve recently turned 20, and there isn’t much of this semester left to go. But three more assignments stand in your way, including this one… If you have to look at one more damned article about how a Human Resources department works (or doesn’t work?), you’re going to go insane. You’ve written more today than you expected to, you had a short class earlier that day about Marketing in the digital age, and nothing social planned for the daytime.
So, you opened your window, put on a lo-fi playlist for studying (You know the one, dear Reader), and forgot about your cup of tea hours ago. At least your sugary iced coffee wasn’t forgotten and it watched you work so hard on your assignment, from its corner on the desk. Second hand, scratches and chipped clear coat. You always kept saying you would sand it and recoat it, promised it even, as this desk has become your solo dorm room’s staple resident (along with your bed, of course). For study, gaming, drawing, crying, dining, painting, make-up application on rare occasions, and a piece of home. Your family home was an hour’s drive away, just far enough from the college city of your state to be safe from too many stressed out, hormone fueled, caffeine addicted young “adults”. But it was still a big enough city to have plenty of opportunity for you, if you chose to settle there one day.
But you had a goal with your childhood friend, Kokichi Muta (You knew his nickname and gamertag most: Mechamaru). He was a tech prodigy, with dreams to join the likes of Steve Jobs, Bill Gates, and Elon Musk. He craved discovery and development, and he was damn good at it. But such things take time and money. So, with extensive research over the past couple of years from his tech internship right out of High School, he decided the best steps to build up, would be to grow within a successful company, and then start his own cyber security business. This would, hopefully, lay the foundation for a bigger business that would allow him to then grow and pay for what he really craved, research and development of the next big tech break throughs.
You two had always been the odd ones out, which is why you stuck together. You’d seen him grow and build the most amazing things. The two of you working together to win robotics competitions, with him designing and building, and you offering odd points of view that lead him to great inspirations. Which is why he let you do the talking, promoting, scouting for said competitions and contests, and what colours to decorate his creations with. Even though he always hated your design choices. Your argument was to help stand out and adding to the performance. Maybe that’s why your contact name (and emoji) in all his gear is “Clown”. All with love of course. The recognition and success in your team up lead to you both receiving scholarships. Him more than you. So far, he had yet to claim his prize. Stating his impatience for such “useless, wasted time”. He dove in head first, while you weren’t sure where to go. You took up a good job at an electronics retailer for a few years to find yourself out a little. When Kokichi finally had a dream and plans, and asked you to once again be his voice and right-hand man, you got right into it.
You knew learning Business Administration would not suit your style, but it was a goal when you didn’t have one. And your parents agreed that if Kokichi didn’t quite make it like you two were planning, it was a financially wise career path. Ew. But it made them happy so they would support you and Kokichi promised he’d let you dress however you wanted, and would build you up to have minions to dress proper and do your dark bidding for you, unless there was an important business meeting with normal (read: boring, old, rude) business men that you would have to attend. All this came back to your mind as you were leaning back in your chair and looking at the photo on the wall of you two from one of your high school science fair wins.
A startling chime to your left brought you back down from the clouds and back into that old worn chair. Its contact name of “Dumbass #1” brought a frown to your mouth.
“What do you want, asshole?” you asked to your room. You didn’t want to read the text, but your Mom was always a “It could be important” kind of person and it rubbed off on you.
‘Asshole #1: Hey, ding-dong, try to look nice for once tonight’
You still don’t know how Suguru Geto got your number, you boyfriend swears it wasn’t him, said he wanted you all to himself. For someone who has declared his apparent ‘love’ for you, Satoru Gojo was blind to the way his friends talked to you. Then again, you’ve always hesitated to show him the text messages, fearful it might make you look like a nagging and whiney girlfriend. Hell, it blows your mind how you two are even together.
Satoru Gojo, Junior year of Business Management, courses designed for future CEOs. His family came from old money in finance and big bank business and he was expected to follow the family tradition. He only agreed to finally go to college and follow his Father’s expectations when he was threatened to be cut off. Only a couple of years older than you, but quite the handful of a man child. How he passed with his lack of focus to his education and focus on his number one hobby, you’ll never know.
Ah yes, His first love, cars. Fast cars. Street racing kept him sane and was his only spiritual calling. His garage was filled with five high end machines. Lovingly cared for and somehow, never taken of caught by the cops. You know he’s doing shady shit to keep out of trouble, while also committing trouble. Not a circus you want to get involved in, he can have that to himself.
You’re not sure why he took notice of you late last year, or why he pursued you. You kept to yourself and a select few, didn’t stand out too much, kept tidy, didn’t both much with too many parties or got involved in gossip. You were polite and kind to your class mates, and no one particularly disliked you. You were a bit of a background/filler character. And that suited you, helped keep you focused and relaxed, stress causes early wrinkles and high blood pressure. You’d rather keep those things for your 40’s. Maybe that’s why he took interest. He claims you’re pretty, calm, and keep up with his humour and childish ways. Things he liked about you. But he also uses you to fuel his need for affection and attention too. Stern and cold upbringing and all. So far, you’re the longest relationship he’s ever had. You rejected his advances and requests for a date three times before you gave him a shot. You knew he was a playboy before meeting him. A few classmates would swoon between classes if they passed him, and sing his praises from time to time. Usual popular King of school things you did not want to mess with.
Mind you, he’ll still flirt and ogle at women, and quietly at some men, even when you’re with him. He’ll turn to you like its nothing and demand your focus. You hated it at first, but now it’s just like a mild burn to your pride and self-confidence. From time to time, behind closed doors, he’ll apologise lightly. But it’s better than when you first met him. Early on you were shy to voice your concerns, but you too got better with putting your foot down. In public, he’ll keep his hand on your back, or waist, or in your hand. He’s given quite a bit of lip to those who have tried to get your attention when you’re out. But that little bit of possessiveness helps reassure yourself that he really does only want you. And here you are, after sorting out a light dinner for yourself you returned to your dorm to get ready for a long night out. You had early classes the next day and wanted to sleep, but Gojo was racing tonight and would frequently drag you with him. Dressing up like Gojo’s usual (previous) type of girl was not your thing. Clubbing girls and racing groupies are not your kind of friends or circles.
You’d at least wear a pair of short black heals, and that slimming biker style jacket Gojo bought you the other month. Gave yourself a bit of a Sandy from ‘Grease’ vibes… Oh gawd, you just realised how close you and Gojo are to Danny and Sandy from ‘Grease’. You don’t know if you should laugh or cry in embarrassment. Another chime from your phone, followed by two more in rapid succession, you know only two people who text in fast short bursts.
‘The Boi: Pumpkin! My Sweetheart!!! : D’
‘The Boi: Your shining Prince arrives soon for his fair maiden!!’
‘The Boi: I missed you and I expect kisses TODAY WAS TOO HARD! I HATE NUMBERS’
‘The Boi: Pumpkin? Where are my replies of your never-ending love for me?’
‘You: You better not text and drive, idiot. You can get your attention when you show up <3 I did miss you too’
Another night of racing is going to be killer on your stomach and nervous system, but it was something special he didn’t share with many others. He may have had quite a few women in his car before you, but you’ve been in ALL of his cars and even have driven a few. A light amount of make-up to compliment your eyes, and a deep breath to brace yourself for the bullshit of Gojo’s jealous fan-girls and rude ‘Friends’. Another night in your slice of college life
A CHECKERED FLAG AND BURNING IRON – Chapter 6 (2.4k)
~ The tale of a Final Girl and life after her starring role, oh, and Gojo’s there too. But for how long will his hand be able to hold on to Her’s when she’s forever changed from who he knew, and can he keep up?
~ A Final Girl/Slasher tale, College AU, Street Racer!Gojo X Outcast/Final Girl!Reader, slow burn
~ Warnings: Minors DNI, Horror/Slasher movie themes and subjects, PTSD, mentions of sexual activity, non-con, kidnapping, bullying, blood, fighting/physical injury
You awaken to your dim enclosure. Stiff and sore from the previous night’s beating and your poor sleeping position. You try to slowly and carefully stretch yourself out. You and still move your legs fine, pulling up your pants reveals just a large and dark bruise from where your shin was kicked. You’re glad you can’t really see your sides, but you can sure as hell feel them throbbing with every breath and movement of your body. You left hand wrist is in back shape, but you don’t think it’s enough to be broken. This day is spent a much like the day before. But you’re able to calm yourself a little more. Most likely to your acceptance to your capture. You mull over Toji’s words from the night before and revisit what you’ve learned. He’s a hunter who’s bored of hunting animals and has turned to kidnapping and torturing girls. His main reason for catching you is for being Satoru’s girlfriend. But why would that really have much to do with anything? Because he believes Satoru to be important? He thinks you’ll be something more for him to hunt. Could he be one of those sick-o’s who will torture you, then set you loose in the woods before he takes you out?
As the day comes to light the room and warm it up, the smell of the bag of wet dog food sickens you. You at least finally remember the bottle of water Toji tossed you when you first woke up. Wait, its blurry but you start to remember a little bit. Enough to know that you live with Satoru now. You were at his house when you were taken. How far away were you now? How far were you from help? You tried screaming out a few times but quickly gave up. Toji doesn’t want you found, so why would you be anywhere near help who could hear you? He’s a hunter, right? You’ll be far into the woods and only scare off what few wildlife would be around. Your stomach growling isn’t enough to bring you to eat. But the part of your mind that has you thinking about Toji, about studying the room, thinking about living tells you to still eat the food. You’re starting to think you’re going crazy already. You’re chained to the damn wall and in hand cuffs. How the hell would you get out of here? You’ve been kidnapped and you’re going to die while being beaten by a nut case.
You head starts spinning and aching. You finish off the bottle of water and kick the bag of dog food away from you, as if it will get the smell away enough for it to stop filling your nose. You lay down on the ground, facing the chair and focusing on all the little details of it as a way to pass the time and to try and calm your mind. Another pointless task. Every once in a while, you remind yourself that it’s all stupid, to try and hope and look for freedom when you know you’re going to perish here. The pile of dirt and leaves in the corner of the floor behind the chair draws your eye next. As you come in and out of sleep, the afternoon sun tilts through the window just enough to angle the light. You see there’s a shimmer from the corner of something in the pile. You can’t see much of it, but give up on caring. You’re going to die like this, right? What does it matter.
Toji arrives that evening, his thudding boots wake you but you don’t bother to move. As you look up to him, you see another wet bag in his hand. He doesn’t seem pleased with the scene of you laying still and the previous bag far from you. He approaches with a sigh. “Oh, again with a lack of greeting for your master? You must really be a loyal dog to be so sad like that!” a quick kick to your gut brings you back to your mind. As if you’d been floating and only witnessing it all through a hazy lens. No, YOU are the one here. That’s the taste of iron and acid in your mouth as you try to breath and cough. The kick wasn’t as strong as the ones to your ribs last night, but it still hurts.
He drops the new bag in front of your face and tosses the previous one out the small window. He paces around you as you still try to steady yourself from the pain in your stomach. If you had eaten last night, you surely would have lost it now. You can only heave a little bit of bile. “Looks like the Gojo bitch has been spoiled too! I get you the good stuff and you turn your nose at it? Tsk. Well fine. Tonight, I’m spoiling you with something a bit fresher!” He leans against the wall under the window, nodding his head and gesturing his hand to the bag. You behave and use what little strength of mind you have to open it. Another bottle of water, and a chunk of raw, red meat. Its lean, but with long lines. You’re not sure its beef, but are too stunned to move again. It smells of iron, but not much of anything else. It’s a step up from the dog food at least.
Toji must have been annoyed by your lack of movement, as he takes a long stride over to you. He grabs under your jar with a single hand and pulls you up a bit. You make small sounds of discomfort and shock. His other hand grabs the piece of meat and shoves it into your mouth. It doesn’t make its way far into your mouth, but it’s enough to gag you a bit and silence you. He’s making a point. “You should be grateful to your master, stupid bitch!” he slaps your face twice while keeping your jaw gripped tight. Your sounds muffled but tears you can’t hold back make their way out. He throws your face to the ground and pushes his heal to the side of your face. He’s barely applying pressure, but he wants to keep you still. “What do you say to master? Ha? What do you say?!” he shouts at you. You close your eyes and cry. Muffling out a few words out of fear, which turns to sobbing. He hasn’t hit you as hard as before, but his energy and anger in his voice terrifies you. He steps away with a grunt, leaving you crying on the floor with the meat in your mouth.
“You better start learning some manners, mutt. Or I won’t be so nice next time.” He’s grabbing something from outside the door. You’re sobbing still and are shocked when you feel something hard hit your legs. You open your eyes to see another bottle of water. He stares at you a little more before his parting words regain your focus. “Enjoy your dinner now, you’re not getting any tomorrow, bitch”. He slams the door and rushes up the stairs. His mood tonight was different. There was hurry in him, and more aggression in his eyes. You pull the meat out of your mouth when you hear the door upstairs slam shut. Still crying and in shock, you place it on the bag and cry again. You’re unable to sleep, and are so hungry. You give into that part of your mind that takes over. This weak but fighting part of your mind that believes in you living though this somehow. It takes over and eats the raw meat. It’s some kind of game meat, very lean and a thick chunk. A piece of deer, maybe? It’s not pork, or beef, thank god. You remember that one of Shoko’s gross “facts” was that human meat would be akin to pork and veal. This was game meat, so you were sure Toji wasn’t trying to turn you feral with human flesh. But at this point though, you wouldn’t put it past him.
You stayed up late that night, slowly drinking water and sitting upright and still as to not agitate your wounds. As you found yourself zoning out to the grain pattern of the door, you slowly felt your mind shift into something new before sleep took you. You can’t go out like this, surely you can’t allow it, right?
…
The dawn of the new day greats your tired eyes and weary bones again. You don’t move much or think much for most of the day either. You just let yourself half nap until the early afternoon. You decide to stretch a bit by slowly standing up, your legs are stiff and wood. You let your body move itself through warm up exercises. Well, as much as you can manage. You put the pointless idea of stretching down to finally losing your mind, but also, trying desperately to hold on to hope. Closing your eyes and thinking of being at home, first with Satoru, then back to your teenage years at home with your parents. Your Dad loved martial arts and being active. He’d wake you up early and insist on a stretch and teaching you some self-defence. You huff at the memories, a lot of good that would do you now. You still kept up with being a bit active and practicing what your Dad taught you through college. The physical activity, even if just a bit at the end of the day helped you sleep and kept you healthy. What a strange thing to reflect back on.
As you sat back down on the floor, the chain from the collar dug into you back and a bit under you. You carefully adjusted yourself and brought it to the front of you. As you brought it through your hands, the feeling and touch comforting you, you stop your thumb over a rough patch on the inside of one of the links. It’s in enough position for you to look at it better. Turning the link over, you see something that stirs hope in the small part of you that’s been fighting to surface through the despair of your heart and mind. Your eyes see the inside of the link more worn and rusted than the other parts The thinned-out metal also is on the side of the chain where you can see the join. The part where the metal stick’s ends were brought together into a bend to link it all. It’s scratched on the inside. Someone, or many even, before you have seen this too, and tried to ware it down more. Something feint in the back of your heart flickered like a wake flame of a candle.
You gave it a tug, but nothing budged and you didn’t see the link move or bend at all. Pointless really, you’re going to die down here, remember? You could at least rely on Toji to be honest with you, tonight he didn’t come. At some point in the night, your tug-of-war heart brought you to a weak sleep again.
…
The dim light of sunrise and sound of birds brought you back from sleep again. Your body dare not move as your soreness and weakness was all too heavy. You simply closed your eyes again and tried to settle back down. Anything was useless and nothing mattered anymore. A few hours into the morning had you shake slightly before drifting off to sleep. The caw of a few crows at the basement window, and sound of feint thunder a fitting addition to your final days. You could almost enjoy the poetry of it, if it weren’t so hard to think. You gave up on thinking at this point. Allowing yourself to shelter your breaking mind you the back of your soul. You slowly sat up and simply stared at the crows picking at the discarded dog food. You weren’t sure what was happening in your mind, or if you were even thinking at this point. But, after what felt like hours of watching the crows bicker and feed, they flew off as a high crack of thunder shook even you. The sky had greyed and droplets slowly gained a rhythm on the roof and against the side of the building above you. It was a little while after, with the strike of lightning near enough to you, lighting up the room and the thunder shaking everything in a rattle that something in you had awakened.
This is NOT your coffin. This is not where Toji adds another notch to his belt. This is not where you want to be. YOU ARE NOT DYING HERE.
You make your way to your feet, facing the wall that your chain attaches to. You find the weak link, and focus your mind on it. The chain is a touch too long for you to use a leg standing up for leverage. So, you take a risk. You walk your legs up the wall and lean back. The burning in your ribs is distracting you, but you have to push on. The angle of the chain and your legs has you awkwardly floating off the ground. The collar cuts into your neck enough to shoot pain through your tired and beaten body. Your legs fall at a weird angle that shoots a spark of pain through them. Just enough to stun you a little. You’re determined to try again. This time, you roll up your shirt enough to stuff it mostly behind your neck and a bit in the front. You raise your feet to the wall again and push. You wrap your hands as best you can just in front of you and the weak link.
When your muscles, joints, and sprained wrist burn too much from the stress, you lower your legs back down and collapse. Pulling your shirt back down slowly and as much as you can, you still and try to steady your breathing. Your heart is racing and your body a flame. You will yourself to look at the chain and its weak link. A smile makes its way across your face subconsciously, the weak link has split open slightly. Not enough for the links to come through, but it is an amazing next step of progress. You are going to get yourself out of here.
A CHECKERED FLAG AND BURNING IRON – Chapter 5 (2.5k)
~ The tale of a Final Girl and life after her starring role, oh, and Gojo’s there too. But for how long will his hand be able to hold on to Her’s when she’s forever changed from who he knew, and can he keep up?
~ A Final Girl/Slasher tale, College AU, Street Racer!Gojo X Outcast/Final Girl!Reader, slow burn
~ Warnings: Minors DNI, Horror/Slasher movie themes and subjects, PTSD, mentions of sexual activity, non-con, kidnapping, bullying, blood, fighting/physical injury
“Hello, Sweetheart…” he hummed to you. Your vision still blurred, and a shadow covered the face of the man before you. A bare bulb hanging behind him from the ceiling in the small concrete room. You blinked rapidly as your spirit and focus slowly came to you just enough to recognise him. Short but messy hair dark as the night sky, almond shaped eyes like that of an apex cat, green with a darkness behind them as if looking up in a thick forest canopy, chapped lips with a small scar covering the right of them… His hand firmly grabs your chin up to get a better look at you. The faint smell of motor grease shocks your mind to his name. You’ve only seen him a handful of times, but that gaze is one that’s always unnerved you. Toji. That’s the only word in your fogged mind. The stress, fear, and uncertainty clouding anything else. Your silence and fearful stare lingers too long for the imposing man. “Oi, oi, hey? don’t be goin’ shy on me now!” His grip on your chin loosens at the same time that his other open hand meets your cheek.
You can’t help the gasp that leaves your lungs at the sharp movement, and the stinging of your face wakes you up to become fully aware of yourself. A collar just loose enough to breathe around your neck, handcuffs around your wrists, feet left unbound but weak on the floor in front of you, but on either side of the captor crouched in front of you. He has you upright, sitting on the floor with your back against the wall. But your eyes quickly make their way back to his face as he huffs. A pout on his face turns back into that eerie smirk on his face. “There she is!” he stands and holds his hands out. A proud position over his prey. Trying to find he words but still struck with fear, she stutters. “Wha…? Where am…? You…”. His hands drop and a fake but teasing pout returns to his scarred lips. “Aw, sweetheart, don’t be so nervous, and after I took such good care of you”.
He steps away to a chair in the corner for a bottle of water and rolls it to you. You’re still stunned and staring blankly at him as the bottle makes its way between your legs. You don’t really notice it, but finally the fog clears just enough for you to speak. It comes out in a dry pitch, “Where am I? What do you want with me?!” He chuckles as he sits and observes you. You don’t resist the shaking fear in your upper body, nor the tears that form at the edges of your eyes. He leans forward, holding up his hand that rests on his leg, as his other arm hangs loose. He just stares for a few moments, taking you in. That smirk on his face starts to unsettle you more and more, twisting your stomach into a knot. The light has slowly been increasing, but all you could focus on is how the angle of this new light makes his eyes take on a new brightness. To your fear and adrenaline riddled mind it makes his eyes look demonic. A glowing green rising from his wicked soul that you’re sure will drag you down into his hell.
He suddenly rises with a push onto his upper legs and a dramatic grunt. Sauntering a few steps over to you with so much to say. He wants to tell you so much, but he picks only a few vague words for now. “You don’t need to worry about that right now, sweetheart. I’ve got to leave for work now, but I’ll be back before you know it. You slept in a bit more than I was hoping for. Have a good day, sweetheart, I’ll be home for dinner!” He turns and leaves your stunned form behind, its only with the soft sound of a second door closing in the space above you that you’re brought a bit back to your senses. You’ve been kidnapped. Holy shit, you’ve been kidnapped. From where? Where were you last? You’re in thin lounge pants, no bra, no shoes, a big shirt, wait, it’s one of Satoru’s shirts. You can still smell him from it. Wait, where did you see him last? You frantically try to recall what you last remember before being taken. But you’re met with flashes of everything else before the night it happened. Even the events of that day are blurred and out of your mind’s reach.
All you can recall is Satoru’s laugh as he pats your head. When was that? Just before you woke up here? You don’t know when it was, but you now notice more of the room around you. A bare bulb that’s turned off, hanging from the ceiling near the door across from you. The door is a few meters away from you. The floor is rough concrete covered in dirt, sand, random twigs and leaf litter. The walls are concrete too. There is a chair in the corner to your left, close to the door. On your right, you see light coming in. A narrow window missing glass at the top of the wall. You’re in a basement. The only window just reaches above the grass. Weeds along the outside of the window are slowly growing into your concrete cage. The window is far too narrow for you to fit through if you tried to crawl out. You slowly notice the brown edges of the broken glass around the window. It trails slightly down the wall too. Your eyes then pull to the brownish stains on the floor. You don’t allow yourself to think about what it is. But you have a firm idea that claws at the shut door of that thought, trying to surface
It takes you what seems like a couple of hours to realize all of this. There is the gentle sound of wind and occasional birds outside that contrast the hell surrounding you. The realization brings you back out of your calm study of the room, and into crushing anxiety. You breathing becomes heavy and loud. Your arms and legs shake. You let your tears fill your eyes.
You pull at the collar around your neck, leaning forward to try and move away. You only crawl a short way before you feel it jerk you back and choke you. There’s a dulled and well used chain connecting you to a ring in the wall. This isn’t normal. This isn’t something that would be in a basement. It was made with a purpose. The padlock that holds the chain to your collar shakes and rattles. Your hands find the lock and feel how it keeps the metal collar latched shut while also holding you to the chain. You try to huff out a distressing cry, but your voice is strained from stress and hopelessness. You thrash and cry until you are weak and curled up into yourself. You finally return to a bit of mental clarity when the sun slowly makes its way lower into the sky, slowly darkening your room. You’ve been kidnapped by someone who isn’t doing this for the first time. The stains on the floor are various shades of dark red, burgundy, and brown. You’re not the first person here. You realize the person before you was here not too long ago. This is where the missing girls were taken to. This is how you joined their ranks. This is what you’ll last see. This is how you die.
…
The room is dim when you wake up by the sound of a slamming door above you. You rub your face and realize you had fallen asleep from the stress. The stress returns to wake you up quickly. That’s right, you’ve been kidnapped by Toji. One of the mechanics who works for Choso. You hear his boots thug along stairs, you will yourself upright as he opens the door. He greets you with a smug look and a brown paper bag. You see the bottom damp and slightly dripping. He tosses it next to the chair while he makes his way down onto it. You watch him move, even though you know there isn’t much you can do. Your muscles are stiff with anticipation and breath sharp with how little you can take in. He sighs as he regards you, “Ah sweetheart, you make such a cute little lap dog. But trust me, that brave face you’re putting on trying to look touch isn’t fooling anybody.”
You try to steady your breath and sit firm. He’s silent and puts on a neutral face as he approaches you. As you glare up at him, you’re suddenly jerked to the side with a very harsh pain in the side of your ribs. You cough and clutch your side, but aren’t given much time to recover before he pulls you up by the chain near your collar. “What? Don’t know how to greet your master when he comes home, little bitch? You do it so well for your spoiled pooch”. A slap to the face brings a cry from your lungs. Your hands come up to grip his, attempting to pull yourself up to breathe again. You stare him straight in the eyes with what little anger can make it past the fear filling your heart. “Fuck you…” you say with a rushed breath. He smirks and let’s go of the collar. You crumple to the ground with a cough as he continues. “There she is! Every one of you comes back after some time peace and quiet. The bunnies always keep crying and squealing though, I knew a dog would be better behaved” Another swift kick to your other side. He lets you cough and find your breath this time. For some reason, your mind has pointless questions for the man.
“You… you’re the one who’s been taking girls?” A clap of his hands rings though the room. “And there’s the question everyone asks after ‘please don’t hurt me!’.” he mocks. He brings himself closer to your face. “Is that what you’re going to say next? Please don’t. They all ask the same couple of questions and it gets so boring” He rises and wipes his hands over his face in half-assed displeasure. “I have hopes for you, ya know? To be a bit better than the others. Sure, they’re gorgeous little things… But their heads are empty. Too easy to push around and make my little toys. Not much for a hunt once I do let them loose. No drive, no passion, not much fight in them”. You find your spark to get answers. Not that it will matter much, he’s going to kill you. “…Have… You have hopes I’ll be what…?” You still can’t breathe right, or find much of your mind to think much. But if he’s talking, he might not hit you again just yet. He turns to you with a fake pout and points his index finger at you. “You, sweetheart, have something special about you. Not sure what really, but you tamed a useless spoiled mutt into a loyal dog… Yeah, that Gojo brat seems to like you a lot. Come on, tell me~ What is it about you that drew you in?! You have to be something special for that playboy to keep you around” He starts pacing the room with a hand on his chin, a sway to his hips that conveys his relaxed state of mind. “He’s pulled and thrown around the best-looking gals around, you’re not much compared to them. But I will say, the feel of you is quite nice”
“You’re not much for chasing popularity or trying to beg off the crumbs of those rich brats, no. You’re more down to earth, more regular than that. You keep yourself out of trouble like a good little house pet. A loyal little bitch to the Gojo brat any time he wants your attention” His last few words hold a higher volume and a sinister drawl that has you already flinching for the next hit. It comes with him kicking your shin and bringing a foot down onto the wrist of your left arm. You huff out a whimper at the pain. With it coming from two directions on your body, you can’t tell if your wrist is broken or sprained. He backs away a little to watch you react. You hold your wrist to your chest and pull your harmed leg back into you and glare at him. Bracing your mind for another attack, trying to learn his tells. You both stare at each other for a brief moment that feels longer than it was.
“I wonder, little dog, what kind of hunt you’ll give me…” As he turns his back to you, focused on the bag near the chair, you try to will yourself to ask another question without fear in your voice. It doesn’t quite sound confident, but you’re trying to be strong in what will be your final hours or days, “What do you want me for? What are you talking about? a ‘hunt’?”. He tosses the bag to you and replies with a flat look across his face.
“Everyone reaches a point in which they break. A point in which they either give up and let the predator take them. A point when they play dead, hoping it does something. A point where they submit and do anything for me. Or, if I’m lucky, a point where they let themselves show me a feral dog who fights back!” his rise in volume and tone has you shrink back a bit again. You brace yourself. He sighs, lowers his puffed-up chest and shoulders, and speaks softer. “I am… a hunter. A predator who thrives for the ultimate chase. But soft prey of bunnies and does aren’t enough. I’m hopping a loyal little dog like you will be something more for me…” He grins at you again. You’re digesting his words as he makes his way to leave the room, giving you one last piece of his thoughts.
“I’m looking forward to you giving me something more, sweetheart. Now eat your dinner and wait for me like a good bitch”. The door in front of you closes with an echo around the room. As you focus on his heavy steps up the stairs, you start to notice the smell from the bag. Slowly pulling it to you and opening it with one hand, you discover it to be, what you can assume, is wet dog food. The smell has you pull back as your stomach does flips. Normally such a smell would be one you could tolerate, but with the hits you have taken and the adrenaline in you, its repulsive. You lean your back to the wall and bring your knees up to quietly cry into your chest. You’re going to die here like this.
A CHECKERED FLAG AND BURNING IRON – Chapter Four (2.4k)
~ The tale of a Final Girl and life after her starring role, oh, and Gojo’s there too. But for how long will his hand be able to hold on to Her’s when she’s forever changed from who he knew, and can he keep up?
~ A Final Girl/Slasher tale, College AU, Street Racer!Gojo X Outcast/Final Girl!Reader, slow burn
~ Warnings: Minors DNI, Horror/Slasher movie themes and subjects, PTSD, mentions of sexual activity, non-con, kidnapping, bullying, blood, fighting/physical injury
~ Author’s Declaration: The concept of Street Racer! Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, and Ryomen Sukuna are borrowed with permission from Minouyujis (POST)
Chapter Four (word count: 2,455)
Despite the long night of trying to study and trying to sleep, identifying those that were partying late into the night at Gojo’s Sunday night house party was a fun Monday morning game for you. The smell of coffee and energy drinks abundant, dark circles and make-up to cover them, shuffling feet, low hums and grunts as responses to questions and conversations. These are regular sites at any college or university across the nation. But those after a house party have a different energy to them. Your boyfriend was no exception, but he’ll sleep till noon and can act quite well, that he’s unaffected until he is actually recovered the next day. You often teased Gojo that he should get into an acting group or club of some kind. If it was just the two of you around, he would make a dark joke about how he got good by learning to fool his parents. ‘Over bearing and strict parents raise good liars’, he’d say. You’d still leave a glass of water and a snack on the night stand before you left in the morning.
Lunch with Haibara and Nanami was just the boost to your spirit you needed to soldier on through your own tiredness. Gojo’s afternoon would see him finish an hour after you did, so you made your way to the library to finish off an essay that was due soon. Despite the ambient sounds of clicking keys, page turning, and pens and pencils onto paper, occasional words from hushed conversations still added to your spirit draining again. It would rise a low burn to the back of your head and neck, reminding you what Gojo tried to ease everyone from the night before. Still a missing young woman from your campus. Headphones with something instrumental to keep you on track only lasted so long. Returning home with Gojo, you could see the through work of the cleaners he hired. The two of you spread the take-out you collected onto the large dining table, thus summoning your two roommates. Shoko’s comments of what she learned about damaging the human body with minimal effort, Geto and Gojo’s occasional disgust or childish way of turning such facts sexual, turning to the talk of cars and anything BUT business studies. At least you and Shoko would have a fun time with anatomy and theory discussions when the boys got their own little world.
Not one to slow himself down, Gojo had a race night on new ground in a far side of town. The challenge picked him up, while Geto would decline. An overdue essay was going to cause a fair bit of damage if he couldn’t buckle down on it, and he’d try to get started on the next one to avoid another risk. His parents worked hard to help him get into a student loan, and helped to keep him going. The guilt of letting them down wouldn’t be something he could live with. At least you know he loves his parents and is kind to them. Maybe that’s why he gave you shit all the time; the jealousy of you getting a scholarship and he probably only had so much energy for being genuine for a select few. Gojo would take Shoko to her girlfriend’s place on his way out while you stayed in.
“I’ve got one last assignment left and then its smooth sailing for a few weeks, it’s fun watching others panicking over their procrastination. I like walking by and waving as I leave” you tell Gojo as he heads to the door. Shoko chimes in before Gojo can open his mouth, “That’s a funny way of saying you’ll be up late on your phone”. You two didn’t spend that much time together, but she’s a good friend who knew you too well. “No, I won’t. Told myself I’d finish… I can do this… I hope”, you reply with a comical face and hand flourish. “Aw, Pumpkin, you know fibbing will only make you look bad. Don’t tell me my good girl is a delinquent like me? I’m so proud of her” Gojo says with a show of ruffling your hair. With a shared kiss between you, Gojo loudly calls out into the house for his best friend, “Suguru~! Don’t die writing up there and protect my little Cupcake~!”
You doubted he could hear it, and even if he could through his headphones he’s surely wearing, he’d just tell Gojo to not die in a car fire or he’d be pissed. Leaving you to sneak to the kitchen for dessert. You got a hold of an ice cream bar from the back of the freezer. Enjoying the quiet of the house as you leaned over the counter top to eat. You didn’t intend to stay there to enjoy your treat, but it’s just where you landed while you took in the small details of the area around you. The white, black and brown of the spacious kitchen, the dark stillness of the soft living room over the breakfast bar, tall intimidating windows with curtains partial closed line the wall leading to the front entry way. You walked across and finished closing the curtains. Returning to the kitchen to tidy up what remained of that night’s dinner’s left overs and your own treat’s waste, you realized the cleaners didn’t empty the under-cabinet rubbish bins. Both trash and recycle were full and the smells that came across ruined your moment of peace in the quiet home with a sharp pain that traveled slowly though your lungs no matter how much you breathed deeply away from the kitchen. Those unique blend of unpleasant kind of smells that stick and linger in your nose for a while.
That’s it, you couldn’t take it, you tied up the bag for the general trash and pulled out the bucket for recycling. The outside containers were just on the driveway side of the house, you could cut through the garage. You grabbed a pair of Gojo’s sandals near the door to the garage, passed by one of Gojo’s cars and then one of Geto’s, and opened the side exit door. You didn’t bother with the side lights as the bins were just a few steps up from you. The clatter of the bottles and cans was sharper on your ears than you had hoped it would be. The clattering sounds of glass bouncing off the wall, fence, and part of the neighbor’s exterior wall. You flinched a little as the last of it settled down into the larger collection bin. A bit of fresh air feeling good and clearing of the previous assault to your peace (and senses). Grabbing the bucket off the ground after tossing the general trash into the next bin, you walked back to the door and…
A sudden and shocking pull, a dark and rough vision taking away your sight, and a tightness at your upper body had you suddenly more alert than you could think at. A strong arm as solid as an old oak tree was as sudden around your neck as was the covering over your eyes? Whole head? You couldn’t tell anyways. You thrashed your legs as hard as you could to break free, but you could quickly feel your focus and strength drain away. Your breath could not be reclaimed, the beast who caught his prey has sunk his fangs deep into you and snuffed out the fire your panic had lit in your bones. A last attempt to kick his groin had you miss and make contact with his upper leg with the pitiful last of your strength. The warmth of your muscles drained way by this monster of a form who stole away your soul’s fire, leaving you cold and motionless within the longest minute you have ever felt.
You went limp in his arms but he would not be leaving anything to chance right now. A little bit longer around your neck to be sure you weren’t acting. His gloved hand that held you close around your lower stomach loosened just enough to snake its way up your chest and over your heart. While still using that arm to pin you against him, his hand made direct contact with your skin to learn you for the first time. Ducking itself under the bottom of your shirt. Slowly feeling the softness of your stomach, full from dinner and that ice cream he saw you enjoy in the kitchen. Prey that’s full of a meal is slower to think and react, so much of the body’s focus on it lulling you softly into a gentle state. Curving up be felt the fabric that cupped your left chest. He loosened his grip slightly on your neck, while still using the position to hold you up in the dark.
He could have a moment more to meet you here and now. Feeling the skin at the top of your left breast giving him a direct sensation of your slowed heart and breath. Slow and steady without a twitch in the skin to the cold of his hands. Just the state he aimed for, and had perfected on small prey such as you. His hand rocked back and forth over the top of your chest, as he now learned the smell of your hair and rapid sweat from his entrapment of you. Clean and sweet as he hoped, as you all tended to be. With his prey secure in their slumber, he made his way to the back of the property and through the back gate. Carefully locking it back as he found it, standard padlocks such as these are child’s play for him to pick. The short grouping of trees between the back of the property and the next street being an all too perfect way to hide your introductions. As he came through the trees to a quiet and dark street, his dark car hidden from view under unpowered street lights. No light coming from the houses under construction on the other side of the street would further aid him.
He couldn’t be happier with the circumstances that would aid in his latest hunt. Early in his planning, he thought this would be too good to be true, it wouldn’t be an easy catch. His prey was illusive, cautious, close to her pack, and only scavenging the land during the day. But her pack leader and mate is a bolder one, but a foolish pup compared to a more experienced lone-wolf hunter.
Opening the back of his car, and with the pull of a cord, a secret padded compartment is reveled under the back seats. Once he is pleased with the placement of his prey, from his pocket he pulls a small syringe. He chooses his needle’s location carefully. Your lounge pants being oh so easy to roll down, giving him ample sight of your back side and thighs above the knee. He smooths his free hand up and down the side of your leg, varying the pressure at the tip of his fingers to watch as your skin rises and falls. How it springs back against the pull and push of his hand. How he would love to see how your flesh handles his patient strength, and how it will look running though the moonlight. But for now, he was running out of time. He held a part of your upper thigh steady as he gave you a small amount of his little helper. A bit of something to make sure you have a good sleep until your trip is over. With your pants rolled back up and your hands and feet tied together, he tossed his gloves into the compartment with you and shut the seat back closed. Tonight, would be a very good night drive home for him.
…
You awoke to a ringing in your ears, darkness still held your vision, while your back and legs felt sore and cold hardness around you. Your arms stiff as you tried to move them. You willed yourself to try and wake up more, but a wall in your mind stopped you in your tracks, too tall to climb just yet. You turned your head slowly around as if it would do some good. You couldn’t think through the cloud, you moved like a puppeteer’s untrained hand. Slow and one piece at a time to try and learn your space.
Sharply and suddenly, you feel the sting of cold water over you. Suddenly sober and upright as best as you could move. A new ringing softly filled your ear at the clarity of your second awakening. This time, the ringing from above you, artificial but still your vision gave you nothing. A drop of a bucket hitting the hard floor had your head move sharply to its location. A few shuffles from worn boots and a low hum of a man’s voice, a satisfied huff at your stiffened form led him to a soft chuckle in his voice, and a few steps closer to you. You heard the grind of sand against concrete under his feel as he crouched down in front of you. You turned your head slowly to him, breath heavily deep in your lungs as you tried to reach it from the fear that pulled it down into you. You mind empty, only the emotion of things not experienced often in its place. You stilled what breath you had gained back as his hand rested on the top of your head.
“Wakey, wakey sleeping beauty” The timbre of his deep voice called to you. Something about it felt like you knew it, but at the same time, there was a new fear of something you didn’t know. A tone of darkness you had never felt in your bones from how the last syllables rolled off his tongue. It made the burning in your chest from the panic, run cold. A slow and even pull of the cloth over your head froze your lungs still. A few moments of silence over adjusting back to the artificial light that hummed above you. But what really stopped everything to a way that felt like time itself stopped, was seeing his smiling face. The face of the hunter who caught their new prized prey, one so easy but also so hard to capture. You truly then felt the nothingness of a dying soul as his eyes bore the strength of his spirit into you. You could only experience the shrinking of yourself under his gaze, the glint of his smile showing nothing but pride and satisfaction. He tilted his head and spoke in that now haunting rumble again.
Warnings : unrequited love, arranged marriage, manipulation, minor character’s death, and more to add. Read with proper discretion < 3
↳ Choices we’re bound to make in life don’t always turn out well, and you would have to learn that the hard way, maybe should you have listened to your sister when she tried to dissuade you from marrying a man that you didn’t know, as charming as he might seem.
Sooooo, yeah. I’ve been rooting for gojo for a while now and this kinda happened. Your feedbacks really help me through the whole process so please feel free to empty your mind, I’m always receptive. Also, big thank you to @tawus who has been adamant on giving the greatest pieces of advice, ily girl <3
Overall thank you for reading, and I hope you’re enjoying reading as much as I’m enjoying writing the story !!
First written in French, translated by the amazing @deadpanap
Quick rb to tell you all that you could be added to the taglist if u wanna be notified <3
↳ Choices we’re bound to make in life don’t always turn out well, and you would have to learn that the hard way, maybe should you have listened to your sister when she tried to dissuade you from marrying a man that you didn’t know, as charming as he might seem.
“You should smile a bit more, it’s supposed to be the best day of your life after all.” You spoke in a low voice, finally breaking the silence.
“Of our life,” corrected your interlocutor. “But you you’re not smiling either.”
“I’ve got a veil over my head, if you hadn’t noticed. Everyone doesn’t have your hawk eyes.”
You slowly turn towards him, scrutinising the outlines of his silhouette through the mesh of tissue separating you from the world. His eyes were riveted on the assembly in front of you, his opalescent irises visibly sensitive to the faintest visual stimulus. You couldn’t perceive all the details of his face, but you could see enough to discern the frustrated look he wore: frowned eyebrows, casting a gloomy darkness over his eyes. You could also guess, through the contrast of colors, the line formed by his pursed lips, a downcast concave arc, only affirming the moroseness decorating his sweet thing of a face.
A sigh escapes from your mouth. This wasn’t at all how you imagined the course of things. You even came to wonder whether or not he’d get rid of you as soon as possible, relieving himself of all the responsibilities that cumbered him because of you. You could already kiss goodbye your plans of all-inclusive family protection.
It was patent, at the end of every round from the clock’s arrows, that silence was getting heavier, weighting more and more on your shoulders. You tried to lure your mind by confusing on the surrounding banalities, ears stretched towards the laughter and joyous voices of good conduct and anecdotes. Through the cacophony, you made out the sound of clanking glasses with each other, probably coming from friends that had nothing to do with the traditionalism of his clan. Thinking about it, it might have been your mannerless sister who was pouring the sake, or champagne; there was no way of knowing.
You, as well as your parents, had greatly apprehended Yuki’s behaviour during this ceremony. It a wedding as traditional as could be, with its fervent conservatives that never missed their duty in badmouthing mores and old-fashioned customs. In your misery, you could at least agree with the fact that they didn’t try to hide things from you, from the outfit worn by your in-laws on the day you’d met them, to the indecent number of tailors, florists, and seniors that had come to help you prepare for this day; but that didn’t make the greatness of things any less grand.
“Can you see anything with that on your head?” Your spouse’s voice startles you out of your thoughts. You didn’t really expect him to engage in conversation with you, not after the cold reply that he’d served you earlier.
You slowly put your left hand on the floor, tilting towards him, getting a semblance of balance. You could feel that he didn’t want to raise his voice more than this or to attract more attention towards the both of you, but this silence probably bothered him too. In fact, he was known for being a joyful person, a happy-go-merry lad who always had the right word to ease the atmosphere. Even though, believing Utahime’s words, he sometimes gave in to arrogance and disdain, playing with his “victim’s” fears and weaknesses.
You had five long years to face your responsibilities, taking the first train and breaking the wall that you’d built between the two of you by refusing to meet him; but for several reasons, you never had the courage to do so. And what you refused to admit, whether to yourself or to those who incited you to take action, was that Gojo Satoru scared you. You’d never met two persons that said the same thing about him, sometimes he was a progressive, other times a bloodthirsty manipulator. One day he had a big heart, another day he showed himself to be devoid of any trace of humanity. And you dreaded which facet he’d wear with you, he too had been forced into this, what would hold him back from hating you?
“Not really,” you whisper to him. “Just shadows.”
He then mirrored your posture by landing his hand close to yours, reducing the sparse space between you even more. Seen from afar, one could almost think of you as accomplices; head against head, confiding in each other. You were now so close that you could feel his scent teasing your nostrils, deliciously masculine and intoxicating. You could easily get used to it, to this scent on your clothes as well as on your skin.
“So why are you wearing it?” He asked.
“For tradition, I suppose.”
A silence even more awkward than before fell soundlessly between you. You felt your veil’s tissue moving from the breath he’d just let out before hearing him clearing his throat, eyes lost once again into the crowd.
“So you’re like this…” He concludes.
“You know nothing about me.” You shot back.
“That’s funny, because if you hadn’t systematically refused to meet me, I could have known you,” He paused, probably thinking that you were nothing more than a capricious brat that said things, accepted circumstances without ever embracing the consequences.
You were both under the yoke of this inquisition, neither of you was happy about ending up bound to the other, but he had done things for you. When Yuki solicited him, he hadn’t hesitated for even a second to postpone the wedding even though he had nothing to gain from it, on the contrary. He had pulled, pulled and pulled more on the strings held in hands to arrange this little princess, frail and fragile, that he had to marry just for her to end up not even deigning to meet him.
A voice in your head screamed at you to open up to him, to trust him, but would he really understand? Could a man that had everything ever understand a woman that had lost everything? Once again, your fear paralysed you. You didn’t know whether he’d hear you out, listen to you, or simply take what comforted him in his image of you; an image that didn’t seem all that glorious in your eyes.
“I have my reasons.” A short but curt reply.”
“And you don’t think that five years were largely enough to share them with me? We’re going to live together and build a family. From today on, your name is Gojo,” He reminded you.
“Do you understand the scope of things at least?” Before he could even notice, he had raised his tone, making you slightly push away from him, straightening up into your initial position.
You cast your eyes to the ground, almost ashamed. It had been barely five minutes since you started talking and here you were already being nagged. He didn’t think that you could grasp the extent of your responsibilities, of all the sacrifices that you had to make for him. To be honest, he wasn’t wrong, at least not entirely. You didn’t resist the idea of your husband being a man feared by society, he was dangerous, and didn’t let himself be controlled by anyone. And deep down, you respected this side of him, having witnessed first handedly the drifting of society within which you lived. But what you couldn’t imagine for now, was to what lengths this same society, without mentioning heads nor names, was ready to go to break your husband. You could easily conceive the stratagems crafted in an attempt to maintain him out of harm’s way as well as their potential repercussions, but your mind couldn’t accept that one could sacrifice lives just to protect a so-called balance. Gojo knew it. He had paid the price, even, and he almost had pity in the fact that you were unconsciously putting yourself under the spotlights. It was as though you had launched yourself in a hunting party, loaded with weapons but having forgotten the munitions.
Your reaction had somehow caught him off guard since he didn’t want to intimidate you or instigate a relationship of dominant and dominated. He looked at your small hand, still poised close to his, before mumbling something then carelessly getting closer to you. He put the palm of his hand over the back of yours before delicately sliding the pad of his fingers over the length of your arm. Without understanding much as to why, your hairs stood on end, the touch of his skin still burning over yours. He seized your arm as gently as he could before pulling you towards him, recreating a semblance of intimacy.
“I’ll never hurt you. All I ask of you is to trust me, otherwise it would have all been in vain.” He said softly.
He was right, and even if it would be difficult, you had to trust him if you wanted to gain any advantage you sought. Your eyes focused on the sole thing that you could see, your small hand on the floor and the ring that now crowned your finger. A resplendent diamond that his mother had offered you during your first encounter, a mother that loved her son. A mother that wanted to protect her son at all cost, but who wasn’t ready to sacrifice a life in order to save another, no matter how much she wanted to.
“I’ll do everything in my power to make this marriage work, but I need time…”
“To?” He waited for you to respond.
“To…” While searching for your words, you slowly realised that you were formulating answers to questions you were never able to ask yourself, thus re-establishing some order into the maze within which had morphed your mind along the years.
Your eyes slowly started to water, tears clenching an invisible vice around your throat, thus holding back the words that you were ready to confess. It was no secret, you needed time to learn to do things right, to learn how to avoid being clumsy. You wanted to pull down your cocoon, to squander your shell and let him breathe some of your air; that’s what he seemed to expect from you, and the price was worth it. But a restrain, call it the blacksmith’s life, firmly held onto the leash that you were trying to let go of.
He seemed to understand that it wouldn’t be today that you’d play cards on the table, maybe it was because of the melancholy that he could read in your face when you turned your head towards him, or maybe the weak shrug of your shoulders as you moved; whatever it was, he clearly understood that it would be meaningless to push this conversation any further. You were already on the verge of tears, and even if it were customary for a woman to cry on her wedding day, he was ready to put money on the fact that it was for entirely different reasons. He now needed to find a way to clear the overly morose air and lift your lips upward.
“Did you know that they served whiskey during traditional weddings?” He asked out of the blue, wiping off your mournful expressing and replacing it with a gigantic question mark.
“Really? Since when?” You answer, totally confused.
“Since a few hours ago apparently, I hope for you that she knows how hold her liquor.”
Who the hell was he talking about? But to your horror, you didn’t know many people who had so little respect for traditions, one of them being less than 10 centimetres away from you.
“Please, tell me it’s not Yuki…” Your eyes widened.
“Alright, I won’t say it,” he taunted you by lifting a hand in the air.
Once again, you had the urge to take a shovel and dig what would soon become your grave, far from the prying eyes, probably heavy with judgment, and the shame that you felt. You and your parents had spent hours and hours trying to convince her to adopt, for even one day, the politically correct, given that it would end up with repercussions on your person. The most annoying part in all of this was that at the time, she seemed to show signs of comprehension and to accept to behave decently. Niet. Tsukumo Yuki would only ever do what she pleased, it was almost a fatality.
His shoulder made contact with yours in a light manner, eyes full of satire. You could finally see the childish side of Gojo Satoru, slowly uncovering right in front of your eyes. Utahime has probably gone through all different shades of suffering to call him an idiot -along with many other names. But in your case, it didn’t really bother you all that much, you even enjoyed this kind of teasing, as long as you could distinguish his intentions. And if, just like in this moment, it was devoid of any perverse motive, you could probably get used to it.
You decide to reciprocate the movement, colliding your shoulder to his forearm, unable to touch his shoulder due to the height difference. He could easily discern the slight frown of your brows when a little laugh escaped from his mouth: there he was mocking you! You didn’t wait before riposting, your little fingers were already fraying a path on his arm before pinching him, showcasing how if he didn’t want to end up as blue as smurf, he’d better avoid making any remarks about your small stature.
“If it’s any comfort, long drinks of water aren’t really my thing.”
“I’ll make sure to tell Yuki.”
“Could it be possible to buy your silence? Mochis? Maybe a pet?”
“You’re scared of my sister? Really?” Now, this was interesting.
“Me? Of course not, come on.” He denied immediately. “I’m just looking for a way to fill my role as a husband and offer you things, tinker bell told me that you had a hard time accepting gifts. I’ll gladly admit, though, that your sister isn’t the type of person one would want on their back.”
“They say the same about you.” You retorted.
“I’m the strongest, after all.” His voice held an aura of pride.
You softly blow from the nose, he was without a doubt the most powerful exorcist of your generation— since many years now. But hearing this affirmation, pronounced in such a laidback way, and with so much confidence; it was funny. He grimaced before clicking his tongue.
“Does my wife doubt me?” He continues.
Hearing him say that so offhandedly made the blood rush up to your cheeks, reminding you that your discussion wasn’t one that two friends would have around a meal. It was that of young married couple, that was supposed to create bonds stronger than sickness, misery and misfortune. He was your husband and you had to get used to it.
“Your wife finds you a bit too full of yourself.” You said teasingly.
“Until proven otherwise, you haven’t answered my question.” He replied without missing a beat.
You took a long inhale, you didn’t want to play hard to get and say that you didn’t believe him to be so strong, just because you didn’t believe it. But you also didn’t want to go with his flow, a little something in his voice hinted that he was enjoying this little play, and you were ready to entertain.
“I know the man I’m marrying.”
“At the risk of disappointing you, I don’t think you know me all that well. But I can’t really blame you, at least not for this, right?” He asked you while switching positions.
He was now half stretched out, his right arm behind your back. His head was at your shoulder’s level, and he didn’t hesitate long before lying on it, appreciating the softness of your kimono’s material.
The soft breeze of the afternoon was playing with the tissues and strands of hair, spinning them at Aeolus’ will. Usually, you’d enjoy the zephyr’s breath, dry and hot weathers weren’t really your cup of tea. However, you found it more annoying than anything else, at this very moment, and your partner seemed to be of the same opinion. Your veil threatened to fly away at any moment now, forcing you to hold it down between your little fingers. Gojo, for his part, had to puff it away each time a piece came free and obstructed his sight, which happened quite often given his posture.
“Your wife only asks to know you, then.” You said softly.
Your reply caught him off guard, he lifted his eyes towards you, tilting his neck even more. You suspected that he was trying to take advantage of the wind, waiting for the moment when your veil would lift to give him a direct view at your face. So you grab as much tissue as possible before pulling it towards yourself, obliterating the smallest of openings to his great disappointment. A chuckle escaped your lips as you heard the small groan of frustration he emitted, to be honest, you were even proud.
“Alright, alright. I’ve been uncovered.” He said begrudgingly.
“Patience is a virtue, Gojo.” You reminded him.
“Virtue that seems to be lacking, Tsukumo. Come on! Which wise head had the bright idea of putting a veil on a woman for her wedding day. Who knows what could be hidden under this-” He pointed to the veil, “-I mean, I wouldn’t dare imagine how many men found themselves stuck with plain Janes because of this stupid tradi- everything alright?”
He laid his worried gaze on your small trembling figure. In fact, your shoulders were shaking frantically, as though fed on a supercharged battery. It was unseemly to burst into laughter during overly crowded ceremonies, whatever the nature of the ceremony in question, and so this was why you were trying your utmost to refrain the fit of laughter that was ready to take over. One could even wonder if Gojo ever heard himself talk, or if he even realised how absurd he could sound.
He frowned, understanding the reason of your current physical state then he pushed you, pretending to be offended. “And here she’s mocking me!”
“You just called me a plain Jane!” You add while mimicking his gesture.
“Absolutely not, I’m just saying that some have eh…less luck than others. You don’t think that I’m right, not even a bit?” He cocked his head a little.
You had to admit that even in his stupidity, there was a certain foundation basis. You doubted that the problem to him wasn’t a piece of tissue but rather the instrumentality of a bond meant to be sacred. There shouldn’t be anything cumbering someone to bound themselves forever to someone they didn’t know. It was a liberticidal and medieval practice, that even if in certain circumstances would end into something beautiful, mostly caused more pains than gains. And you couldn’t help but think that in every case where an arranged marriage worked, the merit always went to the husband who was more obliging than he ought to be. Especially in your case, in a field where love seemed to have no importance.
“Of course-”
“See! I’m always right,” He cuts you off.
You rolled your eyes before pulling more material from your veil toward yourself, tightening your grip on the space between your neck and face.
“Even so, that’s not a reason for me to let you feast your eyes. Plus, isn’t your your six eyes supposed to let you see everything?” You asked.
“It’s more complicated than that, I’ll explain one day, promise. In the meantime, I believe it’s time. Do you have the rings?”
His question was only met with confusion. “Which rings? I have no…”
“You forgot our wedding rings? “ He asked incredulously.
“What?! But I wasn’t the one supposed to bring them! No one told me!”
Not quite sure of what to do, you started to wiggle left and right, to and fro, as though your body was trying to invoke the jewels. You were hoping that your sister would notice the agitation and fly to your rescue, like she always did, but how to know if you had the attention of anyone when you couldn’t even see to more than 10 centimetres? But you were quickly cut in your movement by a big hand tapping on your thigh several times, making you regain your calm.
“Now, now, I’m kidding! They’re with your sister,” he articulates between two laughs. If he wanted to embarrass you, then he clearly succeeded.
Your only response was to hit his palm with yours several times, without much force to inflict any pain but rather to showcase how lame you found his joke.
Gojo freed your thigh before finally getting up, the rustling of tissues indication movement. He smiled to several people before beckoning Yuki. This kind of ceremony could and should normally last way longer than this. But this pack of apparent hypocrisy and false courtesy annoyed him enough to cut it short.
“Hey lovebirds, I hope you’re not too bored over here.” She says, overjoyed, before throwing a small box toward your spouse, he thanks her with a wink.
“Yuki,” you say once you recognise her, your joy more than evident.
She grasped you by the shoulders before turning your around, your back now to the crowd, shielded from the indiscrete eyes of the guests- as well as Gojo’s. Yuki put a knee on the floor before bending the tip of the veil still on top of your head before pulling it over, sliding hers under. It was impossible to talk with all these people around, yet she had a solution to everything.
“Nice one-on-one, right?” She teased while sticking her forehead to yours.
“I can hear them berate from here, you shouldn’t do this.”
“That’s Gojo grumbling because he can’t be in my shoes.” She said with raised voice.
“So, how are things? Everything okay?” She asked. That was a good question, to which you had no real answer. To be completely honest, you’d learnt to detach yourself from reality, to be a spectator in your own life rather than the actress. If you couldn’t always decide, then you’d rather not suffer. So you played the role you were assigned, you sang your opera till the curtains fell, away from the indiscrete gazes and breakable hearts. But not wanting to worry your sister, you just lie, one more time.
“Oh yes, yes. Everything’s for the best, don’t worry. He, however, is starting to lose patience I think.” You replied finally.
“Gojo? He was born with an eye on the watch, it’s out of his control. Good luck bearing with him, sis,” she commiserates satirically.
“I can hear you,” he throws in, busy smoothing down his clothes, tired of sitting down.
Yuki waved her hand in a way that says to shut up, not caring about what he could hear or think. All that she cared about at this moment was to know that you weren’t regretting anything, and that if deep down you wished to cancel this wedding but didn’t dare to say it, ashamed or scared of disappointing. She locked her gaze abnormally serious into yours, she was trying to spot any hint of unease, after all, eyes were truly the mirror of the soul. But to her great disappointment, she couldn’t see anything; your usually sparkly irises, were wan, pale and empty, devoid of any emotion. She could see neither joy nor pain, neither regret nor apprehension; absolute void. She wasn’t really sure whether what she was looking for was more worrying than what she’d found.
However, Yuki knew that questioning you or trying to make your spill the beans would be in vain, a little sister even more closed off than herself. So she shut up, tucked her worries in before landing a soft kiss on your forehead, a kiss meant to be reassuring, slowly murmuring that whatever happened, she’d forever be by your side. She stepped away and put back the white lace over your face before throwing a small velvety box toward Gojo, a box that he effortlessly caught mid-fly. He thanked her with the back of his hand before she got up, decolonizing the nuptial space that was meant for you and your spouse and returned to your parents, leaving you along once again.
“The priest is here, let’s get up.” He lends you his hand so you can stand up.
You put your small fingers in his big palm, squeezing it while hoping that it’d be enough for you to straighten up. That said, your kimono was quite tight due to the enormous amount of clothes under it, and you couldn’t bend your knee correctly to get up, thus losing your balance. You almost kissed the floor if it weren’t for Gojo who’d leaned toward you in order to hold you up discretely.
His hand was on your hip, while you grabbed onto both of his forearms, unconsciously digging your nails into his flesh. You could feel his hot breath on your forehead, then his head tilted down, his lips were now closer to the lines of your ear.
“Everything good?” He whispered before letting you go, having made sure that you weren’t about to fall once more.
You nodded timidly, still under the effect of the close proximity, so new and so sudden. Being this small- smaller than you’d imagined, your head ended up on his collarbone, the part of his body that wasn’t covered by the outfit. If it weren’t for the veil, your lips would have been directly in contact with his skin, this thought alone created a sort of uneasiness inside of you. It reminded you of the day when your uniform had ripped off, showing off your belly as well as a part of your chest, under the stupefied gaze of a certain Zenin.
He then gets away from you, trying to get into a respectable distance from your body (he probably thought that you were uneasy because of the physical contact with a stranger) but close enough for his stretched arms to reach for you.
You didn’t understand what was going on until the deafening silence draped the crowd that uttered neither words nor agitation. So straightened up, straight as a stick while facing your spouse who snorted before putting his hand on the small of your back, hinting that you should turn around toward the priest instead of him. You pinned as good as you could, delicately moving your feet as little as possible, in order to be in the best position.
“Sit down,” the holy man indicates.
“We’re gonna stay up, that will make things faster.” Gojo said coolly.
The priest, knowing whom he was facing, didn’t insist more than that, fearing the consequences. Even though, deep down, you knew that Gojo would never go that far, these brief moments made you realise the scope of what the strongest could inspire in others. Disaster, desolation and misfortune must be all that he left behind; he had to feel quite lonely, in the end.
You could easily guess the movements of the man before you, he practiced the rites with great meticulousness, carrying out all these ancestral rituals of purification, or benediction, you never really understood all the flights of fancy. To be more precise, you never really tried to understand; to you, marriage was simply done to tell others that two persons were bound, surely not to get any sort of benediction. And you also didn’t think that a ceremony had any specific value within the couple: its solidarity, its longevity and its purity only depended on the commitment that the married couple was ready to pour in, not of some bowl of holy sake.
The psalms resonating in your ears were incredibly intoxicating. The procession of litanies was probably used to bring joy and benediction to your union before the gods. Even though you didn’t believe more than that, they managed to appease your soul and to put the flames consuming you to sleep. This spiritual atmosphere calmed you down more than you’d like to admit, “So that’s why there were so many believers in the world?”
Then the priest poured a bowl of sake that he extended to your spouse. If your memory weren’t failing you, it was the key moment of every shinto marriage. He lifted the little porcelain utensil to his lips, before taking three successive sips. The priest served his liquor one more time, this one for you.
You lifted your veil enough to reveal your lips before taking the bowl, not without struggle. Noticing your unease, Gojo, gentleman that he could be, relieved you of task so that you could lift the china with both hands, gripping the front of the veil, lifting it forward, enough for you to drink at ease, three sips too. You handed the bowl to the priest so that he can fill it once more, then Gojo drinks a second time, thus sealing your fates forever.
Then came the moment that you were looking forward to the most, and that made it so your spouse couldn’t stay put: the ring exchange. You could see his immaculate teeth through the mesh of your lace, telling you long and wide about the smile engraved on his face. What a brat.
Wearing the veil had nothing to do with tradition, if you must admit it; or at least not among Japanese ones. When it was time for preparations to start and the imperatives of your honeymoon, you’d clashed head first with the conservative customs of the Gojo clan. You wanted to wear a white dress, no matter what, discovering the stupor of your husband as he lifted your veil, throwing your bouquet and laughing without any restrain as ladies fought to catch it. Simply put, you wanted a laic occidental wedding while they tried at all cost to impose a shinto one in its purest form.
And to plead your cause, you could rely -to your great surprise- on your future mother-in-law who had never missed a chance to graciously underline to the clans’ elders that times had improved, and that the youth was detaching itself more and more from the customs of their generation, even going as far as to say that it was the will of her son to have a laic wedding -when the truth was that he didn’t give a damn. He had entrusted all of his responsibilities to his mother who had bent over backwards to meet your requests, having neither the time nor the desire to participate in such mundane things.
You could still remember the day when everyone had finally agreed, it had been the hundredth and endless reunion « opposing » from one side you and your mother-in-law to the elders of the Gojo clan, and none of them was determined to give up not even one decision to your free will. You were all sat on tatamis, the two sides separated by low pieces of furniture, probably sculpted from wood of exorbitant price. Next to each of you, were laid cups full and still steaming that no one had the time to savour. You had been welcome, like every other time, by sullen faces, animated with a parade of « no and synonyms » every time that you’d formulated the smallest request, and you weren’t in a position of power. You needed this marriage more than the clan, and more than Gojo himself; so you were in no position to throw ultimatums or threatening to pull away, given your temperament, they’d be the first to open the exit doors for you.
That was how it went, at least until…
You felt the warm and delicate hand of your mother-in-law land apologetically on yours, you could feel through the gesture that she wanted to be of more help but the situation was out of her hands, it was out of both of your pairs of hands. She closed her eyes before opening them again, hinting that it was time to give up negotiations, pushing them further would only harm your reputation. Because, even if Satoru was by far the strongest and the most feared, it was never good to have the reputation of a rebel within a family that did everything to keep him under leash. You were about to give your consent for the ceremony’s details when the sound of doors slamming against their frames tilted the centre of your attention toward the entrance where the lines of a silhouette, a bit too familiar to your taste, started to form.
“Yo! I knew that it was a mommy’s meeting, but this…you literally rival with Nefertiti!” Mocks the young woman as she leisurely strolls around the room, not even deigning to take off her shoes.
“Lord, may you help us…” you mumble under your breath while covering your eyes with your palm, not knowing what else to do. It was really really the last person you hoped to see at this moment.
It was outrageous, and the cronies around you didn’t bother hiding it, letting out little gasps while covering their mouths with their hands, some even dared to tell your sister to go. Big mistake…
“So,” your sister acquitted as she threw her hindquarters on the ground like an oaf, legs spread wide open before putting her bowl on the low table. “I heard that the negotiations were stalling so i came to play Belgium.”
“-It’s Switzerland”…you whispered discretely.
“Switzerland, pardon me” she corrects while coughing.
You didn’t dare to tear your eyes away from your hand, all you wanted was for the earth to open up and swallow you. Your mother-in-law, as embarrassed as you, put her hand on your back, rubbing you tenderly to reassure you. Like she told you every time, whatever happens her son would protect her, even when he seemed to be away today.
“Everything is totally fine, we were just about to wrap things up.” Starts one of the crackling voices
“Really? White dress white roses and white wine?” She asked hopefully.
You squeezed your eyes more tightly as you heard her mention alcohol, wishing that she’d just shut up for once. You somehow still found the strength to shake your head in negative, but before your sister could say even more, the same voice continued her explanation.
“It will be a shinto wedding, they will be united before men and gods following the tradition and like we do it since aeons ago, and no stranger has their word to say.”
“I can confirm that you’ve traveled aeons with your customs under your arms. I admit that strangers don’t have their word to say from the moment the main subject is reduced to suffering through your feudal services. You’ve noticed how Satoru stayed out of this whole thing, right? And you’re joyfully taking advantage of it because he’s not here threatening to light your heads on fire one by one.”
One of the women was about to say something, probably contradicting and pretending that he’d perfectly given his consent, not doubting for even a second that him and Yuki were long-time friends. The latter lifted her finger to prevent her from doing so, keeping up the flow of her words.
“Let me tell you that he’s not happy at all, and that if my sister doesn’t get what she wants today, and now, he’ll be the one to walk through these doors next time.
And I think you already know him well enough to know that it’s better not to upset him, at least not more than he already is.” She marks a pause, giving them time to soak in the information and weight their options. “So? Ask her immediately what she wants for her wedding.” She concludes by hitting her fist on the table, after having put enough pressure on the word « her », the choice legitimately going back to the spouse, and thus a fortiori only to you.
“What do you want my child?” A third voice asks you. That was the first time when you couldn’t discern an ounce of authority or inquisition.
You’re about to calming things down, waiting for the situation to cool down so that you wouldn’t attract their wrath once the time comes by announcing that you were perfectly alright with what they had suggested, and that they had convinced you. But, having probably anticipated your reaction, Yuki cuts you by gesturing for you to shut up.
“I’ll answer for her, she will wear our mother’s white dress, they’ll exchange their vows and offer their rings.”
“That won’t be possible for the dress, it will be a kimono that she’ll have the luxury to pick. It has to be white, that goes without saying.”
The signs of a categorical refusal were starting to appear on the -so far- relaxed traits of your sister’s face, and you absolutely didn’t want to see her getting angry. So you took the reigns, to hell with what anyone thought. You didn’t know whether the story about Gojo was even real or if it were just another betting game, but you were certain that he’d cover for you anyway. He’d promised after all.
“Wait. I accept the kimono, on the condition that we replace the…the thing that we put over the head with a veil that my mother wore.”
It seemed like a good compromise, you didn’t reject their traditions, but you seasoned them with your own sauce. It was a policy that you’d better start adopting in all of your interactions with them.
The women exchanged a silent conversation through their eyes before accepting, a sigh of relief escaping from your mouth. Your mother-in-law then added one last detail.
“My son will deal with the rings, but you could accompany him if you’d like.”
You smiled at her before discretely shaking your head negatively. You were, more or less, one year away from the wedding date, but you still hadn’t found the courage to meet him, not sure if you would find the words or on the contrary, saying too much and compromising all that had yet to be built.
Your sister then got up without asking for her due, gesturing you to call her once this whole masquerade was over. And so, you end up refining what had to be refined with much more power. You could never thank your sister enough.
The memory stretches your lips, now that you thought of it, it was quite funny. Planning everything just for a madwoman to burst in with her boots and soil years of diktat, it must have been a hard pill to swallow at this moment. You’d learnt later on that your spouse had indeed a role to play, that he himself didn’t see what could possibly hold him back from causing a massacre at the time.
But you could still hear that voice, deep inside, incessantly reminding you that you were nothing but a puppet, a marionette in the hands of more powerful people. You were the one from whom they stripped freedom but it was your sister who’d fly to your rescue, like we’d rescue a birdie from the maws of a feline. You were the one who had choices imposed on her but you couldn’t stand back up, being content with watching others battle in your stead, what dragged you down ever deeper within your lethargy was a vicious cycle from which you could never escape. All the responsibilities from which your sister had run away had fallen on your shoulders: you had to protect yourself, protect your sister, protect your mother and father from a danger that wouldn’t exist if Yuki had just done what she was told. But could you even blame her when you wanted to do exactly the same?
You weren’t even sure who you should blame, yourself for being so weak, you sister for having built a life at the expense of her family, your parents who’d let her while insidiously projecting their expectations on you, or this society that had used you. You needed a culprit if you wanted to stay sane, but you couldn’t seem to find one.
This is why you’d refused to meet with Gojo during all this time, getting to know him would force you to think about your due date, about the fact that you never managed to impose your opinion, and all that you couldn’t control. About all the questions that couldn’t seem to find an answer, about the questions that stirred a falling hate that you slammed shut inside your heart. And you surpassed, you forgot, you ignored as much as you could, you went with the flow of the waves so that they wouldn’t fall on you. But deep down, you knew it, you knew that this marriage would be your downfall. You could feel that, one way or another, Gojo Satoru would be your demise.
He, who now stood in front of you: his delicate and tender wife. He gets closer and lifts up your veil, discovering the face with which he’s meant to live, the first thing he’d see in the morning and the last before sleeping. He runs his eyes through your features, blushed by a smile that you struggled to keep, and even this scarf that was supposed to cover you wasn’t enough to conceal his change of attitude. You were no longer the same person he’d been conversing with, you were no longer the one he’d seen himself talking to about everything and nothing around a good coffee. it was as though someone else had substituted for you, as though someone had replaced a young bud with a shell that threatened to break at the slightest puff of wind. No, you were already broken, reduced to smithereens by the hard truth, too hard to carry.
But he wasn’t conscious of the hidden truth behind you melancholic face, he didn’t know that while he was getting closer to you, your subconscious was writing down all your hate, all your pain towards him. And he knew even less, when his lips landed against yours, that the only thoughts going through your eyes were those of one thousand and one ways of running away.
You had spent five years trying to love this marriage.
It took five minutes for these fragile constructions to crumble down and send you back to the starting line.
It was much easier to blame others for your own weakness, wasn’t it? If only you’d had the courage to affirm yourself, not to let your fear of deceiving all those who had born all their hopes on you overwhelm you. You were condemned to make choices when the choice itself constitutes the absence of freedom, and you couldn’t bear it anymore, you were on your knees, out of breath, at the edge of the chasm of dementia, condemned to be a spectator to the people around you, them making their own decisions and writing their own stories.
“Why can’t I do it? Why them and not me?” You’d ask yourself over and over again. It may seem absurd but you couldn’t understand someone like him, spoiled by nature, arrogant and cynical, always getting what he wanted and not you, you who’d spent nights patching your own wounds, having to look at your troubled reflection soaked in tears, having to challenge and convince your body to bear with it, to forget and to find the force not to crumble down because it was still not enough…
You had, at the same time, none and all the reasons in the world to hate him, and the balance of your mind tilted dangerously towards the irrational. And that, no one would ever know, and even he wouldn’t have noticed it if he weren’t born with a head start.
During all this time, his six eyes was scrutinising you, studying every osciliation of your pupils, peeling every morsel of your skin that stretched into a smile or on the contrary, that was breaking down. And he was not dupe, he could not afford to be dupe, not when so many people jostled each other to see him dead.
And he tells himself, as he seals a marriage destined to failure with a chilly kiss, that you would be, one way or another, his downfall.
Then came the calm after the storm, he accompanied you wordlessly to your family that you sought so hard to protect, he greeted them before pretexting some foolish excuse or another before slipping away, leaving you at the arms of a comfort he’d never be close to providing.
You wanted for this moment to last eternally, you didn’t want to stop hearing the voice of your father, nor to stop feeling the warm arms of your mother, and even less to think that you’d be separated from your role model: Yuki. So you took shelter in what would soon become a memory, animated images behind your eyelids. You could almost forget about the crowd around you, your new family and your husband.
But it’s not about the calm after the storm, it’s rather about the calm before the storm. And this same storm was getting closer to you, a wicked smile stained with jealousy plastered to the face.
“All my best wishes, and here I thought you’d be canceling the wedding.”
You didn’t think, given the heavy burden already orating your shoulders, that the situation could get any worse, in a drastic way; and yet, there was a detail you’d neglected. Maybe it was due to the lack of time, lack of courage or maybe just because you knew damn well that he’d put a spoke in your wheels, but you had never put Naoya in the know.
Ever since you’d announced the news to him, he’d added a weight to the scale of your miseries because, even if it seemed to come from purely good intentions, he’d never realise the scope of the repercussions if he’d ever managed to cancel the wedding -or at least try to cancel it. Stuck between your desire to keep everything secret and to keep a semblance of control, you’d chosen the easy way, the one of cowardice, and to tell him that the wedding was called off, rather than postponed. You’d told yourself that within five years, you’d find the time to explain things to him, that you’d find the power to tell him the truth and to convince him to calmly stay put; but time had gone by way too fast, laying it on thick.
And seeing him like this made the blood freeze in your veins, your face blanching out of all its festive colors. You could feel your heart thumping, not sure why, it was beating so fast in front of him. You stretched one of your hands towards him, clutching into his arm as if your life depended on it. “Don’t leave me, please.” Your soul cried to him while your face crumpled by the minute.
“Naoya,” you try to articulate. “Let me explain-” He dragged you out of the crowd, leaving your family bathing in utter confusion.
You were overwhelmed by all the eyes staring at you, how all this must have looked unseemly for a newlywed to throw her arms at the heir of an enemy clan. But nothing mattered to you at the moment, you needed a way to patch the broken pieces of this relationship after having shattered it with your own two hands. Once away from the indiscreet eyes, he violently shoved you away, eyes full of animosity that destroyed you.
“It’s not what you think!“ of course it is !
“And what do I think?”
“That I lied to you!” That’s exactly what you did !
His eyes were turning red, every little venule roaming his globes were breaking under the adrenaline, staining red the surrounding white.
He clenched his fists, repressing the urge to crush them into your pretty face. You deserved it, and if only hitting you could appease him, you were ready to take the punch.
But he was still a man of principles, and disfiguring the wife of the most powerful sorcerer wasn’t one of them, even if he was closer to her than her own husband could ever be. Naoya admitted ,not without trouble, that he wasn’t an example. But he wasn’t that crazy; so he poured his rage on one of the beams that held up the edifice under which he’d dragged you, the impact resonated heavily in your ears.
“You lied to me-” he continued, and you knew that he was about to throw words even sharper than daggers at you.
“You deliberately made me believe that you had called off the marriage, and I even had a hunch that you weren’t capable of it. But I believed you, because I couldn’t imagine that the person that had put her life in the palm of hands so many times, would lie to me. Not to me, Tsukumo, not to me.”
He couldn’t accept the idea that you’d judge his help as being useless, him, Naoya Zenin had graciously offered his help to a lousy stranger, a good-for-nothing girl, without name or particular power. The mere fact of offering even his small finger when your life didn’t even concern him, was an enormous sprain to his pride, and the fact that you’re a woman only added fuel to an already raging inferno.
“I didn’t want to, I swear! I was overwhelmed by all the events, Naoya, you have to believe me!” You pleaded. “I never meant to hide it from you, I never wanted this to happen, I don’t love him. Lord, I don’t even know him!” You almost begged him to believe you, your voice trembling and words spewing out of your mouth uncontrollably, and the more you heard yourself talk, the more pathetic you felt. In all honesty, if you were him, no apology would be granted ; he’d only tried to lighten your burden and yet only gained lies and betrayal in return. What kind of friend were you?
“You’re a ticking bomb, you know that? A fucking bomb that threatens to explode at every second. Tic, tac, tic, tac, tic, tac-” He clicked his tongue, “-and then boom, there’ll be nothing left, neither anything of you nor of what surrounds you.”
A ticking bomb, that was exactly what you’d become. You’d spent one too many years piling things up. Years of constantly hiding in the shadow of your peers, years of constantly being forced to kowtow to the desires of others. Your sister had tried more than once to pull you out of your puppet syndrome, but it was worse than a vicious cycle. The more she repeated that you could live your life the way you wanted to, the deeper the ditch between you sunk, and the more you felt worthless, But there was still something she couldn’t do, protecting your parents by marrying Gojo Satoru. But until when? Until when would your body stay the course before tragically changing tack? Because, even though you didn’t know when, you knew that your fatum would catch up to you sooner or later.
And like the straw that breaks the camel’s back, Naoya’s hard and venomous look chipped bit of your facade by the second, the proud and composed woman that you served to people was starting to crumble under the heavy weight of reality, like a cracked urn would give in to the pressure of the liquid within. The one that had shared her days during way too many years was now drowning in her remorse, to the point of forgetting how to cry for help.
“There’s no use in crying,” he murmurs, framing your face between his thumb and forefinger. “Wipe your tears or people will talk, it’s not good for you.”
You softly sniffed, trying to compose yourself again as best as you could. Your eyes were reddened by tears that he ended up wiping off with the back of his phalanx. Not sure why, your hand wrapped his wrist, or at least what it could hold of it before burying your cheek into his palm, holding onto him like a lifeline, like the last thing that bound you to this world. When did Naoya become so important to you? Even he didn’t know, but he sure as heck planned to enjoy every last bit of it.
“I don’t blame you,” he says. “But I gotta admit that it profoundly hurt me; to know that you didn’t trust me.”
He was deliberately lying to you, the little chuckle that he failed to hide should have been hint enough, but you were too adrift for this, too shaken by the idea of having betrayed him, and having betrayed his trust; haunted by the thought of losing one of your closest friends. So you gobbled up all his says, like a poor thirty pup, without ever asking questions nor shifting your attention.
“I’m sorry.” You apologised once again, at loss for better words.
“Don’t worry about it, but you have to promise to never hide anything from me again. Think you can do that?” He asked.
You were confident enough to say that you were born with a gift, since an early age, your instincts had rarely failed you when it came to gauging others’ intentions: just one simple look and all their motives unfolded before you like an open book. And at this very moment, your sixth sense was screaming at you to refuse, to lay a pitiful excuse, not to make yet another promise of total honesty. Something’s wrong, something’s wrong, something’s wrong! Chants a voice in your head. But you were well too eaten with guilt. So without thinking much of it, you frantically nod your head, not wanting to let the smallest doubt glide over the sincerity of your intentions. You never meant to open your heart to him, at least not entirely, after all you knew better than anyone how twisted this man could be. But now that a sword of Damocles was hanging over your head, you’d rather offer him all the necessary cards to destroy you than doing it yourself. At least, it wouldn’t be your fault.
“Good,” he compliments while caressing your cheek. “Now you need to get back to your dear husband, you don’t want him thinking that you’re plotting things behind his back, right? I’m sure he’s the type to keep an eye open, who knows, he might sleep elsewhere,” he says more to himself than you. But those were just empty words, interlaced with sarcasm and hypocrisy, and without the slightest foundation.Naoya was absolutely not close to Gojo, but once you sow the grain of discord, it’s difficult to back-pedal. Whatever the case, you knew well how Gojo Satoru dealt with his enemies; and you’re well on your way to being part of the lot.
Later, when you shyly slipped your arm around Gojo, carefully rolling it around the hollow offered by his folded elbow, and despite the cordial smile that you’d exchanged, you could only wonder : was he really wary of you? What kind of relationship could be built on a basis devoid of trust? What kind of marriage would he cherish if he came in every evening expecting his wife to stab him in the back? All these thoughts only helped submerging you a little bit deeper into your perdition. All you could do now was hope for him to talk it out with you, giving you the chance to clear up any doubts soaring above his head. Should this not be the case, you were too ashamed to ever bring up the subject.
With a tad bit of perceptiveness, you might have noticed that behind his deceiving smile, your husband’s clever eyes had missed nothing of your little gateway, nothing of the fact that another man could touch you so when you wouldn’t even let him see your face. You were far from being lovebirds, but even to him who spat and stepped on everything that was to his sense archaic, couldn’t conceive that a marriage would hold out if loyalty was amiss. Would he ever come to love you? Probably never, having been a witness to it as he dug deeper into the pit separating you; that said, he’d sworn to offer you all the respect that you deserved; as a wife, a woman -for all that you must have done to survive within this macho and patriarchal society, but also and mostly as a sister. Yuki was a role model to him, an avant-gardist that had shown him that one could build their own reality in a dystopian world, and it was unconceivable for him to harm her. But could he really do it if the you threw yourself in the arms of another man on his wedding day? And not any man! He couldn’t even think about what tomorrow would have in store.
Naoya had just set foot into your marriage, and he’d sworn not to get out before having turned everything upside down. Because, even though your wedding ceremony hadn’t hurt his feelings anymore than that, you were an adult and you had the right to marry whoever you wanted -at least he tried to convince himself of this. He couldn’t say the same for his ego though, which had been greatly undermined by your little secrets. And he was sure to make you pay for it.
Even if the choice was, by definition, the absence of freedom, it didn’t make things any less fatalistic. And it wasn’t a rare sight to see people howling at liberticide basking in the consequences of their choices. But you didn’t have the luxury of being of this, you had made a chain with every link being a little lie that you’d chosen to mouth, and without noticing, you had chained yourself with it. Prisoner of your making.
You lifted your eyes one last time towards your husband, who was looking back at you with a worried face; he’d surely noticed from the robotic responses you’d given him ever since coming back that you were pondering something. Gojo takes a deep inhale before swallowing back his ego and breaking the ice that had reformed way too quickly, despite his best effort.
“Do you want to tell me something?” He didn’t want it to sound like he were asking for a confession, but his subconscious seemed to have overruled his tongue.
« I’ll never hurt you, all that I ask of you is to trust me » his comforting words played back inside your head, and you wanted to do it, to tell him what bothered you so. He’d taken a step towards you, so why not do the same? It was too early to be entirely transparent, but he deserved a little confession.
Maybe you’d just taken the best decision for the first time in a while by whispering a weak consent, letting him glimpse the expanse of your distress.
↳ Choices we’re bound to make in life don’t always turn out well, and you would have to learn that the hard way, maybe should you have listened to your sister when she tried to dissuade you from marrying a man that you didn’t know, as charming as he might seem.
You were never much of a sleeper. In all honesty, you usually slept for about four to five hours per night at best. Your mother often teased you by saying it was because of you and all the lights you turned on on your way, that all the nightingales would start singing in the morning. Maybe it was because you always considered the unconscious state of sleep as a way to turn your back to reality, bypassing daily rationalism in favor of a utopian loophole. A world where all that was needed was to want something strongly enough for it to materialize, a world where we’d see our worst torments disappear, a world where fear, hate and disarray would be blown away by the sole strength of willpower. A world where we had control over our choices. Which, let’s be honest, wasn’t really your case.
So for the first time since ages, you gave yourself the right to sleep a little bit longer than usual, your body finally giving out under the weight of a night’s worth of tears and incessant questionings. Your body had probably understood that your subconscious was, now, the only place where your mind could rest, the only place where a modicum of safety was left.
You dreamt of all sorts of things, things that you’ll probably never get to taste again. Kyoto, its streets and its odors. You dreamt of long walks that you made sporadically with your father, whenever the weather would allow it. You dreamt of cherry trees which you admired every year, in front of which your inner child came out every time. You couldn’t help yourself from taking a picture beside them, your mother would always point out how the shades of the roses perfectly matched with your carnation. You also dreamt of numerous matcha desserts that you’d buy on your way home, and sometimes tried to hide away…You didn’t know it at the time, but your mother always noticed the little green powder around your lips, but only teased your father until he felt the unbearable desire to go and buy some, so to make the whole family enjoy it. You dreamt of your school as well, of certain good memories, you dreamt of the school exchange, those times when you went to Tokyo as part of the association. You replayed the trips, the long discussions with Naoya, as rare and precious as they were to your eyes. You learnt to put up with his nasty misogynistic and egocentric temper; you even reached the point where you wondered how you could even survive without being reminded that you belong in a beautiful and well furnished kitchen. And then, you saw your hangman again, gaze hidden by a pair of black lenses.
↳ Choices we’re bound to make in life don’t always turn out well, and you would have to learn that the hard way, maybe should you have listened to your sister when she tried to dissuade you from marrying a man that you didn’t know, as charming as he might seem.
You were never much of a sleeper. In all honesty, you usually slept for about four to five hours per night at best. Your mother often teased you by saying it was because of you and all the lights you turned on on your way, that all the nightingales would start singing in the morning. Maybe it was because you always considered the unconscious state of sleep as a way to turn your back to reality, bypassing daily rationalism in favor of a utopian loophole. A world where all that was needed was to want something strongly enough for it to materialize, a world where we’d see our worst torments disappear, a world where fear, hate and disarray would be blown away by the sole strength of willpower. A world where we had control over our choices. Which, let’s be honest, wasn’t really your case.
So for the first time since ages, you gave yourself the right to sleep a little bit longer than usual, your body finally giving out under the weight of a night’s worth of tears and incessant questionings. Your body had probably understood that your subconscious was, now, the only place where your mind could rest, the only place where a modicum of safety was left.
You dreamt of all sorts of things, things that you’ll probably never get to taste again. Kyoto, its streets and its odors. You dreamt of long walks that you made sporadically with your father, whenever the weather would allow it. You dreamt of cherry trees which you admired every year, in front of which your inner child came out every time. You couldn’t help yourself from taking a picture beside them, your mother would always point out how the shades of the roses perfectly matched with your carnation. You also dreamt of numerous matcha desserts that you’d buy on your way home, and sometimes tried to hide away…You didn’t know it at the time, but your mother always noticed the little green powder around your lips, but only teased your father until he felt the unbearable desire to go and buy some, so to make the whole family enjoy it. You dreamt of your school as well, of certain good memories, you dreamt of the school exchange, those times when you went to Tokyo as part of the association. You replayed the trips, the long discussions with Naoya, as rare and precious as they were to your eyes. You learnt to put up with his nasty misogynistic and egocentric temper; you even reached the point where you wondered how you could even survive without being reminded that you belong in a beautiful and well furnished kitchen. And then, you saw your hangman again, gaze hidden by a pair of black lenses.
Now that you thought of it, you were never able to see that famous six eyes. Even so, you’d have all your life to carve it in your memory, hoping that your soul would come out of it unscathed. You suddenly saw him get closer to you until his hand landed on your shoulder, a move that pulled you out of your inertia in one jump. You looked around you, the clock on the table showed an unholy afternoon hour. You sighed while loosening your shoulders, letting go of some stress that had accumulated within you. You softly ran your hands over your face, covering your eyes as best as you could from the sun rays that entered through your blinds. You had absolutely no desire of moving out of bed, but so many things awaited you, after all, life goes on.
You swept a brief look over your phone, a consequent number of phone calls from unknown numbers caught your attention, however you didn’t give it much thought since you never answered numbers you didn’t recognize. Also, if it were really that urgent, they’d just send you a message. Which wasn’t the case, so there was no need to rack your brain more than that. You put a leg, soon followed by its homologue, on the cold floor of your room. Your eyes, still half asleep, didn’t seem to perceive much of the surroundings anymore. The colors, until now warm, of your walls seemed a bit somber and cold, and the sky crumbs that peeked through the cracks of your shutters, were grey as though emptied of the life that always animated them. What did you look like? Nothing decent anymore, whispers a voice. And just a quick glance in the mirror was enough to confirm it. Your hair, usually disciplined and well combed, was all over the place, and your eyes bore a palette of reds that you couldn’t even imagine. You part your lips, slightly opening your eyes with a stupefied look in front of such a scene. You softly put two fingers on your cheek, doubtfully reducing the distance between your face and its reflection, as though to leave one last chance for it to change and tell you that this old rag that currently met your face wasn’t really you. But nothing happened. As hard as it was to believe, you looked like a pale old rag, and there was no way you’d show yourself like this to your parents that were probably thinking that the love of your life had just proposed to you. And your head was far from looking like that of someone who was in love, from near or from afar. You grasp your courage into hands and draw your way toward the bathroom as fast as possible, to minimize your chances of meeting anyone. You needed a good hot shower, or rather a cold one, just to settle your ideas back into place and wake your numb body. You snuck into the room, eyes fixed on the hallway to make sure that no one was hiding in any blind spot of the building. Once safe and no one in sight, you closed the door to smack your forehead three times against the varnished wood. You sighed, mumbling a weakly“what the hell am I gonna do… “
“Turning down the wedding sounds like a good option to me”
Your sister’s voice makes you jump and a small cry escapes from your lips against your will. You turn toward her before taking off the mule you were wearing on your feet and throwing it in her direction. She dodges with ease, the shoe landing against the wall in a muffled sound. You freeze once you see the contrast, a beautiful hole decorated with cracks was now throning at the impact’s spot; you were an exorcist, thus possessing considerable physical strength which you, sometimes, had a hard time controlling, resulting, sometimes, in such damages.
“We’ll turn a blind eye on the discretion, there’s the parents’ room behind the wall that you almost took down. And good luck explaining this…”
A vague sense of despair mixed with shame ran through your body, suddenly wanting to take a shovel and dig a hole where you’d bury yourself and never come out again. Your hand unconsciously and loudly ended up slapping your forehead before you let yourself ease up, leaning, or rather slumping against the door behind you. Your sister scrutinized your reaction with a worried look, wondering what demon took possession of the body of her younger sister, usually so composed. She gently moved toward you, avoiding any sudden movement, before putting both of her hands on your cheeks, locking her emerald irises within yours.
“You have the right to refuse, no one will judge you” she continued with a gentleness that you didn’t know.
“I know that…”
Some honesty wouldn’t hurt you. Your sister may be the person that knew the most about the story, but it wasn’t any less complicated for you to open up to her on what you were feeling. You always built some kind of construct, some type of fortress around yourself; filtering what you wanted to reveal to others from what you kept in your secret garden. You didn’t hide laughter, you didn’t hide tender memories and wisecracks; but you concealed your weaknesses and demons, everything that could wipe the beautiful smile from your face. But sometimes, it could feel good to confide in someone.
“You saw them yesterday,”you say. “They lookes so happy…It can’t be that terrible, I know many people who got married like this.”
“Lying is a sin, you know that, right ?”
“Yuki…you’re making this harder, really. I’m trying to see the good side of things, I’m trying to imagine everything that could go well. Maybe he isn’t so bad…”
“I’m hearing a “but”.”
“But all I’m able to feel is hatred and bitterness. How can they do this? How can this moron choose in my stead? But of course he’s the strongest! An exorcist from the special rank! How to refuse? They give him everything, even the woman that never asked for anything!”
With this confidence, you let yourself fall to the floor. Your legs came to your chest, you hid your face at the bottom of your arms, sheltering yourself as best as you could. You felt as though you were being quartered, on one side pulled the weight of your responsibilities toward your family, the weight imposed by your parents without them being aware of it. On the other side, your pride, your regrets, your desires, your hopes…simply you. How do you choose, how could a person as altruistic as you ever choose between the people you cherished the most and yourself?
Your sister didn’t immediately respond, submerged in her cogitatum. She threw one last little glance at the damage inflicted on the wall before crouching on your right, double blocking the door to anyone who’d want to enter.
“Listen, I don’t know if it’s very seemly to tell you this, but I don’t think that Gojo is to blame in this story.”
You dryly lift your head so that she can see your incredulous look, mixed with exasperation. You prepared yourself to retort and tell her that in any case and whatever were the circumstances, he had given his consent without consulting you, when he visibly knew your sister. Even if he weren’t the instigator, he was at least an accomplice, creating within you the incapacity to exonerate him from his part of responsibility in your misery. But your sister lifted a finger in the air, cutting your intentions short.
“Let me finish first. I think that he’s not even aware, this must be a strategy orchestrated by his family and the counsel. That’s what I think, the Gojo clan would assure a lineage, and the counsel would win one more way to keep him on leash. With a family under his wings, he’d think twice before turning his back on the world. Like I told you before, it’s not like him to get himself into relationships where he needs to commit. He’s a child, like you; he’s what? One year older than you? That’s nonsense. What I suggest to you, is to talk to him-”
“I already said no.”
The blonde lets out a loud exhale, clearly annoyed by your stubbornness and lack of cooperation. She had no difficulty in understanding how hurt you were, seeing your life slipping between your fingers like that, but she, unlike you, still thought with her head. And as much as you refuse to admit it, your feelings were taking over, and all your decisions, all the choices you were about to make at this moment could be tarnished if you didn’t take a step back. And she’d be here to make sure that you don’t make any mistakes, even if it means hurting your sensibility and shoving you when necessary. Yuki raised her hand just to knock it down on the back of your head, a sign that you’d better shut up till she lets you talk. She fumbled in her pocket before pulling out a phone then typed a few moments on it before placing it at your feet. A simple glance made you understand what she was doing; in fact, the screen showed a name that you came to hate: Gojo Satoru. A simple choice was offered to you: calling and confronting someone whose actions you didn’t know, and toward which you harbored a growing disdain. Or simply refuse, and accept your fate.
You stared at the board in front of your before stretching your arm toward the object, bringing it to yourself. You looked closer to the picture adjoined to the contact. it was undeniably true that he was a handsome man, almost making you soften before your eyes looked back up at your sister, slowly shaking your head in resignation, giving her back her phone.
“I’m sorry…I can’t do it.”
“Why?”She asked.
“Because.”
“That’s not an answer.”
-I don’t have an answer to give, Yuki. I can’t talk to him, I can’t even place a word with him! All I want is to spit on his face and tell him how much I hate him, how much he’s ruining my life. Is that what you want?
“You refuse to talk to him yet you accept marrying him?”
That sounded crazy, completely insane, said like that. If you weren’t able to even say hello, how were you going to live through the fact that you’d have to wake up every morning in front of the same face, and say good morning to him; cook, sleep with him and even more- The idea alone made your stomach churn. Alright, you didn’t imagine your self recreating the sexual intercourse of a nun, but you’d hoped to at least have control over who would be the first person to touch you. Before you could ever realize it, your body, of its own accord, led you toward the toilet seat, head tilted down, you felt your stomach’s content- liquids pouring from your mouth. Your sister rushed toward you to hold you up, one hand on your back the other pulling as much hair away from your face as she could; she murmured softly that everything would be alright, and that you had o trust her. You grasped her hand tightly before a second wave of nausea took over your body again, bending you even more over the bowl. She felt guilty, thinking that if she hadn’t had this discussion with you, maybe then you wouldn’t be arched and vomiting your guts out. A kiss came down over your left temple, then you were swallowed in a well deserved hug.
“Take a shower, but don’t hurt yourself, ok? I’ll see what I can do.”
“Don’t do anything, please…”
Your iris fixed on a random spot while you tried to forget the image that had brought such a violet reaction out of you. Yuki didn’t reply, and just caressed your forearms in a comforting manner, almost motherly. You thought again about what those old fossils had ostracized her, making you force out a laugh. You slowly squeezed her hand, signing to her that you felt better. Once up and about again, she went toward the door which she opened with the least possible noise possible. But before she left, she threw one last glance in your direction. A look which meant that she was watching you closely, and that if you lost control, she’d be there to catch you. Whatever the consequences of her actions, whatever your reaction.
After a good and abnormally long bath, you wrapped your small body in a big pink towel, a color that you’ve always appreciated. You decided to look one more time in the mirror, taking an inhale meant to fill you up with courage, as much air as your lungs could withstand.
“You can do it, you just have to smile.”
You monologue this way for a long minute to convince yourself that you could do it. You could overcome this. This marriage was your grave but the salvation of your family, a necessary evil, and evil you had to accept. An evil you’d learn to want. With your two indexes, you pull at your lips, sketching a smile that you’d now have to keep, today, tomorrow, and for the eternity that you’d spend with your future husband.
Once dressed and with a touch of make up on, you went to your parents, preferring to maximize the chances you had of hiding your unease. You were welcomed by an embrace that could severe one’s breath away, as though your mother hadn’t seen you in years. You return the gesture before greeting your father. They were all siting at the table for lunch, reminding you of how late you woke up.
“We were waiting for you,” whispers your mother with a sweet voice. “I made your favorite dish!”
You were just about to refuse when your sister pulled the chair on which you usually sat, and you didn’t want to know what would happen if you disobeyed.
The meal made you feel better, your stomach was growling since earlier. However, there lingered a certain melancholy within your eyes, telling you that this meal was probably the last one that you’d share with them; since Gojo lived in Tokyo, he’d certainly make you follow him there. As per usual, after each meal, you’d clean up the table with your sister before washing the dishes.
“A real little housekeeper,” your sister murmurs to you, kissing your cheek a few dozen times. “I’m going to take a walk, do you want me to bring you anything? Matcha mochis?”
Your eyes were round and the little cute face you were showing when you heard the name of your favorite dessert were enough of a response to her. She sunk one of her hands in her pockets before clasping her keys in the other one, she took this chance to make a sign of her hand to your parents before taking her leave. You were once again left alone with your own thoughts, you wondered what it would be like to live within one of the three big exorcist families. You’d have gladly asked your mother, adviser and confidante, but she and your dad were simple people, born by chance, with powers they’d rather not have. They even had jobs that had absolutely nothing to do with their world, you even suspected that they chose their career to stay away from their origins. However, there was one person that could give you information. What you were about to hear would certainly not please you, but it was better than rushing headlong into the unknown.
Once your hands were dried with a towel, you took out your phone, noticing that you had more missed calls from numbers you hadn’t saved, then dialed the one of your four years’ long partner.
“I hope that you have a good reason to bother me.” answers an ever so unpleasant voice.
“Hello Naoya, I’m good and you? Oh you know, nothing much, I’m getting married.”
-You’re what? You? Who’s the idiot that would want you?
“Listen, it’s not a conversation to have over the phone. I need your help, can I pass by?
“I’m waiting for you.”
With this, he hangs up without asking more. You were slowly massaging your temples whilst confronting such a temper, suddenly regretting putting him on the know. You say goodbye to your parents after telling them where you were going. You weren’t going to reveal the identity of the “moron” in question, nor sharing what was haunting you. Behind his eccentricity, Naoya remained a very simple individual to read. He, like anyone else, had figures that he admired. And this link of admiration, in his case, was directly ruled by a certain superiority. They simply had bigger powers than his’, and yours by the way. During a moment of weakness, he had confessed to you that Gojo was one of them, making you grasp the amplitude of the rumors about him. And if he were to find out that you had to marry him…You weren’t sure what he’d do, but you certainly didn’t want to witness it.
The ride toward the Zenin residence went without a hitch, if not for your brain spinning continuously, making a list of everything you shouldn’t spill at the risk of compromising the anonymity of your future husband. Some servants were kind enough to show you where your partner awaited for you, head sitting on his elbow with an expression from which dripped the weariness painted on his face.
“So? Is it true?”
“Uh…Yeah, Sad-”
“Sadly? On the contrary, I think it’s a good thing. A woman is made to found a home, and always obey her husband. I hope you won’t have a hard time regaining your pretty little waistline after your firstborn.”
So that was what probably awaited you. Becoming a housewife and answering to every whim of your husband, making him as many kids as he wanted. Just thinking about made you feel a vague nausea rising up again.
“And you think that everyone in the three clans has the same visions as you?”
“Let’s see…It’s either a Gojo, or a Kamo. He deduces with a mocking smile pulling at his lips. If it were a Zenin, I would have heard about it.”
“You haven’t answered my question.”
“My god…What a naughty impatience! Well then no, each one their own opinion of things. Even if you’d have less chances of stumbling across a “cool” guy if you went to the Kamos. Is it a Gojo?”
“Naoya,”you mark a short pause, clearly caught off guard by his deduction. “I’ll tell you when the time comes, for now, it’s…”You search for your words, fearing to let your emotions take control over you. “I still haven’t met him, that’s why I’m asking about how they are.”
He scrutinized you, his mouth thinning into a horizontal line, as though absorbed in his own thoughts. He pointed to a seat next to him with his chin, telling you to take place. Which you did once you took off your shoes. You sat as politely as possible, trying not to infringe the rules which you’ll probably be bound to follow by word. A maid brings in tea and sweets covered in matcha.
“I didn’t think you’d accept a…proposition like this. They put pressure on you, didn’t they?”
His question catches you unawares, it was true that every single time that he mentioned the subject of marriage and tradition, in the most satyric way possible, you’d reply that not everyone was meant for you, so it was easy to understand why such news would raise suspicions in him about the reason why you were forced to make this choice.
“Oh no…Not at all. It’s just that it’s better to be under the protection of someone this important, especially with a sister like mine…”
Speaking of the devil, you had just mentioned her that your phone buzzed, you received a simple “come back, we need you”. You let out a breath, locking your screen before throwing a guilty smile toward your interlocutor. However, with his index, Naoya pushes the plate of sweets toward you; another way to say that you weren’t going anywhere before gobbling up at least one candy. To be fairly honest, you were dying to do so! You reached out your little fingers toward the green squares, wrapped in tea powder. And before you could even quench your gustative desire, Naoya’s big hand closed around your wrist, monopolizing your whole attention. He draws his face close to yours, your bodies still separated by the table, before burying his gaze within yours, his eyes bearing an unusual solemnity.
“One word and I’ll have it cancelled.”
Your expression spontaneously tensed, eyebrows frowned and smile fading away. If there was anything you didn’t expect coming here, it was that Naoya, the traditionalist and fervent abolisher of women’s rights, would offer help in canceling a marriage. You couldn’t understand; and like each time when the why escaped you, you’d dig your heels in, imagining all the most perfidious motives. You tried to pull out of his grasp but in vain, he was a man after all. A man way too strong, who had the physical capacity to dominate you; what was the point of struggling?
“Thank you but I don’t need your help, I’m perfectly consenting. Now if you’d please let go, they’re waiting for me back home.”
The blondie tightened his grip on your wrist by way of warning; now that you had two people who were ready to ruin everything that you struggled to put in place. Part of you respected and admired these gestures. He and your sister were ready to intervene when they had nothing to gain -quite the opposite- only for your own good. But your choice was made. There was no going back, and you wished that they’d respect your decisions. It was hard enough already, you didn’t need someone trying to dissuade you at every turn.
You pulled one last time at your wrist which he finally released before pointing, one more time, to the plate. You yielded to temptation, before getting up under his wary gaze. He made you feel somewhat uneasy, like his eyes were piercing through your soul, reading you like an open book. His gaze drifted toward the gardens surrounding the building, before crossing his legs one over the other and linking the fingers of both hands. It was the « ultimatum » pose, and it bode nothing well.
“You have one week to tell me, or else I’ll provoke a scandal with the Gojo clan. We already don’t get along well, so I don’t think there’s anything to lose, at least not for me.”
These words alone were enough to instantly make you regret coming here, what the heck had gone into you? Since when did the oh so mighty Naoya Zenin ever become comprehensive? Never.
“It’s true, the only person that has anything to lose is me. Neither you nor him! I need this alliance, everyone isn’t born with a silver spoon in their mouth! The day when it will be decided that my sister is a-”
“If you needed protection, you could have told me directly” he cuts you off. “I don’t get why you’d rather beg for the help of a stranger. Well, I don’t really believe it.”
He lowers the palm of his hand on the table before getting up and walking in your direction, his imposing figure overshadowed yours while he look down on you, his gaze becoming heavier. Your feet moved by their own accord, backing away a bit.
You were about to try convincing him not to intervene; maybe even telling him the whole truth if coaxing him wouldn’t work; but your phone chose otherwise: another message from your sister ordering you to come back home. Your partner smiled at you while closing his eyes, before guiding you toward the exit, a hand on your back. You’d need a lot of courage and patience to clear up this situation. But for now, your sister’s insistence for your to return home was bothering you more than anything else, maybe something happened? Naoya could easily notice your worry and even though he didn’t say anything, he still ordered a driver to drop you at your door. Just when he was about to close the car’s door, he looked at you one more time in the eyes.
“One week.”
You sighed before nodding back, your surrender gave birth to little rictus on his face. He then signed to the driver that everything was good. You leaned your head against the windowpane at your right, staring at the moving landscape. What were you going to say and what were you going to not say? You had just discovered one facade that you’d never known of Naoya, and you weren’t sure where to stand. Maybe he was worried, if that was the case, you could be sure that he’d stir up the sky and earth to cancel the wedding, and that without you even being aware of it. Or maybe he just didn’t like the fact that the person whom he was closest to for the last four year could plan such important things without even consulting him beforehand. And he was twisted enough to be convinced that you must listen to him, drink and carry, to the letter, everything that he « strongly advised you » to do. You could only cross your fingers and hope that the second eventuality was false, otherwise the wheels were already in motion, and he’d do anything in his power to ruin this alliance, wether it was good or bad for you. All of a sudden, talking to him about it didn’t seem like a good idea at all; you already regretted it bitterly.
You thanked the adorable driver who had pulled you out of your hare-brained ideas by slipping historical anecdotes about some streets which you’d passed by, always keeping a wide smile over his face, which affected your mood and released your worries about what would happen to you. God, how you appreciated this type of people. You hurriedly inserted the keys in the door’s lock, almost tripping over yourself once inside. You called your mother then your father with a loud voice, almost screaming before rushing into the kitchen, still with your shoes on.
“My girl…What’s the matter? Did your friend do something to you?” Your mother asked with her sweet yet preoccupied voice.
She was behind the stove, a small squared apron tied around her waist. Everything seemed normal, why did Yuki urge you to come back? You still wore a confused face when your father walked in, breathless. He was probably sleeping when he heard the cries as you came back. You gently put your hand over your heart, before throwing yourself at your mother, tears in your eyes.
“Oh no, is it your boyfriend?”
You shook your head, but refused to pull away from her. Soon, you could feel a pair of arms around you followed by a crystalline laughter from your mother. A threesome hug, that was exactly what you needed. But the joy was short-lived, interrupted by the sharp ring of the bell, You asked your mother if she was expecting guests which she denied, adding that she didn’t even know who it could be; Yuki had already taken her keys.So you went and opened the door. Maybe you didn’t know who to expect but you also didn’t know who to not expect. You saw two people that you never met before. A woman and a man, most probably a couple, around the same age as your parents. They had white-grayish hair and light colored eyes. No word could come out of your mouth, captivated by the rare beauty and also captivated by the beauty of their clothes: kimonos, probably made of silk, that you’d never seen before in your life. You were dragged out of your thoughts by the woman who cleared her throat, before handing you a bouquet of white roses, a weak smile on her face.
“We…We are Gojo Satoru’s parents.”
Oh, so that was them. You stepped away and let them come in, showing them where the living room was. Which was useless since they had already visited the day before this, with a bouquet in hand; well, at least they changed the flowers. Lovely, you tell yourself, joining them while you were torn between to run away and kicking them out. And evidently, your parents were of the same opinion as you, given their expression. Your mother was no longer at ease, you even start wondering wether your mother-in-law’s smile didn’t hide bad news -or rather good-. You didn’t sit right away with them, instead offering a cup of tea which you got yourself ready to prepare before the cold authoritative stopped you.
“It won’t be necessary, my child. Please sit down.”
You did as you were told, the man’s tone having drained any desire to insist, even out of politeness. So you sit between your parents, an overjoyed expression glued over your face. You wondered how such a beautiful and sweet woman could spill so many lies during your absence.
“I don’t know from where to start…”She gently grabs onto the cloth covering her legs between her fists, clearly embarrassed. “My, I mean our son doesn’t emit any doubts toward the desire to make you his wife. However, we had a slight misunderstanding over the wedding date.”
“Misunderstanding?” All three of you asked at the same time.
“You see”…She continues.
In front of his wife’s inability to align three words next to each other, the husband decides to take the reins.
“Satoru decided to finish his studies before officially marrying you, I hope that it doesn’t inconvenience you.”
The four present heads watched you while waiting for a response. You couldn’t believe your ears, this was unreal! This didn’t fix the problem on a long term but you had just won five long years during which you’d have all the time in the world to get used to it. Maybe you could even make this marriage work; even crazier, maybe you could even talk to Gojo!
“What good news this is!”
The look on that your parents just gave you said a lot about the total confusion over the situation. To them, this morning only, you were delighted to marry this young man, and here you were right now, happy to see him postponing it by half a decade. Something was clearly wrong. The more minutes passed, the more you realized that both mother seemed t relax. Even though both worlds couldn’t grew any more apart, but they were both tied by something extremely strong. Both of them were ready to give anything for their children’s love. You stood there, like a spectator, listening to your future mother-in-law talking of her son’s achievements, talking about how smart, funny, cultivated and strong he was. And even if he was an independent person, she couldn’t help wanting the best for him. In a sense, it was kind of flattering. People that you knew nothing about, considered you as the most ultra dude in matters of marriage. Somewhat degrading, said like this, but still flattering. Then came the moment when they had to go, you walk them to the door, alone, as ordered by the madam. Just as you were about to close the door behind them, a delicate hand landed on your cheek. Its owner set her eyes on yours, a gaze filled with tenderness, love and…melancholy.
“I’m sorry to have inflicted such a thing on you… She draws closer to you before taking your arm, so that no one can hear. You have five years before you to refuse; in the opposite case, I offer you this.”
She puts a little box covered in blue velour in your hand, it was probably a jewel: a ring. You couldn’t understand at all, this woman was on your side? She seemed to know the pain of seeing her destiny forced, at least now you knew that there’d always be someone to support you there. On this, she walks away with her husband; a car awaited them next to your house. You give her one last sign of your hand, mouthing a little « thank you » before coming back inside.
“What a day…Where’s Yuki by the way?”
“I’m here to see Gojo, not you.”
“He’s not here, you can go. Answers dryly the director of the Kyoto establishment.”
Yuki rolled her eyes, exasperated. She almost forgot why she didn’t want anything to do with these people.
She had responsibilities toward her family, and as much as she could avoid them, there were moments where she could simply not stand by. She knew that Gojo liked her enough, they had something in common; that rebellious and reformative spirit , he too fought against the stupid traditions that a bunch of rotting mummies tried so hard to maintain in order to shut down a generation that was more and more conscious. So it was impossible that this decision came from him; and if it was the case, a good old fist would be enough to fix his thoughts back into place.
“Can you explain to me how he’s not here when I can clearly see his head over the window?”
She abruptly stands up from the couch on which she was sitting to land a bunch of hits on the glass, so that she can catch the attention of the concerned who chose to deliberately ignore her. Ok, that, she wouldn’t let it slide!
The blonde suddenly opens the windowpane before jumping out of it, good thing it was on the ground floor, before chasing after the exorcist.
“Hey there, easy now! You think you can hook up with my sister like that? Come back here, Gojo!”
He suddenly turns around toward her before pushing up his glasses, placing them over his head. She rarely saw his face this calm. He had dark circles under his eyes, it must have been a few nights since he last slept, and his smile, although emblematic, had disappeared.
“Excuse me,Ithink I can hook up with your sister? Are you sure it’s not the opposite? I was told that miss was more than overjoyed at the idea, so much so that it’s said you’re the one who came with it.”
“Sorry to break it to you like this but I had nothing to do with this, and she even less so. This whole thing is driving her crazy, they blackmailed her, you too I presume, given your face. How long has it been since you last slept? One? Two? Three days maybe?”
“Yuki…They’re forcing me to marry, me? I could never keep a girlfriend for one week, what do you want me to do with a…a wife! You can’t imagine my parents’ face, that’s all they’ve been waiting for, that reminds me, they’re on their way to spoil you with flowers and fine words.” He admits.
She was right from the beginning, Gojo, the son, wasn’t involved in this story at all. On the other hand, everyone would benefit in this story, except the two main actors. He was far from being reckless, and all that he did was in the interest of those he protected: his friends. With a wife, a woman that he’d see every day, every evening and with whom he’d probably have a kid; he’d almost be forced to develop feelings for her, be it love or simply a systematic need to protect his little family. Which would make him think twice before going against a decision coming from the top.
“I thought I’d noticed, they made a good impression at home. it’s said like you two make form the perfect couple.”
He lifted his eyes to the sky, clearly annoyed. However, it might have been just an impression, but these revelations that your sister made to him, seemed to calm him down a bit. He must have thought that Yuki betrayed him, while he fully trusted her.
“She doesn’t even answer my calls.”
“You don’t say! Listen, I’m going to be honest with you, she doesn’t want this either. Want to know why she accepted? She’s worried about our parents, I’m not the most appreciated person here, I think you know that already, and one of the reasons why I’m perpetually moving around is…I’m worried for them too. She didn’t say it clearly but-“
“They must have promised her that under the Gojo name, your family would be saved, right?”
“Bingo, young man. She could be your best ally, she thinks like me. Think wisely, this alliance is practically unavoidable; why not do things the right way?”
“Because I’m barely twenty!”
“And she’s barely nineteen, that’s not the prob-…Never mind, it is. Can you stall for time? That’s what both of you need.”
“And you want me to push this until when?” He asks, rather curious.
“Until you both find a solution in order not to kill each other from the first evening, ok? Listen, not that I don’t appreciate the company but I gotta go. I’m counting on you, just like you can count on me. I want to help you, don’t forget we’re talking about my sister here, and if something were to ever happen to her because of you…You know the rest!”
The blonde shakes her phone in his direction, telling him to call her in the evening for more details. She unlocks it then sends a simple text: « Come back, we need you. »
↳ Choices we’re bound to make in life don’t always turn out well, and you would have to learn that the hard way, maybe should you have listened to your sister when she tried to dissuade you from marrying a man that you didn’t know, as charming as he might seem.
“So you’re telling me that if, hypothetically, I accept marrying the infamous Gojo Satoru, my sister won’t have any more problems?”
It took you a moment to wrap your mind around what they just told you. From the top of your 19 years, you weren’t really conscious of the harsh truths surrounding you. You always thought that an exorcist’s holy grail was to be promoted to the special grade. What a surprise it was when you understood that it was but a means to keep in leash those considered too dangerous for the world.
Truth be told, from all that you’ve just been told, it was this one piece of news that hauled the biggest reaction out of you. Them, the upper class of crimes from the top of their seats, couldn’t see things from your point of view. Yuki was your big sister, your model, your family, your blood. How could they paint her into a person to be wary of, she who taught you everything, who made you the exorcist that you are today.
“Well…Tsukumo Yuki is a head to shoot down, you should be aware of that”says a voice that’s hard for you to identify. “It would be better for you and your family to be protected by the name of the most powerful exorcist, don’t you think?”
Thinking correctly was an arduous task for you, the placid flow that was your daily life would never be the same again starting today. Because even if the elders, like you liked calling them, feigned kindness, pretending that they only wanted the best for you; you could easily perceive a menacing aura hovering over your head.
You raised your head toward your interlocutors: the counsel. Their faces were hidden under some kind of curtain, cutting short any tentative to read their expressions and decipher their true intentions. Spinning from left to right, looking up and down at the white fabric, you try putting on a serene air before inhaling deeply.
“You’re telling me that my sister is a danger, but you want me to marry a man that’s even more dangerous than her? You want me to throw myself in the arms of a man that’s considered a weapon of mass destruction…I don’t believe a single word of”- you were cut short by an outcry of offended voices that you refuse to bend like a tree against the wind to their inquisitions.
“You would be perfect for him with this attitude of yours.”
“We were just discussing your eventual promotion to the special grade” continues another, hiding a threat.
If even an ounce of doubt was still lingering within you, then it has surely dissipated now. The choice offered to you was clear: accept and give up your freedom to the goodness of a perfect stranger. Or refuse and put into peril that which you cherished the most.
Youu are a smart girl, often solicited for your capacity to react swiftly, considering in no time everything that could and could not turn badly, making you a more than precious ally on the field. But in this moment right here, the cogs of your mind started to rust, unable to put one idea before another, plunging you in a frightening lethargy. You needed time to understand, and you could feel that you were short of it. You were being manipulated, for god knows what reason, and it seemed like you had nothing else to say back.
“Well then, you reply. I’ll inform you of my decision as soon as possible.”
“Tomorrow.”cuts off a crackling feminine voice, hinting at the age of its owner.
You shake your head slowly from left to right, hoping that it would, maybe, pull you out of this phantasmagory of which you’re the actress. You felt your fists tighten, canalizing your emotions in a way that would prevent you from spilling words that would cost you more than you could afford to lose. You slowly turn your heels, without answering, without a last glance and before you could even realize it, your legs were leading you far from this place, leaving behind a pack of hounds debating on wether you would accept or not. Your fate was sealed, the film of your nightmare starting to smoothly untangle in front of your eyes.
Once outside, you turn around toward the building that sheltered the counsel. From here, it looked like a little hut in the middle of a forest, protected -or rather camouflaged by a barrier set by master Tengen. You slowly lean against one of the surrounding trees, letting your head fall against the trunk and granting your eyes some rest. What were you going to do? Your parents weren’t young anymore, you were the only one left in the household. Everything always depended on you, on your missions, on your presence; your house was pulled out of the gloominess that was the daily life of exorcists, thanks to your jokes, your goofiness, your clumsiness, your anectodes. You didn’t come back home grumbling anymore -because a certain Zenin would forget too often that you weren’t his maid, you didn’t come back home from your outings with Utahime. Now that you thought about it, wasn’t it actually him that made her grumble?
A little smile pulled at the corner of your lips, you knew that Gojo had a reputation as an inveterate seducer, and for having seen him before, you could easily understand why. How many women would be ready to sell their souls to the devil to be in your place? You knew it, you knew damn well, and yet a little pinch at your heart prevented you from seeing even an infinitesimal gleam within what was just announced to you.
You were pulled out of your reflections by stepping noises in the grass, getting closer and closer to you. You slowly turn your head in the direction of the sound to see a slender silhouette, blond, a helmet under their arm.
“So, what kind of mission did they try to slap on you? Saving the world from an extraterrestrial creature? Bringing back a piece of the moon? Or maybe…put off a fire on Mars! More seriously, these people here can be total nuts sometimes!”
“I’m going to get married.”
Yuki froze for a few seconds, seconds that felt like hours to you, before going into a hysterical laughter, not imagining for one second that what you just said could contain even an ounce of truth. But her laugh soon let place to worry when she saw your expression flinching, crying at her that it was absolutely not a joke.
“Oh no…They wouldn’t dare. She said. And with who? The pope’s son?”
“Gojo Satoru.”
“Gojo Satoru?”
“Gojo Satoru.”
“I heard you the first time, you know. But…how? Why him? If he wanted to marry you he would simple have told me instead of going through a bunch of old decrepit. Also, last time I checked, he didn’t really like them. And since when do you two know each other?”
The look you just threw at your sister answered her questions quick enough. You didn’t personally know him, and you knew absolutely nothing of the circumstances that led to this decision. The only thing that you could be sure of was that one way or another, people, whoever they were, had something to gain from you being married, or that Gojo was. You never represented any danger to anyone, you were subordinate, you never disputed orders and you were useful in what you did, there was no apparent reason for you to make a U-turn. However, you couldn’t say as much for Gojo, something indirectly confirmed by your sister’s words. He was probably becoming uncontrollable, rebelling and challenging the word of people who always had, for very long years, their hands wrapped around the decisions of this world. But what’s a marriage, with a girl who didn’t even come from a notorious family, going to change? That was what you couldn’t get.
“In my opinion, he’s probably unaware of this. Gojo isn’t the type to…you know, commit. I don’t think it’s serious.”
“They didn’t look like they were joking.”
“You should talk to him-“
“No, absolutely not. If these people want to play marriage agencies then they might as well carry it to the end.” You replied, seeming way too indifferent about the situation. Yuki was even wondering if you were aware of what was expected of you.
You didn’t want to meet him, and even if you were to accept it, you would only see him once it was inevitable: your honeymoon. For now, it was just hot air, nothing serious. Or at least it won’t be unless you give your final answer. Meeting him would make things too official, and that scared you.
“Listen, we’ll talk about this at home. Or around a drink, look at that! My lil’ sis is now of drinking age.”
Yuki extends her hand toward you, caressing your forearm with the tip of her fingers. Maybe one day, you won’t get the privilege to any of this tenderness, this affection. Reality was catching up to you, and with it a river of tears comes surging, reddening your eyes. You weren’t ready for all of this, you weren’t even twenty and yet you were stripped of all that was yours. Your sister notices that, then pulls you against her, your head barely reaching the space between her throat and shoulder. Your cheek was plastered against her skin in such an intimate contact that you could easily feel her beating heart. Her carotid rhythmically pulsing the blood, beating against you, following a calm and regular rhythm whereas your heart slowly started to race. Maybe your body’s reaction was quicker than your mind, was that a sign? Was it mother nature yelling at you to run before it was too late ?
A warm and gentle hand pulls you out of your thoughts as it lodges in your hair, caressing it from the top to the tips in the same steady timing. Now that you think of it, Yuki has always been a very steady person in her actions. It made you think about the way that people imagined her, and how they could be so wrong. To them, she was a reckless woman, an adult child, a person in possession of great power over which she’d never take responsibility. But you, you knew that it wasn’t her. Yuki never left anything to chance, each calorie she spent was calculated, consumed in a specific goal. And even if she never had been clear on the reasons which led her to take off, claiming an untamable desire to discover the world, you knew, deep down, that there was something she was trying to hide from the world.
“It’d be best if we went back home, I need to announce all of this to mom and dad.”
“What are you planning to do?” She asked while leading you toward the bike.
“I don’t know, I have until tomorrow to give them an answer on what might be the most important decision in my whole life, these guys are insane!”
You abruptly lift your arm in the air, showcasing your frustration, which can only make the blondie laugh as she puts a helmet over your head, covering your eyes along the way, stretching along with it your lips into a little rictus whilst you climb behind her on the motorbike.
As per usual, whenever you ride together, you’d pinch her sides from time to time, and she’d answer with a grumble even if it didn’t bother her; a bunch of little habits that made up your intimacy and complicity with her.
Once home, Yuki turns off the motor but decides against coming down right away. Instead, she puts one foot on the ground to maintain her stance then bares her head, letting the wind play with her blonde mane. She stays there, frozen for a moment, before sighing, searching for the best words, which was totally unlike her.
“I have a little idea on what they’ll tell you, keep your chin up. If you don’t want to then you don’t want to.”
You simply nod your head before putting your hand on the door’s handle, taking a deep inhale. You were going to need some courage as to not spill everything you were told; your parents didn’t need to know what was being said about Yuki. They were proud of her, and never worried about her. As long as it lasts.
You had barely taken off your shoes that your mother already threw herself at you, hugging you to the verge of tears. Your eldest threw a confused look at you while your father came close with a bouquet in hands.
“You should have told us that you had a boyfriend! His family came straight from Tokyo to announce the news.”
You almost choked as you heard what they just said, you had no boyfriend. Your mind immediately imagined a bad joke orchestrated by Naoya in order to embarrass you, knowing all the discipline you showed in front of your family. Or to simply, or rather in the most perverted manner, remind you tha what was expected of a woman was to found a home and then toward the kitchen. But Naoya wasn’t from Tokyo, his family wasn’t either. Could it be that…
“Gojo! Your mother articulates between two sobs. The name would fit you so well! Your dad is right, you should have told us. You can imagine our surprise when we saw them at the door! They look incredibly kind.”
“And rich!”
“Dad! Come on…Yuki throws in.”
Him and your mother exchanged a little knowing smile, while you and your sister tried to stay cool before this revelation, this name resonating like a gong between your ears.
You let yourself get dragged to the living room while your mind wandered somewhere else, at the bottom of a trench in your head. You, who had always risked your life for this society, were nothing more than a marionette to his eyes. Alright, one shouldn’t generalize, nor put the blame on people you knew neither by identity nor by face. You knew perfectly well, but can you not hate the whole world when you were being manipulated without scruples. You threw a look full of reproach toward your sister who, just earlier, was trying to convince you that Satoru had nothing to do with this story. She simply shrugged her shoulders, not knowing what to say.
“So, what did you tell them exactly?” Your sister asked while she sitting on a chair, facing the backrest, legs spread open.
“Well, we told them that the final word was in the hands of the involved party. They can’t wait to meet you, your boyfriend must have told them a lot of good things about you for them to come all the way here.” Your mother throws in her supposition while sitting beside you on the sofa with you resting your head on her shoulder, almost unconsciously, gaze lost faraway.
“I don’t doubt it for even a second.” Sarcasm dripping from your words.
“The Gojo clan is a very traditional family, I’m surprised they accepted that their son, who is the little star of the circus, would welcome someone like her within his family: a commoner. They said nothing about this?” Yuki wonders aloud, she clearly had an idea cooking.
“Oh, right they mentioned this problem, at first they weren’t thrilled by the idea, and then the power of love convinced them. Isn’t that cute?. She replied.
This whole farce was breaking your heart. You never saw your mother so happy, her eyes gleaming, her facial muscles were probably paining her from all this smiling. She had lost the hope to one day see her first daughter have a stable life, a husband, children…all of this wasn’t for Yuki. She had then, maybe, unconsciously repressed all of her hopes of seeing a family growing on you. You wanted to tell her the truth, to tell her that all of this was a lie, that this man wasn’t what he seemed to be; spitting out all that the counsel had revealed to you. But you could simply not move your lips.You father waved the bouquet of flowers your way to catch your attention. His face was a tad bit red, he probably didn’t expect things to go this way, he must have been both embarrassed and honored that people from such a good family would come knock at their door. You even started wondering at what moment exactly did they manage to make you forget that your life wasn’t marrying a rich heir, or a renowned exorcist. Apparently, in your case, it was a perfect mix of the two.
“I suppose that you’re going to accept?”
« Do I really have a choice » was what you wanted to respond. You felt the heavy gaze of your sister weighing down on you, a gaze that yelled at you to say no and to make yourself, for once in your dam life, come first before others. But she knew you you well enough to know that if she meddled in, you’d probably never forgive her. So you did what you could do best, always reproducing the same pattern.
“Of course, why would I refuse?”You replied, trying to look as happy and content as you could.
Your choice was made, your fate forever tied to that of the most powerful exorcist in the world. You felt like you had, with your own hands, written the your name to the pantheon of cowards by giving the right to perfect strangers to decide of your life, to write the lines of a romance that you’ll probably never know.
You smiled, feigning some kind of distorted happiness while your heart was torn inside your chest. You were hurting yourself, destroying yourself with your own hands. Your father noticed your uneasiness through your facade then asked you what was wrong. You answered simply that your day had been extremely long and that the news of this marriage proposal had moved you. You kiss your mother’s forehead one last time before retiring to your room, letting your sister take care of keeping them company, and hearing them throw roses at the Gojo clan.
Once confined in your intimacy, you finally let yourself crumble down. You no longer held in the tears that are currently flowing down your cheeks. You unconsciously brought your hand to your heart, grasping tightly in your fist as much flesh as you could hold. You never felt such intense pain in your life. Your heart was in pieces, and every second that passed weighed on your conscience, your honor tarnished, yourself neglected, and your life spoiled, without even knowing why. One thing was sure, you’d never forgive Gojo Satoru for having ruined your life.
You made the choice of marrying him. But you also chose to make him regret, till your last breath, to have imposed himself in your life.
Warnings : unrequited love, arranged marriage, manipulation, minor character’s death, and more to add. Read with proper discretion < 3
↳ Choices we’re bound to make in life don’t always turn out well, and you would have to learn that the hard way, maybe should you have listened to your sister when she tried to dissuade you from marrying a man that you didn’t know, as charming as he might seem.
Sooooo, yeah. I’ve been rooting for gojo for a while now and this kinda happened. Your feedbacks really help me through the whole process so please feel free to empty your mind, I’m always receptive. Also, big thank you to @tawus who has been adamant on giving the greatest pieces of advice, ily girl <3
Overall thank you for reading, and I hope you’re enjoying reading as much as I’m enjoying writing the story !!
First written in French, translated by the amazing @deadpanap
↳ Choices we’re bound to make in life don’t always turn out well, and you would have to learn that the hard way, maybe should you have listened to your sister when she tried to dissuade you from marrying a man that you didn’t know, as charming as he might seem.
“You know damn well that you don’t have to do this, lil’ sis. The trips, running away from missions, all of that, I like it! You should stop listening to each and every word our parents say” says your eldest, leaning by the doorframe of the room that used to be yours for twenty long years.
“Yuki…I’m not worried about you, they’re in danger too. Every person that’s cross with you would know exactly where to hit, I’m sure that just the name alone -Gojo- would be enough to dissuade them. It’s just a wedding, an alliance, also he doesn’t seem all that terrible; we might hit it off.”
With this, you close your luggage. You hadn’t decided to bring much with you: some clothes, photos of your family and some of your friends. You never had any attachment, living your life as though you were its omniscient narrator: so present yet so far away. That was part of the reason why you couldn’t see this marriage as a drama anymore , you didn’t intend to make any emotional investment. You would promise faithfulness, obedience and descendants to your spouse, in exchange he would offer you protection and safety. It was as though life was offering you a chance to live a fairy tale.
However, the choices that we’re led to make in life don’t always turn out well, and you would have to learn that the hard way. Finally, maybe you should have listened to your sister when she tried to dissuade you from marrying a man that you didn’t know, as charming as he might seem. Maybe you shouldn’t have underestimated your marital responsibilities.
Because after all, the most beautiful tales are those with the most tragic endings.
/…fluff, cuddles, satoru got a large sweater for you to slip underneath and cuddle
Playing with Suguru’s hair as he lays his head on your stomach. His chest resting on your legs, while you sit on Satoru’s lap. You twirl a long strand of Suguru’s hair which is reaching his butt.
Bits of Suguru’s large tattoo if half decayed dragon show through his long hair. And he shivers when you trail your fingertips along the inky lines. You open your mouth expectantly right before Satoru touches the tip of a chocolate covers strawberry to your lips.
Suguru slowly pushes himself up, making your hand slid up his toned back to his broad shoulder. As he looks up at you, you tuck long strands of his hair that hang in his face behind his ear while he says, “Must the two of you always bring out the large oversized cuddle sweater?”
Satoru grabs another strawberry and holds it out to Suguru as he says, “I think Suga is jealous that I have your skin pressed on mine and I get to hold you closer.” Suguru grabs Satoru’s wrist and softly bites into the fruity sweet being offered to him.
You lean down to kiss Suguru’s forehead before twisting in the large sweater to kiss Satoru’s cheek. While he reaches for another strawberry off the sidetable pushed in front of the sofa for easier access to the plethora of sweats Satoru brought home.
Suguru’s scoffs, “Please, she would slip out and come cuddle me without the sweater if I asked.” He leans in and gives you a sweet, slow chocolate flavored kiss. Before he pulls away and kisses your nose, as he slips his hand under the sweater to softly message your soft belly, which is one of his favorite parts to lie on.
Suguru pulls away and grabs a small cookie as you suggest, “Or we can get a bigger sweater for Suguru to fit.” Satoru underneath you jolts with excitement and he goes,
“Mmmm!” before he swallows his food and finishes by saying, “this is why we married this woman.”
Suguru smiles up at Satoru and then looks down at you, the two people in this world that keep his head on his shoulder and make him forget about the workday. Your soft smile, and warm eyes, alongside Satoru’s large goofy grin and being able to see his bright blue eyes after he had his blindfold on all day.
Suguru wants underneath the sweater, but he didn’t want to admit it, so he says,“We could just wrap a blanket around the three of us.” Satoru slides his hand down your side softly squeezing every time his hand drops, going down to your hips before sliding his hand back up. They always gave the best cuddles.
✧･ﾟ: * Content ~ More pretty boys being blushy, what else is there? ~
✧･ﾟ: * Type ~ Fluff, Short Headcanons ~
✧･ﾟ: * Author’s Note ~ I saw this post and I’ve been rolling on this ever since,,,, they’re all so pretty help~
❈ Gojo could be a model, and he knows it. With the violin scene, he knows how to play up the pretty when it helps him, so this may as well be a normal pet name for him. He still loves it every time you call him pretty though.
❈ Nanami though, if the two of you are with Gojo, will also think you’re referring to six eyes over there. Even if you’re alone, it’d catch him off guard. So, you will have to clarify that you mean him. And then you have a blushing mess, yet somehow also smug, salaryman heading your way willing to do anything you’d like.
❈ When he realized you meant him, Inumaki would follow you around like a puppy for the rest of the day. You don’t need to use cursed speech for him to do what you want, he’s wrapped around your finger and calling him pretty is the trigger.
❈ Megumi would look deadpan as he came over, he’s not the most public about romance, so he’d try to play it off as if you only called him by name. But he’s definitely thinking about it the rest of the day.
❈ Yuta would be the rest of the meme. “Oh, I’m pretty boy?” He’s floored, and would absolutely shower you with compliments in return.
❈ Junpei would be stunned. Shocked. You better have called him pretty soon after him having shown you his scars too. If it’s soon enough after, he might actually tear up a little, but would come as soon as he can.
❈ Itadori would light up the second you called him pretty, and would absolutely fire back a “Anything you need, stunning” while on his way, and once again, you have a puppy on your trail.
I had an idea for a NSFW post about Gojo vs Nanami but then as I started writing it I had so many thoughts about it so it’s actually going to be a three part post.
Edit: the more I’m writing I’m having even more ideas so I’m trying to think of a way of formating it without it turning into a mess
written with my post-vaccine brain so judge me all you want :)
Did my breast get bigger? Looking at the mirror you gave your in front a thorough look, checking on every nook and cranny that somehow changes on your body. Gazing yourself, especially your breast intently in a full view mirror gives you a mixed feeling of dazed and confused.
“Was it really bigger? That can’t be.” You were not sure if you are seeing right but you think your breast got bigger compared to before. Given the fact that you need to use an extender now to hook your bra properly, the cup too came in useless because they aren’t covering much of your soul. Furthermore, the underwires were cutting quite a bit of your meat, leaving your skin itchy and sore. Still befuddled by the new changes you are seeing, you turned your body around to ask your boyfriend for his opinion.
“Hey, babe did my breast get bigger?” Your boyfriend-Gojo was laying down on your bed with his long slim legs on top of the other busy going through his phone when he detached it to look at you.
“Come again, sweetie?” You turned your body around facing him completely before you pushed your breast upwards while looking at him straight in the eye.
“I was just wondering if my breasts got bigger? What do you think? Did they get bigger?”
Gojo folded his arms around his chest, grin painted all over his face, blue eyes raking up on your body up and down. Liips drenched from all his licking before he situated his orbs on your breast boldly undressing you with a mere look.
“Yes baby, your breast certainly got bigger. And I did that to you so you should thank me for it.” Proud of his so-called achievement Gojo strolled towards you, a winning smile covering the entirety of his mouth, he grabbed your breast molding it with his palms like his own art piece.
“So you say baby, don’t you think I need a reward or something?” Tonic with his touch, you decided to play it off and get along with his sultry look, sultry voice, and sultry intention.
“Like what, gojo?” You know what he wants to do and you want to do it for him so you push yourself forward. Letting him feel your roundness on his chest.
“Like a boob job, sweetie. My cock pulsating between your breasts while I spill my cum all over your face. That’s only fair for saving you the money you could have used in a breast implant right?.” Defeated from gojo’s blatant discourse you decided to provide him the deed. He worked too hard to make this breast of your own, so he should definitely try how it works right?
— this man is literally a menace. if he finds out that you’re in your period, he would totally and utterly piss you off. he never fears death, but deaths do.
he saw you hugging the pillow and gripping the bedsheets due to the pain you’re experiencing at the moment, he went near you abd comforted you. the moment he has his hands on your waist, he laughed, “if i squeeze you like this,” he squeezed your waist, “you’re like a human ketchup,” his voice was so normal, no laughing, just a normal voice.
you slammed the pillow on his face, “if you’re here to piss me off, go sleep in the couch! i ain’t sleeping with a useless boyfriend.” You said in an angry tone.
But in the end, he took care of you, and cuddled you when you were asleep.
— he may be not affectione in the outside due to the endless teasing he got from both of your peers, megumi doesn’t want to be disturbed whenever you two had an alone time. To his luck, your period started on both your your day off from missions. He really takes care of you. It was his duty after all as your loving boyfriend.
“‘gumi..” you lowly said in a soft tone.
he shited his eyes in you, “did tge pain go away?” He asked. You shook your head slowly, “i need cuddles.”
“But the pain y/n-”
“pretty please?”
from the cute voice you had, made him closed his book and cuddled you, “is this better?”
“better than ever, thanks 'gumi..”
“hmm, you’re welcome.”
— we love life and life is yuuji. he’s realkya sweet boyfriend despite getting ruined because if sukuna in him. but besides taht, he really did his best! the time you got your monthly period, he was right there with you, he even cooked you his meatball recipe just make you feel better.
“Mhmm! this really tastes good!” You said while muching the meatball. You took another bite, bht instead, you choked. yuuji immediately grabbed the water bottle and gave it to you.
'i was hoping you could choke and die.’
a dark voice popped ot right under his eye, yuuji slapped it but instead, he was too late and ended up slapping himself. Youblet out a giggle, “sukuna is so bitter, did he have a past lover when he was a human?”
'shut your mouth you lowly human, i have no time when i will slash your head off.’
— no questions needed for him. he was already a husband material what can we say. For the rarest time of his life, he took a day off. knowing him, he was a very hard-working mab who follows the rules and hates overtime. Just like megumi, he has his responsibility as a boyfriend to take care of his lover.
he prepared everything: heat bag, blankets, pillows, favorite snack, and himself. he would massage you scalp until you have fallen asleep. and sometimes, you and him will watch sonething on netflix, whether its your favorite show or the show that you both planned to watch together. even though no words were exchanged throughout the time, his actions are enough to tell you that he really cares for you.
“i love you, kento.
"i love you too.”
— being in a long distance, was quite hard for the both of you. he craves your touch, your whispers, and you overall. but things may have a problem when you had your perioid. he kelt call you, texting you constanly if you’re any feeling better.
He called you many times that you lost count.
“y/n! Make sure to take your vitamins and pain killers okay?”
“I will yuuta, trust me, i’ll be fi— crap crap cramps.”
and that’s whenhe get started to worry about you. “are you okay? Take a rest y/n, oh ny god, sleep, take a rest!”
“Im okay yuuta, don’t worry about me. this literally happens every month,” you reassured him. It was cute of him, worrying about you. Even though you can see him, but he was pouting, “i jut want you yo be safe that’s all”, he replied.
“When you comeback here, we’ll go on dates. promise?”
— this man is literally a menace. if he finds out that you’re in your period, he would totally and utterly piss you off. he never fears death, but deaths do.
he saw you hugging the pillow and gripping the bedsheets due to the pain you’re experiencing at the moment, he went near you abd comforted you. the moment he has his hands on your waist, he laughed, “if i squeeze you like this,” he squeezed your waist, “you’re like a human ketchup,” his voice was so normal, no laughing, just a normal voice.
you slammed the pillow on his face, “if you’re here to piss me off, go sleep in the couch! i ain’t sleeping with a useless boyfriend.” You said in an angry tone.
But in the end, he took care of you, and cuddled you when you were asleep.
— he may be not affectione in the outside due to the endless teasing he got from both of your peers, megumi doesn’t want to be disturbed whenever you two had an alone time. To his luck, your period started on both your your day off from missions. He really takes care of you. It was his duty after all as your loving boyfriend.
“‘gumi..” you lowly said in a soft tone.
he shited his eyes in you, “did tge pain go away?” He asked. You shook your head slowly, “i need cuddles.”
“But the pain y/n-”
“pretty please?”
from the cute voice you had, made him closed his book and cuddled you, “is this better?”
“better than ever, thanks 'gumi..”
“hmm, you’re welcome.”
— we love life and life is yuuji. he’s realkya sweet boyfriend despite getting ruined because if sukuna in him. but besides taht, he really did his best! the time you got your monthly period, he was right there with you, he even cooked you his meatball recipe just make you feel better.
“Mhmm! this really tastes good!” You said while muching the meatball. You took another bite, bht instead, you choked. yuuji immediately grabbed the water bottle and gave it to you.
'i was hoping you could choke and die.’
a dark voice popped ot right under his eye, yuuji slapped it but instead, he was too late and ended up slapping himself. Youblet out a giggle, “sukuna is so bitter, did he have a past lover when he was a human?”
'shut your mouth you lowly human, i have no time when i will slash your head off.’
— no questions needed for him. he was already a husband material what can we say. For the rarest time of his life, he took a day off. knowing him, he was a very hard-working mab who follows the rules and hates overtime. Just like megumi, he has his responsibility as a boyfriend to take care of his lover.
he prepared everything: heat bag, blankets, pillows, favorite snack, and himself. he would massage you scalp until you have fallen asleep. and sometimes, you and him will watch sonething on netflix, whether its your favorite show or the show that you both planned to watch together. even though no words were exchanged throughout the time, his actions are enough to tell you that he really cares for you.
“i love you, kento.
"i love you too.”
— being in a long distance, was quite hard for the both of you. he craves your touch, your whispers, and you overall. but things may have a problem when you had your perioid. he kelt call you, texting you constanly if you’re any feeling better.
He called you many times that you lost count.
“y/n! Make sure to take your vitamins and pain killers okay?”
“I will yuuta, trust me, i’ll be fi— crap crap cramps.”
and that’s whenhe get started to worry about you. “are you okay? Take a rest y/n, oh ny god, sleep, take a rest!”
“Im okay yuuta, don’t worry about me. this literally happens every month,” you reassured him. It was cute of him, worrying about you. Even though you can see him, but he was pouting, “i jut want you yo be safe that’s all”, he replied.
“When you comeback here, we’ll go on dates. promise?”
Despite what people may think about Gojo being a confident womanizer, I think it’s the exact opposite.
He has the biggest crush on you and like has no idea how to express it so he is blushing around you ALL THE TIME. like the moment you come close to him to grab the sticky notes from his desk or ask him a question with those sexy, doe eyes glaring up at him, he’s so red and his body feels like it’s on fire.
There’s obviously something between you two but he’ll never act on it and would never think someone like you would return such feelings so when you come into his classroom and demand a date, he’s all like:
“Why? I’m a workoholic, virgin who never has time for himself let alone a woman and has no idea how to even date.”
“I’ll have to show you then, I’m a good kisser too.” He can’t help but catch the small amount of cleavage that slips past your teaching uniform and shamelessly blushes as you catch him. “Pick me up at 7, ‘Toru.”
His breath catches in his throat as his cheeks turn crimson, this of his fingers ghosting over his lips at the thought of touching yours as he watches you walk away. As he also realizes the cute little nickname, his skin is sweet further ablaze and suddenly his pants feel tighter.
“Sad,” Gojo mumbles under his breath, a hand ruffling at his hair as the other pulls the blind fold off as he sinks to his knees in front of you.
Long, slender fingers touch the bare skin of your legs. Gentle as they slide against the smooth skin, over the prominence of your knee cap and divots above it until they settle at the hem of the flowy skirt.
Gojo’s flirty fingers dip under the material to feel the edge of your panties with a groan, taking a small peak underneath, “So cute.”
He’s leaning closer and closer and right when you’re thinking he’s going lay his head on your lap - well he is but lifts your skirt up and tucks his head under it. You rolls your eyes as he cups both of your thighs, wrapping his arms under them. “Much better.”
His head forms a rounded bulge under your skirt, features and hair completely covered as you feel his hot breath against your inner thigh.
