chrasilla



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  1. Public Bookmark *

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    "Let’s make a bet. One lesson, my way," Satoru purred in a voice that oozed confidence. "This Saturday. If you truly, honestly, deep-in-your-soul hate it... I’ll pay the full bar tab for an entire month. But if you don’t hate it…"

    It was a frankly outrageous amount of money he was offering. Suguru's voice was cautious, suspicious, but he was interested. "If I don't hate it?"

    "You have dinner with me," Satoru said, a grin beginning to stretch across his face. "I'll take you to that good shabu-shabu place up the street. My treat."

    Satoru is a former pro-skier working as an instructor after a career-ending injury. Suguru is a cute local bartender who wants nothing to do with the mountain and seems immune to his usual unwavering charm. Undeterred, Satoru makes it his personal mission to sneak past Suguru's reserved exterior, even if the guy can't ski to save his life.

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    29 May 2026

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    “Satoru… are you… into this?”

    “Fuck off, so what if I am?” He slapped Geto’s hands away and shuffled to the opposite end of the couch, curling himself up around a pillow.

    “You’re really into this?” A smug grin began to spread across Geto’s face. His hands trailed to Gojo’s hips, wriggling a hand into his shorts. Gojo yelped, trying to kick him off, but eventually melting into the touch. He turned his burning face away as Geto’s hands dug under his soaked panties, feeling the evidence of his arousal. “You want me to be like that guy in the movie? Rip all your clothes off and force your pretty legs apart?”

    Or: Gojo goes to a fearfarm and gets humbled.

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    1/1
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    15 May 2026

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    “wow, so you really don't care that we’ll be forty and creaking while the other parents are young and chasing their kid around the playground? that we’ll have wrinkles and paperwork while they go to the waterpark and beaches?” gojo cries out, his voice as dramatic as a just-cracked, fifteen-year-old's can be.

    “satoru -”

    “no, no,” gojo cuts him off, impassioned. geto can’t figure out what fraction of this tirade is acting and what is genuine. he suspects the two of those things are closely entwined. “just say that you don't care whether our child has sexy, likable parents or not. just tell me why you don't love our child, suguru?”

    “i -” gojo is about to step away, rolling his eyes, when geto grabs his wrist. without resistance, gojo lets himself be pulled back, a twinkle in his eye suggesting his knowledge of his triumph.

    “yes?”

    “thirty five.”

    *
    the one where twelve-year-old gojo and geto make a backup marriage pact for forty, but as they grow up, somehow the threshold keeps falling.

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    15 May 2026

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    “Okay,” Utahime says, massaging her temples, “you know what?”

    “No.” Satoru says, and stares at the DM from Suguru so hard his vision starts to blur.

    “Gojo Satoru.” She snaps her fingers in front of his face, disturbing his hyper-locked in view of the phone screen, and he blinks, the world coming back into focus.

    “Huh?” He says.

    “Okay, I have known you since you were, what? Twelve? Thirteen?”

    Satoru makes an iffy sort of hand gesture. It was somewhere around there, who knows really. He can’t remember all that.

    “Okay, so I say this with the full weight of well over a decade of…” She pauses, thinking.

    “Friendship.” He supplies, nodding.

    She stares at him dead-eyed.

    “Acquaintanceship?” He tries, failing to stop the pout.

    “Proximity.” She decides firmly.

    Language:
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    13 May 2026

  5. Public Bookmark *

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    “Suguru,” a voice that sends him into a feverish state, like it’s his body’s muscle memory, “holding my hand after telling me we can’t be friends? How forward.”

    Suguru turns on his stool and stares, heart all broken open. He’s too tipsy and filled with too much want, all spilling out from him, something no timed smoking break can contain. When did it ever? All his careful lies, all the rules he has lived by, tumble down inside him when he meets Gojo Satoru’s eyes again for the first time in almost two years. It feels like the first breath he has taken in a very very long time.

    “Oh,” Suguru manages, vision swimming with cerulean and snow white, “there you are.”

    Gojo smiles at him, smirks at him, and a crashing wave of sense memory washes over Suguru at the sight.

    “Here I am.” Gojo agrees easily, slides onto the stool in front of Suguru, eyes gleaming. He doesn’t let go of Suguru’s hand, just plays with his fingers as he leans in close, a faint scent of amaretto and something citrus. “Now,” he murmurs, taps his foot against Suguru’s gently, “what are you going to do about it this time, hmm?”

    Language:
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    11 May 2026