#and I don’t think manga would do me like this either | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tonycries · 6 months ago

Text

Unmistakably Yours - G.S.

Synopsis. In which the strongest bends space and time - literally - after coming back from deatḣ, to do what he’s always wanted to do - you.

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, best friends to lovers, Satoru goes a little (very) INSANE, oral (fem receiving), fíngering, manga spoilers, use of jujutsu powers, unprotected, créampie, spitting, overstim, féral Satoru, heinous things, happy ending, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 4.5k

A/N. Yeahhh that poll was cooking up something devious heheh. Gege give me back my man.

Gojo Satoru was going to kill someone.

He was going to kill someone and it didn’t matter who. It didn’t matter how. It didn’t even matter if he had to haul his broken body - scarred and barely-healed - out of this stiff infirmary bed, because the great Gojo Satoru awoke and the world shook.

Because you weren’t here.

“Ah. The oh-so deadest one, I see you’re awake.” Satoru flinches at the sharp, exhausted drawl from his left.

Slowly, he blinks away the haze in his aching eyes, desperately trying to adjust to the cold room. Shoko’s voice was too loud. The lights too bright. His waiting arms too empty - where were you?

With a low hiss, Satoru’s body is moving before his mind, sitting up like a man possessed. Goosebumps prickle his skin as the thin blanket falls off his shoulders. Temples throbbing because the world was spinning and spinning and you-

“Calm down, Satoru.” Shoko sounds almost panicked now - as much as she could, anyway. Uselessly trying to push him back onto the mattress. “I don’t care if you’re the ‘strongest’. Sukuna did a number on you and you have to rest-”

“Where is she?”

---

It was the final nail on your coffin - that slight, steady rumble beneath your feet. So fleeting that you’d written it off as your weary brain, too goddamn tired from today. Heaving out a sigh, you rub your eyes in frustration, so fucking alone in this too-large penthouse.

Fingers jittery, you rifle through your best friend’s closet for his box of blindfolds, because you knew he’d be complaining about the sensory overload at the infirmary if- when he woke up. Though, you think that was more an excuse for Shoko to send your wrecked self away than anything.

Grabbing a few more than necessary, your heart lurches as you eye that dusty framed photo by his bedside. A much younger Satoru, Suguru, Shoko, and you - probably the last time any of you smiled so carelessly.

One dead and the other just on the cusp of it.

He’ll be okay. He’ll be okay. He’ll be okay. He’s the strongest, right?

Swallowing heavily, you try to put your mind to something - anything - other than the memory of that battlefield and the blood. So much blood. Everywhere.

God, you should’ve stayed. What if Satoru-

That was when you felt it.

The tight, uncomfortable feeling of atoms standing at attention all around you. The air was so stagnant and heavy that it was almost hard to breathe.

You don’t know how you realize what it is - but you don’t get the chance to wonder about it either. Because the thought has barely even crossed your mind before everything else is thrown at the window at those two words.

Hoarse, and whispered, voice ever-so-slightly cracking at the end. One you recognized, one you knew you always would.

“My love?”

Satoru.

It was a miracle that you didn’t get whiplash from how fast you whirled around to face the doorway - and it was an even bigger miracle that you didn’t trip at how your legs were carrying you to that tall, familiar flash of white hair without a second thought.

Hell, you don’t think you’ve ever run this fast in your life, and it still wasn’t quick enough when Satoru engulfed you in his arms. Letting out a soft sigh as he hugs you tight enough that it hurt, like he never wanted to let go.

All familiar warmth and a rapid heartbeat that matched your own.

A shiver runs down your spine at that scent of the infirmary, tinged with something so dangerously metallic, miles away from the usual hints of pine and candy. But you only pull Satoru closer - not even realizing the tears staining his snug t-shirt, nails digging into his sculpted back.

“S-Satoru?” you murmur wetly, as if you still couldn’t believe it - even when you were in his strong arms.

It killed you to pull away, and Satoru wasn’t any better, pulling you firmly to his heated body with a guttural grunt as soon as you showed any signs of shifting away. Grip almost bruising, fingers tight on your hips. But you didn’t mind, why would you?

Because the strongest was nothing under your will - he always was. And it’s only once you break the embrace just a fraction of an inch that you confirm that this actually was Satoru - your Satoru.

“You’re here.” you breathe out unsteadily, not knowing where to look first - his heaving chest, as if he’d run all the way here, or those faint scars along his exposed skin. Jagged, running down his pale skin like he was too impatient - too distracted - to let them heal properly. Satoru’s face was scarily blank, pretty lips set in a tight grimace like every second you weren’t locked in his arms killed him.

He doesn’t answer - like he didn’t know himself. Nervously, you raise your eyes to meet his and-

Oh, Satoru, he was here. Alive.

Looking like he was ready to make sure that no one else was.

You just wondered where they’d pile all the casualties. Too many to bury at Jujutsu High if those tiny blue flickers of lightning at the corners of Satoru’s eyes were anything to go by.

Gaze hooded, pupils blown, he didn’t look at you with that usual warmth. No, he looked at you like a man that had crawled back from death just to rip you apart. And you had half the mind to wonder whether this was some special grade curse that had just come disguised as your best friend.

“Are you okay?” you try again, raising a hand to cup his cheek. “Toru?”

Oh, you might as well have just signed your own will, because no sooner are the words out of your mouth before Satoru’s jolting. Like the mere sound of that stupid little nickname from high school was enough to shock him to his very core.

Electrify him just enough to finally look at you like it was the first time. Like he was seeing you after a thousand years. “My love.”

There it was again, that quiet, strained little mantra.

Followed very closely by the deafening slam! of the door behind him, so hard that you spy one of the hinges rattling off. Startled, you look over Satoru’s broad shoulders just to catch a glimpse of the single, large handprint charred into the wood, slight steam wafting from his hand.

Shit. He’s lost it.

Almost like the strongest has forgotten his restraint - or didn’t care about it either way. Heated, you wondered what this boded for you.

Will you be lucky number one on his kill list? You wonder, as Satoru presses his mouth right above your pulse. Racing. Dangerous. Feeling the rapid thump! thump! thump! under his lips.

Breathing you in, dragging his nose up, up, up- He mutters into your skin, “Y’can kill me if you don’t want this.” Will you go down - if there’s anyone left to remember, that is - as the casualty that surely and officially signaled the honored one’s descent into madness? Only the second best friend he had to kill?

Or, Satoru pulls away slowly from his little haven, breath ghosting your lips as he gasps out a shaky, “No God can take me away without doing this.” Will it be something else entirely?

And then he’s kissing you - and you’re kissing him.

Because fuck, how could you not? This is Satoru, and this is all you’ve ever wanted since those late night convenience store runs in high school, hand-in-hand and teleporting away from a furious Yaga.

The same Satoru that had cockily winked at you goodbye before facing Sukuna - leaving you crying with nothing to hold onto but those cold, cold hands and wishes that you’d have just fucking kissed him before. Maybe even put aside your pride to just tell him.

But none of that mattered now, because Satoru was so desperate - drinking you in like you were the last breath of air on Earth. Like it hurt more to part with your lips than it was to be cleaved in half.

Such a mess of teeth and saliva, and you were addicted. Drunk off his sweet taste - like candy, almost, and those cheap mochi he always got from downtown - and the electricity pricking at you each time your skin grazed against his.

It almost hurt - but it hurt so good.

Gasping, you pull away for air - impossible with the way Satoru was like a madman, kissing your swollen lips again and again and-

“Toru!” you squeal, muffled through his lips. “Aren’t you-” His mouth drops into a soft oh! at the delicate strings of saliva snapping in the non-existent space between you two. Surging forward like he couldn’t help himself. “Battlefield- mmpf- now?”

With a pained grunt, Satoru finally halts, just a hair’s breadth from your lips. And if you were in any better state of mind, maybe you’d have noticed the brief flicker of blue lightning all over his body. The way the lights flicker.

“Special curtain.” he pants against your open mouth, a muscled thigh shoving between your weakening legs. “Time barely passes in here.”

You don’t know what your head is reeling more from his words or his hands - hands that kill - caressing you like a lover everywhere. Unable to decide between your hips, to your ass, to your pretty pretty face. Kiss-bitten lips uttering, “Everyone’s waiting for you.”

“So?” Satoru lets out a humorless laugh. About an octave higher than usual, like he was at the end of his rope now. Eyes hazy and glowing, looking as if it took everything in him to not just tear off that uniform and take you right now.

“But-”

“Shut up and let me ruin you, my love.”

Your back is hitting the mattress before you can even start to wonder what the fuck is happening. One second standing at the doorway and the other all sprawled out on Satoru’s bed.

Besides yourself, you blurt out, trying to make sense of the situation to both of you two. “Did- did you just teleport us?”

“Don’t know.” he answers. And Satoru sounded like he genuinely didn’t know, as bewildered as you were. Powers acting before him - way, way before he can think - as he fists your shirt in his hands. “Don’t care.”

And you half wondered whether Satoru was even aware of what he was doing as he pulls, down, down down.

Rip!

It tears through the air - both the sound, and the way he’s just pulling your shirt to shreds. All depravity and no repentance as Satoru throws it behind God-knows-where. Buttons hitting the floor at a maddening little rhythm to which he was slowly losing his sanity.

He was kissing you like he was angry - taking it out on your poor clothes. Because before you know it, he’s pulling your bra off. Fingers searing on your skin, skirt just tatters on the floor.

“Waited too long.” he groans, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses down your neck. “Always wanted to do this.” And once he started, it was like Satoru just couldn’t stop, rambling into the valley of your breasts, “Ever since I first saw you and oh-”

That was it - only one look at your panties, all flimsy and drenched - and you’re back to wondering what Satoru’s kill count would be. You shudder as his eyes widen, letting out a strangled gasp from some deep, primal part of himself. Voice so broken and starved as he muses, “-can’t believe I waited this long.”

Shit. You weren’t making it out alive.

Immediately, Satoru’s dropping further down the mattress, easily pushing your knees up all the way till they were at your breasts.

And it was so unfair.

Unhair how he was still fully clothed, while you were spread so shamefully. Unfair how he was sliding his underneath your panties up and down, grazing your swollen folds. Up and down, up and down up and- Pooling your sweet sweet juices on his fingertips before pulling, marveling at how sinfully soaked they were.

And it was like something snapped - maybe his whatever restraint he had left, probably you by the end of this. Because just a split-second later, Satoru’s tearing right through your panties. Not even taking a second to breathe before burying his pretty face into your dripping cunt.

Unfair how you were liking it so dangerously. Being so used.

And Satoru knows - he thinks, with whatever rationality he has left intact - that he wants to admire your pretty lil’ cunt. To finally drink in what he’s been dreaming about for years all these lonely nights. But, no, that’s for later - for a different Satoru, one that didn’t feel like he was going to fucking die if he didn’t taste you right now.

“Ah! Hngh- T-Toru-” you arch into his hot tongue, as he licks erratically up your folds, long, sloppy movements of his tongue all the way from your base to your swollen clit. Lapping at your juices like he couldn’t stop.

“Tha’s right.” words muffled into your cunt. Throwing your legs over his sculpted shoulders. “Gimme more, use me. Use me- fuck fuck fuck- yeah.”

He sounded as delirious as you were already, flinching with each word spat into your sensitive cunt. Drunk off your pussy and so messy, like he was well and fully intent on ruining you.

And it’s all you can do to sob so needily as he swirls his tongue around your sensitive clit. Seemingly unable to decide between sucking on it harshly and dipping into your sloppy hole. In and out. Wanting everything. Anything.

“Fuck. S’too deep. Sh-shit.”

“Oh yeah?” he’s grinning, a cruel, cold little grin. You can feel it as he rolls his tongue against your clit over and over. “S’not deep enough.”

You pathetically try to close your legs around his head in shock, as the tips of his long fingers spread open your pussy further, teasing your entrance.

But who were you against the strongest? The one that got everything handed to him on a silver platter since birth? Except you - until now, that is.

Because Satoru’s swatting thighs back open like it was a mere inconvenience, and feel your cunt clench in- fear? Anticipation? as you realize how gently he was throwing you around like a ragdoll, in comparison to that door from earlier.

“No.” he sounds absolutely wrecked, babbling around your throbbing clit. “Need this- need you.”

And then he’s plunging knuckle-deep in your plushy pussy, so greedily that your slick is trailing down his wrist. Drinking in your pretty gasps of his name as he roams for that one spot he knows will have you seeing stars - only the best for his girl, right? The only thing on his mind right now, like a predator starved.

You can only tug on his hair and buck wildly underneath him, inching Satoru closer to where he was desperately searching for. Close - so close.

“Toru-” you moan, like a prayer.

But it wasn’t fast enough.

Not for Satoru, at least.

Even through the haze in your eyes, you could make out that brief flash of electric blue in-between your legs, eyes widening as ah-

That cheat.

You wondered if he even knew he was using his powers right now. Or whether Satoru was too far gone at this point. Way too smug with the way he hits that one spot. Hard.

Ah, you quiver as something so dark sparks in his eyes. Looking like a man starved, that had finally come across his favorite meal. Moving with frightening accuracy as he pumps his fingers in and out, hitting it each and every time.

“Shit, ngh-” you let out a shrill moan, “It’s too good. You’re so fucking-”

One hand was so messy toying with your dripping entrance - the other digging into your hips. Dragging your sloppy pussy senselessly all over his mouth.

Hard enough that you were sure it’d leave marks for tomorrow. If you even made it that long, that is, if the tiny shocks of electricity at his fingertips told you anything.

Desperate. Violent, even.

So it only makes sense that your orgasm was the same. “Fuck- m’cumming m’cumming, fuck fuck fuck-” You’re shaking as you cum, crying out Satoru’s name and delirious little moans that you’d otherwise be embarrassed of.

And he doesn’t stop. Not when you’re blinking your vision back. Not when you’re shying away from his tongue, the stars behind your eyes too much with each flick of his tongue.

“S’too much- too- fuck, sensitive, Toru.” you whine, big fat tears clinging to your lashes.

Ah, there it was again. Just when Satoru was beginning to think that he might just be veering into a state of mind that could be considered sane - you have to call him that goddamn nickname again. And it’s only driving him wild.

Well, he muses, fumbling with the hem of his t-shirt, it’s really on you then.

You let out a fucked-out little whine as Satoru finally takes his shirt off, revealing such milky, toned skin. All sharp curves and dips like he was sculpted so meticulously, going down, down, down and- Your breath hitches at the large, pink scar standing out of his torso, so uneven and fresh that you feel a fresh wave of tears - different ones, this time.

You take a steadying breath, eyes unmoving from the injury. “Satoru-”

“No.” Satoru’s tone is firm, so different from the metallic tinkling of his belt. He was moving now, shifting in between your legs to kiss those tears away. “Need this. Need you. Need you need you need you so bad-”

“But your…” you trail off. The words catch in your throat as he finally unbuckles his belt, pulling down his pants just enough that his throbbing cock springs out, hitting his sculpted abdomen. Red, and so so angry, soaked in precum.

He was so…massive. Now, you expected your best friend to have a big dick, but this was ridiculous. He was so intimidatingly long, thick enough that you could feel the slick beading out of your sloppy hole already.

Yeah, you definitely weren’t making it out alive.

Satoru sees it too, of course, because his cock twitches furiously. A low hiss leaving those pretty pink lips before he’s spitting on your quivering cunt. Once. Twice.

And you know that if this shameless bastard could use six eyes to find your g-spot, then he could’ve done the same for this. But, no, he lets some of it miss, splattering against your inner thigh, smearing all over as Satoru thumbs in his saliva with your slick.

God, he was treating you like some object. Wordlessly throwing your legs over his shoulders, dragging his weeping tip down your swollen folds. So fucking filthy.

And then you feel like you’re been split apart - because Gojo Satoru was unforgiving. As was his aching cock. He’s barely even pressing through the first ring of muscle, and you already feel like he’s pushing all the way into your lungs.

“T-Toru.” you yelp, glancing down at the way your pussy was stretched so lewdly around his thick cock. Quivering as he keeps pushing and pushing and- no mercy. Absolutely none at all. “Can feel you so deep inside ngh- I don’t think I can…”

“No no no no no-” he’s panting into your open mouth. Fucking into your heavenly cunt in mindless, shallow little thrusts just to squeeze deeper inside. “Need this. Want this. Always did. God, fuck fuck fuck, you can do it-”

“But-”

God, Satoru can’t help but kiss you - to shut those cute lil’ whines up more than anything, he’s sure he’ll cum right there and right now if he didn’t.

Because Satoru wasn’t any better. Body bowing into yours, eyes rolling to the back of his head, mouth falling into a delirious oh! as he finally bottoms out. Balls smacking your ass too hard, your pussy too tight, you too beautiful underneath him.

Blindly, he reaches for the headboard - white-knuckling it so hard that it’s a wonder it doesn’t break.

It does - and later you’ll find a pile of splinters behind the bed. It’s just that neither of you notice. Too high off the feeling of Satoru’s cock pushing inside you. You’re clawing at his back now, gasping for air. Letting him fold you in half to filthily lick away the tears pooling at your cheeks.

“Shit- y’got this, my love. You gotta- ah- Breathe-” he can’t even speak properly, sharp tongue so heavy. Eyes glowing with such insanity as he rocks his hips harder into yours.

He was right - you needed to breathe. To finally wrap your head around the fact that this was Satoru - your best friend - the same one that binge-watches sappy rom-coms with you after every breakup. Every. Single. One. Somehow, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Both of you were barely-lucid at this point. And he was out of control now.

Funny, how in all his dreams when you were screaming his name - Satoru was always suave, methodical, playing with your pretty pussy like a fine instrument. Right now, he was anything but. Sloppy - like he didn’t have enough time, never would, even in this room where time slowed.

“Don’t you run away.” he grunts at the way you’re so adorably torn between running away from his cock and bucking for more more more- “Waited twelve fucking years for this. N’ m’gonna take it.”

You almost sob at the pressure as he laces his fingers on top of your head to slide you impossibly deeper. Down, down, down. “S’too good, Toru. Wan’ more-”

“More.” Satoru breathes, more to himself than anything. Eyes widening almost comically, a fucked-out smile spreading all over his face. “Y’want more even when you’re filled to-” He traces an invisible line halfway down your tummy. “Here?”

“Yes.” you gasp as he reaches down to toy with your throbbing clit, drawing tight, frenzied little circles. Balls smacking your ass so painfully, thumb pressing down right where his tip was hitting your cervix - as if he used six eyes to see. “Always wanted more. Always have, Toru.”

And you swear you could see something physically snap inside Satoru. Because his eyes glaze over, grin dropping instantly from his face.

If you weren’t so cockdrunk maybe you’d have caught the way the bedroom lights flicker, the one down the hallway bursting.

“Always, huh?” he’s muttering, grip on your body tightening like a vice. “Wanted more like me?” Rocking into you so sloppily, cock twitching so painfully as he speeds up. Fingers just as desperate - as depraved as his hips.

And this time, he doesn’t even have to use six eyes to find that one spot. Knowing your body well enough to hit it over and over until you were sobbing. “More more more more- fuckin’ take it then.”

At this point you didn’t know whether Satoru was always this ruthless in bed or you’d just broken him. It felt so good that it was almost scary. And your delirious mind wandered into the thought that maybe the bed would break - and your bones to follow.

Well, they would have if Satoru hadn’t been using reversed cursed technique. But you didn’t need to know that just yet.

“Satoru-” you squeal as he only gets more erratic. “I’m…”

“Close?” Satoru’s grunting, smacking his lips against your own.

It’s laughable, really, that muffled question - because Satoru knew you were close. Losing his fucking mind, actually, at how you were squeezing so hard around him. Balls squeezing so painfully right now, but he wanted you to cum first - needed you to cum first.

“Yeah, so close. Wan’ cum- Ah! Please-”

“Then cum. Fucking cum, wan’ed this so bad.” he’s babbling deliriously. Little sparks of lightning visible even to your glassy eyes, fingers humming with a dangerous little energy that stimulated you so good. “Yeah, yeah yeah yeah fucking cum, wanna hngh-”

And then you are. So sudden and hard that you don’t even realize it at first. Just that you’re seeing stars behind your eyes, blood roaring in your ears. Rocking your hips into Satoru’s like such a slut.

Oh, if heaven was really then the part of Satoru that can still form coherent thoughts thinks this just might be it.

Because only the sight of you creaming all around his swollen cock and he’s cumming and cumming so hard that it hurts. Thick, hot ropes of cum that he can’t seem to stop. Doesn’t want to stop, and God he thinks he could cum until you beg and beg and beg it’s too much. Until you’re yelling for-

“Mercy!” you moan, head spinning with how fucking overfilled your pussy was. “Please, Toru-”

Satoru lets out a slight gasp, “Mercy?” Chuckling so cruelly at your dazed nod, “No mercy, my love. None at all.”

And God, it was so fucking hard to look at him too - eyes half-lidded and miles away, flushed and looking like he was anywhere but laid out on a hospital bed just a few minutes ago. In fact, Satoru looked like he was in heaven on Earth as he only milked his painfully hard cock on your snug pussy.

Pretty. Always so fucking pretty.

And he kept whispering that, over and over in your ear as you both ride out your highs. Oh how he loved you.

Your eyes fly open, and Satoru knew he’d said that out loud. Shit. But, well, with the way you were immediately pulling him to collapse into your arms, he thinks he really doesn’t mind.

“Love you, love you. Love you so much. Always did, always wanted to love you- to fuck you.” You barely even notice him marking down your neck, sharp canines digging into the flesh like he wanted to break something. Hard enough that you distinctly wondered whether he was out for blood. “To ruin you.”

It was oozing out of you, both Satoru’s cum - dribbling down your legs in thick globs, pooling on the overpriced sheets below - and his power. Jolts of electricity running down all the way from your poor, abused cunt to your hazy mind.

“So do it.” The air was crackling - crackling with intensity and the smell of jujutsu. It was in your veins, in your words as you whisper, “Ruin me. You’re the- ngh- only- one f’me, Toru. Always was.”

The lights go out. All of them - all across Tokyo, in fact. Shining so bright that it was blinding, until they burst. The last thing you see are his eyes - electrified with blue lightning, burning into your brain.

And then it’s black.

---

“I’ll be back before ya know it, my love.” he whispers against your forehead, cooing at the way you stir sleepily. “Gotta pest to take care of.”

Taking down that curtain wasn’t the hard part, the hard part was actually fucking regaining his senses enough to do so.

And now, all cleaned up and fucked to sleep on his bed, you were looking so unbearably delectable that it made some part of Satoru just want to stay behind this curtain. To forget the waiting sorcerers on the battlefield. Saving the world be damned.

Well, no matter, Satoru had time. He was the strongest, right? After all, how could he give you the world if there was no world to give?

“N’ when I’m back, m’gonna kiss ya to death till you go out with me. Till everyone knows you’re unmistakably mine.”

A/N. GET IT - that unmistakable bit from the panel?

Plagiarism not authorized.

#gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #tonywrites

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luselih · 6 months ago

Note

Another new tumblr page! Welcome welcome!

I was wondering your thoughts on some of the Bleach captains with a very petite s/o? Think like… 4’8 - 5’2 , teeny tiny lil things. Someone who “looks” frail at first glance. Is someone smaller their type? Would that factor into any pursuit? 👀 You can go into NSFW territory if you like, but I’d be happy with SFW too!

miniature love(r) || gotei 13

summary/ask: bleach captains with tiny/petite s/o! (height underneath 5’2 / 157 cm tall)

content warnings | manga spoilers!!, separated in sfw/nsfw, sfw- mostly fluff (a little bit of angst) and my personal opinions of them having tiny fem s/o, teasing, kissing and physical affection, mentions of kids and domestic life, i think that’s it for this part, nsfw - so smut of course (minors dni), fem! reader, neutral skin color reader, yapping too much about kinks ,size kink go BRRRRR, oral (receiving), different sex positions, wlw!!, overstimulation, breeding + pregnancy + kids mentioned, mentions after care + more…

a/n - #1 i am actually using tumblr last 3 years but i just recently got back into writing lol and you got my european ass to convert those feet’s and inches to centimeters, 😦 i am like 5’8-9 feet ( around 175 cm-ish tall ) so please if i didn’t get a good point in this writing im sorry 😭, didn’t write for old man Yama, sorry not sorry honestly, he’s best grandpa tho <3

#2 also to say i wrote for captains in that picture (start of tybw lineup) if you are interested in past/future captains please send me a request! i don’t mind doing them later on~ Toshiro is aged up (grown up/him using his complete bankai)!

SFW!

Suì-Fēng is interesting one since she is not the tallest one (as tall as 150 cm (4'11")) definitely so she is leaning more into taller or at least average sized ones. However i don’t think she minds someone around her height, they can get each other struggles and solve then like you climbing on her shoulders to get a food from a high cabinet in a kitchen or gets in a tiny space together comfortably, yeah i think she is content with it!

Rōjūrō Ōtoribashi would like to have someone dandy on his side, dressing you up in fancy clothes and accessories. Having you as his dress up doll at home~ (sorry this is dry, i don’t like his characters that much lol)

Retsu (Yachiru) Unohana isn’t that tall either being 159 cm (5'2½") tall but her terrifying aura so there is no one pick on you and definitely not her in entire Seireitei so that’s nice <3 However i see her personal preference is someone taller but she also doesn’t mind having “a puppy” following her in free time ;)

Shinji Hirako, this little shit of a man would tease you till a day you die, picking on you as you are just trying to do your job or just passing by, he would put just get your paperwork and lift it that his lanky ass could reach and stuck his tongue out at you, eventually giving in and giving it back with a playful grin and a kiss on a side of your cheek as a apology, saying he won’t tease you again and then teasing you AGAIN not even an hour later 🤦‍♀️

Byakuya Kuchiki would honestly prefer someone who is tiny imo, that has already been proven right since he was with Hisana who is most likely same size as Rukia so there is no doubt. As a head of a clan he likes the feeling that his dearest could rely on him in anything, call it whatever you want but it brings him a sense of something he lost once and he is not planning to lose it again.

Sajin Komamura is TALLEST one 288 cm (9'5½") so as i said he would be probably more found of someone taller or average sized…however! that’s doesn’t mean he wouldn’t enjoy having you around, in both of his forms he would carry you bridal style at late night hours or when Seireitei is empty so you two could have your time without having a fear of being judged or made fun of because of your appearances.

Shunsui Kyōraku, this man hoe likes every woman. He is a proud women lover. He loves any shape, size and complexion in women, he would absolutely adore having you close to him anywhere, especially in his bed late at night as he brushes your wedding rings together :)

Kensei Muguruma is on a more neutral side since i can see him wanting a tall and strong s/o he can fight and train with, but something in me is telling me that he’s a traditional man, he likes to be needed and wanted, be able to stood out in front of you proud, strong and straight to protect you.

Tōshirō Hitsugaya would finally be relieved that there is another person that is small, he’s so mf tiny that you are just maybe slightly taller than him anyway, in his true bankai form he’s around Byakuya’s height so he just might indulge himself into telling you a slight teasing comment, yeah i think he would like someone tiny to match him-

Kenpachi Zaraki would have a smaller s/o without a need for you to be smaller than an average woman in height, he’s like tall-tall, strong and intimidating compared with every race anyway. However i do have a feeling that he would like to have someone so dandy and small like Yachiru since she is a practically a part of his soul so he is found of tiny and cute things. Since his little Yachiru left ( :( ) you had become one who would sit on his shoulder as you two have to go anywhere, imo he probably wishes that one day if you two had a little kid together that it would be little girl who is his eyes is a little Yachiru who you two take care of, but this one have a little eyes just like yours and he likes that very much <3

Mayuri Kurotsuchi, this is weird one because i can see him not really having a type? He barely likes anyone, yet your tiny ass got underneath his skin and now you are here for him. Following him as you two raise Nemuri together, you 3 now looking like a real family!

Jūshirō Ukitake :( gosh i love him so much, anyway he is so nice with you, since you both are physically not very strong, it would make it easy but he fears he couldn’t protect you in time because of his fragile body :( yeah, can definitely see him with tiny s/o <3

NSFW!

Suì-Fēng - i think she loves classic scissoring as you two play w each other’s clits, can’t go well with that one and also, just sit on her face when she’s angry and don’t you dare to put only 10 percents of your body weight on her, fucking sit on it like a chair and let her spend her big mouth on a good job between your legs~

Rōjūrō Ōtoribashi - into Dacryphilia, absolutely loves when you get all pretty and dolled up especially in tiny dress, Pretzel Dip or missionary as you cry from overstimulation, looking so ruined and perfect just for him <3

Retsu (Yachiru) Unohana - man, if you haven’t died when she showed a 8 inch strap up your vagina and fucked you like she hate your guts you are good 👍 anyway, she fucking loves when you ride her or when she puts you in a mating press, absolutely filthy as she splits in your mouth you just because. ( she had a secret breeding kink but shush 🤫 don’t say you heard it from me, also i got some trans!Unohana thoughs, anyone interested in hearing it? comment down please!)

Shinji Hirako - he’s such a meanie in bed too ☹️, i mean he would literally yank you back by your ankle and continue giving you head with his pierced tongue, gosh the overstimulation is crazyyyy with him. Absolutely loves snuggling after it and his hand sliding on your side gently as it went to tease your kitty cat AGAIN-

Byakuya Kuchiki - he must be in love w you if he brings you to his bed so missionary or any position where he can see your face and kiss it is a must, he makes love with you and genuinely only fuckes you if he is jealous or mad, probably have a savior kinks/hints of it sometimes + soft kisses down your back as he praises you after 🥹

Sajin Komamura - (human version) when you two have sex he can’t help but to have a need to make you his because of wolf genetics in him so pretzel dip or prone bone are his favorite positions to make your tiny mind mindless as he might just cums inside if you especially in spring 🤭

Shunsui Kyōraku - loves cowgirl/any version of it so he doesn’t have to do too much at least at the start, see you bouncing on top of his cook as it’s tip bullies your cervix is a fever dream, pressing against your lower back or tummy just for your pussy get a death grip on his dick, isn’t fully interested in pulling out so pregnancy is inevitable sooner or later my dear 🫡

Kensei Muguruma - he is a simple man so he goes doggy or full nelson, fucks to fucks and myb slightly into bondage?? absolutely makes you squirt by fingering you, hate sex??? he absolutely demolish your poor pussy if you flirt w Shinji or Rose, he will kiss your forehead after it tho <3

Tōshirō Hitsugaya - (grown up version) doesn’t have that high of a sex drive but he adores you so he indulge into your horny cravings of him, loves spooning or Scissoring (just mlw) so he can kiss your shoulders or forehead as he for sure makes you cum couple of times at end of the night, secretly loves cookwarming but shushhh 🫢

Kenpachi Zaraki - actually fuckes you in every position possible and everywhere you can imagine, loves stand and deliver (The Bicycle position) as he is chocking you while pounding into your tight kitty, your bodies only stability is his arm that you are gripping for dear life and yes, he isn’t pulling out since he say so <3

Mayuri Kurotsuchi - doesn’t have that high of sex drive but he would absolutely make you deepthroath his length if you are bratty enough, probably some doctor/patient roleplay, people of Seireitei are scared to see his genuine smile if they see a little girl with both of your features??

Jūshirō Ukitake - my sweet man can only had cow girl/variations + missionary sex position with you so he doesn’t finish too soon, absolutely PERFECT with his fingers and has a praise kink so absolutely praise the living shit out of him as you make love underneath the moonlight all night long so he can be happy <333

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imamuzansimp-oldblog-seoseoya · 7 months ago

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types of kisses the uppermoons would prefer from this list

cw: kissing, fluff, morning kisses, forehead, nose, cheek, neck, lip kisses, pda, pinning against wall, jealousy (if u squint), lap, slight suggestive (mostly in muzan and dōma’s part), slight ooc (especially for muzan but it’s my hc muzan in private that we should all be well acquainted with), simpery bc have you met me, manga spoilers for dōma

a/n: this has sat in my apple notes app for wayyyyyyyy too long now

the list (creds to a tumblr i forgot the name of i saved this a long time ago):

Kibitsuji Muzan

5, 1, 4, 7, 10, 13

5 (in secret kiss): this is muzan we’re talking about. no way is he showing you his affection in public. i know i have my whole ‘softie in private™️’ muzan thing (really have to think of a better name), but key word: private. the day he shows affection in public is the day i stop liking kpop (jk i’ll never stop).

1 (good morning kiss): since muzan is a softie in private™️, he will gladly shower you with good morning kisses as soon as he wakes up. if you are asleep it does not matter, he’s waking you up.

4 (kiss on the neck): he’s a demon, who i believe has a side of him that’s very flirty and spicy. if you’re a human and you give consent, he’s kissing, biting, licking your neck and feeding off the blood from there. if you’re a demon, he’s still going to kiss, bite, lick, and suck your neck. he is not picky

7 (against a wall kiss): muzan + secretly very into steamy stuff + very dominant = muzan who loves a place where he can cage you in and watch you get flustered

10 (jealous kiss): as an extraordinarily possessive person, muzan would get jealous A LOT. which leads to a lot of jealous kisses.

13 (lap kiss): especially when he’s jealous or horny. let’s be honest we all know he’d do this if you were an actual object of his affection.

Kokushibo

3, 5, 7, 8

3 (kiss on the nose): let’s be honest, besides lip kisses, this is the only place on his face that you can kiss. his forehead is almost nonexistent and his cheeks are just eyes, unless you’d like to kiss those.

5 (in secret kiss): i feel like since kokushibo is so loyal to muzan, he wouldn’t want to kiss you in public since he’d either be in front of muzan or in the human world. besides, he’s more introverted and a demon so i don’t think he’s big on kisses in public for your reputation especially

7 (against a wall kiss): i don’t even know why, i just feel like he’d like to flex his height on you if you’re shorter than him (which is likely, he’s 190 cm/6’3”). since he’s so tall, why not flex the height while making it intimate?

8 (top of head kisses): again, on his head there are only so many places to kiss since you miss two facial features. he’d like kissing your head, but since he’s likely so much taller it makes him feel secret butterflies when you manage to kiss his head

Dōma (istg i hate this man yall dōma simps better be glad im writing for him)

i’m tempted to include everything but i’ll just put: 4, 7, 10, 12, 13

4 (kiss on the neck): this guy is the most thirsty demon (second only to karaku obvi) and we all know it. he’d probably get grumpy if he couldn’t kiss ur neck at least 10 times a day (separately. the 20 something neck kisses he gave when you woke up only count as one).

7 (against a wall kiss): dōma is……… well it’s dōma, the same guy who says akaza might get stronger if he eats women, the same guy who wanted to make inosuke’s mother his wife, the same guy who forms a crush on the people he kills. using that logic he will gladly pin you up against the wall and kiss you until you’re essentially a tomato. he will not stop even then, he won’t stop unless a

pressing matter appears (aka nothing).

10 (jealous kiss): he gets jealous easily, so why not kiss you out of jealousy too?

12 (accidentally witnessed kiss): using the same logic as 7, he loves showing you off, unlike the previous two demons. he will “accidentally” leave the door wide open when he pins you on the bed and kisses the breath out of your lungs (a common occurrence) and sucks a lot of the blood right out of your veins (another common occurrence. did you ask/want/let him? i don’t know, but i doubt it. sorry)

13 (lap kiss): do i need to explain more?

no.

will i?

yes.

this man… chances are he’s not keeping it in his pants for that one.

Akaza (ITS THE BASKETBALL! *said with love*)

2, 8, 9, 13

2 (forehead kiss): since he actually has one (looking at you koku), he’s kissing yours and you’re kissing his. that’s how it’s going to work and chances are he’s going to be a blushing mess because he is weak to even a woman’s glance *watches him sip respect women juice*

8 (top of head kisses): idek why i just feel like he’d enjoy them.

9 (shy kiss): he’s shy boi with women. we all know this. when you two are in private and he’s not busy punching dōma’s face off (i love it when he does), he is with you. with you while somehow being shy even though ur dating

13 (lap kiss): he’s a respectful demon, so he’s not going to drink your blood, but he is going to act like it with the way he’s kissing your neck roughly

Sekido

4, 6, 7, 10

4 (kiss on the neck): let’s be honest, his name means accumulated anger and he quite literally has anger written on his tongue, he’s being rough with his kissing and trying (and failing) to let off some steam. absolutely the roughest out of every uppermoon, if you thought muzan and dōma were biting a lot get ready to meet this guy. he will not stop until your neck is quite literally all red. props to you for not passing out, although you probably already did

6 (public kiss): he is angry in public, and he will kiss you to try and calm down (not like it works)

7 (against a wall kiss): probably pushes you a bit too hard since he doesn’t know his own strength.

10 (jealous kiss): i don’t think i need to explain, just look at 6

Karaku

4, 7, 12, 13

4 (kiss on the neck): ……… if it’s not obvious i’m sorry for you. the kanji on his tongue is literally pleasure

7 (against a wall kiss): again, i don’t need to explain

12 (accidentally witnessed kiss): like with dōma, the kiss is only “accidentally” witnessed. he totally didn’t leave the door wide open as he pinned you up against the wall

13 (lap kiss): ………………………….. YES

Aizetsu

5, 8, 9, 12

5 (in secret kiss): shyer than akaza 🥹! (he’s so precious im sry) every single time he kisses you it’s a shy kiss.

8 (top of head kisses): chances are he’s taller, so he kisses your head when he feels lonely. most of the time you’ll also be cuddling in bed

9 (shy kiss): just read 5

12 (accidentally witnessed kiss): unlike dōma and karaku, it is a genuine accident. he didn’t mean to leave the door open when he wanted to cuddle with you and shower you with kisses, he just did

Urogi

1, 6, 7

1 (good morning kiss): loves these. more specifically, loves receiving these. he doesn’t necessarily need sleep, but when he does wind up falling asleep, it’s next to you. you’ll usually wake up before him and wake him up with the good morning kisses he adores so much

6 (public kiss): his name means sky joy and ur telling me he wouldn’t get so happy he starts making out with you in public? he also just likes lowkey showing you off

7 (against a wall kiss): signature move: gets so happy he pins you against a wall and makes out with you

Gyutaro

2, 3, 4, 11

2 (forehead kiss), 3 (kiss on the nose), 4 (kiss on the neck): please give this poor man some love. he grew up only living for his sister and everyone else turning up their nose at him. forehead, nose, cheek, neck, everything kisses are a must

11 (first kiss): your first kiss with him was magical, whether it was also your first kiss is up to you, but it was definitely his and he relished in every moment of it.

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scary-grace · 3 months ago

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blind date (part ii) - shigaraki x reader

After endless failed attempts to help Tomura up his game, his friends have settled on their last resort: A blind date. Even before you show up, it's not going well. No quirks AU, female reader.

Part 1

Part 2

“No.”

“Yes,” you say. You look sort of embarrassed. “Eight times.”

“No way.” Tomura studies you across the table. His eyes feel blurry with exhaustion and alcohol, but he’d prop his eyelids open with toothpicks before he’d let you think he was falling asleep. “I don’t buy it. Two, maybe. Not eight.”

“Why would I lie about this?” You take a sip of a drink. It might be yours, or it might be Tomura’s. There are so many mostly-empty glasses on the table between the two of you that Tomura’s forgotten which ones he ordered. “If anything, I’d lie the other way. Being stood up for eight first dates isn’t exactly a good sign.”

Tomura finds another drink, finishes it, and gives his verdict. “It’s a sign you met eight stupid guys.”

“I don’t think that’s it,” you say. “If it was one person, or two – but eight? At that point it’s more likely that I’m the problem.”

Tomura doesn’t think so. Tomura’s been talking to you for a while. Probably hours. He lost track of time at some point, probably around when he lost track of which drinks were his and which were yours, and there’s nothing about you that looks like a problem to him. Except the fact that nobody else is dating you, and that looks more like a crazy stroke of luck for Tomura than anything else.

Tomura might not be good at this shit, but he’s not naïve. He keeps checking in with himself, trying to make sure his interest in you isn’t just because you’re a woman who’s talked to him for longer than five minutes without looking at your phone. He hasn’t seen you take your phone out except once, and that was to put it on silent. Which was – hot isn’t right, but Tomura doesn’t really have a better word, except nice, which isn’t right, either. It’s not just because you’re a woman who talked to him or held his hand or ran to meet him even though you were late. He likes a lot of other things about you, too.

He likes that you showed up looking the way you actually look most of the time, instead of dressing up like Magne told you to. He likes that you don’t try to pretend to be something you’re not. When Tomura started talking about video games, you didn’t act like you knew something about them – just like he didn’t pretend he knew something when you started talking about horror movies or novels or manga. You’re funny, but not on purpose. Or at least that’s what Tomura thought, until he glanced at your face after you’d said something that made him laugh and realized that it was what you’d been hoping to do.

“Sorry,” you say, and Tomura snaps out of it. “Talking about past dates on a first date is kind of a red flag, isn’t it?”

“I asked,” Tomura says, wondering if you called this a first date because you’re hoping for a second one. You shrug. “If you’ve met that many shitty guys, how come you agreed to this? What did Magne tell you about me?”

“What did she tell me.” You finish one of the drinks and grimace slightly. “Um, she said you were my age.”

“Okay.”

“She said you have a job,” you continue, “and friends.”

“Yeah,” Tomura agrees. “We have an apartment. We were friends before we had the apartment. It’s not just because we have an apartment.”

“Magne said you’ve all known each other forever,” you say. You smile slightly. “It sounds nice.”

It’s a good thing Tomura’s known them forever. He hasn’t had a lot of luck making friends as an adult. The closest he’s come to making a friend as an adult is probably Dabi’s stupid fiancé, and that’s only because he never leaves. Toga keeps saying that she thinks he’ll like her girlfriend, but she also never lets her girlfriend within a kilometer of the apartment. One time Tomura asked her why not and Toga gave him the weirdest look he’s ever seen. “You’re all boys,” she said. “You’re gross.”

Maybe that’s true. Tomura’s never been in a woman’s apartment, so he doesn’t really have a way to confirm. How gross could it be, really? He should probably ask Toga for specifics. “Did Magne say anything else?”

“She said online dating and the apps weren’t really working for you,” you say. “You do better in person. I don’t know what you’re like online, but – I feel like she was probably right.”

Tomura’s face flushes. He finishes another drink to cover it up. “Your turn,” you say. “What did Magne tell you about me?”

“Uh,” Tomura starts. He finds another drink, but can’t quite stomach finishing it just yet. He’s already about to screw this up, and it’s going to be worse if he throws up on you afterwards. “Not much. Just that you were a girl and you were my age and that you agreed to it.”

You laugh at that. “That’s the important stuff,” you say. “She did a good job managing your expectations.”

“No,” Tomura says. You blink. “She should have told me more.”

“She doesn’t really know more,” you say. “I only see her at work. She got my number so I could tell her when I’m on shift and my boss is off.”

“What’s your boss’s deal, anyway?” Tomura asks. “Just an all-purpose asshole, or –”

“He’s not great to us. The employees, I mean.” You don’t like talking about this. Tomura can tell. “But he makes things really hard on customers who have certain prescriptions. HRT and stuff like that. He doesn’t do anything they can report him for, but he makes it so miserable for them that they don’t want to come in to pick their meds up.”

Tomura knows that type. Magne runs into that type a lot. If it happens when all of them are out together, Tomura and the others take care of it, but they can’t be there every second. “A few people have my number,” you continue. “I give them a heads-up when their prescriptions are in and he’s out.”

“Why didn’t she tell me that?”

“She did,” you say. Tomura meant before, and says so. “Maybe she thought you’d think I was too nice.”

Tomura snorts. “That guy who tried to cut us in line didn’t think you were too nice.”

If he’d been by himself, Tomura would have let it slide just because he doesn’t care enough, but you blocked the guy’s way with your arms crossed, and when he told you to move, you stared at him until he backed off. “Okay, so not too nice,” you say. You pick up another glass, see it’s empty, and wince. “But if she’d told you more about me, you’d have found a reason not to show up.”

“If she’d told you more about me, you’d have said no.” Tomura feels pretty confident in that, and more so with however many drinks under his belt. “She told you I was bad at app dating.”

“Lots of people are.”

“So bad at it that I’ve never been on a date.” Tomura feels pretty good about one-upping you right up until he sees your eyes widen, but his mouth is way ahead of his brain. “Beat that.”

It’s quiet for a second. Tomura stares at you, feeling his face heat up with embarrassment, while you peer into glass after glass, trying to find one that hasn’t been emptied yet. “I don’t know,” you say. “I think being stood up eight times is worse.”

“No, it isn’t.”

“My record is terrible,” you say. You find one more glass and drain it. “Your record, on the other hand – you’re one for one. I’d say that’s pretty good.”

“One for one on what?” Tomura asks.

“Dates,” you say. “This one’s going well.”

“Yeah?” Tomura’s mouth goes dry. He looks around for a glass with something in it, so that he’ll be able to speak without swallowing his tongue, but he comes up empty. You slide your water glass across the table to him and Tomura gulps half of it. “You think it’s going well?”

You looked pretty calm until he said that. Tomura sees you getting nervous. He slides the glass of water back across the table to you in case you want to drink it, but you leave it alone. “I mean,” you start, “we met up at five-forty-five, and it’s almost last call. Maybe it’s just me, but I wouldn’t spend eight hours hanging out with somebody if it wasn’t going well.”

“Last call?” Tomura says, like a dumbass, only for the bartender to shout it out to the room at large a few seconds later. “Eight hours? Really?”

You nod. “So either it’s going well,” you say, “or you just didn’t have anything better to do.”

If Tomura doesn’t want to be somewhere, he goes home even if there’s nothing better to do. He’d rather spend hours watching the most boring vintage simulation game streams in history than spend two seconds longer being social than he wants to. Eight hours hanging out with one person is a record, even once Tomura subtracts the bathroom breaks he had to take because he was dumb enough to break the seal four drinks in. Has he ever spent eight hours doing nothing but talking with someone without getting bored? No. Not even close.

“It’s going well,” he says, and you look relieved. Not happy, just relieved. That’s – not good. “They’re kicking us out now.”

“Yeah.” You get to your feet and stagger a little bit. You probably drank at least as much as Tomura did, but you’re shorter than him, and you’re a woman. Are you okay? “I’m going to go pay. We should figure out rides home. The trains don’t run this late.”

Tomura fucked up somehow. He can’t figure out how, but he’s pretty sure he did. But you’re still about to get kicked out, and somebody has to pay the tab – and somebody has to figure out how you two are getting home. He gets to his feet, too. “I’ll get it. It can’t be that much.”

You look back at all the glasses on the table. “I think it’s going to be a lot. We’ll split.”

Even with the split, it’s more than Tomura’s spent on a night out, ever – and the longer he spends upright, the clearer it is that he’s trashed. You’re trashed, too. Maybe less than he is, because you’re still trying to work out how to get home. “It’ll be cheaper if we split a rideshare,” you say, and hold out your phone. “Put in your address.”

Tomura forgets his own address for a second. Then he types it in, and you take your phone back. “Okay. It’ll drop you off first, then me. Let’s go.”

Tomura follows you out, only weaving a little bit, and then the two of you are on the sidewalk again. The air’s still warm and humid, but at least there’s more of a breeze than there was before. You lean against the boardwalk railing and Tomura copies you. He leaves one hand open at his side in case you want to reach for it. You don’t, so Tomura goes for yours instead, and you look up at him. “Tomura?”

“It’s going well,” Tomura says. Your eyes slide away from his, and he asks a question that’s been on his mind since an hour or so in. “Want to do it again?”

“Stay out until two am on a work night and blow five times my hourly rate on drinks?” You shake your head. “Go on another date? Yeah.”

Tomura hears all of that in the right order, except the thing in the middle that he actually asked about. “It’s a work night?”

“For you, too. You said earlier.” Your hand moves in Tomura’s, unfolding your fingers to lace them together with his. “We should have called it quits four hours ago.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t want to.” Tomura shouldn’t have had this much to drink. He’s saying stuff he probably shouldn’t. Or should he? He doesn’t see the point in lying about shit on a regular basis. Why start now? “I still don’t.”

Next to Tomura, you take a deep breath, then let it go. “Okay. Give me your phone.”

Tomura fishes it out of his pocket with his free hand and passes it to you, then has to take it back to unlock it. He watches as you navigate to his contacts and add yourself to them – your first name, plus the words “blind date”, like Tomura’s going to forget who you are. How many women do you think he has in his phone? You hand it back to him after saving your contact and Tomura waits for you to hand yours over so he can add his number to yours. You don’t. “I need your phone. You need my number.”

“If you text me, then I’ll have it,” you say. “If you don’t, I won’t need it.”

Tomura feels weird about that. “Is this some kind of test?”

“I’ve gotten stood up eight times. I’m done chasing after people who don’t want me.” You loosen your grip on Tomura’s hand, like you’re giving him the chance to let go. “I ran sixteen blocks to meet you. You can send me a text.”

Tomura can see where you’re coming from. Sort of. The rideshare shows up, and the two of you slide into the backseat. Going from standing up to sitting down gives Tomura some kind of drunken headrush, and he slumps sideways against you. “Sorry –”

“It’s fine.” You shift around in your seat until Tomura’s cheek is resting on your shoulder. You’re still holding his hand. “I don’t mind.”

Tomura doesn’t mean to fall asleep, but the next thing he knows, the rideshare’s coming to a stop outside his apartment building and you’re shaking him awake with the hand that was holding his. “We’re here,” you say. “It was nice to meet you, okay? I had a really good night.”

Tomura nods. His mouth tastes like something died in it, and his mind feels foggy, but not so foggy that he can’t figure out how he wants to say goodbye. Maybe you know. “What do we do?”

“How about a hug?”

Sounds good. Tomura’s mouth tastes too bad for kissing, anyway, and his lips are gross enough to make you wish you’d never met him. He reaches out and drags you awkwardly across the backseat and into his arms, and you – fit. Tomura normally hates touching people, and he hates it even more when he’s drunk, but you fit, still and quiet with your head tucked in against his shoulder and your eyelashes brushing the side of his neck when you blink. Tomura could go back to sleep like this, easy. He’s having a hard time keeping his eyes open.

“Hey,” the driver says from the front seat. “Are you staying or going?”

“Are you in a big hurry or something?” Tomura pulls away from you with an effort and gets out of the car. The door shuts behind him, and Tomura turns to say goodbye, but he’s too slow. All he gets is a glimpse of your face through the window as the rideshare drives away.

Tomura should text you right now. The thought occurs to him, but then a mosquito bites him, and he slaps it a second too late. He’ll get inside the stupid building and get to his room, and then he can text you. It’s a good plan. Whether Tomura will remember it by the time he gets to the apartment is an entirely different story.

Tomura and his friends live on the top floor. The entire top floor. It used to be a penthouse, back when both the building and the neighborhood weren’t shit, but now the rent is cheap enough that the seven of them can afford it together. They all get their own rooms, three bathrooms is usually enough for everybody, and usually there’s at least one person who’s willing to cook dinner and let the rest of them mooch. Tomura and his roommates all keep weird hours, but by two-thirty in the morning everybody’s usually in their rooms, even if they’re awake. He’s not going to bother anybody as long as he’s quiet.

Or at least that’s what Tomura thinks. He’s dead wrong, because when the elevator doors open, he finds all the lights on in the living room, and most of the people he lives with sitting in there, wide awake. It looks like they’re waiting for something. It occurs to Tomura with slowly dawning horror that they’re waiting for him.

He makes the first move out of shock more than anything else. “What the fuck?”

“We decided to wait up for you. Since it’s baby’s first date and all,” Dabi says with a smirk. His stupid fiancé is here, too, perched on the arm of the chair Dabi’s in. “So how’d it go?”

Tomura doesn’t want to talk about this when he’s drunk. He wouldn’t want to talk to Dabi about it stone sober. He shakes his head. “Come on,” Twice announces from where he’s sprawled out on the rug next to Toga. “Nobody comes back from a date at three in the morning and gets to shake his head about it. Spill. No, don’t spill! I don’t want any nasty details.”

“I want all the nasty details,” Magne says. “What happened?”

“Perhaps we shouldn’t quiz him,” Sako says from the other chair. “Shigaraki will tell us what he wants to, when he wants to.”

Sako is officially the only person Tomura’s not pissed at right now. “No, he has to tell us now,” Toga says. “We’ve all been working on this for a month. We have to hear how it went!”

“Give us at least a few details,” Dabi’s idiot fiancé says. “We need something to base our wild speculations on.”

“You don’t live here,” Tomura says. Dabi glares at him. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Wait, it was bad?” Spinner runs the opposite way with it. “Why didn’t you just come back? Or you could have called us – we’d come drink with you –”

“It wasn’t bad,” Tomura snaps. “I got her number.”

He was hoping that would shut everybody up. Instead they all trade glances. “That’s it?” Dabi asks, incredulous. “You get back an hour after last call and all you got was her number?”

That’s not all Tomura got. “She said we should go out again. And we held hands.”

“Are you thirteen or something? That’s so lame,” Dabi’s idiot fiancé says. “Was she like, not –”

“She’s not that kind of girl,” Magne says. She reaches over from the couch to punch Dabi in the arm, even though it was the goddamn fiancé who said it. “You think I’d set Shigaraki up with that kind of girl?”

“Yeah, because that’s the kind of girl he’ll be dealing with in Vegas. Did you time-warp back to the fifties when I wasn’t looking?” Dabi grimaces. “You’re supposed to be upping your game. This is a setback.”

Tomura finally gets his feet under him. “No, it isn’t,” he says. “I had fun.”

He feels weird saying it, even though it’s true. He had fun walking around with you trying to find a bar you both wouldn’t hate, because both of you hate when things get too loud. He had fun talking about any of the fifty things the two of you talked about over the course of the eight hours you spent together. He liked seeing you square off with the asshole who tried to cut you both in line and he liked seeing you order the weirdest drink on the menu, even though it was disgusting and neither of you could finish it. He liked that he didn’t notice you trying to make him laugh until it already happened. He liked holding your hand.

Tomura had fun on his date, end sentence. “You guys are assholes. I’m going to bed.”

“We’re not assholes! We want to help,” Twice protests. “You don’t need our help! You’re doing fine.”

“Yeah, I’m with Twice,” Spinner says. Twice starts arguing with him, but Spinner ignores it. “It’s a win if you say it’s a win. Hanging out with somebody who’s not us for that long is definitely a win.”

“It’s not a game,” Toga says. She rolls over on her back and stares up at Tomura. “Are you going to text her?”

Right. Tomura was going to do that. He fumbles his phone out of his pocket. “No,” Dabi and his fucking fiancé say at the same time. Dabi keeps talking. “It hasn’t even been an hour. Are you trying to look desperate?”

“I texted Ochako while I was on the train home from our first date,” Toga says. Toga’s the only one other than Dabi who’s in an actual relationship, rather than a bunch of situationships, friends-with-benefits things, and hookups they block the next day. “I wasn’t desperate.”

“You’re the most desperate person I’ve ever met. But you’re a girl, so it’s cute on you,” Magne says. “It’s not cute on guys. It’s weird.”

“I don’t think it is,” Spinner says. Tomura adds Spinner and Toga to the list of people he doesn’t hate right now. “Sending a dick pic or begging for nudes would be desperate. Just saying something is – nice. I’ve never had a date text me the same night before. I wouldn’t mind.”

“In that case, your date would be a girl,” Magne points out. “Cute when girls do it. Weird when guys do. I’d know.”

Tomura lost the plot a few sentences back. “I wasn’t going to send a dick pic. I don’t even have a dick pic.”

Dabi’s fiancé wheezes. “What?”

“Okay, that’s enough!” Toga pops up off the floor. “Tomura-kun has work tomorrow and so do I – and so does Spinner – so we’re all going to go to bed.”

“We are?” Spinner asks, then yelps as Toga yanks him off the couch. “Hey!”

“That’s right,” Toga sings out. She grabs Tomura’s arm, too, and Tomura barely manages to avoid getting yanked off his feet. He stumbles down the hall after her, colliding with Spinner a few times. It’s all he can do to keep ahold of his phone.

Toga’s bedroom, Spinner’s, and Tomura’s are all along the same hallway, sharing the same bathroom. Once they’re in the hallway, Tomura plants his feet. “Why are you kidnapping me?”

“We’re not kidnapping you. Your room is right there.” Toga points, like there was any way Tomura was going to forget. He’s drunk, but not that drunk. “They were being mean. I’m happy for you. So is Spinner. Right, Spinner?”

“Like I said. A win’s a win.”

“It’s not a game.” Toga elbows him. Then she looks at Tomura. “They’re making it sound complicated and it’s not. If you like her, text her. If you don’t, don’t. Easy. Now go to bed.”

It’s not a puzzle game. It’s a yes or no question. Tomura likes that a lot better than whatever the hell the others wanted him to do. Still – “Do I need a dick pic?”

It’s quiet for at least a minute. “You know what,” Spinner says finally, “we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. I’m with Toga. Go to bed before you get yourself in trouble.”

Tomura’s tempted to tell them both that he’s doing it because he wants to, not because they’re telling him to, but then he decides not to waste the air. The sooner he goes to his room, the sooner he can send you a message without everyone bothering him about it. He shuffles back to his room, flops down on the bed – which he didn’t make this morning, because he’s just going to get back in it later – and pulls out his phone. When he taps the contact icon, the first thing he sees is the contact you set for yourself.

Your name (blind date). Tomura opens a message and gets stuck trying to think of what to say. Short is probably better. His mind is off on some weird paths right now, a lot of which have to do with you and his dick and all of which would be a lot more of a problem if he wasn’t still drunk. And none of which you need to know about. You also don’t need to know about the ambush his friends set up for him when he got home. Or the fact that Tomura’s friends only sent him on this date so he could get better at women before the trip to Vegas in two months.

That might have been why Magne set you and Tomura up, but that’s not why Tomura’s texting you. this is tomura. i want a second date. That gets the point across for sure. If you texted Tomura that he’d count it as a win, so he sends it. But Toga said it’s not a game. Spinner said it would be nice to get a text from a date. What would Tomura want you to say, if he got a text from you?

Tomura overthinks it. He overthinks it so hard that he falls asleep, and only wakes up when he drops his phone on his face. You haven’t texted back yet, but it’s only been fifteen minutes since he sent the message, and you’re probably asleep. What kind of text would Tomura want to see from you when he woke up in the morning? That you liked him. That you had fun. Maybe you’d say something funny, too. Tomura doesn’t do funny. He almost falls back asleep again, then hauls himself up to wakefulness hand over hand, sitting up in the bargain. One more message. It should be easy.

sorry I fell asleep on you is what Tomura says. He barely manages to plug in his phone before he falls asleep for good.

He wakes up to his alarm howling, right on schedule. He can hear Spinner’s alarm doing the same thing from across the hall. Tomura’s mouth tastes like he threw up in it in his sleep. He fumbles for his phone to hit snooze on the alarm, but in the split second before he does, he sees a text notification. Everybody he texts has been asleep for the last – Tomura looks at the time and groans – four hours. So who –

Tomura unlocks his phone at warp speed and taps the message icon. He remembers texting you last night, but he didn’t remember how stupid he sounded. Sorry he fell asleep on you? You’re probably texting him to fuck off. Tomura glances down at your message. His head hurts badly enough that he has to read it five or six times to process it all the way.

You gave his first text a thumbs-up, then asked what he wants to do on the second date. But you replied directly to his stupid second message. it’s okay. next time it’s my turn.

Tomura’s lips split as an uncontrollable grin crosses his face. He got four hours of sleep. He’s got a full day of work and a hangover to go with it, and the instant he sets foot in the living room, his friends are going to start up on him about how he’s handling this all wrong. But Tomura must not be handling it all that badly, because he’s got a second date, and for a few seconds, the hangover and work and everything else doesn’t matter at all.

#shigaraki tomura x reader #tomura shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x you #reader insert #x reader #blind date au #man door hand hook car door #a bisquared production

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mononijikayu · 2 months ago

Text

non ho l’eta — nanami kento.

“I’m okay, sensei.” you managed to say, though your voice wavered with the effort of holding back. “It’s just... a lot to adjust to, I guess.” He nodded, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes, a question left unasked, and you wondered if he knew—if he could see the turmoil in your heart. “You don’t have to do it alone, you know.” he said after a moment, his voice soft, almost a whisper. “Whatever it is you’re going through... you can talk to me.”

GENRE: Alternate Universe - Modern AU!;

WARNING/s: Angst, Fluff, Safe For Work (SFW), Age Difference (Reader is in early 20s, Nanami is in late 30s), Unrequited Romance, Falling In Love, First Love, Emotional Hurt, Comfort, Confession, Hurt/Comfort, Pining, Loss, Letting Go, Mention of Depression, Mention of Mourning, Depiction of Physical Touch, Depiction of Depression, Depiction of Loneliness, Depiction of Grief, Depiction of Age Gap;

WORDS: 11k words.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: i told myself this was going to be only five thousand words but it ends up being so long. i'm really sorry. you've been dealing with how long this is. but i love this a lot. i wrote it listening to the song with the same title as this fic and just as much, i think about that manga i read years ago, after the rain. its a good story and the ending, where the ml lets the fl lead go because he cares about her youth - it was great. i hope you like it anyway. thank you for reading!!! i love you all <3

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if you want to, tip! <3

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A NEW BEGINNING MUST ALWAYS COME YOU THINK. As you settle into the quiet, unfamiliar countryside, the weight of the loss still clings to you. The days are filled with the sounds of nature—birds chirping, the rustle of leaves—but they feel muted compared to the life you left behind. The house is smaller, the town quieter, and everything around you seems to move at a slower pace. But inside, the grief swirls like a storm, refusing to be tamed by the peaceful surroundings.

Your beloved brother Yuuji, always so full of energy, has been quieter since the move. He’s trying to be strong, to put on a brave face for you, but you can see the sadness in his eyes. It was obvious, with how his smile never reaching his eyes like it usually does.

And it felt odd, it felt weird. You weren’t used to your brother being in this. And it hurts you. But you know that you didn’t know what to do to comfort him. You don’t want to drive him away by speaking to him about it. And you don’t want to hurt him by making him feel like you were overbearing either.

Your new house was still quiet. And you weren’t used to that either. Grandpa Wasuke’s voice would be ringing out through the house today, telling you both to go and start washing up so you could eat dinner. Or sometimes when you guys got home late because of sports practice, he would be too loud to scold you because you both forget to tell him that you were going home late and making him worried.

You miss your grandfather. And you were sure of Yuuji’s feelings being the same too. The silence was too loud, even between you and your brother. You wished it wasn’t. Because you were all you had now. One evening, as you both sit on the porch, the sky painted in the soft hues of sunset, Yuji breaks the silence.

“It’s weird, isn’t it?” he begins, his voice softer than usual. “Being here, without him."

"Yeah." You mumble under your breath. "It...it is."

Your brother lets out a soft sigh. "I thought moving away would help, but...”

He trails off, staring at the horizon, his usual spark dimmed by the weight of unimaginable grief. You nod, understanding exactly what he means. The move was supposed to be a new beginning, but it feels more like an escape that didn’t quite work. And yet, you were stuck. And so was he too.

“I miss him so much, you know?” you admit, your voice trembling with emotion. “I thought...maybe if we came here, it wouldn’t hurt as much. But everything just reminds me of him. Even...even the silence......"

Yuuji looks at you, his lipspursed in a line. "I....I know."

"Grandpa’s voice is not here anymore and not hearing it anymore is just….” You feel the tears threatening to fall.

Yuuji turns to you, his expression a mix of sadness and determination. “We’ve still got each other. At least there’s that, sis.” he says, his hand reaching out to rest on yours. “And we’ll get through this. Maybe not today, or tomorrow, but...we will.”

His words are simple, but they carry a weight of hope that you cling to. The grief might not vanish with a change of scenery, but at least you have Yuji by your side. And that, somehow, makes the pain a little more bearable.

The new town was picturesque—a small, idyllic place with rolling fields, charming cottages, and a slower pace of life that starkly contrasted with the frenetic energy of the city you had left behind. The local college, with its ivy-covered walls and quaint architecture, offered a promise of new beginnings and opportunities. Yet, beneath the serene surface, both you and Yuuji felt an underlying emptiness that was impossible to ignore.

As you and Yuuji navigated your first weeks at college, you found yourselves struggling to adapt to the quieter, more insular environment. The once-familiar hum of city life, with its constant activity and vibrant energy, was replaced by the gentle rustle of leaves and the occasional chirp of birds. The silence of the countryside, while initially soothing, soon became a reminder of the profound solitude you both felt.

The college itself was a small, close-knit community, where everyone seemed to know each other. The interactions were friendly and the atmosphere warm, but the sense of being an outsider in this new world was palpable. The academic workload was manageable, but your focus was often fragmented by the persistent ache of grief. Classes that once might have been engaging felt distant and abstract, overshadowed by the weight of your personal loss.

Every corner of the town seemed to hold echoes of the life you had left behind. The quaint coffee shop that you frequented, with its rustic charm and homemade pastries, became a bittersweet reminder of the comfort you once had. The local park, with its winding paths and serene pond, offered moments of reflection but also highlighted the contrast between the peaceful surroundings and the turmoil within.

The routine of daily life was a constant struggle between embracing the new and mourning the past. Each day, you and Yuuji tried to immerse yourselves in your studies and social activities, hoping to find distraction and connection. Yet, despite your best efforts, the shadows of grief seemed to follow you, making it difficult to engage fully with the present.

Yuuji’s energy began to return with the arrival of new friends. He introduced you to them one day—Kugisaki Nobara, a fiery and confident girl with a sharp tongue, and Fushiguro Megumi, a quiet and serious boy who seemed to understand more than he let on. You watched as your brother slowly began to resemble his old self, the grief loosening its grip on him with each laugh he shared with them, each story he told.

There was a joy in his voice that you hadn’t heard in months, a tenderness in the way he spoke about his new friends, and it warmed your heart to see him healing. You felt truly happy for him—how could you not? He deserved this chance to move forward, to find light in the darkness.

And yet, a small, stubborn pain lodged itself in your chest, growing a little each day. You couldn’t help but notice the way you were falling behind. No matter how much you tried, the sorrow still clung to you, as if you were trapped in a place where time stood still, unable to reach the same place of healing that Yuji had found.

You tried to join in, to share in his happiness, but it felt like you were on the outside looking in, a spectator in your own life. The laughter that once came so easily to you now felt forced, and every smile was tinged with a sadness you couldn’t shake.

Yuuji didn’t notice—or maybe he did, but he didn’t know how to help. He was so caught up in his new friendships, in the joy of finally finding some semblance of normalcy, that your struggles seemed to fade into the background. You didn’t blame him for it; you were glad he had found something to hold onto. But the loneliness was there, a constant reminder that while he was moving forward, you were still stuck in the past, unable to move on.

A lot of this was on you—that much you were painfully aware of. Yuuji had nothing to do with your unhappiness; he had been nothing but supportive, trying his best to bring some light back into your life. No, it was you who clung to the sorrow, who let it seep into every corner of your being until it became a part of you. You were the one at fault, wallowing in the pain because it felt like the only way to hold on to the past.

Maybe, in some twisted way, you were punishing yourself. The guilt gnawed at you, whispering that you hadn’t been a good enough granddaughter, that you had failed him in some way. And the thought of moving on, of letting go of the grief, felt like a betrayal. Because if you forgot, if you let the pain fade, what would be left of your grandfather? Wouldn’t that mean he didn’t exist anymore?

You couldn’t bear the thought. He was all you and Yuuji had, the one who had raised you, who had been your anchor in a world that often felt too chaotic to navigate alone. Clinging to him, to the pain, to the loneliness he had left behind—it felt like the only way to keep him close, to make sure he wasn’t forgotten.

You knew it wasn’t healthy, that it was holding you back while Yuuji was moving forward. But you couldn’t let go. Not yet. Not when it felt like losing him all over again. So you held on, hoping that by keeping the pain alive, you could keep a part of him with you, even if it meant sacrificing your own happiness in the process.

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YOU REALIZED THAT YOU WERE A NIGHT OWL. Because the night felt like a relief. Even if it was too loud, the night was kinder than the day. It was two sides of the coin, a mercy and a pain still, you think. The silence of the countryside was both a comfort and a torment.

The absence of city noise left space for your thoughts to swirl, allowing the grief to settle in more deeply. The memories of your grandfather, so vivid and cherished, felt both near and painfully out of reach, teasing you with their closeness yet reminding you of the distance that now separated you.

The quiet of the countryside, which had once promised peace, now seemed to amplify the emptiness left by his passing. During the day, you could distract yourself with the mundane tasks of settling into a new home, but when night fell, the stillness felt oppressive, as if the world had stopped moving just to remind you of what you’d lost.

It was a strange paradox—the night brought a certain relief, a break from the pretense of normalcy that the day demanded, but it also intensified the ache within you. The darkness was both a sanctuary and a prison, offering solace in its quiet yet refusing to let you escape the sorrow that lay just beneath the surface. In the night, you could almost feel him there, his presence lingering in the shadows, but it was a comfort tinged with the sharp pain of knowing he was gone.

The countryside, with its vast, empty spaces and endless quiet, had a way of magnifying your loneliness. What was supposed to be a balm for your grief had instead become a mirror, reflecting the void his absence had created in your life. And so, as you lay in bed, staring into the darkness, you couldn’t help but feel that the night, though kinder in some ways, also held a cruelty of its own—one that forced you to confront the depth of your loss in the silence that surrounded you.

During the day, you tried to lose yourself in the routine of university life, hoping that the distraction would somehow ease the ache. But even the familiar rhythm of lectures and assignments couldn’t drown out the emptiness that had settled within you. It was in one of these moments, as you sat quietly in the college library, as he approached you after the lecture, his usual composed expression softened by concern.

“May I ask you something?” he said, his voice low and measured. There was no judgment in his tone, only a gentle curiosity that made you nod in response.

“Why are you still here?” he asked, his gaze steady on yours. “Why are you still in university?”

The question caught you off guard. It wasn’t something you had given much thought to—not really. You had simply kept going, attending classes, completing assignments, because that’s what you were supposed to do. But now, confronted by professor Nanami Kento’s calm and earnest inquiry, you find yourself struggling to answer.

You hesitated, searching for words that didn’t come easily. “I don’t know, sensei.” you finally admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I guess... It's what I’ve always done. For relief….But I just….I don’t….”

Nanami nodded, as if he had expected that answer. “But is it what you want? To be here?” he asked, his tone gentle but insistent. “Or are you here because it’s easier to keep going than to stop and face what you’re really feeling?”

The honesty in his words cut through the numbness that had settled over you. You looked away, unable to meet his gaze as the truth of his question sank in. Why were you still here? Was it because you truly wanted to be, or because it was easier to bury yourself in routine than to confront the grief that was still so raw and overwhelming?

“I don’t know, sensei.” you repeated, your voice trembling now. “I don’t know what I want anymore.”

Nanami didn’t push you for more. Instead, he simply stood there, offering his presence as a quiet support. “It’s okay not to know anything.” he said after a moment. “It’s okay to take time to figure it out. But don’t be afraid to ask yourself these questions. Don’t be afraid to face what’s really going on inside.”

His words lingered with you long after he had left, echoing in the silence of your room that night. For the first time, you allowed yourself to consider the possibility that maybe, just maybe, it was okay to pause, to question, to not have all the answers right away. Maybe it was okay to admit that you were still hurting, still lost, and that you didn’t have to have it all figured out just yet.

From what you remember, the first person to truly notice your pain was your professor in Philosophy—Nanami Kento. He was always composed, with a stern exterior that didn’t betray much emotion, but there was a kindness in his eyes that softened whenever he looked at you and Yuuji. Perhaps it was because he understood, on some level, what it was like to carry the burden of loss.

Nanami–sensei never pried, never asked questions that would force you to confront what you weren’t ready to face. But there was something in the way he looked at you, a quiet understanding that made you feel seen, even in your darkest moments. He didn’t offer empty words of comfort or try to tell you that things would get better with time. Instead, he acknowledged your pain with a simple nod or a gentle word, as if to say that it was okay to feel what you were feeling.

You often caught him watching you during lectures, his gaze lingering a moment longer than necessary, as if he was trying to assess how you were holding up. He’d ask you how you were doing in a way that suggested he wasn’t just asking about your academic performance but about you as a person, as someone who was grieving. His presence was steady, a quiet anchor in the storm of emotions you were struggling to navigate.

In those moments, you felt a strange sense of comfort. Nanami didn’t try to fix you, didn’t push you to move on before you were ready. He simply let you exist in your pain, offering a silent understanding that you weren’t alone in it. And though it didn’t make the nights any easier or the grief any less suffocating, it was a small comfort to know that someone else understood, that someone else had been there too.

Somehow, it was easy to see in his eyes that he had gone through something similar, and that pained him in some way. And he hated that someone were to be in a position akin to yours, in a similar conundrum so young as you were. He took it upon himself to make sure you were both doing okay, often checking in on you, offering guidance, and making sure that neither of you felt alone.

The late afternoon sun cast long shadows through the office window, illuminating the neat rows of books and papers that lined Nanami’s desk. The quiet hum of the air conditioner was the only sound in the room as you sat across from him, feeling the weight of your emotions as you tried to make sense of your new life.

“Nanami–sensei.” you began, your voice soft but determined, “I’ve noticed you’ve been going out of your way to check in on me. I appreciate it, really, but I can’t help but feel like there’s more to it. You seem to understand what we’re going through in a way that’s more than just professional.”

Nanami looked up from his papers, his gaze meeting yours with a hint of sadness. He leaned back in his chair, taking a moment before responding. “It’s not easy to see young people struggling with grief and loss. It brings back memories of my own experiences, of times when I had to navigate similar challenges.”

You frowned slightly, sensing the depth of his feelings. “You’ve been through something like this yourself?”

Nanami nodded, his expression reflecting the weight of past pain. “Yes. I’ve had my share of losses, and while each experience is unique, it is normal. Seeing you in such heavy burdens….I must help in that. It is my duty.”

A moment of silence passed between you, the gravity of his words settling over the room. You could see the empathy in his warm brown eyes, a deep well of understanding that went beyond mere sympathy.

“I didn’t realize you had experienced something like this, sensei.” you said quietly. “It’s comforting to know that you understand, but it’s also hard to see how much it affects you. I’m so sorry about what happened to you, sensei.”

Nanami’s gaze softened as he looked at you. “Please don’t worry. I don’t mind. And I try to keep my personal experiences separate from my role as a teacher, but sometimes it’s inevitable. I can’t help but empathize deeply with students who are struggling. If it helps you, then maybe it would make it easier on you.”

You nodded, appreciating the honesty and vulnerability he was showing. “It’s been hard for us to adjust, with everything that’s happened. I understand, sensei. But….. Your support has made a difference, even if we haven’t always known how to express it.”

Nanami offered a small, reassuring smile. “I’m glad to hear that. I want to make sure you and Yuuji know that you’re not alone in this. Sometimes, just knowing that someone cares and is willing to listen can make a difference.”

There was a sense of mutual understanding in the room, a connection forged through shared experiences and empathy. The conversation had brought a sense of clarity, revealing the depth of Nanami’s compassion and the personal struggles he had faced.

“You’ve been a source of support and I want to thank you for that.” you said, feeling a sense of gratitude. “It’s good to know that...we have someone. It's...good. That I...I have someone, sensei.”

Nanami’s expression was one of gentle encouragement. “You’re welcome. If you ever need someone to talk to or guidance as you navigate this transition, don’t hesitate to reach out. My door is always open.”

At first, it was just a relief to have someone looking out for you, someone who cared enough to notice the cracks in your armor. But as time went on, you found yourself longing for more of his attention, craving the comfort he provided. His presence was steady, reassuring, a shining new light that gave you warmth in the cold uncertainty of your new life.

Every glance, every word of encouragement, every moment spent with him, stirred something deep within you. You began to realize that it wasn’t just gratitude or respect that you felt for him. It was something more, something that made your heart race and your thoughts linger on him long after he had gone. You were falling in love with Nanami Kento, and as frightening as it was to acknowledge, it was also something you could no longer deny.

The realization that you were in love with Nanami Kento crept up on you slowly, like the dawn breaking over the quiet countryside. At first, you tried to brush it off, convincing yourself that it was just a fleeting infatuation born out of your need for comfort in a difficult time. But the more you tried to suppress those feelings, the stronger they became.

It started with the way your heart would skip a beat when he entered the room, the way your eyes would search for him in a crowd, hoping for just a brief moment of connection. You found yourself hanging onto his every word, cherishing the conversations you shared, no matter how brief. His calm demeanor, his quiet strength, the way he seemed to understand you without needing to ask too many questions—it all drew you in, making you feel safe in a world that had felt so unstable for so long.

The more time you spent with him, the more you found yourself yearning for his presence, even when he wasn’t around. You would replay your interactions in your mind, searching for hidden meanings in his words, wondering if he felt even a fraction of what you were feeling. The thought of being in love with him was both exhilarating and terrifying, a delicate balance between hope and fear.

You knew it was risky, that opening your heart to someone else meant making yourself vulnerable again, something you weren’t sure you were ready for. But the warmth you felt in Nanami’s presence, the way he made you feel like you weren’t alone in your pain, was something you couldn’t ignore. And so, despite the fear, despite the uncertainty, you allowed yourself to embrace the feelings growing inside you, no longer able to deny the truth: you were in love with Nanami Kento.

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IT FELT WRONG TO FEEL GENUINE FEELINGS FOR HIM. But you just can't help yourself. You had found something warm in your life for the first time in a long time. And you wanted to hold onto theat feeling, even just for a little while.

You found yourself looking forward to Nanami's lectures with a new sense of anticipation, one that went beyond the academic content. It wasn't just about the subject matter or the intellectual challenge; it was the way his presence seemed to anchor you in a world that often felt tumultuous.

His voice, calm and measured, had a soothing quality that cut through the noise of your internal struggles, providing a sense of stability that was both comforting and invigorating. It felt like the sun in the morning sky, greeting you with all the warmth it could offer.

Every lecture became a sanctuary of sorts, a place where the outside world faded away and all that remained was the rhythmic cadence of his speech and the depth of his insights. His voice had a way of wrapping around you like a soft blanket, offering warmth and clarity in moments of confusion. It was as if he spoke directly to your soul, providing the reassurance you craved without even realizing it.

You began to pay closer attention to the little details of his presence, each one becoming a part of the mosaic of your growing affection. You noticed how he always carried a thermos of coffee, a small but meaningful ritual that seemed to add a personal touch to his professional demeanor. It was a simple thing, but it spoke to a side of him that was both grounded and familiar, like a quiet reflection of his everyday life.

The way he adjusted his glasses when he was deep in thought fascinated you. It was a small, habitual gesture that seemed to signal his immersion in the subject, his focus and dedication to his work. In those moments, when he was lost in contemplation, you saw a different side of him—one that was entirely absorbed in the pursuit of knowledge and understanding. It was a reminder of his depth, his passion for what he did, and it drew you in further.

And then there were the rare but genuine smiles that occasionally graced his lips. These smiles were not frequent, but when they appeared, they were like fleeting glimpses of sunlight breaking through the clouds. They were unguarded and sincere, revealing a side of him that was warm and approachable. These moments were precious to you, a sign that beneath his composed exterior, there was a person who experienced joy and kindness in the midst of his professional life.

Each detail, each nuance of his behavior, seemed to create a rich tapestry that captivated you. The combination of his voice, his habits, and his rare smiles painted a portrait of someone who was both steadfast and deeply human. As you became more attuned to these subtleties, you found yourself drawn to him in ways you hadn't anticipated. The more you observed, the more you appreciated the intricate layers of his character, each one adding depth to your feelings and making it even harder to keep your emotions in check.

In the quiet moments between lectures, when you would reflect on these details, you felt a growing sense of connection to him. It was as if the little things he did were speaking directly to your heart, creating a bond that was both profound and fragile. And with each passing day, the realization that you were falling for him became more undeniable, a truth that both comforted and challenged you as you navigated the complexities of your emotions.

Each day with the distance, your heart kept making a way towards Nanami–sensei, slowly weaving themselves into the fabric of your life in ways you couldn’t have anticipated. You found yourself looking forward to his classes with an eagerness that surprised you, your thoughts consumed by the anticipation of seeing him, hearing his voice, and perhaps catching one of those brief, meaningful glances that seemed to hold a world of unspoken understanding.

Your interactions with him took on a new significance. Every exchange, no matter how small, became a moment to savor. You began to notice the little things about him—the way he would adjust his tie with meticulous precision, the way his eyes softened when he spoke to you, the subtle way his lips would curve into a faint smile when you managed to make him laugh. These details became precious to you, feeding the growing affection in your heart.

But with that growing affection came a gnawing anxiety. You were all too aware of the delicate nature of your feelings, and the fear of rejection loomed large in your mind. What if he didn’t feel the same way? What if your admiration was one-sided, a product of your own need for comfort and connection? The thought of losing the quiet understanding and support he offered terrified you, and so you kept your feelings hidden, tucked away in the quiet corners of your heart.

Yet, no matter how hard you tried to keep your emotions in check, they found ways to surface. You noticed that you began to linger after class, hoping for a few extra moments with him. You found yourself volunteering for tasks you knew would require his guidance, just to have an excuse to be near him. And when he asked you how you were doing, his concern evident in his voice, you felt a pang of longing so intense it nearly took your breath away.

And then, one afternoon, as you were gathering your things after class, Nanami Kento and you bumped into each other. You blinked as you stopped. When you realized who he was, you gasped and bowed. You started to apologize to him. There was a hesitation in his movements, an uncharacteristic uncertainty that made your heart race.

“I’m so sorry, Nanami-sensei. I didn’t mean it—” you stammered, your voice trembling with the weight of unsaid words. The apology slipped out before you could fully process it, driven by a fear that you had somehow crossed a line, exposing too much of yourself.

Nanami’s expression remained calm, his eyes studying you with an unreadable intensity. For a moment, you feared that you had made things awkward, that the fragile connection between you might shatter under the pressure of your emotions.

But then, with a gentleness that both surprised and reassured you, he spoke. “May I walk you to your next class?” His voice was low and steady, grounding you in the moment. But there was something else in his tone, a subtle shift that hinted at a deeper concern, a connection that went beyond the formal boundaries of teacher and student.

You hesitated, the words catching in your throat. The offer was simple, yet the way he framed it made it feel like more—a gesture of care, a quiet acknowledgment of the unspoken feelings that had been building between you.

Unable to trust your voice, you nodded, grateful for the reprieve. Together, you fell into step, the silence between you heavy with unsaid thoughts, yet comforting in its familiarity.

As you walked, you couldn’t help but wonder if Nanami sensed the turmoil within you, if he understood the depth of what you had tried to keep hidden. And as the campus buzzed quietly around you, the world outside seemed to fade, leaving just the two of you in a moment suspended in time.

Finally, he spoke, his voice breaking the silence with a gentleness that caught you off guard. “You seem... different lately.” he said, his words careful, as if he was treading on fragile ground. “Is everything alright?”

The concern in his voice was genuine, and it took everything in you to hold back the flood of emotions that his words triggered. You wanted to tell him everything, to pour out your heart and confess the feelings that had been building inside you for so long. But the fear held you back, kept your words locked away.

“I’m okay, sensei.” you managed to say, though your voice wavered with the effort of holding back. “It’s just... a lot to adjust to, I guess.”

He nodded, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes, a question left unasked, and you wondered if he knew—if he could see the turmoil in your heart.

“You don’t have to do it alone, you know.” he said after a moment, his voice soft, almost a whisper. “Whatever it is you’re going through... you can talk to me.”

His words were a lifeline, and for a moment, you were tempted to grab hold, to let yourself be vulnerable in a way you hadn’t allowed yourself to be since your grandfather’s passing. But the fear of what might happen if you did—if you let him see how deeply you had fallen for him—kept you silent.

Instead, you offered him a small, grateful smile. “Thank you, Nanami-sensei. That means a lot.”

He nodded, his eyes searching yours for a moment longer before he looked away, the moment passing as quickly as it had come. But even as the silence returned, you couldn’t help but feel that something had changed between you.

Yuuji, ever the perceptive brother, began to pick up on the changes in you with his usual blend of curiosity and teasing. He’d comment on your newfound enthusiasm for school, his tone lighthearted and playful.

“Wow, someone’s really getting into their classes these days.” he’d say, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “Are you trying to impress a certain someone?”

But behind his teasing, there was always a hint of concern in his eyes. He knew you well enough to sense when something was amiss, even if you were trying your best to mask it. The bond between you and Yuuji has always been strong, built on shared experiences and mutual support. Now, with only the two of you facing the world, his worry for you was palpable.

You were acutely aware of his concern, but discussing your feelings for Nanami–sensei felt like navigating a minefield. It was a topic too delicate, too intricate to lay bare. The emotions you were grappling with were still forming, shifting and evolving in ways you couldn’t fully articulate. The fear of misunderstanding, the potential for things to become awkward or strained, made it almost impossible to open up to Yuuji about it.

So you chose to keep your feelings close, wrapped in the quiet spaces of your heart. Whenever Yuuji’s concern for you surfaced, you would offer a reassuring smile and change the subject, deflecting his probing questions with practiced ease.

“Just trying to find my footing, bro.” you’d say, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside. “You know how it is, trying to make the most of a new start.”

“You sure?” He asks you, a warm concern in his eyes.

You smiled at him. “I do. I’m fine. Really.”

Yuuji would accept your evasions with a nod, his worry temporarily set aside as he shifted his focus to lighter matters. But you could see the question in his eyes, the unspoken concern that lingered even as he attempted to mask it with humor.

In your heart, you appreciated his concern more than you could express. But the feelings you had for Nanami remained a private struggle, something you needed to work through on your own before you could even begin to share it with anyone, even Yuuji. For now, you hold onto the fragile hope that, in time, you would find a way to navigate your emotions, to understand them and perhaps, one day, to share them without fear.

As you continued to go through your days, the quiet moments with Nanami remained a solace and a source of intense longing. His presence in your life was a beacon, guiding you through the uncertainty of your new surroundings. And though you struggled with the weight of your feelings, you found a measure of comfort in knowing that he was there, a constant, reassuring presence in the midst of the turmoil.

Your interactions with Nanami–sensei became the highlights of your day. You’d catch his gaze during class, and for a moment, it felt like the rest of the world faded away. There were times when he’d linger after class, asking if you and Yuuji were settling in okay, if you needed anything. His concern felt genuine, and every time he spoke to you, you felt a warmth spreading through your chest.

But with that warmth came uncertainty. Nanami was your sensei, a mentor figure, someone who had taken on the role of a protector for you and your brother. The lines between student and teacher, between gratitude and affection, were blurring in ways that scared you. You couldn’t help but wonder if he could ever see you as anything more than just a student or a young person in need of guidance.

As the days turned into weeks, you found yourself drawn to him more and more, despite your best efforts to keep your emotions in check. There were moments when you thought you caught something in his eyes, a softness that made you wonder if he might feel something too. But those moments were fleeting, gone before you could fully grasp them.

Still, the longing grew, becoming an ache that you couldn’t ignore. You yearned for more than just his care and concern; you wanted to be closer to him, to know him beyond the walls of the classroom. But the fear of rejection, of ruining the fragile bond you had with him, kept you silent.

The conflict within you was a constant companion, as you tried to navigate your feelings while maintaining the façade of normalcy. You knew that falling in love with Nanami was risky, that it could lead to heartache, but your heart seemed to have a mind of its own, pushing you toward him despite the potential consequences.

You lingered in the classroom long after the other students had left, your movements slow and deliberate as you packed your bag. The quiet of the room was comforting, a stark contrast to the whirlwind of thoughts in your mind. Yuuji had already gone off to his club activities, leaving you alone with your thoughts—and with Nanami.

As you reached for your bag, you felt a pair of eyes on you, an almost tangible weight that drew your gaze. Glancing up, you saw Nanami watching you from his desk, his expression thoughtful, a subtle crease forming between his brows.

His eyes, usually so composed and distant, now held a depth that seemed to reflect his internal contemplation. The warmth of his gaze made your heart skip a beat, and for a moment, the world around you felt like it had narrowed to just the two of you.

You could feel the pull of his attention, the way it lingered on you with a quiet intensity. It was as if he was searching for something, trying to understand a part of you that you hadn’t yet revealed. The weight of his gaze was both comforting and unnerving, a silent conversation that spoke volumes.

Trying to steady yourself, you offered him a tentative smile, hoping it would convey the reassurance you struggled to articulate. But his eyes remained fixed on you, and you wondered what thoughts were running through his mind.

“You’re still here this late.” he said, his voice gentle in the stillness. “Everything alright?”

You hesitated, unsure of how to put your feelings into words. “Yeah, I just… needed a moment to myself.”

Nanami nodded, rising from his chair and walking over to you. He stopped a few feet away, leaning casually against the desk beside you, his arms crossed. Despite his composed demeanor, there was something warm in his gaze, something that made your heart flutter.

“It’s been a lot to adjust to, hasn’t it?” he said, his voice low and steady. “A new town, new school, after everything that’s happened.”

You looked down, your fingers nervously playing with the strap of your bag. “Yeah, it has. But… having you here has helped. More than you know, sensei.”

There was a pause, and when you dared to look up, you saw that his expression had softened even more. The usual sternness in his eyes was gone, replaced by a gentleness that made your breath catch.

“I’m glad I could help you.” Nanami replied quietly. He uncrossed his arms, his hand almost reaching out to you before he stopped himself, letting it fall to his side. “You have been through a lot. It’s only natural to need support.”

You felt a lump form in your throat. The way he spoke, the concern in his voice—it was all too much, and yet not enough. You wanted to say more, to tell him how much his presence meant to you, how much you looked forward to these moments alone with him. But the words wouldn’t come. Instead, you just nodded, your heart pounding in your chest.

Nanami Kento seemed to sense your inner turmoil. He stepped a little closer, his gaze never leaving yours. “If there’s anything you need, anything at all, you know you can come to me, right?”

The sincerity in his voice, the closeness of his presence—it made something inside you ache. You wanted so badly to close the distance between you, to feel his arms around you, to find comfort in his embrace. But you knew you couldn’t. Not yet.

“I know, sensei.” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “Thank you… for everything.”

He smiled then, a small, rare smile that sent warmth flooding through you. “You don’t have to thank me. Just… take care of yourself. And your brother Yuuji, too. He seems like a good young man too.”

You nodded again, but as you turned to leave, you couldn’t help but glance back at him one last time. He was still watching you, that same gentle look in his eyes, and you knew then that your feelings were undeniable.

As you walked out of the classroom, your heart felt heavier with the weight of your unspoken emotions, but there was also a small, flickering hope. Maybe, just maybe, there was a chance that Nanami could feel the same way.

But even then, you were acutely aware of your limitations and the vast knowledge gap that existed between you and Nanami. He was older, more experienced, a man who had seen and done so much more than you could even imagine. It wasn’t just his age or his wisdom that set him apart—it was the way he carried himself, with a quiet confidence and a sense of purpose that you found both admirable and intimidating.

As much as you were drawn to him, a part of you couldn’t help but doubt whether your feelings could ever be returned. You were still so young, barely stepping into adulthood, while Nanami had long since found his place in the world. What could someone like him possibly see in you? The thought lingered in the back of your mind, a constant reminder of the distance between you.

And then there was the fear—the fear that he might not like you in the way you hoped. He was kind to you, yes, and he looked out for you and Yuuji with a care that went beyond mere duty. But did that kindness stem from affection, or was it simply his nature to protect those who needed it? You didn’t know, and the uncertainty gnawed at you.

The truth was, you couldn’t see how he would ever reciprocate your feelings. He was your professor, a mentor figure, someone who had taken on the role of a guardian in your life. To him, you were just a student, someone who needed guidance and support, not a romantic partner. And yet, despite all your doubts and fears, you couldn’t stop the way your heart leapt whenever you were near him.

The rational part of you tried to suppress those feelings, to remind yourself of the unlikelihood of anything ever happening between you. But the heart has a way of ignoring logic, and yours had latched onto Nanami in a way that was becoming impossible to ignore. You were in love with him, even if you couldn’t say it aloud, even if you didn’t think he could ever feel the same way.

So, you kept those feelings locked away, hidden behind polite smiles and carefully chosen words. It was safer that way, less painful than risking rejection. But even as you tried to push your emotions aside, you knew that they were there, just beneath the surface, waiting for the slightest opportunity to break free.

After a particularly long day of classes, you and Yuuji walked home together under the fading light of the setting sun. His friends were going to be busy tonight, so you were able to go home together. He insisted to help you with your school bag, but you kept insisting that it was fine. Yet, he was your older brother (by four minutes) and had pulled that card and carried your bag for you anyway.

The countryside was quiet, the only sounds being the crunch of gravel beneath your shoes and the distant chirping of crickets. Yuuji had been unusually quiet, and you could feel his eyes on you every now and then, as if he was trying to gauge something. Finally, as you neared your home, he spoke up.

"Hey, you’ve been acting kinda different lately." Yuuji said, his tone light but tinged with concern. "Is everything okay?"

You glanced at him, caught off guard by his sudden observation. "Different? What do you mean?"

Yuuji shrugged, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "I don’t know. You just seem… I don’t know, distracted? Like your mind’s somewhere else. I noticed you’ve been staying late at school a lot too."

You felt a flush rise to your cheeks and quickly looked away, hoping he wouldn’t notice. "It’s nothing, really. Just trying to keep up with everything, I guess."

But Yuuji wasn’t so easily convinced. He stopped walking, turning to face you fully. "It’s more than that, isn’t it? You know you can talk to me, right? We’re in this together."

There was no escaping it now. You sighed, knowing that Yuuji wasn’t going to let this go. "It’s just… there’s a lot on my mind. And yeah, I’ve been thinking about someone."

Yuuji raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "Someone? Like who?"

You hesitated, the words stuck in your throat. Finally, you admitted, "It’s Nanami-sensei."

Yuuji blinked, processing this information. "Nanami-sensei? Our professor Nanami? Who’s like… way older than you?"

You winced at the bluntness of his words. "Yeah, I know. It’s not exactly… ideal."

Yuuji softened, realizing that this was something you were struggling with. "Hey, I didn’t mean it like that. I just… didn’t expect it, that’s all. I mean, he’s a good guy, but… you really like him, don’t you?"

You nodded slowly, feeling a mix of relief and anxiety at finally saying it out loud. "I do. But it’s complicated, Yuuji. He’s older....and I don’t even know if he’d ever see me that way....I doubt it. I feel like I’m just setting myself up for disappointment. And it’s not…It’s not right. There’s so much wrong with it. I know.”

Yuuji frowned, deep in thought. "That’s a tough spot to be in. But you know, Nanami-sensei seems to care about you a lot. He’s always checking in on you, making sure you’re okay. Maybe there’s more there than you think."

You shook your head, the doubts creeping back in. "Or maybe he’s just being kind because he knows we’ve been through a lot. It’s not like he’d ever look at me the way I look at him. It’s….It’s wrong.”

Yuuji placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, his touch warm and grounding. “Even if he doesn’t feel the same way, it doesn’t mean you’re not worth it. You deserve to feel some happiness. Even if you never say it to him. Even if you don’t act on it, it’s how you feel. Wrong or right, it’s still human feelings, isn’t it?”

“I just… What should I do? It’s going to be bad, Yuuji. I don’t want to do things that would be bad for me and especially for Nanami-sensei. Over my childish feelings.”

Yuuji’s expression softened, his eyes filled with a mix of empathy and determination. “Listen, it’s not about being childish. Feelings are complicated and real, and they don’t just go away because we want them to. What matters is how you handle them.”

He paused, giving you a reassuring squeeze. “Maybe the best thing you can do right now is to take things one step at a time. Figure out what’s best without rushing or putting yourself in a difficult position."

You listened, trying to absorb his words. They offered a sense of perspective, a reminder that navigating your feelings didn’t have to be an all-or-nothing endeavor. Yuuji’s encouragement made you feel less isolated in your struggle, less like you were facing this alone.

“Thanks, bro.” you said quietly, your voice carrying the weight of both gratitude and the lingering uncertainty. “I guess I just need to give myself a bit more grace, and maybe, take a step back to really understand what’s best.”

Yuuji nodded, a reassuring smile on his face. “Exactly. Give yourself the space to figure things out, and don’t be too hard on yourself. Emotions are messy, and that’s okay, hm?”

You looked at him, grateful for his unwavering support. "Thanks, Yuuji. I really needed to hear that."

He grinned, giving you a playful nudge. "What are brothers for? Besides, I kinda want to see how this turns out."

You couldn’t help but laugh, the tension easing slightly. For now, the future was still uncertain, but at least you knew you had Yuuji by your side, no matter what happened next. And maybe, he was all you needed. Because at the end of the day, you know how it will all work out. How it will all end. But you let yourself dream anyway.

You were idealistic, often finding yourself lost in daydreams where you would gather the courage to approach Nanami. In those fantasies, you imagined asking him for patience, telling him that one day, when the time was right, you would be ready to offer your love completely. You pictured yourself standing before him, your heart in your hands, promising that with time, you could bridge the gap between your worlds.

But deep down, you knew this was nothing more than romantic idealism—a longing to experience a love that felt as profound as the feelings you harbored for him. The desire to be seen, to be cherished by someone as steadfast and admirable as Nanami Kento, was powerful, but it was also grounded in a reality you couldn’t ignore.

As much as you wanted to believe that your love could transcend the differences between you, there was a part of you that understood the truth. You were too young, too inexperienced, and no matter how much you grew, there would always be a gap that time alone couldn’t close. Nanami–sensei wasn’t just older—he was wiser, more grounded, and had already lived through phases of life that you had yet to experience.

The more you thought about it, the more you realized that he likely wouldn’t want to love someone younger, someone who was still finding their place in the world. His kindness toward you, his care and concern, came from a place of responsibility, not from the kind of romantic interest you wished for. You knew that he saw you as a student, maybe even as someone who needed guidance, but not as an equal partner in love.

This understanding brought with it a quiet, bittersweet resignation. You loved Nanami, perhaps more than you ever thought you could love anyone, but you knew that he wasn’t the one for you. The future you imagined, where you and Nanami could be together, was a beautiful dream, but it was just that—a dream.

As much as it hurt to admit, you knew you had to let go of that dream, to accept that some things, no matter how deeply you wished for them, weren’t meant to be.

The days that followed were a mix of emotions—moments where you felt determined to move on, followed by others where your heart clung stubbornly to the hope that maybe, just maybe, things could be different. But as time passed, reality became harder to ignore, and you found yourself slowly coming to terms with the truth.

You still admired Nanami–sensei, still cared for him deeply, but you began to see him in a different light. Instead of focusing on the impossible, you tried to appreciate what you did have—a mentor who genuinely cared for your well-being, someone who had guided you through a difficult period of your life. It wasn’t the romantic love you had dreamed of, but it was something valuable, something that had shaped you in ways you hadn’t fully understood before.

In your quieter moments, when you were alone with your thoughts, you allowed yourself to grieve the loss of that dream. It was painful to let go, but you knew it was necessary. Holding on to something that could never be would only cause more heartache in the long run.

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HE KNOWS THAT HE’S NOT A GOOD MAN. Because what good man can feel like this? Nanami Kento had always prided himself on his ability to maintain control, to keep a clear head no matter the situation. It was a skill honed through years of experience, of facing the harsh realities of life and coming out on the other side with a firm grip on his emotions. But lately, that control had begun to slip, and it all started with you.

At first, he dismissed the subtle changes in his behavior as nothing more than his natural inclination to look after those who needed guidance. You and Yuuji had been through a lot, and it was only right that he, as your teacher, offered support where he could. But as the days turned into weeks, he couldn’t ignore the way his thoughts kept drifting back to you—your quiet resilience, your gentle smiles, the way your eyes lit up when you spoke about something you were passionate about.

It wasn’t long before he realized the truth: he was growing attached to you in ways that went far beyond the boundaries of a student-teacher relationship. It was a realization that troubled him deeply, shaking the foundations of the discipline he had built his life upon.

Nanami noticed the way your eyes lingered on him, the subtle shifts in your demeanor whenever you were around him. He wasn’t blind to the affection you tried so hard to keep hidden, the way you seemed to seek out his presence, even if only for a few moments of conversation. There were times when he almost allowed himself to reciprocate, to let his guard down and acknowledge the feelings that were steadily growing in his chest.

But each time, he pulled back, reminding himself of the stark reality of your situation. You were young, with your whole life ahead of you, full of potential and promise. You deserve someone who could match your energy, someone who could grow with you, not someone like him—someone who had already been worn down by the world, who had seen and done things he wished he could forget.

It wasn’t fair to you, he thought, to burden you with the affections of a man who had lost his youth, who had seen too much to ever be truly carefree again. You deserved more than what he could offer, and the thought of tainting your bright future with the shadows of his past was unbearable.

So, Nanami Kento buried his feelings deep inside, locking them away where they couldn’t hurt you—or him. He told himself that it was the right thing to do, that maintaining a professional distance was the only way to protect you both. But no matter how hard he tried, those feelings remained, lurking just beneath the surface, ready to break free at the slightest provocation.

There were moments when he questioned his resolve, when the weight of his own emotions threatened to overwhelm him. But each time, he steeled himself, knowing that this was a line he couldn’t cross. He cared too much about you to allow himself to be selfish, to act on feelings that could only lead to pain and regret.

In the end, Nanami chose to distance himself, subtly at first, hoping you wouldn’t notice. He still checked in on you, still offered his guidance when you needed it, but he made sure to keep a barrier between you, a wall that kept his emotions firmly in check. It was agonizing, knowing that he was pushing away something that could have been beautiful, but he knew it was the only way to ensure that you remained unscathed by the harsh realities of his world.

You were too precious, too full of life, to be drawn into the darkness that he carried with him. And so, Nanami resolved to watch over you from afar, to be the steady presence you could rely on, but never more than that. It was his duty, his responsibility, to protect you—not just from the dangers of the world, but from himself as well.

No matter how much it hurt, no matter how strong his feelings for you became, Nanami knew he had to bury them deep, where they would never see the light of day. It was the only way to ensure that you remained untouched by the shadows of his past, free to find a love that was worthy of you, even if that love could never be his.

Nanami Kento had been wrestling with his emotions in solitude, believing that burying his feelings was the only way to protect you from the shadows of his past. It was a decision made with the utmost care, a sacrifice he felt necessary to ensure your happiness. But his internal struggle did not go unnoticed by his colleagues, Gojo Satoru and Shoko Ieiri, who were perceptive enough to sense that something was troubling their friend.

One evening, after a particularly challenging day, Gojo and Shoko decided to check in on Nanami. They found him in the teachers’ lounge, sitting alone with a cup of tea, his expression distant. Gojo, ever the perceptive one, noted the pensive look on Nanami’s face and exchanged a glance with Shoko before approaching him.

“Hey, Nanami!” Gojo greeted, his tone casual but with an underlying concern. “You’ve been a bit off lately. Everything okay?”

Nanami looked up, masking his emotions with a practiced smile. “Just a lot on my mind. Nothing to worry about.”

Shoko, who had been quietly observing, took a seat beside him. “It’s clear something’s bothering you. You don’t have to go through this alone, you know.”

Nanami’s smile faltered, and he sighed deeply, feeling the weight of his hidden feelings press heavily on him. “I appreciate your concern. It’s just… some feelings are better left buried.”

Gojo raised an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair. “Feelings, huh? Sounds like there’s more to it than just a heavy workload.”

Nanami hesitated before speaking, his voice low. “I’ve been trying to protect someone from my own shortcomings. It’s not fair for them to be burdened with my past, my complexities.”

Shoko’s eyes softened with understanding. “It sounds like you’re talking about… someone important. Someone who means a lot to you.”

Nanami nodded, his gaze fixed on his tea. “Yes, someone who deserves better than what I can offer. It’s better this way.”

Gojo, always one to push boundaries, leaned forward, his expression serious. “Nanami, it’s okay to feel like love is unattainable. It’s okay to have feelings and to struggle with them. But don’t forget that you’re human too. You deserve happiness, even if it’s complicated. And even if you don’t act on it. Feeling it is not wrong.”

Shoko nodded in agreement, her voice gentle but firm. “You’ve been carrying this burden alone, trying to shield someone else from your own pain. But it’s important to acknowledge your own feelings, to give yourself permission to be vulnerable. Especially for this person.”

Nanami looked between them, feeling a mix of gratitude and frustration. “But what if my feelings could only cause more harm? What if being honest means jeopardizing their well-being? I know it will.”

Gojo shook his head, a small smile forming. “Sometimes, it’s not about whether your feelings will cause harm. It’s about being true to yourself and giving yourself the chance to experience what you deserve. Love isn’t always straightforward, and it’s not always fair. But it’s part of the human experience. Acted on or not, it’s what it is, isn’t it?”

Shoko reached out, placing a comforting hand on Nanami’s shoulder. “You’ve done so much for others. It’s time to think about yourself too. It’s okay to be vulnerable, to let yourself feel and to hope for something more, even if it feels unattainable.”

Nanami’s gaze softened, and he looked down at his hands, the weight of their words sinking in. “I’ve been so focused on protecting them, on making sure they don’t suffer because of me. I didn’t realize how much I’ve neglected my own needs.”

Gojo smiled, his tone light but encouraging. “We all have our struggles. It’s part of being human. Just remember, you’re not alone in this. You have friends who care about you, who want you to be happy.”

Shoko gave him a reassuring nod. “And it’s okay to take steps towards finding your own happiness, even if it means confronting difficult feelings. Even if you don’t think it will be reality. You deserve a chance to experience love, just as much as anyone else.”

Nanami took a deep breath, feeling a mixture of relief and apprehension. “Thank you. It’s good to hear that. I’ve been so focused on the right thing to do that I forgot about what I need.”

Nanami had been immersed in his work that day, focusing on grading papers and preparing for upcoming lectures. He had anticipated a quiet day, free from the usual flurry of students and administrative tasks. It was your day off from school—a rare break for you to focus on your thesis, and he had expected you to be busy with your academic responsibilities.

Yet, as the hours ticked by, Nanami couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. He had noticed a subtle change in your demeanor over the past week, an undercurrent of sadness that was difficult to ignore. He had hoped you’d find solace in your time away from school, but now, the thought of you potentially seeking him out was unsettling.

When he heard the knock on his office door, he glanced up with a mixture of curiosity and concern. He wasn’t expecting you to be here today, not when you had so much on your plate. The sound of the knock was soft but persistent, and it made him pause, his thoughts drifting from his work to the possibility of seeing you.

You stood outside his office, your heart pounding with a mix of anxiety and determination. The past week had been particularly rough—filled with long nights and overwhelming emotions. The weight of your feelings for Nanami, combined with the challenge of coming to terms with them, had left you feeling both vulnerable and resolute. You had been wrestling with your emotions, trying to find a way to move forward, but it was proving more difficult than you had anticipated.

The hallway was quiet, the soft hum of the air conditioning the only sound that accompanied your thoughts. You had wrestled with the decision to come here, weighing the need for closure against the fear of complicating things further. Yet, the idea of not expressing your feelings and finding some resolution gnawed at you, making it hard to focus on anything else.

Taking a deep breath, you decided to face the uncertainty head-on. You lifted your hand and knocked again, this time with more resolve. The sound echoed through the hallway, signaling your intent to have a conversation that had been on your mind for days.

Inside the office, Nanami’s thoughts were interrupted by the knock. He stood up, smoothing his jacket, and approached the door. When he opened it, he was met with the sight of you standing there, looking both determined and apprehensive.

“Is everything alright?” he asked, trying to keep his voice calm despite the surprise and concern he felt.

You looked up at him, a mix of anxiety and resolve in your eyes. “I didn’t mean to intrude. I know it’s my day off, but… I needed to talk to you.”

Nanami stepped aside, gesturing for you to enter. “Of course. Come in.”

You entered his office, feeling the comforting, yet intimidating, presence of the space that had been a backdrop to many of your interactions. The room was orderly, with neatly arranged papers and a sense of calm that contrasted with the storm of emotions you were feeling.

As you settled into a chair, Nanami took his place behind his desk, his gaze steady and attentive. “What’s on your mind?”

You took a moment to gather your thoughts, feeling the weight of your emotions pressing against your resolve. “I’ve been struggling with my feelings for you. It’s been difficult to process, and I realized that I need some closure. I thought it might help if I talked to you about it.”

Nanami listened, his expression a mix of empathy and sadness. He had been preparing for this conversation, though not in the way he had hoped. The feelings he had tried so hard to suppress now seemed to rise to the surface, as he saw the vulnerability in your eyes.

“It’s not easy to hear.” Nanami said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “And it’s even harder to find the right words. I’ve been trying to navigate this situation carefully, but I realize now that you deserve more than just silence.”

You looked up at him, finding his smile to be tinged with a deep sadness that made your heart ache. Nanami crossed his arms, his gaze meeting yours with a weight of unspoken emotions.

“Most of all, my little one….” he continued, his voice steady but filled with a profound melancholy. “You deserve better than an old, unpassionate man like me.”

The words hung in the air between you, a painful truth that cut through the space. His admission, though gentle, was laced with a somber acknowledgment of the reality that had become so clear. It was as if he was trying to shield you from the hurt of unfulfilled expectations while grappling with his own feelings of inadequacy.

You could see the strain in his eyes, the conflict of wanting to comfort you while also maintaining the boundaries he felt were necessary. It was a moment of raw honesty, one that left you with a deep sense of both empathy and sorrow.

The room seemed to hold its breath as Nanami's words settled between you. His gaze remained steady, but there was an undeniable vulnerability in his eyes, a silent acknowledgment of the complexities that had become apparent.

You swallowed hard, the weight of his confession pressing heavily on you. “I didn’t come here expecting an easy answer, or my feelings to be returned, sensei.” you said softly, trying to steady your voice. “I just needed to express what I’ve been feeling and to understand where we stand.”

Nanami nodded, his expression a mixture of relief and sadness. “I appreciate your courage in coming forward. It’s not easy to confront these feelings, especially when the outcome is uncertain.”

There was a pause as you both took a moment to absorb the gravity of the conversation. Nanami leaned forward slightly, his hands resting on the desk as if trying to ground himself in the face of his emotions.

“I want you to know that my feelings for you are genuine. Even if they're not what should be. But I also understand that the situation we’re in is far from ideal. It’s not just about what I want but what’s best for you. What you need matters more than what I want.”

You took a deep breath, feeling the tears you had been holding back threatening to spill. “I understand. I really do. It’s just… hard to accept that something so strong and real can’t find a way to work out.”

Nanami’s gaze softened, and he reached out, resting his hand gently on top of yours. The contact was brief but comforting, a silent gesture of support and understanding.

“It’s difficult, and it’s painful. But sometimes, love means making choices that are hard and painful for the sake of someone else’s well–being. Love is letting go, too. And I believe that’s what I need to do now. Because if my love for you is true, then I would let you go. And let you live a life that you deserve, hm?”

You nodded, feeling the sting of his words but also the clarity they brought. “Thank you for being honest with me. I guess I needed to hear this, to understand where we really stand. To…to have closure.”

Nanami offered a sad smile, one that seemed to carry the weight of his own regrets and hopes for you. “I hope you find someone who can truly cherish you for who you are. You deserve someone who can give you the kind of love and support that I might not be able to offer.”

The finality of his words hung in the air, and you could sense the depth of his feelings—both for you and the situation you found yourselves in. As you stood up to leave, you felt a sense of bittersweet closure, a recognition of the reality that had to be faced.

“Take care of yourself, little one.” Nanami said softly as you made your way to the door. ”I hope you'll always be happy."

You offered him a small, grateful smile, a mixture of sadness and appreciation in your eyes. “Thank you, Nanami–sensei. I’ll keep that in mind.”

As you stepped out of his office, the weight of the conversation settled heavily on your shoulders. But along with the heaviness, there was also a sense of resolution. You had faced your feelings head-on, and though the outcome wasn’t what you had hoped for, you felt a renewed sense of clarity and a readiness to move forward.

Nanami Kento watched you go, his heart heavy but his mind clear. He hoped, more than anything, that you would find the happiness and love that you deserved, even if it was not with him. He'd have to leave soon. He thinks that it would be better, if he keeps his distance from now on. You do not need him anymore. And that's for the best.

And as the door closed behind you, he allowed himself a moment of reflection, grappling with the bittersweet nature of his own emotions and the hope that, in time, both of you would find a path that led to fulfillment and peace.

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spiteless-xo · 5 months ago

Text

╰┈➤ aurora borealis — liking — part 1/5 ⋙ A snapshot over five years of how your relationship with Satoru Gojo develops.

ft. satoru gojo / fem!reader wc. 7k cw. sfw but explicit content in future chapters - minors do not interact, explicit language, friends to lovers, alcohol, slow burn, pining, sexual tension, lewd imagery, miscommunication, don't try this at home, major character death, potential manga spoilers, second person POV

Masterlist ⋆ Next

2013.

Satoru Gojo.

He’s the friend of a friend of a friend. You see him around school sometimes, but you’ve never talked to him before.

He’s popular— really popular. You would have to go out of your way not to know who The Satoru Gojo is. Loud-mouthed, arrogant, and over six feet tall with shocking white hair.

Everyone knows who Satoru Gojo is.

And that’s why you’re caught off guard when he introduces himself to you. His voice is small—meek—and his back curves downward to make him seem less imposing. He can’t quite meet your eyes when he introduces himself, his bright, baby blues bouncing between your face and his shakey, outstretched hand between you.

You laugh incredulously and it almost seems like he flinches.

He presses his palm into his stomach, trailing up the thick fabric of his black hoodie until it reaches his throat before fingering at the hair at the back of his neck. “What’s… what’s so funny?” he asks, eyes on the floor.

“I know who you are,” you say. You gesture to the large printout of Gojo as a child, pinned to a nearby wall, vandalized with a marker mustache and decorated with balloon stickers. “You’re the Birthday Boy.”

He laughs, but it comes out more like a cough. “Oh, yeah… yeah, that’s me.” Gojo’s lips purse, pressing into the corner of his mouth as he shoves both hands into the centre pocket of his hoodie. He seems almost… bashful. “Sorry, I’ll stop bothering you.”

Suddenly, you feel guilty.

He turns to make his way out of the kitchen, but you reach out and grab his elbow, keeping him in place. He glances at you from over his shoulder, eyebrow cocked.

“I’m sorry, I was being rude,” you say, and his shoulders seem to relax. “Can we start over?”

He laughs—genuinely, this time—and his eyes crinkle as deep, long dimples appear on either side of his smile. “Ok, sure,” he says, returning to face you. He pulls his hand from his pocket, holding it out for you to shake. “My name is Satoru Gojo.”

You take his hand in yours, shaking it gently as you introduce yourself. He’s tall, so you’re not surprised when his hand dwarfs yours. His fingers are long and thin and incredibly cold and when you pull away, you find yourself curling your hand into a fist to try to bring warmth back to your fingers.

“It’s nice to meet you,” you say. “It’s your birthday today, right?”

“Something like that,” he says, his smile growing lazy as he melts into the kitchen counter behind him. He rests his elbows on the granite, one leg bent to support his weight while the other stretches out in front. The fabric of his hoodie smooths across his chest but doesn’t quite pull taut.

“How old are you turning?”

“Twenty-four.”

“You’re a little old to still be in school, don’t you think?”

He snorts, shooting you a narrowed look. “Are you always this rude to people you barely know?” You shrink back from his comment but feel immediate relief when he breaks out into another smile. “I’m just kidding.”

“Sorry,” you say for the second time tonight. “I promise I’m usually really friendly and nice.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” he hums, shrugging. “And yeah, maybe I am a little old to still be working on my undergrad, but there’s nothing wrong with taking my time. And what about you? Planning on gradding in four years, getting married, and popping out kids before the geriatric age of thirty?”

His mouth hangs open in mock-shock and you roll your eyes.

“Uh, no. I think I’m going to take five years.”

“Heaven forbid!”

“Besides, what’s wrong with planning out my life?”

“Wait, was I actually right?” he laughs when your eyes dart away. “You can’t be serious. You’re one of those girls that goes to university just to find a husband?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t not say that.” You frown at him in an effort to tame his giggling, but he just laughs harder. “What’s the rush? Don’t want to be a Christmas Cake?”

“Ok, now you’re the one being rude,” you huff, crossing your arms over your chest. Gojo raises his hands in mock surrender, but his face is still twisted into a teasing smirk. “I just know what I want from life so I’m taking steps to be where I want to be.”

“So, who’s the lucky guy?” Gojo nods through the doorway of the kitchen into the living room, gesturing to all of the party guests in the other room. “And does he know about your strict timeline?”

You shuffle your weight from one foot to the other, avoiding Gojo’s eyes when you speak next. “Well… I don’t exactly have a boyfriend, yet—”

“You can’t be serious!” He presses an arm to his stomach as he laughs, nearly knocking himself off-balance. “All these plans and no boyfriend? How old are you?”

“I’m twenty-two.”

“Ooo, it’s going to be tight.” Gojo stands up to his full height, grinning down at you as he holds up his hand with a single finger to the ceiling. “That’s one year of dating—” he raises another finger, “—two years before he proposes—” another finger, “—three years at the absolute soonest before you get married.”

“And then I’ll be twenty-five,” you say, like you’ve won.

“Yeah, because everything always works out exactly how you expect it to.”

“Of course, not. He might propose early.”

Gojo laughs. He runs his hand through his hair and then down the back of his neck until his fingers hook around the black blindfold still tied around him. A discarded accessory from an earlier game of Pin the Tail on the Birthday Boy.

“I like you.”

You’re caught off guard by his comment. Your cheeks burn hot as you blink up at him, but before you can respond, he’s already talking, again.

“So, if not your boyfriend, then who’d you come here with?”

“Uh… my roommate has a class with one of your friends, I think, and she extended us the invitation,” you explain, stumbling over your words—why are you getting so flustered?

“Oh, yeah? Who’s your roommate? Maybe I know her.”

“Kento Nanami.”

“Strange name for a girl,” he quips, and you roll your eyes. “Bet she’s ugly like a dog.”

“What a rude thing to say about my friend,” you say, affronted, but Gojo’s mischievous smile has you laughing around your words.

“Hey, you got a couple jabs in—it’s only fair I get to tease you a lil, too,” he hums, turning his attention back to the mass of party guests in the other room. “I know that name… Nanami. He’s in Uta’s class, right?”

“Um, I’m not sure—”

“Tall, awkward, blonde kid?” Gojo waves his hand vaguely around Nanami’s height. “Yeah, I definitely know him. Uta talks about that guy a lot… are you into him?”

You jerk backwards, disgusted. “No, we’re just friends.”

He shoots you a look of disbelief and then makes an over-exaggerated wink. “Sure ya are.”

“I’m serious,” you insist as Gojo rolls his eyes.

“He’s exactly the type of guy that someone like you—someone with plans and goals—is looking for. Of course, you’re into him.”

“I’m not,” you say again, but Gojo’s not even looking at you anymore. His attention is back at the party guests in the other room. “He’s not my type. I’m looking for someone more…”

“Fun?” Gojo finishes, grinning down at you.

You look away quickly with a scowl on your face. “I—I don’t know. Just… I don’t like him like that, ok?”

“Sure, whatever you say, princess.” Gojo shrugs, lacing his hands behind his head as he stands tall beside you. “I gotta go cut some cake, but I’ll come find you later.”

He shoots you a playful wink before walking off, leaving you stammering in his wake. You almost reach out for him again, wanting to pull him back into you and prolong the conversation, but with a few long strides, he’s already in the other room, welcomed by a series of cheers from the other guests.

“Have no fear, the Birthday Boy is here!” Gojo yells, stretching out his arms as he walks into the crowd.

You roll your eyes— there’s that arrogance he’s known for.

You look through the cupboards in the kitchen in search of a glass of water (your original reason for wandering into the kitchen, before you were interrupted by Satoru Gojo), and find an assortment of mugs. They’re all mismatched, likely thrifted or gifted, so you grab the first one that catches your eye before bringing it to the sink to get some water.

From the kitchen, the noise in the other room is dampened. You can hear bits and pieces of conversation from some guests standing near the doorway, Gojo yelling for cake, and the music playing from the TV. It’s a bit overwhelming—all that noise—so you enjoy the silence and solitude of the kitchen for as long as you can before returning to the party for cake, leaving your empty mug in the sink.

You push past a few people before finding Nanami. He’s leaned against the far wall by himself, sipping casually from a red solo cup as he observes the other party guests. You laugh to yourself as you approach, he’s the one who wanted to go to this party in the first place, and yet he hasn’t talked to anyone all night long.

He notices you as you walk up and his brows raise in acknowledgement, lowering the cup from his lips as you lean back on the wall beside him. “Where did you go?” he asks.

“I went to the kitchen for some water.”

From where you’re standing, you have a direct line of sight of the couch where Gojo has made himself comfortable. He has a girl on either side of him—both scowling—and a too-small party hat affixed to his head.

His long arms are thrown across the back of the couch, around each of the girls’ bodies. You watch one hand dip down behind one of the girls’ backs and you see her squeal as Gojo pinches her side. She frowns at him, slapping him across the chest in retaliation, but he just laughs and does it again.

You shift your weight, crossing your arms over your chest and moving your attention over to Nanami, instead. He’s watching Gojo, too, and you see the tendon in his jaw tensing.

“Are there a lot of people here that you know?” you ask, and he doesn’t shift away his attention when he responds.

“Just my TA. I haven’t seen any students from class.”

“Oh, the girl that invited us, right? Have you talked to her yet?”

“No,” Nanami sighs. He ducks his head as he takes a sip from his drink, shifting his attention to you when he lowers his cup. “She’s the one over there—Utahime.”

You follow his nod back to the couch and your lips press into a tight, thin line. “The one with Gojo?”

“Unfortunately.”

Gojo’s attention is solely focused on Utahime, now. Both of his hands circle her waist as he tickles her sides. She’s yelling at him, her face scrunched in anger, but you can’t quite make out what she’s saying to him. The girl on Gojo’s opposite side seems grateful that Gojo is leaving her alone and has since lit up a cigarette.

“Are they… together?” you ask.

“She wouldn’t date someone like him,” Nanami scoffs, but you note the lack of conviction in his tone.

“That’s the TA you have a crush on, right?” you ask, looking up at Nanami. You watch his cheeks flush pink as he tries to stammer a response, but you press on. “The masters student teaching your class, right?”

“I do not have a crush on her,” Nanami insists, but his hand comes up to pull the collar of his shirt away from his throat. “I’m not a teenager.”

“You can still have a crush on someone as an adult,” you say, enjoying how visibly embarrassed Nanami is becoming. “I really think you should try to talk to her tonight. She invited you for a reason.”

“She was just being polite.”

“Then why aren’t any of your other classmates here?” you note, and he stays silent. “You’re graduating this year and then she won’t be your TA anymore. Make a move on her.”

Nanami waves his hand in dismissal, clearly finished with this conversation, but you’re not.

“I was talking to Gojo in the kitchen, and he knew who you were.”

Nanami shoots you a sidelong glance. “Ok?”

“He knew your name. And what you look like.”

“Ok?” Nanami repeats, lost.

“Utahime told him about you,” you say, like it’s obvious. “Why would she tell him about you?”

Nanami shakes his head. “I… I don’t know.”

You want to throttle him. How could someone so smart be so dense?

Before you get a chance to really spell it out for him, all of the lights shut off, submerging you all in darkness. The crowd starts a horribly off-key rendition of the Happy Birthday Song as a walking fire hazard parts the sea of people. Two students you don’t recognize carry the cake to the coffee table in front of Gojo, alight with twenty-four candles, before stepping aside to join the other singers.

You watch Gojo stare down at the cake, the flames casting flickering shadows across his face. He grins, running his tongue across his teeth in delight before taking a comically long inhale.

Blue eyes flick up to meet yours just before the candles go out.

Utahime and the other girl on the couch dish out slices of cake to the party guests as Gojo plates them. There’s no rhyme or reason to his cuts, so the slices are all awkward shapes and sizes. Utahime is visibly annoyed every time she picks up a plate that Gojo has slapped a slice on.

You nudge Nanami hard as Utahime serves cake to some of the guests standing near the two of you, before returning to grab more.

“This is your chance,” you hiss, trying to be discrete. “When she gives you a piece of cake, talk to her.”

“She’s busy,” Nanami says, fingers tapping against the side of his cup. “I don’t want to interrupt her.”

You nod across the room to the other girl that’s dishing out cake. “The other girl can hand out cake while you’re talking to Utahime.”

Nanami shakes his head, looking down at his feet and curling his shoulders like he’s trying to disappear.

“Come on,” you urge, nudging him again as Utahime nears.

She keeps her head low as she approaches, jutting her hands out to give you both a plate of cake. She has her head ducked low, too—her face hidden by her blunt-cut bangs.

You move your hands away from the plate, refusing to accept it. “Oh, are there any smaller pieces?” you ask.

Utahime looks up at you, her eyes darting to Nanami before returning to your face. She groans and rolls her eyes, “I don’t think so. That idiot doesn’t know how to cut cake so they’re all—” She holds up the plates with an apologetic look, gesturing to the mounds of dessert slopped onto the plate, “—like this. You don’t have to eat it all.”

You laugh, taking one of the plates from her while Nanami takes the other. “Ok, well, thank you! What was your name, sorry?”

“Utahime,” she smiles.

The tension between Utahime and Nanami is so thick you could cut it with a knife. They’re both trying to pretend like they don’t notice each other, while still sneaking glances at one another.

Luckily, with her response, you’re able to get them to finally acknowledge one another.

“Oh! You’re Nanami’s TA, right?” you say, feigning excitement as you nudge Nanami in the side. Utahime and Nanami’s eyes meet, and you watch Utahime quickly look away with a dusting of pink across her cheeks. “Nanami speaks very highly of you, I feel like I already know you.”

You can feel Nanami’s irritation from your comment—your admission that he fawns about her in private—but it melts quickly when Utahime looks up at him with wide, eager eyes. “Really?”

Nanami smiles, laughing softly like it catches him off guard, and he nods. “Yes, you’ve been such a great mentor to me this past year. You’re an excellent teacher.”

Her smile widens and she tucks a piece of hair behind her ear. “I’m glad you were able to make it tonight. It’s nice to see you outside of class for once.”

Just as you’re about to sneak away and leave the duo alone, you see a dark shape come up from behind Utahime. Long arms stretch over her shoulders before wrapping around her, pulling her tight against Satoru Gojo’s broad chest.

“Uta - hime!” he sings, settling his chin on the top of her head with a pout. He's still wearing that stupid party hat. “What are you doing? There’s cake that needs to be handed out.”

Her smile disappears instantly, shifting quickly into a sharp scowl as she shoves Gojo’s arms off of her shoulders before whirling around to push at his chest. She’s much smaller than he is, so he feigns a stumble from the strength of her shove.

“Get your hands off of me,” she hisses.

He juts his lower lip out even further and you feel Nanami stiffen at your side. “Why are you being so mean to me on my birthday, Utahime?”

“It’s not your—”

You don’t want to lose this opportunity for Nanami to talk with Utahime, so you bite your tongue and step forward to reach for Gojo’s arm, linking it with yours. “Oh, happy birthday! I’ve been meaning to talk with you!”

“Huh?” Gojo looks down at you quizically, “You have?” He doesn’t resist when you pull him away, dragging him away from the two and their blossoming relationship.

“Yes…” you say, the words trailing off as you focus on weaving through the crowd. You just need to get far enough that Gojo forgets about Utahime—where’s that other girl he was bothering? Maybe you can lead him to her, instead.

“We talked earlier.” Gojo sounds less and less impressed as you tug him to the opposite side of the room. You’re about to pull him into the kitchen when he plants his feet on the ground and levels you with a sly look. “Couldn’t get enough of me, eh? I told you I’d come find you later.”

You crinkle your nose up at him, annoyed, but still feeling heat rushing to your cheeks from the way he wiggles his eyebrows at you. You glance back through the crowd, seeing glimpses of Utahime and Nanami together—thankfully, it seems like they’ve returned to their conversation. Utahime is laughing behind her hand and Nanami is fingering the collar of his shirt.

“Are you and that girl together?”

“Huh? Utahime?” he snorts. “Don’t let her hear you asking that—she’d rather die than have people think we’re dating.”

You exhale a heavy sigh of relief. That’s good news.

“Why?” His tone has you returning your attention to him as he peers down at you, eyebrow cocked. “You gotta thing for bangs?”

“No,” you frown. “My friend is interested in her, so I hoping they can talk and then maybe…” you trail off with a shrug and Gojo nods in understanding.

“I thought that guy looked familiar,” he says. “That’s your roommate, right?”

“Yeah, Nanami.”

“The Dog,” he says, grinning when you scowl at him. He bares his teeth, growling lowly before snapping toward you, biting at the air in front of your face.

You turn away from him with a groan and try to step back, away from his space. But Gojo’s arm is still linked with yours, so he holds you close, capitalizing on your misstep by pulling you even closer.

“You have nothing to worry about me and Uta, ‘kay? She’s not my type.” He grins down at you wolfishly as he speaks.

You feel your body bloom with heat as sweat begins to form along the nape of your neck. Gojo’s face is all sharp edges and angles: the line of his jaw, the cut of his cheekbones, and the point on each of his canines. You gulp, eyes widening as your gaze travels up to his darkened eyes.

“Come to think of it,” he says, speaking slowly and deliberately. You watch the pink of his tongue moving around the hard sounds of each word. “I don’t think you’re my type, either.”

The heat in his gaze compels you to ask, “What’s your type?”

“Girls that want to fuck me.”

You feel your heart lurch into your throat as Gojo leans in closer. His eyes travel across your face to your mouth and his tongue darts out to run across his lower lip in a way that has you mirroring his movements. His gaze dips lower, to your throat, and you feel as if he can see the pounding of your pulse through the artery in your neck.

“Am I right?” he asks, eyes swinging back up to meet yours. “Or do you want to fuck me?”

You waver under the intensity of his gaze—bright, blue eyes that bore through you until you feel the heat of his look on the back of your head. You find yourself at a loss for words, stammering up at him as you make a feeble attempt to step out of his grip. The only thing keeping your bodies apart is your hand at your chest, holding the plate of cake that Utahime gave you, but Gojo’s chest is pressed right against the soft paper plate, bending it upwards.

His hand comes up, index finger pointed as he collects a dollop of whipped cream on the tip. You watch with rapt attention as he brings the digit up to his mouth, wet lips wrapping around his finger as he slowly licks the cream from the tip.

“Yum,” he says, and you feel your mouth go dry.

“Satoru, leave the girl alone.”

Gojo’s face twists into a pout, eyes flicking up to meet something behind you, before releasing you and returning to his full height. You gasp for air—as if you hadn’t taken a breath during the entire exchange—and stumble backwards from the loss of his grip. You feel large, warm hands grab at your upper arms, steadying you, before you hear the voice again. This time, he says your name.

“Are you alright?”

You turn your head to meet the voice and although his tone and touch are soft, the man’s smile is sinister in a way that makes your stomach twist—your skin is still hot from Gojo’s earlier stunt and this matching look isn’t making it any better, so you take a step away.

“Yes, I’m fine, thank you.” You offer him a grateful smile, but it feels strained.

“Why are you bothering us?” Gojo groans, and he reaches forward to grab the plate of cake from your shakey hands, claiming it as his own. “Don’t you have party guests to entertain, Suguru?”

Suguru Geto—you recognize him immediately after Gojo says his name. He’s another student in your school who’s just as popular as Satoru Gojo. The two of them are always together, and you can almost feel the familiarity between them as Gojo melts against the wall under Geto’s disapproving stare.

“Might I remind you that this is, technically, your party, Satoru?”

Gojo waves his hand in dismissal. “Yeah, but you’re the one hosting.”

“You haven’t finished cutting the cake.”

Another handwave. “Shoko can do it. Or you, Suguru, since you’re so bored you have to interrupt my conversations.”

Geto shakes his head, dropping the subject. Instead, he nods toward Nanami and Utahime, who have now moved to sit together on the couch. You notice that they’re sitting close enough that their thighs are pressed against one another—the sight makes your heart swell with happiness.

“Looks like Uta found the courage to talk to…” Geto trails off, lips pursed in thought.

“Nanami,” you say, and Geto looks down at you curiously.

“Yes. Nanami,” he repeats as the corner of his mouth twitches into a small smile.

“Yeah, turns out: Nanami’s into her, too,” Gojo says. You watch him start to eat the cake with his hands—scooping each bite with his middle and ring fingers, cradling the dessert up to his mouth before sucking it off.

You feel very, very warm.

“How did you discover that?” Geto asks, but he’s looking down at you.

Around a mouthful of his own fingers, Gojo says, “This one, here,” and he nods down at you.

“I’m Nanami’s roommate,” you supply, shrinking under the gaze of the two men beside you. “He’s been wanting to talk to her for a while, but he always has some excuse not to.”

Geto hums in consideration, returning his attention to the two on the couch. “It’s funny how things work out like that,” he says. “You know what they say about sexual tension.”

“What?” Gojo asks with whipped cream on his lips.

“That if you feel it, then it’s mutual.”

Gojo runs his thumb over his lips, cleaning off the mess before sucking the finger into his mouth. You feel your throat go dry as you watch him, eyes focused on the way his lips circle the digit, lips pursing lewdly before he pulls his thumb out with a wet pop! You can see a string of saliva trailing from the end of his finger to his lips. He seems so distracted by what’s left of the cake on his plate that you’re not even sure if he’s listening to what Geto is saying.

Hell, you’re hardly paying attention to what Geto’s saying.

"You know, Satoru, if Utahime gets a boyfriend, I doubt she'll still chauffer you around town the way she does now."

Gojo frowns, deep lines etching between his brows as he looks up from the plate at Geto. "What do you mean? She has to drive me."

"Satoru doesn't know how to drive," Geto explains, looking down at you with a wink.

"Because I get motion sick," Gojo says, frowning deeper. "I need Uta to drive me otherwise I'll get sick everywhere."

"Perhaps it's time for you to get your license, Satoru," Geto says. He's biting back a smile that only seems to make Gojo more upset. "I'm sure you wouldn't get motion sick if you yourself were the driver."

Gojo waves his hand in dismissal. "That doesn't sound right, at all. I need to be driven," he insists.

Geto shakes his head, chuckling softly before looking down at you. “Well, it was nice to meet you. I’m sure we’ll see each other again, sometime.” He nods across the room at Nanami and Utahime before stepping away from you and Gojo and returning to the party.

As you watch him leave, you realize that you never introduced yourself to him. Yet, he knew your name.

“Bye, Suguru,” Gojo sings, waving at Geto’s retreating figure by clapping his fingers against his palm. When he shifts his attention back to you, he’s licking the last of the icing off of his plate. “Now, then… where were we?” He discards the plate onto a nearby table before steeling you with his full attention.

His lips are shiny with saliva and sugar and you look away when his tongue darts out the clean it off.

“Actually,” you start, raising your hands to keep Gojo away when he leans into your space, “I’m getting a little tired—I think I’m going to go home.”

He frowns. “Already? What about your roommate, you’re just going to leave him here?”

You both turn to see the pair laughing and Nanami’s hand resting on Utahime’s knee. “I think he’ll be fine,” you say.

Gojo’s pouting again when you look over at him. You wonder if this look works on everyone—the big, blue, puppy-dog eyes and the soft, pink lip jutted out—he seems to be using it a lot, tonight.

“You really don't want to stay and talk with some girl you barely know when you have a room full of friends, do you?”

He seems hurt and you have to look away when your heart starts to flutter in your chest. “Well, I’m trying to get to know you better, but you’re blowing me off. Do you know how nervous I was to introduce myself to you? And just now, when I thought things were going well, you tell me you want to leave?”

“Why would you be nervous to introduce yourself to me?” you scoff. You feel your cheeks burn and you can feel yourself start to sweat. “I’m not—I’m a nobody.”

Gojo snorts, shooting you a look of disbelief. “Every somebody was once a nobody. So, you’re not going anywhere, now that I have you. Come on, let me show you something.”

Before you have a chance to protest or make up some sort of lame excuse, he’s got your hand in his and he’s leading you back into the kitchen. He walks you to the sink, where he drops your hand, and then leans forward over the counter to work open the screen of the kitchen window.

You feel some of the sugary residue on your fingers from the cake on his hands and you rub your hands together to try to clean them off. “What are you doing?” you ask.

“You’ll see,” he sings, prying the screen off the window and setting it down on the ground. He slides open the pane and then gestures to the now-open window with a smile on his face. “Do you wanna go first?”

He laughs at your confused expression, wrapping his hands around the frame of the window as he steps his foot onto the counter. “Ok, fine—I’ll go first.”

And then he climbs outside.

You rush over to the window, hopping onto the kitchen sink to peer outside, but you don’t see him. The kitchen is on the second floor, so if he fell, he would’ve landed directly on the concrete below—but you don’t see him.

“I’m over here, dummy,” he scoffs, and you turn your head to see him sitting on the portico—the small roof overtop of the front door. “What? You thought I jumped out the window?”

“I really don’t know what to expect, when it comes to you,” you say, feeling your heart rate relax at the sight of Gojo safe.

He grins wider from your comment and extends his hand out to you. “Come on. I’ll help you up.”

You’re not sure why you take his hand, but you do, and the next thing you know, he’s dragging you out of the window and into the open air. Your legs and arms scramble for purchase on anything, your hand grabbing at the sleeve of his hoodie while he holds your opposite hand tight.

“Geez, relax. I’m not going to drop you,” he assures, but you still feel your heart fall into your stomach when—for just a moment—your feet dangle in the air.

Gojo pulls you up onto the roof with him, holding you tight against his chest as your heart rattles against your ribcage and you struggle to catch your breath. “What—the—fuck?” you pant, eyeing him wildly.

“You’re fine.”

He cradles the back of your head in his palm, bringing your face into the crook of his neck as he holds you until your body stops trembling.

Heights freak you out, but you’ve never reacted quite like this before. Heart racing, hands shaking, sweat running down your back—it’s unusual.

But Gojo doesn’t comment on it at all. He just holds you close against him until your breathing returns to normal and you push yourself away from his chest. “You’re good,” he says, but his eyes are looking up at the sky.

You follow his gaze, expecting to see a sky full of stars, but all you see are clouds. You try not to worry about how your legs are draped over Gojo’s thighs on either side of the roof’s peak—you’re practically sitting in his lap!

“Sometimes, you can see the northern lights from here, especially around this time of year,” he says. Both of his hands have moved to your lower back, cradling you close to his body as he cranes his head up. “Doesn’t seem like it’s a good night for it, tonight.”

“That’s too bad,” you say. “I’ve never seen the northern lights.”

“That sucks, they’re really cool.”

You can feel his breath tickle your face when he speaks—it smells sweet.

“Maybe next time,” you say.

Gojo laughs. “This time, next year, Suguru and I are going to be travelling around the world. Next time, we won’t be able to see them together.”

You look down at him to see him already staring at you. Big, blue eyes blinking at you owlishly as your faces sit only inches apart.

You feel his hands fiddling with the fabric of your shirt, wiggling their way underneath the bottom hem until cold, slender fingers press into the bare skin of your lower back. Your back arches away from the touch, forcing your chest against Gojo’s and he grins.

“Hey! Your hands are freezing!”

“Aw, come on, I’m just tryin’ to warm ‘em up,” he wines. He sprawls his hands across your lower back, palms pressed into the muscle while his fingers slot into the grooves of your spine. You try to squirm away from his touch, but there’s nowhere to go.

“I’m going to fall off the roof if you keep doing this.”

“Nah, I’d catch you.”

Your hands curl into fists around the fabric of his hoodie while you squirm in his lap. He buries his face into the crook of your neck and laughs, warm air fanning across your skin.

“Come on, it’s not that bad,” he says.

You hiss a sharp breath when his hands start to inch their way up your back, exposing more skin to the cool December air—such a sharp contrast to the warmth you feel in the rest of your body from Gojo’s laughter into your neck.

You swear you can feel sticky lips mouthing at your skin, but your heart is pounding so loudly in your chest that you’re starting to feel nauseous. It must be the fear of falling, you think, but even though you’re squirming away from his ice-cold fingers, in Gojo's arms you feel oddly… safe.

“Do you think Uta and the Dog are going to get married soon?” he asks, voice muffled.

“I don’t know. They barely know each other.”

“So?” Satoru pulls his head from your shoulder to look at your face. Your skin feels so warm that his cool fingers now feel like a nice reprieve from the heat, rather than an annoyance. “When you know, you know.”

“What, like love at first sight?” you blurt out around a laugh. “You don’t believe in that, do you?”

He frowns. “Of course, I do.”

You level Gojo with an incredulous look but the determination in his face doesn’t waver. Your gaze bounces between each of his eyes and you feel like you could get lost in the depths of their blue. They seem softer now than they did inside, not quite as sharp and bright. It must be because it's so dark outside, you reason. With the clouds covering the moon, there's not much light out here aside from the dull glow from the coloured lights along Geto's roof.

You clear your throat awkwardly, shifting your gaze to the house’s roof behind his shoulder when you realize you’ve been staring at him. “How old is Utahime?”

“Past her prime,” Gojo says quickly, and you laugh despite yourself.

“Then yeah, they’ll get married soon.”

Gojo laughs, pulling you closer with his palms on your back. “Are you gonna be jealous if they get married before you do?”

“No, of course not,” you scoff. “Just as long as I have a date to their wedding, I’ll be happy.”

“I’m sure you will,” he hums, “and if not, you can always be my date.”

“No way,” you dismiss quickly.

You can practically hear him pouting, even with your gaze elsewhere. “Why not? I’d be a really good date.”

“Satoru? Is that you out there?”

Gojo’s hands fall back down to your hips and he cranes his neck to look at the open kitchen window. Leaning out is the girl from earlier—the one that was sitting on the couch with Gojo and Utahime.

“Oh. Hey, Shoko,” he says while you tug your shirt down to cover your exposed skin. You’re grateful for the interruption so your heart rate can return to normal. “What’s up?”

“Suguru doesn’t like it when you sit out there—you know that. You ruin all the shingles on his roof.”

“What he doesn’t know, won’t hurt him.”

Shoko doesn’t respond. She takes a long drag from her cigarette, the cherry burning red, before exhaling heavily into the open air. “Yeah, sure.”

“Please, don’t tell him,” Gojo begs. “We’re waiting to see the northern lights.”

She shrugs lazily, taking another drag from her cigarette before looking up at the sky with her exhale. “Doesn’t look like a good night for them.”

“Yeah, it’s too bad,” he says, frowning.

“Maybe we’ll see them if we’re patient enough,” you say. Although you don’t want Geto to get mad at you, there’s a part of you that’s having fun out here on the roof with Gojo—you’re not quite ready to go inside, yet.

Your response surprises him. You can tell from the way his hands tighten around your hips and how his gaze snaps to your face. “Yeah, maybe!”

“Suit yourself,” Shoko says, ashing her cigarette out the window. She disappears back into the house and you can hear a muffled yell from inside, “Satoru’s on the roof.”

“Again?” sighs an exasperated voice.

Gojo grumbles and rests his chin on your shoulder, opposite from the window. “Such a buzzkill,” he complains.

“Satoru?” Geto pops his head out of the window, brows furrowed. “Get off the roof.”

“Satoru’s not here,” Gojo says, unconvincingly.

“Satoru.”

Gojo groans and releases his hold on your body to dramatically toss his hands up in the air. “Guys—come on. Do you really need to interrupt me like this? It’s my birthday party!” he huffs, pouting when Shoko’s head pops out from behind Geto in the window.

“There are plenty of places for you two to sit inside. I told you to stop climbing on the roof,” Geto frowns.

“I told you he wouldn’t be happy,” Shoko says unhelpfully.

Feeling like you’re stuck in the middle of some childish spat, (and suddenly anxious to be caught in such close proximity with Gojo), you make moves to untangle yourself from around Gojo’s body. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know the roof was off-limits,” you say. “I shouldn’t have followed the Birthday Boy out here.”

Shoko smiles at your comment, ducking back into the kitchen as Geto reaches his hand out for you to take. Geto’s hand is warm and strong in yours, but Gojo’s cold hands support your waist as you make the treacherous step from the roof onto the windowsill.

Getting back into the house is much easier with Geto’s help than climbing out was, and the warmth of the party inside has blood rushing to your cheeks. You didn’t realize how cold you were out there, but now you can feel the chill in your fingertips and the end of your nose.

Geto helps move you out of the way as Gojo practically swings back into the kitchen, his hands grasping the upper window frame as he enters the kitchen feet-first. He lands on the tile with a huff and another pout, his cheeks and nose are tinged pink from the cold.

“You guys are no fun.”

“You’re welcome to utilize any space in my home, except for the roof,” Geto says, and Gojo rolls his eyes. Geto turns to look at you, “Your friend was looking for you. I think he wants to leave.”

“He’s not talking with Utahime anymore?” you ask, frowning, and Geto shakes his head.

That’s disappointing news, and you’ll have to find out what happened when you see Nanami. Not that you expected him to invite her back home—he’s not that kind of guy—but you expected the two of them to talk until well into the night.

“Well, thank you for hosting!” you say, smiling up at Geto nervously. “I had a really good time, and happy birthday!” you turn to speak with Gojo and he’s already smiling down at you.

“I’ll see you again,” he says, and you don’t doubt it.

You peer out of the kitchen and into the party in search of Nanami and quickly find him wandering amongst what’s left of the crowd with your jacket over his arm. You offer the trio one last wave and they wish you goodbye by name before you step out of the kitchen to meet up with Nanami.

“Ah, there you are,” he says, and he seems relieved. “I have your coat. Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah, I’m ready.”

You take your jacket from Nanami’s hold and throw it over your shoulders, excited to talk with him on your walk home. You try not to look back into the kitchen as you walk past, but you can’t help yourself from giving the room one last, fleeting look over your shoulder.

Geto is scolding Gojo with his arms crossed over his chest and a scowl on his face. Gojo’s giving him another one of his patented puppy-dog pouts, begging for forgiveness with bright pink cheeks from the cold—but Geto isn’t falling for it. You watch with a laugh as Gojo groans in defeat, dramatically rolling his head back with his eyes.

When his face falls forward, his gaze snaps to your retreating form. You disappear around the corner with the memory of Gojo’s grinning face. And he's still wearing that stupid party hat.

You and Nanami walk in silence for half a block before you ask, “So, what happened with Utahime?” your excitement is evident in your tone.

“She’s a very nice girl,” he says, stuffing his hands deep into his coat pockets and tucking his chin against his chest. “I really enjoyed our conversation… thank you for pushing me to speak with her.”

You grin wildly, practically skipping alongside Nanami. “Did you ask for her number?”

“No, I didn’t.”

It feels like all of the excitement is sucked out of your lungs in an instant as you deflate. “What? Kento, you—”

“She asked for mine.”

You look over at Nanami, struggling to process his words. The longer you stare at him, the pinker his cheeks turn—and you don’t think it’s from the cold. It takes a long time for your brain to reconnect to your mouth after you realize he’s blushing.

“Are you going to see her again?” you ask.

"Yes, I hope so.”

You bite back a smile, turning to face forward. The two of you walk in silence for a moment longer and you think back to your conversation on the roof with Satoru Gojo—about soulmates. The concept still feels silly, but as you walk alongside Nanami in the December cold, you can feel the electricity buzzing off of him as he thinks of Utahime.

“I’m really happy for you,” you whisper, and Nanami chuckles.

“Don’t get excited about nothing,” he scolds, but there’s no weight behind his words. “And how was your night? I’m sorry I left you alone for so long.”

“No, it’s ok, I had a good time,” you say. “I ended up talking with Gojo for most of the night.”

Nanami groans. “That man is insufferable. I’m sorry you had to deal with him.”

“He wasn’t that bad.”

Your cheeks hurt from smiling.

#jjk smut #gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo satoru x reader #fem!reader #tiff.fic #gojo #jjk #gojo.fic

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iwritenarrativesandstuff · 7 months ago

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I’m just going to throw down my thoughts now real quick. Someone is obviously going to get taken over by Fyodor. This takeover seems to require blood to activate. Here are the potential options, rated lowest to highest by my own personal interest.

Random character we’ve never met - the easy and boring answer. Fyodor will body snatch one of the vampire guards he was communicating with. Fair amount of likelihood since he could easily have made the transfer of blood at any point, though I’m not sure yet if it needs to be an instantaneous thing or if his blood can lie dormant. Either way I think it’s a bit of an ass-pull with no stakes on our cast so I’m hoping this isn’t the case.

A named character outside Meursault - Probably someone he’s had a lot of contact with, so Fukuchi. This depends on the blood having a latency period and is also insanely contrived. I actually hate it more than the random guard.

The Catgirl thief - I’m assuming this is extremely unlikely since the host needs to be alive. But anyways. Women lovers here’s how we lose even worse.

Having said this now, I think it’s fairly obvious it has to be one of the other Meursault four. This is appropriately thematic and tragic, given that all of them place a lot of value on free will and self-determination, which a takeover by Fyodor would rob them of.

Chuuya - He spent a lot of time around Chuuya to be sure but there’s no blood on him. If there’s a latency period though, it is possible. I’m not feeling this one though, to be honest. I don’t see what narrative purpose it serves - Chuuya hasn’t had enough of a role in the manga for this to mean much, other than royally pissing Dazai off (which to be fair is definitely in character for Fyodor). I think it far more likely that Chuuya is going to be a witness for whatever comes next.

Sigma - High likelihood. He did get stabbed and had the memory transfer. I can’t remember whether Fyodor touched him with his wounded hand. It would be brutal for this to happen to him after he’d just broken free from his manipulation. But honestly I don’t know that Sigma getting taken over is all that interesting. For one, they’re going to need his knowledge (though that may be a reason for Fyodor to off him truthfully), and for another, I just don’t think Sigma’s… done enough as a character. I feel it would kind of render his arc in Meursault pointless to end his story here.

Nikolai - The most likely possibility to me. He is holding Fyodor’s severed hand, which he touched to his face. Fyodor’s ability probably kickstarts after his death, and Nikolai was the first to get his blood on him. Sadly, I suspect that if this is the case, this will be the end for Nikolai. If he gets taken over, I can’t see a reason or method to restore him to himself. What a horribly tragic end this would be to our favourite clown, his freedom snatched away for good by the one person he couldn’t help but get attached to.

Dazai - I dismissed this off-hand at first. Of course I did, Dazai is immune to abilities. I also want to be clear that I seriously doubt Asagiri will off his favourite boy like this. But oh man. What if Fyodor’s ability isn’t an ability, much like in the first skk manga team up? What if them both being there is a call-back to Rimbaud who snatched corpses, and Lovecraft who could hurt Dazai? What if Fyodor really has become no longer human - and this is the proof? I was kind of hoping the Meursault arc would end with Dazai (temporarily!) out of the picture, and this would be a way to do it - Atsushi and Akutagawa would have to step up, Chuuya could be more relevant. We could even have more Kyouka if what I’m starting to wonder is true - that Fyodor was involved in the death of her parents. At the same time, Dazai’s special boy plot armour nullification and mysteriousness gives us a plausible reason to bring him back. And all the while maybe they could continue their mind games, with Dazai being an annoying little pest in the back of Fyodor’s mind.

#I’m screaming asagiri please give us bad ending #also I think chuuya would rapidly lose the idgaf war if he saw dazai being taken over like that which is. just a bonus for me.#realistically though my money’s on nikolai. sorry jester man I think you might be doomed :(#bsd #storyrambles #bsd meta #bsd chapter 114 #bsd spoilers #bsd fyodor #bsd chuuya #bsd sigma #bsd nikolai #bsd dazai

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ninapi · 1 year ago

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┊┊┊✧ ⁺ ⁺╚══ Wind Pillar ╝

Premise: A life without the demon corps was just meaningless. Living with a heavy survivor guilt can really eat someone from the inside. That was until a weak light arrived in the most unexpected way possible, breathing life back into his lungs, making him feel needed once more.

Word Count: 5081

Warning: spoilers, the story takes place after the manga’s original timeline.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Shinazugawa Sanemi was not the wind pillar anymore, he wasn’t Genya’s older brother anymore either. There was nobody left in this world that needed him.

After losing his family and dedicating his youth to demon hunting, losing the corps was the final blow for him.

Why was he the only one left?

He should have died if not with his family back in the day he should at least have died defending his brother’s life, Genya should be the one alive right now, not him.

What is the point of being alive when everything you care for was now gone?

He wasn’t particularly good at anything else besides demon hunting, getting a regular job and settling down was definitely not his style. He walked around the neighborhood he used to live in when his family was still alive, the thought of moving back into his old house crossed his mind, maybe do some renovations, hopefully he could drown in his good memories until time would come to give out his last breath.

But the house was now taken by an unknown family. A lot of people lost it all to demons and the destruction they brought with them, it wasn’t uncommon to see abandoned houses here and there, it made sense the house was deemed abandoned, they did leave to never come back.

He had nothing left, not even his old house.

Starting fresh could be encouraging to others, but for Sanemi it was torture.

None of the dojos he visited needed new instructors, majority of them were terrified by his looks alone, if a bunch of guys hitting each other for no apparent reason didn’t want him there what type of job was he supposed to get? It’s not like he was well mannered and literate like Tomioka or had a support network like Tanjiro. What’s the point of being the second strongest pillar if the demons were now all gone.

Sanemi’s lunch was now being given to stray ducks as he had no appetite whatsoever, feeding them was more productive than remaining in such a depressing head space, that’s when an orange rolled in between his feet. He didn’t think much of it, maybe someone dropped it while shopping, but then another orange came rolling next, and then three, making him look back in confusion.

A lone cart full of oranges was coming full speed down a hill with no one pushing it. He had to do something otherwise the villagers could get hurt, he saw small children playing around the area not long ago. Running towards it he was able to stop it before anything major happened, only a few oranges were lost, and the cart was still in good shape. A young woman came running in his direction panting for her life, “Thank you so much, good sir. My cart, it was so heavy, I lost control of it on my way home.”

Not trusting your current strength, he kept on holding the cart, still thinking of the kids running around and how exhausted you looked. “Were you heading down hill?”

“Not really, I was actually supposed to go up the hill behind us, but the cart was heavier than I expected, and it wouldn’t listen to me, so it rolled backwards.” Sanemi stared at said hill with a worrisome expression, that was no hill, that was a full-sized mountain. You were small, looked frail, pale even, little cuts and scars littering your hands. There was no way you could take the cart up that mountain, and it was not like he had anything else to do.

Somehow you reminded him of his mother and how they always needed to help her move heavy stuff around and reach tall places, wanting to help you came out naturally from his heart. “Lead the way.”

“Eh? It’s ok, don’t worry about me. I can take it!” your blushy surprised looking face caused him to scoff, turning the cart around and walking up the first hill. “Like hell you can. Now shut up and tell me where to go.”

“How can I tell you where to go if I shut up?” you were doing your best not to grin at his constipated looking scowl, but instead of teasing him further you just walked beside him in silence. The climb up to your house was steep, but he didn’t even sweat, before you noticed you were now at the entrance of your property, all over way too fast.

“Thank you, good sir. You can leave the cart there I will unload the oranges.” you ran into a small shed, bringing a cloth to wrap them up and bring them all inside. If the cart was heavy, the load was even worse. You couldn’t even lift them from the ground, causing Sanemi to heave a deep sigh. “Don’t you have a husband to help you? Or someone else like a father or brothers? There’s no way you can take all those fucking oranges inside unless you take one at a time and that would take a stupid amount of time.” He grabbed the load with one hand, swinging it over his shoulder like if it weighted nothing, waiting for you to open the door to your abode.

“I do not. My entire family was devoured by a wild beast while I was being treated in a hospice, far from here. Once I regained my strength back, they were all gone. My brother was the one who did all the heavy work around here, my mother and I would pick up the harvest and take care of the animals.” you had a pretty large farm, it wasn’t well tended now but it had several crops still growing and remains of what it used to be an area for livestock. “So, I do most of the work now that I’m alone.”

He knows how uncomfortable sympathetic comments are, so he doesn’t address the information gained, “Why do you even need so many oranges?” a loud thump could be heard as he set them on the kitchen floor, making the wooden floor tremble at the weight. “I was thinking of using them to make some marmalade and sell it at the markets, growing crops is harder than I thought, and I still need to eat, so had to figure something out.”

It was somewhat comforting for Sanemi hearing about the struggles of someone with a similar background. You both couldn’t protect your family, both had to worry about an uncertain future ahead of you. Both had things the other didn’t, but it felt good knowing he wasn’t the only one out there with similar problems.

“Do you like marmalade? I got some bread earlier, come sit down. Let me make you some tea, I still need to thank you for your kindness.” he nodded looking around for a place to sit down, the climb and the lack of food were starting to get to him, it sounded like a good idea.

He never thought making marmalade could be as complex, he had nothing better to do so he just looked at you from where he was sitting. Your hands were so small you needed both of them to stir the mix in the pot, it was amusing. The focus you were putting into making the treat, the tip of your tongue poking out passed your lips in concentration, it was all very eye catching. He’s always admire people that are good at cooking, always wanted to make delicious ohagi for himself, but he wasn’t the best with his hands unless it required brutish strength.

Once the marmalade was ready, you brought it to the small table in front of him, setting down a loaf of bread, a knife and two cups of steaming green tea.

Sanemi thinks back of the last time he was able to relax this way, sad thing really, he hadn’t ever since his mother left this world. Thinking of having afternoon tea without a worry in the world, it’s been over a decade since he had the luxury to do just that.

“Is it good? Do you like it? If you don’t, I can bring out something else.” the expectant look in your eyes made him contemplate what was in his mouth. It was sweet and very refreshing, he’s never had orange marmalade before so he couldn’t really compare it to any other, but he definitely didn’t hate it and wouldn’t mind eating some more. “It’s good, I’m sure it will sell well.” happy with his reply, you tried a bit yourself making mental notes of how to improve it even more.

Teacups were empty, plates clean, it was time for Sanemi to go back to wonder around town, maybe even try to find that one inn he heard about the day before. As he was getting up from his seat heavy rain came pouring down, a loud thunder making you jump. “When it rains this bad around here it takes a while for it to go away; would you like to stay for dinner? Um…sir?”

“Shinazugawa. Shinazugawa Sanemi.”

“Would you like to stay for dinner, Shinazugawa-san? I’m (Y/N) by the way.” he was starting to worry for your well being, you were deliberately letting an unknown man into your house and didn’t even know his name, that was not safe, even without demons around. “Tch, not like I have a choice.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The rain was just not stopping, dinner was done for, and it was pitch black outside, the mountain’s treacherous paths were not places to wonder around in a stormy night like this one, “Shinazugawa-san, how about you stay for the night? You can stay in my brother’s room; I can even lend you some of his clothing so you can take a bath.”

A bath, it’s been days since he took one of those, an alluring offer indeed, but somehow the way you were taking the situation didn’t sit right in his stomach, rage was now bubbling inside his chest at your disregard for your own safety.

“Are you dumb or what? Do you not see me as a man? Hell, you do know you shouldn’t bring men you don’t know into your house, right? Specially not at night.” his angry outburst made you giggle, closing the front door shut to make a statement. “You sound like my brother, he used to say things like that to my mother. I do know you though, you’re the very kind young man that helped a woman in need without asking anything in return, I even know your name now.”

“So what? Is not like I couldn’t just do something to you now that it’s dark, it’s just the two of us here in the mountain, no one would hear if something was to happen, nobody would come even if you screamed for help like a damn pig. Don’t do stupid things like that even if you think you know someone, you don’t know a fucking thing about me.” he was shouting at this point, his fists shacking. He was really a kind man, all he wanted was for you to understand how evil the world out there could be, to others it could be overwhelming to have a figure like him shouting so angrily at them but you could see he was just worried.

“I won’t do it again, Shinazugawa-san, I promise. Now please come with me, I will show you where the bath is.” your attitude and gentle smile were infuriating. All he could think of was how his sweet mother got beaten down by his own father and the men he would bring home sometimes for drinks. How she could barely defend her children and would always ended up hurt, how she had no chance whatsoever to fight stronger men. You wouldn’t be able to defend yourself either, you needed some sense put in that head of yours before it was too late.

He pinned you against the bathroom wall, one of his muscular thighs going in between your legs, rendering you useless against his grip, he was glaring down at you in a strangely attractive way triggering many things within you, except fear, “See how easy it is for me if I wanted to hurt your ass? Take me seriously dammit, take every man fucking seriously, you can’t trust someone you don’t know so easily, it will get you killed.” he let go off your wrists roughly, wanting you to learn your lesson, but one of your hands reached for his, “You have a blister. Let me bring a bandage so we can clean it, it was probably the cart, it tends to do that.”

“No, stop. Why are you acting this way? Are you out of your mind? I could have assaulted you just now, open your eyes woman!”

“But you didn’t. You had more than one chance to do as you pleased with me, but you didn’t. Instead, you ate my food, laughed at my jokes, helped me when no one else did. You are a kind man Shinazugawa-san, wether you want to accept it or not. I’m not stupid, I wouldn’t invite someone over to my house if it could do me some harm.”

Sanemi was speechless. You didn’t consider him dangerous? He couldn’t even get a decent job because everyone would look at him like the killer he is. If there was someone dangerous out there it was him, he could kill you without even trying, in seconds, painfully, he was the second strongest in a chain of the strongest people humanity had to offer. There was something off with your view of the world.

“Now, stay still, I’m going to clean it.” his hand has never been held that way before, of course he’s had his wounds tended to, he’s always needing some patching up after his many battles, but your touch was different, it was so gentle, he could feel how you were really worried about him, about his tiny blister hurting with your touch, like if he was as frail as you were. “You gotta make sure the wound is properly cleaned before you apply bandages, look at yourself, all those scars…I bet they were all so painful…you need proper care if you don’t want them to get infected or leave traces. You tell me to take care of myself but wouldn’t look in a mirror first.”

Nobody talks to him like that, specially not females. The girls of the butterfly state were always scared of him and just looking their way would make them run away. The only active women in his life were his mother and sisters, he never had time to mess around with girls or to get his wounds properly taken care of, there were demons out there that needed to be killed and that’s all that mattered to him back then.

“Are you seriously not afraid of me?”

You looked up into his eyes, staring at him in disbelief, his tone was a lot tamer now you could hear the honest confusion lacing his words, “Why would I? You look tough, that’s true. But I am nobody to judge others. My brother also had many scars from taking care of the farm, even several of his toes were missing from when he stepped on a saw by accident, you’re not the only one around with a couple of fingers missing in this violent era. People used to say he was scary, all big and full of scars, skin tanned by the long hours of working in the fields, but he was a gentle man, always took great care of me and my mother. You strike me as the same type, you don’t feel like someone who would hurt the weak, you feel more like someone that protects them.”

Sanemi was left speechless once more as you left for him to enjoy his bath, you made sure the water was warm enough from the outside, blowing on the fire constantly until you heard him come out. He’s never been able to relax this much, he knew demons weren’t a threat anymore but that didn’t only mean he was unemployed, he didn’t think of what that meant fully until now. No demons meant less danger, meant being able to take his time to live life, to breathe, to relax. It was a strange feeling, not having to worry about someone bursting the door open and slaughtering the woman outside, but it was a good kind of strange.

He felt awfully relaxed that night and after years of nightmares, he was finally able to sleep peacefully.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It’s been three days and the rain just wouldn’t stop. Sanemi had helped you covering the crops so they wouldn’t die out in the rain but there was no sign of it stopping any time soon. It was typhoon season, and it was heavily hitting you this year.

Not only did he help with the crops, but the roof also had holes in it which you two didn’t notice until you woke up to a flooded floor, so he repaired it. Your front door wasn’t safe enough for his liking, so he used his extra time to take care of that as well. He didn’t even notice time was moving this fast and days had gone by. It wasn’t as bad having something to do, keep your mind busy and your body active, regular people life wasn’t as boring and dreadful as he originally thought it was.

There was so much to do around the house that he wondered how you’ve managed to live up here in the mountain by yourself all this time. He got to learn you’ve been living here all alone for a couple of years and you have been doing all you can to not let the farm fall, your determination was admirable and made him question his own future.

“Shinazugawa-san, I enjoy thoroughly having you here, but isn’t your family going to worry? It’s kind of been a while now.” the back of his neck was strangely hot, your comment taking him off guard. He enjoyed the simplicity of the last few days comparing it to the rest of his life, he’s never been able to just sit down and listen to the rain fall on the roof sipping on a hot cup of tea, but he didn’t know you were enjoying it just as much.

“I don’t have a family. They also got killed by a wild beast long time ago, the only brother I had left passed this year, so no, nobody is going to worry about me not returning home, I don’t even have a home.” the stoic look on his face while he was retailing his life tragedy worried you, it’s something he should feel sad for, but he didn’t look sad, he looked angry, and you could understand that feeling, your family was taken away from you in the very same way.

“I bet your brother looked like you.” he wasn’t expecting that, usually people get uncomfortable with the thought of having to empathize with something they can’t understand and start apologizing, but you did go through the same, you stirred the subject around like he usually does when facing the same situation and he was grateful. “Hm, he had less scars than me, was taller, dark hair. But he did kind of look like me.”

“I bet he was kind too.”

“He was.” you were now pouring more tea in his cup, admiring the heavy rainfall through your window. “My brother didn’t look like me at all, he was way kinder, very smart, had the prettiest face I’ve ever seen with beautiful large eyes.” this made Sanemi look at your face, it was difficult to imagine a big muscly guy that looked anything close to the delicate tiny woman in front of him, but then again, he used to see his mother in Genya all the time. “Sounds a lot like you.” blood was flowing at full speed to your cheeks, decorating your lovely face with tinges of reds.

“Sometimes I wish I was the one the beast ate instead of my brother, the farm needs him, he was so good with animals and with the people at the market too, everyone loved him, he was the best of the two of us, it’s a shame really.”

Sanemi was lost in your face, the way your eyes watered at the memory of your brother, the way a soft defeated smile crept on your face signalizing guilt, he felt understood in a very deep level, strangely. “Same. I did all I could to protect my brother, I wanted him to live a normal life, get a wife, have some kids. But he ended up following me around and dying before me anyways. All my efforts were completely useless. I should have died, not him.” his fists were now shaking against the coffee table, veins popping all around his body as a rush of anger and despair rushed through him at the thought of his dying baby brother.

“I’m sure he just wanted to be with his beloved older brother. I used to follow mine around as well, wanted him to teach me how to get milk from the cow and got myself a kick to the face, turns out they get quite stressed if you’re too excited.” the absurdity of it all felt like getting some sort of medication for the illness that consumed his heart, like a serum being injected into his blood stream, cooling his anger down.

“Dumbass.” the sound of your laughter brought new air into the house, a house that is rather quiet all the time was now loud, and it smelled like a proper home.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

After two stormy days more, the sun was finally out. There was a lot of work to do in the fields to fix the damage caused by the storm. Sanemi started working on it as soon as he woke up without even asking you, and it took you both all day, something you thought would take an hour ended up extending throughout the entire day.

He was better at this than he thought he would, you even ended up planting some pumpkin seeds you got from the market a while back upon his suggestion of adding different types off crops. The front of the farm looked like a proper one afterwards bringing a powerful sense of completion to the both of you. It was hard work, but teamwork does really make a difference. And you two made a good team.

The sun was setting, all there was left to do was water the crops and prepare dinner, fresh rice already cooking in a pot inside the house. “Maybe you can grow some berries and do your marmalade using them instead of having to buy oranges, growing orange trees seems like a pain in the ass and there are wild berries in the forest, should be easy to find some and bring them here.” you were giving it serious thought, you’ve never thought about changing the ingredients, you were just replicating the treat your mother used to do for you and your brother when you were little. Being so lost in your head doing ingredient calculations and noting ideas for the recipe, you didn’t see the frog that was comfortably resting on your foot. Once you did though, panic filled your insides, you hated frogs and would always stay as far away as possible from them.

“Shinazugawa-san…there’s…there’s a-“ you looked like you were about to faint so he walked closer to you, spotting the aggressor, “(Y/N) is just a stupid frog, move your foot, it’ll go away on its own.” you shook your head closing your eyes shut, you didn’t want to hurt the poor animal out of your own silly phobia.

Sanemi crouched down to your feet, grabbing the little troublemaker and took it over to the edge of the river near your property. When he came back you were still frozen in place, sweating. “It’s gone now.” You were ridiculous, it was just a tiny frog, you couldn’t even defend yourself against a frog, how were you going to defend yourself against the odds of life. You let out a long-held breath, taking his hands in yours as a token of appreciation, quickly forgetting the hose was in your hand and getting his face completely wet.

“(Y/N)….you little piece of shit….” his face was red, a deep snarl on his face. You threw the hose to the ground and ran for your life, laughing in the process. “I’m so sorry!! Kyaaaaa, how are you this fast!” one step of his was five of yours, he caught up to you in no time and the look on his face was a sight to behold.

He wasn’t angry, his wet hair was sticking onto his face, and he was laughing. He looked way younger this way and it made you feel relived to see he was having as much fun as you did these days. Your hand reached his face, caressing the droplets of water away, a loving smile gracing your lips. He wasn’t sure when things started heading in this direction but he’s never felt that way before and he didn’t hate it.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

There weren’t more excuses for Sanemi to linger around, the rain was gone, the farm cleaned up from the storm, even the marmalade was ready to be sold. He offered to help you with the cart since it was even heavier now that the load had increased.

The idea was for him to take you downtown and then leave and move on with his life, find a job and a place to stay.

But you didn’t even know how to build the display table in the market and then unloading the cart is faster between two people. Then an old lady asked him for three jars of marmalade and by mid afternoon he was still by your side selling your goods.

“Sir, could I convince you and your wife to trade two of your jars for one of my chickens? I don’t have any money left but I would really like to take some home for my kids.” His what- the cloth he was using to clean the table ended up on the floor at her statement, taking him off-guard, you also didn’t say anything to deny it. “What do you think, dear husband? I think it would be a good idea, we could look around and see if we can find her a mate and get eggs from them.” so you were seriously not just going to ignore it but also go along with it-

“Um, yeah. There’s some spare wood in the shed, I could use that to build them a house.” the lady was now handing him the cage with said chicken, waiting anxiously for the last two jars of goodness to be her own.

“You make such a lovely couple; I wish my husband was as understanding and loving as yours. Thank you, my children and I will be forever in your debt, my youngest is celebrating her birthday today, I wanted to bring something special home.” it somehow warmed both of your hearts, you both think of days when you had a large family and how much fun you had eating delicious treats with your siblings, children laughter filling out every corner. “Thank you for your kind words, we’ll take good care of your chicken. I hope you and the children have a lovely evening!” and just like that the marmalade was officially sold out.

“So where do you think we can find Mia’s future husband?” he wasn’t sure how or when you and him became a ‘we’ but he wasn’t mad at how it sounded like and the intentions behind it. “Did you just name the fucking chicken?” he was used to your silly antics by now but it was still very much amusing to him, your quiet giggles confirming he was right. “I saw someone selling some chickens by the entrance, let’s go see if they have one after cleaning up.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Time Skip~

It’s been ten years since Sanemi started coming to this market every morning. He still misses the fun days of demon hunting, but mostly he still misses his brother. Life wasn’t as good to Genya as it was to him, and he still felt guilty from living the life he wanted his brother to have.

Having a permanent stall in the market came with a lot of responsibilities and a lot of hard work, but his strength was put to good use by the smartest person he’s ever met.

“How much for the corn?” Sanemi, who was now cleaning the small worktable looked up to tend his first customer of the day. “If you take two you get one fr- Tomioka???” Giyuu was smirking at him from the other side of the table, a knowing look in his eyes. “That apron looks good on you, Shinazugawa.” Leaving the stall behind, he walked over to his old pillar mate, it’s been years since the last time they saw each other.

“Heard your stupid ass went to live with his old master like a sissy lost baby, near Tanjiro and the gang of brats.”

Some things never change.

“Yeah, it’s been a while, we didn’t even know you were still alive.” the conversation got cut short by a child clinging onto Sanemi’s leg, getting Giyuu’s attention. “Father, mother needs your help unloading the milk crates.”

Crouching down to his size, Giyuu stares into the child's eyes, lost in the memories of his lost friends, painful days of loss came right into his heart, “You look just like your uncle.” patting the child on the head, he smiled, the ghosts of his lost comrades shining behind the toddler. “I know, I was named Genma after uncle, but my hair is like this because of mother, the rest have father’s hair.” As if on cue you came out of the back with a baby tied to your back, an older looking boy than the one before him holding a sleeping girl in his arms. “Nemi, the milk!”

“I see you’ve been busy.” Sanemi’s face was red as a beet, making him grumble insults quietly for his child not to hear.

“I’ll do it in a second, come here, I want you to meet an old friend of mine.” this was the first time any of them had addressed the love-hate relationship they had in the past as friendship, but now being older they both agree that’s what it was. “Tomioka, this is my wife (Y/N)”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you…and your four children…” the smirk on his face was so sly nobody would notice it but Sanemi, it made him want to punch his guts like he would do back in the day when they were younger.

“Is that your wife over there, Tomioka-san? I see you also have a little one, take some of our milk, our kids love it!” The child looked just like him, it was an easy guess. You were doing your best to move around with a child on your back and a swell on your stomach, a promise of another youngster arriving soon. The woman behind Giyuu came holding his son and after a long chat and bunch of laughter they promised to go to your place for dinner soon.

Ten years ago Sanemi thought he had lost it all.

And he did.

But he made a silent promise to Genya after meeting you, he would live as long as he could, never waste the opportunity to live his brother gave him, never let his sacrifice be in vain, he would live for the both of them, he would bring life to this world and protect it the way he couldn’t protect his siblings, he would protect his family until his last breath and once that moment comes and he gets to see him again, he will have many stories to share as they embrace eternity together, as family.

▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄

Tagged babes: @doumadono

Masterlist Bonus Chapter

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budbuddnbuddy · 10 months ago

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Little obey me headcanons (pt2)

(Pt3)

A/n: Some more of headcaons and world building for y’all to enjoy, NSFW is included. Also some full fics are in the works rn so enjoy.

I can’t remember who exactly said it but there was this headcaon that Lucifer was always a bit horny for you and I fully agree with that. HOWEVER, he only really gives bedroom eyes when either: A. He’s been working at his desk for fucking 20 hours sometimes even days. or B. You haven’t been in the Devildom in over 3 months. His eyes are already super pretty, but he’ll flutter his long eyelashes at you, get super close, touch up all over your arm and shit. That kinda stuff.

Amsodeus definitely has piercings, specifically on his nipples, bellybutton, and tongue. Mammon would get nipple piercings if he wasn’t such a pussy.

I feel like this is already canon due to the manga but Mammon has a great ass, like a really great ass-

One time you and Lucifer got into an argument and you tried to be the bigger person by leaving the room and trying to cool off but he mistook it as an act of defeat and…

“MC, you need to get more sleep. I always keep on telling you this why don’t you ever listen to me?”

“I literally only pulled 2 all nighters! You’ve been locked up in your room for the past 2 weeks! Do you understand how hypocritical you sound right now?”

“That’s different, I’m a demon. You’re just a human MC.”

“Y’know what? Whatever.”

“That’s what I thoug-“

And then just picture MC whipping around and giving Lucifer the one of the hardest slaps they can muster. He wasn’t even mad about just in shock.

Personally, I think Solomon has the prettiest blush out of everyone. Maybe it’s because his skin is so pale and his blush is so pink and he gets so shy and bashful and UGH HES SO PRETTY 😭

Simeon is a milf, no I will not explain.

Part of me just cannot accept that Luke is canonically over 4’11, I think he’s just a tad bit shorter then that, maybe 4’9 and a half.

I feel like Barbatos has a negative cantal tilt, or just has sleepily drowsy like eyes.

RAD is actually 6 stories tall, there are 3 gyms , 2 courtyards one on the roof (the one we see the most) and then the one on the first floor, and over 700 classrooms. Lucifer, Diavolo, and Barbatos. Are the only ones out of everyone who don’t attend classes but rather manage everything that happens within RAD and out.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me x reader #obey me diavolo #obey me!#mammon #obey me beelzebub #obey me x mc #obey me asmodeus #obey me barbatos #obey me solomon #obey me mc #obey me mammon

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shdo-xplosion · 1 year ago

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HEAT • e. todoroki •°. *࿐

warnings: stepcest, periods, period sex, fingering, infidelity (not really dwelled upon), use of “daddy”, enji is a human heating pad *1.3k words

notes: its about to be that time of the month *sob sob* and i am in a bad brain mood that makes me wanna do nothing except cuddle with my heating pad so here we are! manga cap colored n edited by moi (*꒦ິ³꒦ີ)

Enji hates seeing you like this, his little angel, overtaken by fatigue and pain. You’ve been lounging on the couch for most of the day, moving from one position to another in hopes of finding temporary relief. Enji had been eyeing the calendar in preparation, picking a few things up from the nearby store so that you wouldn’t have to worry your pretty head.

But soft silicon discs and organic chocolate can only do so much. You keep swapping out your heating pad for the full heated blanket, keep curling up only to get up and walk around, and Enji can only take so much whining. It’s not that he’s irritated—never with you—he just hates seeing you in pain.

“Come here, baby,” he sighs, taking a seat on the far end of the couch and patting one of his humongous thighs.

You look at him with a hesitant sort of hope, “are you sure, daddy?” waiting for him to nod before scrambling over and slotting yourself on his lap.

You sit facing him, chest to chest, your head resting on his burly shoulder as Enji allows his hands to heat up. He slips them under your threadbare shirt, placing them on the small of your back just over your kidneys. Your relieved sigh comes out as more of a moan, your body melting against his.

Enji has gotten better about keeping his hands off of you, his precious step-daughter. What started as a curiosity turned into an accident that formed a habit. A very bad habit. It isn’t illegal. You’re in your twenties for Christ’s sake. But, it isn’t right. Enji shouldn’t be touching you like this. But, you want him to, especially on days like this.

“I know you’re the number one hero n’ all,” you hum, nuzzling against his throat, “and your job is to fight villains, but… I think your true calling is period relief.”

Enji laughs deeply, slowly working his thumbs into your back. “I don’t do this for just anyone, you know.”

“I know, I know.” You place a feather light kiss to his neck, and Enji damns himself when he feels his cock twitch under you. “Just saying. If hero work doesn’t pan out…”

He doesn’t respond, trying to stay in his right mind as you shift over him. You get comfortable where you lean against him, legs parted on either side of him, and for a little while Enji just sits and watches the asinine drama you have playing on the TV, rubbing small circles into your muscles.

It isn’t like he’s had these feelings since you were young. You and your mother came into his life when you were nearly 18 already, and his mind didn’t start betraying him until a few years after that. Enji isn’t sure if it’s the slew of worthless boys you keep bringing around to meet him, the constant threats on your life, or his own struggle with mortality, but something has Enji going a little crazy in recent months. Something is giving him an insatiable need to protect and take care of you. To make you his.

He doesn’t look at you the same way he looks at his other children, nor does he see you the same way he saw Rei or how he sees your mother. You're something else entirely. Quirkless but fearless, a force to be reckoned with yet so easy to be brought to your knees when it’s your dear daddy asking.

It was just a one time thing when you came home crying after a break up and Enji helped you forget about that stupid boy. Just a special occasion when you got all dressed up for the gala and Enji took you in your bedroom after everyone else had gone ahead. And, all the nights he saunters into your room while you’re knuckle deep in your pussy, trying so hard to get yourself off—that’s just so you can both get some rest. He doesn’t want you like that because it would be wrong. No way for the Number One hero to behave or think. They’re just little lapses in judgment here and there.

“Daddy?”

Enji grunts in response, toes curling at the sound of your voice cooing such a suggestively innocent title.

“Still hurts,” you whisper.

He warms his hands against your back a bit more, palms probably an uncomfortable temperature to anyone who isn’t seeking heat therapy.

“Any better?”

You shake your head, rubbing your face back and forth into his neck. “Inside. It’s…” He can hear your teeth slide against one another as you clench your jaw tightly. “Just hurts.”

He feels the way you spread your legs further, bearing down on him. It isn’t subtle. You may not be saying it with your mouth, but you’re all but rubbing your covered pussy over his hardening cock, a silent plea.

“You think that’ll help?” Enji questions, well aware of his baritone voice and the effect it has on you.

You shiver in his lap and nod. “S’long as you’re gentle.”

Tilting his head to the side, he guides your chin on his shoulder until you’re eye to eye with one another. “Aren’t I always?” Enji hasn’t always been known to be a soft man. In fact, his reputation has always been about being cruel, harsh, with no room for mercy. Things change over time, though, and even if they hadn’t, you would be the exception.

He helps you off of him so that you can shimmy out of your cloth shorts and panties. You tell him these are special made for periods, to absorb blood, “but if you want me to put a disc in really quick…”

Enji hushes you, fighting not to roll his eyes. “I’m not scared of a little blood, honey.”

To prove his point, he guides you back to his lap, slipping two thick fingers between your folds. Enji doesn’t push them further, just gathers the warm fluid coating your lips, teasing your hole with it. You grip his shoulders, face scrunched up.

“I’m going to give you one now, hm?” he warns, slowly delving his middle finger into the heat of your cunt. You take him easily, aided by your arousal and blood. As promised, Enji is slow and careful as he stretches you, watching for your expression to relax before adding his second finger.

“Alright, turn around, sweet girl,” he softly commands, waiting for you to face outward before guiding your hips down to meet his. Your body tenses when his fat cockhead slips into you, and Enji holds still so that you can adjust to his size. He lets you set the pace from there, delighting in the way that you slowly ease yourself down on his cock. Little by little, inch by inch, your walls spasming around his length until you settle right in his lap.

You let out a shaky breath, legs trembling, but it all goes away when Enji ushers you to his chest, letting you lean back as he places his hot hands over the lower part of your tummy. The angle has his cock pressed against your front wall, spongy tissue swelling around him, and just like that you find your relief.

“Feels so much better,” you say. Your voice isn’t slurred or all pleasure-rich despite Enji being able to feel your body’s reaction to him. No, you are content, at peace after a full day of discomfort.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm,” you nod and giggle, “need to remember this for next time. Who needs Midol when I can just have this cock?”

Enji groans, shifting his hips to push his tip straight against your cervix.

“You can have it whenever you need, angel,” he mutters, brushing his lips over your shoulder and expertly kneading the tender skin of your hips. “Just say the word and daddy will come to your rescue.”

#enji todoroki x reader #endeavor x reader #endeavor smut #enji todoroki smut #bnha x reader #tw periods #tw stepcest #tw pseudocest

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an-idyllic-novelist · 18 days ago

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I’m Not Your Fiancée, Ranma [a ranma saotome with fem!reader mini series] part one

warnings: anime/manga spoilers, slight canon divergence, very mild Akane bashing.

Hey guys, welcome to a brand new mini series! I do apologize for not being active on here as I am on my other blog, @forbidden-sunlight but I do hope to change that when things in my corner of the world slow down. Special thanks to my co-author @deathmetalunicorn1 and @syneyam for beta-reading the earlier stages of this draft!

So with that being said, sit back, relax, and watch for that bucket of cold water! :3

You would like to think that your life is peaceful as it can get in a family of martial artists. Your older sisters Kasumi and Nabiki might have taken basic self-defense lessons at your father’s insistence, but they had no interest in taking over the Tendo Dojo when he passed. Akane could take over the mantle. She has the strength, the tenacity, and the temperament to discipline a smart-mouthed pupil if she doesn’t let their words get under her skin. She has expressed her hatred for men before, and it probably won’t ever subside. Not even getting engaged to a boy would help.

But your father and Mr. Saotome truly believe that having your older twin sister and Ranma, Mr. Saotome’s son, would work out their differences in this marriage arrangement and carry on the promise they made to each other years ago: to carry on the legacy of the School of Anything-Goes-Martial-Arts.

It’s been over a year since the Saotomes arrived at the Tendo household with their magical curses that can only be reversed by hot water and there has been no significant progress in Akane and Ranma’s relationship.

You don’t think it helped that Ranma had somehow ended up with three extra fiancées, too; Shampoo, the Chinese Amazon warrior who was defeated by Ranma in combat, and under the laws of her tribe she must take Ranma as her husband. Then there was Ukyo, his childhood friend whom he originally thought was a boy and not a girl whom Genma also promised a marriage arrangement to fulfill a debt to Ukyo’s father. Last but not least, is Kodachi Kuno. You’re not sure if this engagement would even count. She was more like a troublesome suitor who would cheat and use poison to get what she wanted.

Akane had a tendency to misunderstand situations or act on impulse first without giving Ranma a chance to explain himself. Sometimes there were situations where it was Ranma’s fault and he was too stubborn to admit it until it was too late. Either way, this was not a healthy relationship, and you feared it would only get worse as time went on.

You wanted your sister to be happy, and Ranma too. But is it even right to keep two people in a relationship when they were against this engagement in the first place and neither your father nor Mr. Saotome refused to listen to them?

Although you were not too keen on leaving home to go to Kyoto with your after-school club to take part in a competition, Kasumi assured you with a sweet smile that everything will be fine. She knows how hard you’ve been working to get everything ready for this event, so please do not worry about her or everyone else.

Do your best, have fun, and call from the hotel as soon as you check in so that your father wouldn’t get too worried.

So you did. You traveled to Kyoto, won the competition, and came back home early on the following Sunday morning. When you found the entire household, including an irate Akane wiggling in the arms of your father and Mr. Saotome in his panda form, something was up.

“What’s going on?” You asked immediately, throwing your overnight bag on the ground. “Mr. Saotome, Father!”

“I’m not doing it!” Akane bellowed. “I couldn’t care less what happens to that pervert! You are not gonna make me take him back! The engagement is off! Do you hear me? Off! I never wanted this in the first place!”

“OI!”

“Nothing to worry about, little sis,” Nabiki said with a shrug. “Supposedly Shampoo mixed a love potion in some special deluxe ramen, and Ranma ate it without realizing it. When Daddy and Mr. Saotome discovered what had transpired, they hauled him back here and put a blindfold on him. They think that if he sees Akane as soon as the blindfold comes off, the engagement won’t be called off and everything goes back to normal. I had heard about your performance in Kyoto. Well done.”

“Much appreciated Nabiki.” You turned towards your father and his cursed friend, “Dad, Mr. Satome, put Akane down.”

“Sweetie, we need to do this! For the sake of the school!” Your father said with tears trickling down his face. The panda beside him guffawed in agreement.

“So you’re telling me that the Tendo/Saotome union is more important than my older sister’s happiness?” You said, looking at him in disbelief. When your father did not answer and just stared at you. “Oh, you have got to be joking.”

“T-That’s not true at all, honey! I just -”

“For the last time, Daddy, I am not gonna marry Ranma!” Akane shouted. Twisting her body around, she wormed her way out of Mr. Saotome’s grasp and stomped off, grumbling about how it wasn’t fair to be treated like this and how she wants nothing to do with jerks for the rest of her life. While your father tearfully cried out for your sister to come back, you pushed the double doors leading to the dojo open with a loud slam.

You’ve had enough of this nonsense. You’ve had enough of the bickering and chaos and the outright absurdity of treating Ranma like a prize to be coveted than a human being who can’t possibly sit for long periods of time without eating or using the bathroom. So like the fool you were, tired and frustrated, you stormed inside the spacious area, seeing a single person in the seiza position with a dark blue cloth wrapped over his eyes.

Ranma.

Your heart twisted in sympathy and anger as you slid your shoes off by the dojo’s entrance, walking inside barefooted. You kneeled down in front of Ranma and folded your arms around his head, your fingers carefully undoing the knot.

“Who’s there?!” He exclaimed. “Pops, if this is you, I oughta clobber you -”

“Easy there, Ranma.” You said. “It’s me. [First Name]. Hold on a sec, let me get this off of you, okay? This love potion or whatever Shampoo gave you, must have worn off by now.” In a few moments, the blindfold was off and a pair of piercing blue irises stared up into yours. For a moment, you could have sworn there was a shimmer glossing over those eyes before it disappeared. You swallowed. Maybe removing the blindfold was not a good idea.

Then suddenly, Ranma looked away from you, frowning. “Hmph.”

You blinked. Huh? “If you’re that mad at Dad and Mr. Saotome for this whole situation -”

“Who said I was mad?” Ranma snapped.

“Because you’re avoiding eye contact and frowning. Those are pretty obvious signs of being mad at someone.” You pointed out.

“What makes you think I’m mad at them?”

“Who else would you be mad at?” You countered.

“Who do ya think?”

“Enlighten me then, because I am not a mind reader.”

Ranma groaned. “It’s you, you dummy!” He turned to you, his face bright red. “I’m mad at you! Before you left for Kyoto, you promised to call when you got there! But did I hear anything? Nope. Nada, zip. I almost went over there myself to make sure ya didn’t miss the train! Just because we’re engaged doesn’t mean ya can be vague about what you’re doing or where you’re goin’! Think about your dad, Nabiki, Kasumi, Akane! How do ya think they’d react if something happened to ya and then never heard from ya again?!”

You stared at the pigtailed martial artist, wide-eyed at his outburst and the context of his words. Two things stuck out like a sore thumb to you immediately: While Ranma is stubborn and egotist, deep down he is a caring person, especially towards Akane whenever she is in a pinch. But he has never acted like this towards you. And he said we’re engaged. As in, he thinks you are his fiancee, and not Akane. Similar to how your sister lost her memories of Ranma with the Xi Fa Xiang Gao technique, but different. Instead of using a combination of an herbal shampoo and application of pressure points on the skull to manipulate memories, Ranma ingested the potion. But if everyone said that the Chinese Amazon had administered one that makes him fall in love with whoever he sees first…

Methinks Shampoo had concocted the wrong potion. You thought. Still…

“Ranma,” You began. “I don’t know if you were here, but I called the house on the night I got to the hotel. I talked to Kasumi, and she said she was happy to hear my voice and to have a good time before I hung up.” You tilted your head to the side. “Did she not say anything?” You watched his eyes widen, his body flinch, and then looked away from you again.

“Yeah, well, I’m still mad at you!” Ranma harrumphed.

“Then you will humor this dishonorable one by answering a random question?” You lightly teased, hoping to slice some of this awkward tension between you and him. It worked, sort of, if his silence was his way of saying, fine you can, but that doesn’t mean I am gonna forgive you unless you apologize. You sighed, scratching the back of your head. “Ranma, how did we meet?”

“What kinda question is that?”

“Ranma.”

He huffed, crossing his arms. “Fine. Me and Pops came to Nermia about two weeks after we went to Jusenkyo an’ got cursed. He was insistent about meetin’ Mr. Tendo and completing the agreement they made years ago, the one where I have to marry one of his daughters. I didn’t wanna do it, and that stubborn old man knocked me out before I could run like hell back to China. We arrived at yer house in our cursed forms, so everyone thought we were really a girl and a panda, includin’ you. One thing led to another. Then Pops explained what happened to us, and Mr. Tendo said our situation wasn’t too terrible. He told me to pick one of you to be his fiancee, and Kasumi and Nabiki volunteered your meat-headed sister ‘cause they thought me bein’ half girl wasn’t terrible just ‘cause she hates men. She wanted nothin’ to do with me, calling me a pervert and then you stepped up and said you’ll be my fiancée.” He shrugged. “Not that I wanted to settle down with an uncute girl who isn’t even good at martial arts to begin with.”

“I’m glad to know that you have such a high opinion of me.” You said, smiling at him, eyes closed. You seemed to take the insult in stride, but anyone who has known you long enough would see the smile on your face was anything but expressing amusement. You and Akane might be twins, but the differences between the two couldn’t have been greater. Your older sibling by three minutes could hold her on in a fight and master a technique in the blink of an eye. It took you months to basic katas, even if you practiced every day. You wouldn’t lie and say that there weren’t days when you envied Akane. She was smart, kind, super strong, and reliable. There isn’t a guy in the entire world who wouldn’t want to take her out on a date.

But if it wasn’t for her dedication to the Art and her own encouragement as she walked you through the techniques in the dojo, you probably wouldn’t have understood that it was okay to not be good at martial arts and excel in other things.

You were a valued member in your club. You were the only other person in the Tendo household who could use the kitchen without Kasumi’s supervision and cooked dinner once a week to give your eldest sister a break. You got good grades in school and didn’t get into fights. You and Akane might be twins, but there were differences that made each of you stand out, both good and bad.

Ranma seemed to have caught onto the menacing aura behind your smile, though, because the timber in his voice heightened to almost a squeak. “B-But I was wrong! It’s not you’re uncute ‘cause you can be pretty from cute, I mean!”

You didn’t think you would see Ranma in such a flustered state. Then again, you always see him arguing with Akane, sparring with his father, or getting into awkward situations with Shampoo or Ukyo.

Ranma pouted. “You might not know martial arts, but you’re good at other things. Ya make time to help me with homework or study for tests in a way that’s easy for me to understand. You help in the kitchen and try to keep Akane from causing damage ‘cause you know how important that space is to Kasumi. And ya care about others, even if I’m being a pain in the rear when I argue with that obstinate, bratty-ass tomboy of a sister you have. So,” He swallowed. “It still kinda sucks getting betrothed without my asking, no question about that. But… I’m glad that I’m engaged to someone that I-I might actually l-like.”

You felt your left eyelid twitch in anger as you listened to Ranma insulting your sister again before his words sunk into your mind. Someone that I might actually like. Might actually like. Ranma…actually likes you? Or is it the magic of the memory alteration potion that’s making him act like this? Oh, no. What are you supposed to do now?

Embarrassment scalded your cheeks, crawling up the back of your neck and making your eyes burn. You tried to hide yourself behind your hands but a certain pigtailed boy wouldn’t let you.

He gently grabbed your wrists and pulled them apart, allowing him to see your flustered expression. He smugly grinned. “Aw, c’mon. There’s no reason to hide like this after you made fun of me. ‘Sides, it’s rare to see such a cute look on your face.”

You pouted lightly at him, seeing there was no malice behind his teasing, but did not shake your wrists out of Ranma’s grasp. “Uh, Ranma,” You stammered. “Have I…ever acted like this before? W-When you flirt like this with me, I mean.”

He blinked at your question, brow furrowing. “Huh? Well, yeah. There was that one time at the skating rink. Wait, that was Akane. She wasn’t too happy with me challenging that creep Mikado when he tried to make a move on you - uh, maybe? Hold the phone. It was Akane he was tryin’ to kiss. Then, was it at the park? No. All she did was yell and throw things and accuse me of being jealous of Ryoga. Oh, what about - no, that was Akane too? Seriously, I know your sister is overprotective of you, but why is it I can think of is her?”

He continued to mutter under his breath, trying to piece together the fragmented memories. All you could do was watch silently before he suddenly looked up at you, his eyes wide in disbelief. “You gotta be kidding me. All of this time, I’ve been engaged to that macho chick?!”

“Welcome back, Ranma.” You said, pulling away from him. “Now that you’ve got your memory back, it might be a good idea to let Akane know that you’re okay -” You yelped when the boy suddenly slammed his fists onto the ground, his form slightly hunched over and trembling like a leaf. “R-Ranma?!”

“She couldn't care less about me, [First Name]! If it weren’t for this stupid engagement, I would have gladly left if it meant going back to China and get rid of this curse!” He snapped. “All she does is accuse me of cheatin’ when I never laid a finger on Shampoo or Ukyo, but when I help her? She gets mad and throws things at me, sayin’ she didn’t even need me! I didn’t come to Japan just so Pops can marry off without my asking, but here I am!”

“Ranma…”

“If I’m gonna get married, then I wanna be with someone that doesn’t always call me a pervert or a jerk and is just - I don’t know, nice and just listens to me instead of accusing me of something I didn’t do!” He looked up at you. “If I were given the choice all over again to pick someone to be my fiancée, I’d choose you a hundred times over Akane, [First Name]!”

What neither of you realized is that there was an audience who heard Ranma’s confession right outside of the dojo: Mr. Saotome, your father, and Nabiki. The only one who saw the whole thing happen was a cat with light pink fur and tiny bells dangling from her ears sitting by a window, her dark pink eyes narrowed in displeasure as she released a low meow.

Taglist: @itzmeme @ottjhe @loverofyandereboys @hoodiepandaninja16 @djh4l0v3rv3r @floweringdaisie @conkiers @alee24x

#an idyllic novelist #fem!reader #ranma saotome x reader #ranma 1/2 #ranma remake #ranma saotome #ranma ½ #ranma 2024 #mini series

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