#satoruschapstic

[satoruschapstic]

Hi! May I make a request? jjk or tokrev boys and how they sleep, like in what clothes they sleep or their sleep habits smth like that

Thank you in advance 🤍

a/n: heyy, thank you so much for your request! idk if that's really what you wanted to see but i tried lol, hope you like it <3 i also included both jjk and tokrev cause why not

🌃WHAT THEY SLEEP IN HEADCANONS🌃

characters: satoru, suguru, kento, megumi, ran, rindou, draken, takashi

content: fluff, kisses, nudity

SATORU GOJO

okay lemme just say that this child sleeps in the weirdest pjs you've ever seen. and by the weirdest i mean whichever design comes to your mind when you think about kids pajamas. trucks? he has one. dinosaurs? tons of them in his closet. pjs of literally every color and every pattern imaginable. giraffes? wait a minute, he needs a moment to find it. oh yeah, here it is. he'll definitely buy you a matching set of pajamas, so you both can lay in bed looking cool af. pls don't make fun of him, he's a man child, so it's forgivable. i am one hundred percent sure that among all the other gifts he'll give you christmas pajamas every year just for the funnies. also wear a super comfy pj with unicorns he bought you, when he's feeling down and he'll start smiling brightly in a matter of seconds cause you're just too cute. you both will spend the evening cuddling on your king-size bed with you trying to watch a movie and him trying to count all the unicorns on your shirt and announcing every number way too loud. good luck with your movie.

SUGURU GETO

i headcanon that geto sleeps naked periodt. it's important to him that there's nothing inbetween, only his body pressed against the sheets, he's laying on, or you pressed against his bare chest. nothing less, nothing more. also i think he is of the opinion that his body should breathe and not be buried under the clothes. i mean imagine the view you'd have when you get out of the shower in the morning after the steamy night with a man of your wet dreams aka suguru geto. he's lying on his stomach, strong arms around a pillow. he's not wearing a single piece of clothing, you can see every muscle of his back, every mole on his skin every single detail you wanted to see so badly before. only his butt is half-covered with a piece of blanket, leaving a little room for your imagination. you better hurry up and go back to bed asap preferably without any clothes as well. the man doesn't like not having you by his side, cause he loves the sight of you just as much as you do if not more.

KENTO NANAMI

here he is. the man of my personal dreams. i truly believe that kento sleeps just in a plain white t-shirts and a pair of comfy checkered slacks. and he looks so goddamn good in it. idk about you but when i think about him laying in bed looking like this, wearing glasses, while reading a book AND WITH HIS HAIR BEING STILL A BIT DAMP AFTER THE SHOWER, I'M TURNING INTO A MESS. anyways i do think he prefers something cozy and not too tight to sleep in but if you spent the night doing what i wish i had a chance to do with him, he'd sleep half naked cause he loves the feeling of your hot skin on his bare chest and under his fingertips. he's gonna whisper sweet silly things into your ear till you fall asleep smiling toothy and then he won't even notice the moment he drifts off to sleep with you in his arms. don't be so naïve to believe that you can leave your bed that easy in the morning, he'll pull you back right in, saying it'll take only 5 minutes but you both end up getting late. he hates working overtime, but he never said anything about being late yk.

MEGUMI FUSHIGURO

megumi imo sleeps in baggy clothes like a long sleeve shirt and a pair of pants. nothing too bright, only discreet colors cause low-key the man is kind of a goth okay. his sheets are always clean and soft like clouds. you always wonder what kind of detergent he uses cause they smell good as well. and the way he smells oh my, do nuzzle into his neck while you're chilling in your bed together. it'll send tons of goosebumps down his spine and his cheeks will turn into subtle shade of pink and it's so worth it. he'll grumble something quietly about it being ticklish but don't believe him he won't trade the feeling for anything in the world. i also think he likes to sleep on his side, hugging you from behind and holding tight to his chest. he can hold your hand and play with your fingers cause it just feels like the right thing to do before falling asleep?? despite his grumpy demeanor, he always smiles when he's with you, he's too bad at hiding it. expect some kisses all over your neck and shoulders when you're facing away from him, cause he just can't help it.

RAN HAITANI

oh this man of class right here, let's forget his background for a sec and focus on bonten!ran, shall we? he sleeps totally naked, graciously whirling around on his expensive silk sheets, it's a canon for me. spacious bedroom, dim lights, king-sized bed too big to sleep there alone. that's why the first thing you see when you enter his bedroom is his shit eating grin plastered on his ridiculously handsome face while he pats the spot next to him on the bed. the moment your body touches the smooth sheets you're already caged in his strong arms. you won't get away without tons of marks all over your silky skin. he'd try and get rid of your nightgown, cause skin to skin contact is supreme. give in to him, you won't regret it. the atmosphere is intimate and welcoming but it doesn't mean he's not prepared for the unexpected. his beloved baton is somewhere under the bed, just in case.

RINDOU HAITANI

rin crosses the threshold of your shared bedroom, pulling his T-shirt over his head, leaving him in baggy pants that hang loosely on his hips. try to take your eyes off his torso and his tattoo covering half of his body. hyperventilating? i'm calling the ambulance. he carefully puts his glasses on the nightstand and takes his place on the bed next to you. he may seem intimidating at times with all these seriousness imprinted on his face but he's so goofy. he'll wrap you in a blanket so you look like a burrito and cover your face with kisses while you giggle and beg him to let go off you. he won't. as revenge, sneak into the shower while he's relaxing there after work and turn on the cold water. the sound is the delight for the ears. no one has ever reached such a high note, believe me.

DRAKEN

the man sleeps only in his underwear, cause it's cool and comfy he said it to me himself. i think he usually sleeps on his side facing you, his hand wrapped loosely around your waist. go ahead and rub the back of his head, ghost your fingers on the lines of his head tattoos and you'll hear quiet sounds of contentment coming out of his mouth. i also believe that draken LOVES watching sunsets with you, so you both are going to bed after midnight. he's always down for nighttime walks, when the city sinks into silence and darkness. your fingers are intertwined, and he looks at you furtively, smiling. he won't pass up a chance to wander into an alley to steal a few kisses from you. there's no need to be afraid to go out at night when you have a guy like that. lucky you.

TAKASHI MITSUYA

he sleeps in something he sewed for himself. something soft, warm, and a bit too big for him, yet trendy. be his model and he'll make you the best pajamas or nightgown you've ever seen. mitsuya has at least three pillows on his bed and the softness of them is incomparable. the sheets are always fresh and clean and the bed is carefully made. i like to think he's the kind of person who brings you breakfast in bed and watches you sleep softly removing strands of hair from your face and caressing your cheek. i don't know he's just so sweet and caring so pls don't leave his side and try to sleep on the couch after the argument. he's gonna suffer on the floor next to your sleeping figure and trying to at least hold your hand.

reblogs are very much appreciated <3

[nanamikentoseyebags]

I went to war with myself, for you

and when your worst nightmare is about to come true, what are the chances that you can stop it?

pairing: nanami kento x gn!reader

content: angst, angst, angst, hurt with comfort, mentions of death, mentions of weapons, blood, kisses, a bit of fluff.

a/n: i've been thinking about this for a long time and it's finally here. the main character here rewrites kento's destiny, because that's what he deserves. literally every word of it is filled with my personal pain that gege caused me by killing him. it's also my very first fanfic that i'm posting on my main, if you wanna check out the others, you can do it here - @satoruschapstic. i'm deeply sorry for all the inaccuracies and mistakes! hope you enjoy it <3

Everything comes with a price. It's a simple truth that you learned when you were just a child, born as a sorcerer into an ordinary family, burdened by mundane concerns. You were different from all the children of your age, able to understand and see much more than they ever could. Hoping to find a place where you could put all your energy into and learn how to master your body you tried all kinds of martial arts. You picked things up quickly. You were fast, agile, resilient and athletic. But no one understood back then that behind this strength and speed was something big, something special, terrifying even. Your reward and your curse.

Your power came out of the blue, even though all the time you felt that there was something in your veins besides human blood, something that would change you and your life over time. And so it did.

It was an ordinary day at school, when your little figure was hurrying to the exit, hoping not to be late for your training, and then you heard someone crying quietly. You turned to the direction of the sound and found a little girl squatting with her eyes squeezed shut and her backpack pressed to her chest. There were boys standing in a semicircle around her, looking way older. One of them was holding her tightly by the collar of her school uniform jacket. Without a moment's hesitation, you headed toward the group of hooligans, and as you got closer, you called out to her bully, asking him to leave the girl alone. He only grinned, spitting a few insults in your direction and returning his gaze to the victim. But you weren't planning on giving up. You never did. As you made your way through the crowd of boys, who squealed approvingly as the bully's hand soared up to hit the utterly terrified girl, you stood flat between them, shielding her. Until that moment, you didn't realize how small you were compared to all the boys, who were now huddled in an even tighter circle and staring predatorily at the newly emerged intercessor. Before the bully could utter a word, you touched his forehead with two fingers, guided by some unknown force.

You remember what happened next very vaguely. Your head felt like it was clenched in a vice, your vision went blurry; you knelt down so you wouldn't fall over, and on the ground you saw the boy's body. Then the scene changed, and you were still there. The same school, the same place, but there was no little girl, no crowd of rowdy bullies. Only the boy, but he was no longer lying there, he was standing in front of you, just as confused as you were. You did not remember the details of the conversation that happened between you afterwards, the only thing you remember is the hands of your mother, who pulled you closer to her chest when she saw you finally coming to your senses. Later, you told her everything you could, while fighting the unbearable headache and the fatigue that had finally gotten the better of you. You fell asleep almost as soon as your story was over, and that night you had strange dreams in which reality intertwined with imaginary worlds, but somehow everything seemed more than real.

Your story as a sorcerer began when your parents brought you to Tokyo and took you to Tokyo Jujutsu High. The school building was well hidden on Tokyo's outskirts, far and high in the mountains. They said it was a place where they would help you figure out your strengths and explain everything that was happening to you. It was there that they told you what your special technique was, the very thing that flowed in your veins and yearned to break out into the light. At first you were over the moon, finally having all your questions answered. But then came the moment when you had to learn the price of such a gift. The first blow was the separation from your parents. With tears in their eyes, feeling that they were leaving their child at the mercy of fate, they stepped outside the gates of the tech and smiled at you bitterly for the last time. You were crestfallen and in an attempt to get over your sorrow you plunged headlong into the exploration of your abilities.

The college director was by your side helping you to grasp the main things every sorcerer should have known. He laid out all your thoughts, but also planted a seed of doubt and fear that lurked somewhere in the depths of your soul. He explained that your power was one of the rarest, and involved the ability to put an enemy into a dream, yet control their subconscious. You were kind of a dream traveler, able to enter anyone’s dream and turn it into a nightmare, because everything you did to them in a dream happened in real time. You were an invaluable asset to their college, an indispensable player, an important figure. But things weren't quite as rosy as you first imagined. You were full of hope that on the battlefields you could finally be of any help and reach your potential. Yes, the amount of cursed energy in you was incredible, but it dropped to almost zero when you used your ability straight away. You had to recover for about a month or so to be useful again, to be of any value whatsoever. You still went on missions, but simple physics was often just not enough. And for the second time you realized how unfair everything could be. There were times when you weren’t able to save your loved ones, even if you seemed to have tremendous power in your hands. And you felt like you weren't enough: pathetic and useless pawn in this big game.

But despite all the twists and turns in life, all the difficulties that fate threw at you, you tried to stay afloat. You learned further, you perfected your techniques. You mastered how to control your energy, and how to use cursed objects. You became a 1st grade sorcerer. But you never stopped feeling useless, superfluous, no matter how often those around you said they were jealous of your ability. Your superiors told you to be careful not to use your power until the big day. But it felt like it’d never come.

You went with the flow of life, accepting the conditions of the higher–ups and battling your inner demons that threatened to overpower you. You found solace in other sorcerers. You found friends – people who shared your views, people who kept you from sinking into your own mire of thoughts. But there was one person who seemed to understand you better than himself. The man with whom you always went on missions without fear of being killed, or worse, humiliated. Kento Nanami always treated you with understanding. He never put any pressure on you, trusting your abilities to know what to do and how to do it. He left you free to act, coming to your aid only when he saw that you really needed it. People said that with your potential and your abilities, you could have easily surpassed him. You could have been stronger. Only if you weren't trapped by your own stupid technique. So it was always Kento who was saving you. You didn't know why, but he was always faster, more nimble, sturdier. He was nowhere and everywhere. He moved with mad speed, preventing the curse from even attempting anything, when his knife was already dissecting its flesh, dividing it into even pieces.

You were grateful. Every time he picked you up from the ground, covered in scratches and bruises, and told you that it wasn't your fault, and the curse was too obstinate, you were grateful. You smiled weakly at him, noticing the worry that clouded his eyes as he carefully treated the wound on your shoulder. He never voiced his concerns and never challenged you to talk, respecting your personal boundaries. And he never said how sorry he was, knowing that pity was the last thing you needed at this point. You cherished that, and you never opened up. Never to anyone. No matter how much time you spent together or what you went through.

But you snapped once. The two of you were fighting a special grade curse in Kyoto that had already managed to hurt a large number of people. You moved in a perfect unison, inflicting critical injuries on your enemy. And you were finally able to feel that you could compete, that you could be important and make a difference. Just then, out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Kento who was pinned to the ground by one of the curse’s tentacles, immobilized, but his face showed no emotion; on the contrary, he seemed even more confident in his strength.  You calculated where it would be best to strike to free him, as all of a sudden, the curse, taking advantage of the one–second pause, lifted you into the air and hurled you into the building behind you. Your frail figure smashed through hundreds of walls before landing on the concrete floor. You could not move; blood oozing from your mouth. The katana you often took with you was now lying out of reach. In an instant, the curse was already over you, opening a wide maw with hundreds of thousands of teeth to end your life here and now. Despair and hopelessness swept over you, tears were coursing treacherously down your cheeks, blood was pooling in your veins. You weren't afraid to die. You were disgusted that you had failed your partner. You lost again.

You closed your eyes, swallowing convulsively and exhaling a quiet "fuck", ready to feel the sharp fangs piercing through your body. But all you felt were streams of blood, now covering most of your clothes and dripping onto the floor, mixing with your own blood. You opened your eyes and saw Kento in front of you, wiping the remains of the curse off his knife and kneeling down to you. You didn't hear a word he said, leaning over you and staring fearfully into your eyes. You managed to find the strength to wrap your bloody arm around his neck to pull him closer. You couldn't hold on any longer; you cried bitterly, clutching his shirt so tightly that your knuckles turned white. You talked about all your fears between your sobs, you poured out your heart to him, and you apologized a hundred times for not being able to help him. Your hand never loosened its grip on the fabric of his shirt, not even for a second. Kento was nodding knowingly, hоlding you gently in fear of hurting you, and quietly whispered words of encouragement against the top of your head. You spent about an hour like that, opening each other's wounded and blood–covered souls, finding meaning anew in each other's arms. From then on, you never parted again. You knew each other's darkest secrets. You were each other's sanctuary. And you didn't need anyone else.

You began to get used to life with Kento, and he made it easier for you just by his presence. You hadn't felt such ease and security in a long time. You were still going on missions together, but their number had noticeably lessened lately, and both of you were running towards a normal, unencumbered life with open arms, ready as ever to enjoy the simple things that you had failed to notice before. But darkness was already waiting for you around the corner, stretching out its bony arms and ready to pull you down with it.

You began to have strange dreams, not the kind you've been used to since childhood. Different. More frightening. More disturbing. Making you wake up in a cold sweat in the middle of the night. You didn't pay much attention to them at first, but when they began to come true, you grew anxious. At first, they were harmless dreams, in which you saw the exact places where the curses would operate. Then you began to dream about people you knew. They were getting wounded during a fight. Some of them were dying; some of them could find the way to escape. You told Kento about everything, and then you went to Gojo, who at first brushed it off, but when he realized your dreams were kind of bad omens for the jujutsu world, he made you promise that you would tell him everything you saw and that he would make sure to deal with the aftermath of your dreams.

Several times you tried to go to the places you saw in your dreams, explaining that if was you who saw them, it meant it was your cross and you had to bear alone. But neither Satoru nor Kento would let you go, knowing how tough your recoveries usually went. So you returned to this vicious circle from which there was no way out. You were plagued by helplessness, worried about others being sent on your missions, and slept very little for fear of another nightmare. But they didn't leave you for a second. You were the first to see a pink–haired boy eating an indefinable finger in your dream, the transformation that happened to him made you jump up in bed screaming. No one knew anything at the time about the boy or the fingers. Only Gojo hummed meaningfully and once again asked you not to worry. After a while, you met Itadori in person, the boy who had become the vessel of the King of Curses. Another failure in your piggy bank.

Your nightmares grew more monstrous, more vivid, more real with each passing day. You could only find a modicum of tranquility in the presence of Kento. Who gently stroked your hair as you fell asleep curled at his side. He watched intently for every change in the rhythm of your heart, your breathing, your facial expression, looking for signs that you were in the middle of another nightmare once again. But that almost never happened when he shared the bed with you. He was your magic sleeping pill. A little happy pill that allowed you to forget yourself for a moment.

That's why you were terrified to close your eyes today, knowing that Kento wouldn't be back until tomorrow morning. You struggled to occupy yourself with something, to distract, to hide from the inevitable. But in the end you drifted off into a dream that once again divided your life into before and after. You saw many familiar faces, an empty subway station, friends, enemies, all mixed into an incomprehensible, fiercely screaming mass. You heard metal clanking, human shrieks, you saw blood and limbs. You saw someone's twisted grimace, someone's silhouette fading into the distance, their face impossible to discern behind a cascade of raven–wing hair. It looked familiar. Frighteningly familiar. Then you caught sight of Kento, the left side of his face covered in blood, his eye missing. He was standing in front of an odd–looking man. He had a single cycloptic eye, pale gray skin but the top of his head faded into a brown color where the volcanic opening was, he looked like the one Gojo mentioned in his report. And then you saw fire. The fire that engulfed Kento from his head to his toes. The fire that was coming from the curse. You tried to scream, but you couldn't. No sound came out of your mouth. The scene changed rapidly, now you could hear Itadori's voice calling out Kento's name, but everything was shrouded in darkness. Then you saw another one, he had stitches all across his body. The same curse that had already wounded Kento not so long ago. You saw his hand flying into the air. Things seemed to freeze. As if in slow motion, you saw your loved one's body shattered into splinters. Your deafening scream echoed through the empty apartment that was Nanami's. You jumped up on the bed, covering your mouth with shaking hands, holding back your sobs and trembling all over. You buried your face in your hands, hoping to hide from what had just frightened you to death. Unable even to sit up straight, you collapsed back onto the bed, curled up and shuddering with sobs. You howled so loudly that you failed to hear the sound of footsteps approaching you, but only felt the warmth of familiar hands gently pulling you to a wide chest.

“What happened, y/n? What? One of your nightmares? I'm here, it's okay, shhh, it's over, it was just a dream,” his concerned voice pulled you out of your thoughts.

Kento now held you tightly to him, placing you gently in his lap. His hand was carefully stroking your head, tucking the loose strands of hair behind your ear.

“Look at me, my love. Whatever it was, we can handle it together. I promise, just tell me what's wrong,” he said softly, almost in a whisper, but just enough for you to hear the notes of tenderness and care in his voice.

You lifted your head hesitantly, exposing your tearful eyes to him. Trickles of tears still oozed from your eyes as you frantically tried to memorize every wrinkle on his face, as if he was going to disappear in the next moment. Kento left a light kiss on your forehead, deftly wiping away your tears with his thumbs.

“It's all right, you can tell me everything.”

He repeated softly, albeit persistently, letting you know that you don't have to keep it all to yourself and cope with it alone. He was there to ease your pain. Little did he know at the time that all your pain and all your happiness lay in him alone. Your heart was bursting out of your chest, hoping to unite with his heart and beat in tune, knowing that it would never again be torn apart by separation. You don't know how you found the strength to answer him and sound convincing.

“It's all right, really, just one of those nightmares I used to have when I was a kid. I don't know why it scared me so much now, probably because you weren't around,” you said quietly, not trusting your voice.

A pack of lies. That’s what it was. You weren't sure who exactly it was good for: you, because you couldn't make yourself to repeat the awful details of your nightmare, looking into his honeyed eyes, or him, because otherwise he had to know what fate had in store for him. He was the last man on earth who could ever deserve such a thing. You hated yourself for the false words that poured from your mouth, but you couldn't have it any other way. The truth always comes out, but you hoped it wouldn't now.

Kento believed you, or pretended to do so. But he never brought it up again, seeing how painful and difficult it was for you to restrain the dread that stirred in your bosom. Yet you never forgot a thing, not for a second. Fear was slowly shackling you in its iron grip, not letting you take a deep breath. You carried these thoughts and fragments of the dream with you for several more days, until the heaviness in your chest became unbearable. You went in search of Gojo, deep in your heart hoping to find some relief in his words. He was the only person to whom you told that wretched dream, withholding nothing, trying to recollect the smallest details.

“You have nothing to be afraid of,” he said in a frighteningly calm voice, “this day will never come. Who said all of your nightmares have to come true, huh? It could just be a dream where things got mixed up. Don't worry your pretty little head about it, sweets. Nanami will be just fine.”

“But...,” before you could even begin, Satoru cut you off.

“But if that day ever comes, I'll take care of it, I'm the strongest, remember?” he smiled broadly, winking, and encouragingly shook you by the shoulders before disappearing around the corner.

Your heart desperately wished to believe him, to grasp the thought and never let it go, to give in to this devious deception. But your mind knew that it was a vain hope that you couldn’t afford.

So you spent your days in a constant emotional torment, clinging to Kento a little more often, holding him a little longer before leaving on another mission, kissing him a little more desperate in the hope of delaying the day's arrival.

But it came many times faster than you could have ever anticipated.

It seems all you had time to do was blink, there you were, lying on Kento's chest, tracing patterns on his skin, enveloped in warmth and serenity, as the next moment, he was going on a mission to Shibuya, donning his jacket. You knew that this was exactly what you feared the most. Your made–up quiet life was crumbling before your eyes with every step he took toward the door. Your heart was beating with such force in your temples that you could barely hear your own thoughts. You followed him on his heels as he gathered the necessary things, frantically fidgeting your fingers and trying to find a reason for him to stay. His calm expression wasn't helping; you wanted to punch him in the chest, to tell him that he couldn't leave you like this; he couldn't be so calm, walking toward his death…And he could not know that, but even if he did, he would rather be of service there, and lay down his life saving others. In your mind you were sending his heroism to hell, but you knew he was doing the right thing. You ran barefoot after him to the door, desperately grabbing his hand and begging him not to leave. He only smiled warmly, kissing you on the lips a few times goodbye.

“Before you know it, I'll be back, and we'll go to our favorite restaurant and order our [favorite dish], I promise. Don't miss me that much," he added between kisses, I’ll still have time to bore you.”

“Bullshit...,” you whispered helplessly, “why can't you stay with me? Please? They can handle it. Or I could go with you.”

“These kids need help; I can be of help to them there, who knows what that veil means, and what lies behind it. And you need to take care of yourself, darling. I love you.”

Those were the last words you heard, and then the door closed behind him. You slowly slid down the wall, choking back tears and hating your own helplessness. You cursed everyone and everything for constantly being robbed of the opportunity to just be. It was so damn unfair, how many trials had fallen to your fates, but in spite of that, your paths crossed, your lives collided, only to have him taken away forever.

The higher–ups refused to send you along, assuring you that if things got really bad, you would be their ace in the hole. So you were left alone with your thoughts in an empty college classroom, wondering how you could be their trump card if you couldn't save the dearest man in your life. Oh and how you begged for your prayers to be answered, for Satoru to take care of everything and bring Nanami back to you alive. You sat in a chair by the window, swaying frantically, your eyes remained focused on the skyline. You had an earpiece in your ear, like all the sorcerers who went there. You flinched at every rustle, every sound breaking the silence of the half–empty building. It was the only way you could get the latest news in real time. You couldn't stay in one place for long, either sitting or standing up, or pacing the room with your hands in your pockets for hours. You felt as if you were in a cage, unable to leave the confines of your own prison. Your lips were bleeding from how hard your teeth were digging into them.

And then you received news that made your heart stop beating, and you barely had time to grab the edge of the table to keep your balance and not fall to the floor. Satoru got sealed. You couldn't really comprehend anything. Your thoughts were muddled, and your legs were treacherously shaky. But...he's the strongest, isn't he? What would happen to all those left to fight now? The questions swarmed through your head, giving you a massive headache. If anything, there was no one else to come to help.

You'd been too long the one to be rescued, hidden, fed on promises, and left behind. You had the strength that some students were envious of, and you were no worse than the rest – perhaps even superior in some respects. You were so tired of being cornered, scared, weak and vulnerable. You had strength in you that anyone who came across your path would know about. You no longer planned to hide; you grabbed your backpack, and, clutching your katana tightly in your hand, headed straight to the open grinning mouth of the monster called doom.

Meanwhile, physical pain permeating Kento’s whole body reverberated with tenfold force in his heart; once behind the veil, he realized that things were much worse than anyone could have ever imagined. Gojo was in a prison realm, which meant that an even greater responsibility for the lives of all the students fell on his shoulders. His thoughts were filled with you when one of the curses almost took his life, the moment he lost his left eye. His hair was now down, blond strands covered with dried blood clinging to his forehead. His shirt, once clean and perfectly ironed, was now torn in places, showing traces of blood that was not his own. But he kept moving forward you, knowing that you would do the same, you would return to him, no matter what it cost. And he would do the same. The steps no longer came as easily as before, but he tried to ignore such trifles. Now it was vital to concentrate on the enemy, to think faster, more coherent, more unpredictable. Kento stepped toward Jogo, hoping to protect Megumi and Maki, who had suffered enough already. And they were just children who should never have experienced such horrors of life. He swung his knife to strike, but his opponent moved twice faster, reaching out, almost touching his torso, as someone pushed Kento back with force, cutting off the curse’s arm up to the elbow.

 Kento, falling backwards, looked up in disbelief only to meet your [color] eyes, which were filled with mixture of remorse and relief. You clutched your katana firmly, blood dripping from its edge. You couldn't wait to hug him tightly right then and there, as the sight of him shattering your heart into a billion pieces, but you had to finish what you started.

“Let me save you just once,” you muttered softly, barely managing to touch the Jogo’s forehead, who seemed to lose sight of what was happening, pressing the rest of his bloody hand to his chest and screaming in an unmanly voice, as Kento leaped up and tried to catch your hand. All he felt was emptiness. It was too late and he found himself separated by a barrier created by your Domain Expansion.  Now that Jogo was trapped inside of it, all power was concentrated in your small hands, and you weren't going to give him any indulgences.

“Who are you and what the hell are you doing?” The cursed spirit shrieked, baring his black teeth and choking with indignation, his eyes darting from your face to your katana.

“It doesn't matter who I am, you'd better think of yourself,” you ignored his questions, and with a sudden, unprecedented confidence, you strode slowly back and forth, not even glancing at him.

“Where are we? Where is everyone?” Jogo looked around; trying to spot anyone's presence, but the station was completely empty. A grimace of horror washed over his face.

“We're in your dream,” you finally turned in his direction, “I'm inside your head, and your body is lying on the floor there on the station while we're here chatting. And while we're here, you're going to tell me what the hell is going on here and who's behind it all. I know someone is using Geto's body. Who’s that and why?”

 “Why would I ever answer your fucking questions? You're just another useless bitch who pretends to be worth something,” he grinned, clenching his single hand into a fist.

“You see, you're deeply wrong on my account, I actually do worth something. You're on my territory now, and if you don't tell me anything, you'll die, I guarantee that,”  you raised your katana, pointing it in his direction.

  “And if I do?” Jogo narrowed his eye, looking at you intently.       

“Then you'd die quicker and less excruciatingly, I could arrange that,” the corners of your lips curved up, forming a semblance of a smile. “You won't touch any of these people again.”

“Oh, so it's something personal,” now it was the curse's turn to look down at you, smiling evilly. I wanted to set that blond guy on fire so fucking much.

Something shivered inside you, but you didn't give it away, continuing to look directly at him. Your face showed no emotion.

“It is, but that's none of your fucking business. It's time for you to hurry up and make a decision about my offer. It seems it was very merciful of me not to kill you in agony.”

 “Fuck you!” he shrieked furiously and sprinted towards you.

There was a snap. The only thing Jogo heard was a snap before he was blown to bits. Since the cursed energy in you reached its peak, that simple gesture was just enough to end it all at once.

The barrier, through which Kento had been vainly trying to break through all this time, collapsed the second the last drop of Jogo's blood touched the cold concrete floor. You turned around in an instant and saw your man, his hands with the knife hovering in place, exactly where the barrier wall had once been. His startled eye scanned you for visible wounds, but as soon as Kento realized you were unharmed, he tossed the knife aside, closing the distance between you in a few steps. You dropped your katana, instinctively wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your whole body against him. Kento could feel you trembling in his arms. Pulling you impossibly close to his body, his arms wrapped around your waist. As you found the strength to pull away slightly, your hands moved to his face, now gently stroking his blood–covered cheekbones. "You're alive, you're alive," you repeated as if in a delirium, gently brushing his hair away from his forehead. Your gaze flickered across his face until it landed on his lips. Unable to wait any longer, you kissed him, not giving him a chance to say a word. It was messy, desperate, so impatient, yet so moving. Teeth, tongues and all. Your fingers clutched the collar of his shirt, as he ran his hand through your hair.

You pulled away first, smiling weakly, but so sincerely through your tears. Kento gently wiped the tear that was rolling down your cheek.

“You...where is that curse? Are you okay? I... I nearly lost my mind, why are you here and...” he whispered, resting his forehead against yours.

  “Shh,” you put your index finger to his lips, “he's gone, I got rid of him, but that's not over. I need to tell you everything, I need to tell you everything I saw in that dream when you found me in our bedroom, remember? You have to listen to me. We can't let this happen; we have to make it right. I'm not leaving without you.”

And you told him everything that was going to happen next, not hiding a thing, caressing his hand, assuring him that things would be okay. You were able to contact the others to give coordinates. You knew the place where Mahito would be waiting, and with a heavy heart, but his hand in yours, you headed there. Kento wasn't sure your plan would work, and somewhere in the back of his mind he was almost resigned to the fact that he would die today, because both yours and his powers, were running out, but the faith that finally sparked somewhere deep within you, your eyes that burned with hope for the first time in years became his little driving force.

It seemed like you got there a little too quickly. Your self–confidence was dwindling with every step you took. But you had no right to make a mistake. Kento had come to your rescue so many times; without him, you would have been dead long ago. You had to find the strength to help everyone.

Kento went first. You were left waiting and once again praying to God that you would be in time to help. The sound of his shoes hitting the floor echoed through the deserted station. Kento walked confidently down the stairs, knife at the ready.

“Here you are at last, and all by yourself. Wanna chat?” A tall figure rounded a corner, coming out into the light.  He has long grayish–blue hair covering part of his face, but his twisted smile was impossible to miss, “no one would bother us, it’s been a while.” His figure started approaching Kento, extending his arms in an open hug.

“He's not alone, you fucker,” you hissed, stepping out of the shadows, appearing behind Kento's back. At the same moment, other sorcerers in all directions began to come out, trapping Mahito in a circle. For a moment his face lit up in amazement, and taking advantage of the pause, Kento struck a blow, cutting off the hand that had been extended to him. Mahito froze in place, staring in bewilderment at the spot where his hand had just been.

„It's funny that you're all here,” he burst out laughing insanely, flying into the air and landing a little farther away, “it's more entertaining that way.” He waved a hand, tossing the little figures to the floor and at the same moment the pile of curses, which were once humans, increased in size and moved toward you. All the sorcerers who were there rushed into action, using all their techniques, flying into the air as they moved with the speed of the wind, scattering curses in different directions. You fought back–to–back with Kento, not moving a step away. You wielded your blades swiftly and skillfully, slicing apart the creatures that approached you.

Mahito was on the sidelines, climbing on top of the photo booth, watching with rapt attention as everyone fought to the death. But his gaze was fixed on Kento.

„Oh how much I enjoy watching you, we could have been good friends… but it's time to get rid of you,” he giggled, jumping to the ground and motioning in your direction.

You could see him coming, the way he deftly dodged punches from all sides. Mahito moved as if the station was empty and there was no one around him, no katanas ringing through the air and nothing disturbing the silence. His long hair was flying in the wind, revealing his fastened with stitches face, blood dripping from the rest of his arm, leaving trails stretching behind him.

You swallowed hard, glancing furtively at Kento, who was fighting another curse beside you without seeing what was going on behind, and with icy hands but a hot heart you lifted your head, raising an eyebrow.

“Is it time for real fun?” you uttered with ostensible confidence.

“Oh yes, and you're getting in the way,” he tilted his head, displaying his grin. “I'm going to have to end it with you real quick.”

His arm extended forward, almost grabbing you by the throat, but you jumped to his side just in time, splitting part of his face with your katana. You moved easily, confidently, precisely, remembering how your trainer had praised you when you'd knocked out boys twice your size as a little girl. You fought off all his attacks, and with every second his lips grew into a bigger smile. He played with you like a cat with a mouse, letting you get closer and inflicting painful wounds. And, when, you hesitated for a second, searching for Kento with your eyes, Mahito flung your katana away and swept you off your feet, pinning you to the floor with his foot.

“It's fun with you, too,” he leaned closer, “but time is running out, and I have an important business here, so,” his hand, which had turned into a drill, moved closer to your face, “it's time to say goodbye.”

You knew that without the ability to use your technique and the low level of cursed energy you had almost no chance to gain the upper hand. So you relied entirely on your physical abilities, and your goal was to distract and hold him off until someone else could deliver the final blow. And then, out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Kento's figure emerge behind him.

“I'll miss you,” you said, spitting blood.

His eyebrows rose in surprise, and his lips fluttered open to say something else, but the next second, Kento's knife sliced him in half.

You threw your head back, exhaling spasmodically, lifting your arm with desperate efforts to cover the wound on your side. Kento was right beside you, covering your hand with his own, looking regretfully at your small, bruised figure, lying in a pool of blood. All the sounds subsided; you could see that not a single curse was left around you anymore. Itadori helped Megumi up, looking intently in your direction.

“It'll be all right,” you said quietly, smiling haggardly, and pointed to your intertwined hands, blood slowly seeping out through your fingers. “Shoko will patch us up, and we'll be fine, and...”

“Thank you for saving me,” you both said simultaneously, without taking your eyes off each other.

You smiled softly, reaching your hand out to his face, gently running your thumb across the left side of his face. Tears welled up in the corners of your eyes.

„I wish I'd gotten there sooner, we could have kicked everyone's asses,” you squeezed your eyes shut, and, overcoming the pain, you gingerly sat down on the floor.

“We did it,” Kento smiled softly, taking your hand in his, kissing your palm, “and now we have to get out of here.”

He was at his wits' end, but nothing could stop him from lifting you into his arms bridal style. His arms gently wrapped around you, pulling you close to him, and slowly, limping, he carried you to the exit of the station, to where the veil ended and your life was to begin from scratch. Yes, it was only the beginning of the war, but for you, it was now over.

    ***

 It's been months of long recovery for both of you so that you can now sit together in a restaurant and truly enjoy that very [favorite dish]. Your eyes sparkle with pure joy, and a smile almost never leaves your lips, just from the fact that Kento is sitting across from you, smiling embarrassedly at the corners of his lips, not yet used to his new look, but he's getting there. Your hands rest on the table, fingers intertwined, like your lives that no one else will ever be able to part again. You smile even wider, moving closer to him and leaving a light kiss on his cheek, just under his eye patch. And for the first time, you feel that it is not the nightmare that stops you, but it is you who now stops it.

@shamelessperfectionhideout @vagabond-umlaut @afortoru @mitsuyeaah @gojoshooter @nikokopuffs @luckimoon @sokivv ���             

comments and reblogs are very much appreciated! <3

[satoruschapstic]

｡FEEL REAL°

your best friend shows up at your place late at night, covered in blood. can one night change everything?

pairing: manjiro "mikey" sano x gn!reader

content: fluff, slightly suggestive at the end, friends to lovers, a bit of angst if you squint, mentions of blood and injuries

a/n: so this is my first tokyorev work like EVER so please don't judge me <3 it's also self-indulgent cause i'm obsessed with the idea of treating wounds, it's the peak of intimacy fight with the wall lol. hope you like it tho, leave a comment so i know what you think, enjoy <3

You are already halfway asleep, trying to unwind after a terribly exhausting day, when you hear a loud knock on the door. You rise up on the bed trying to shake off the remnants of sleep, rubbing your eyes. While listening to the rustling on the threshold of the front door, you hope it’s only a bad dream. But what is happening is more than real. You wait for a stranger to give up and go back to where he comes from. But this someone keeps banging on the door, apparently not even considering the possibility that no one is at home. You get out of bed and head toward the door, cursing to yourself in the process. Whoever it is, they're going to regret being born into this world in the first place.

The door swings open, revealing a tall figure that looks suspiciously familiar, even though it’s almost impossible to see his face in the darkness. Your facial features soften as you recognize your late-night visitor’s husky voice.

“Hey there, beautiful”.

„What are you doing here, Mickey?  It’s half past three. “

You frown, crossing your arms across your chest, letting your friend know that he’s not really welcomed right now, especially considering how emotionally drained you already are. And not getting enough sleep is the last thing you want.

Mikey grins sheepishly. The sight of your little figure standing in the doorway, sleepy and disheveled after a much-needed nap that he doesn't mean to disturb, gives him a sense of comfort he can't quite fathom.

"Just wanted to visit my best friend, is that forbidden now?"

The guy smirks, leaning against the doorframe, but immediately hisses, biting his lip. Only now, under the dim light coming from your hallway, can you see how badly his face has sunk, how much his cheeks have dropped, exposing his razor-sharp cheekbones. There is a grimace of pain on Mikey's face, his blond hair sticks to his forehead, his eyebrow’s split open and blood caked under his nose. You scan his slim figure, trying to see if there are any other injuries on him. And then your eyes find his hand holding his side, blood dripping through the blonde’s fingers, immediately soaking into the rug that once said “you're not welcome“.

“Oh my god, Mickey, you’re bleeding! Come on in, what happened?”

You gently place his hand on your shoulder, supporting him, and with your other hand you gently hold his side, helping him to go inside.

„Don’t worry your pretty little head, angel. “

„You’re insufferable, you know that? “

„Yeah, but that’s the reason you love me so much. “

Mikey smiles and cautiously leans on you, trying not to put all of his weight on your small frame. His every movement is painful, but he endures it for you. So you won’t worry so much about him. It seems an unbearably long way to the living room, but the feeling of your hand gently stroking his side soothes the pain, fills him with strength and clears his mind. You help him lower himself carefully onto the couch, lovingly tucking a pillow under his back.

„You’re such an asshole for showing up at my door in the middle of the night covered in blood and not telling me what the fuck happened to you, Mickey.  You can’t keep doing this shit. “

You turn on your heels and head back to the kitchen, сlenching your hands into fists.  You reach for the first aid kit you’ve left nearby for just such occasions. Of course, this isn't the first time your bleeding friend shows up at your door. But usually they were simple bruises or small cuts on him that heal extremely fast. You never asked him for details though. You just don't want to know where he is coming from and where he is going back to after spending time with you. You know that the people around him aren't exactly diligent. And Mikey isn't a saint himself. Certainly not. But he is a good man. Or so you'd like to think, after all, he was there for you when everyone else left. He is your friend, your best friend, actually.

After taking everything you need, you go back, just to see Mickey leaning against the back of the coach, trying to even out his breathing. In the well-lit room, his features seem even sharper; the circles under his eyes are clearly visible on his pale face. But as you appear in the room his gaze returns to you. The blonde’s observing your every movement just to make sure he won’t miss any subtle changes in your expressions. Though your face shows only irritation and weariness, he sees care in your every gesture, in the soft glance that so seldom meets his.

„I thought you’d be happy to see me and there was a pretty good chance that you’d be the only person who wouldn’t kick me out. “

„God, you’re so damn annoying and maybe I should have kicked you out the second I saw you here that’d have made things easier and I could have gotten my much desired and well-deserved sleep. I want to sleep at nights, ever bothered to think about it? “

You crouch down beside him on the couch, helping him remove his jacket to clean the wound. Mikey doesn't resist; on the contrary, he willingly obeys your actions, lifting his arms and letting you take off the rest of his clothes. His heart skips a beat as your eyes run over his naked torso, shamelessly examining every detail of his muscular body. He swallows hard as he feels your hands on his skin.

„Maybe it's one of those nights when you can't sleep and only my company can help you. And I, as your best friend, felt it from a distance, and in a minute I showed up here, ever bothered to think about it? “

He tries to regain his composure by making a joke out of the situation but you just roll your eyes in return, while carefully treating his wound. The air is filled with the tangy smell of alcohol and tension, which Mikey as he thinks to himself can feel at his fingertips. He can’t quite understand is it alcohol or the smell of your perfume that is so intoxicating to him. You are so close to him that he just can't take his eyes off you. You are so focused on not hurting him, expertly wielding a needle, stitching the edges of his wound together. Your eyebrows are knitted together in a thin thread, eyes focused on his damaged skin.

„Well, in that case you're definitely not the best, because I absolutely did not suffer from the lack of your company tonight.“

You lift your head to look at him just for a second and then you go on deftly operating a needle and thread, carefully and gently sewing his cut up. You don't know where or when you learned to do it, or why you are doing it so calmly, but when you have such friends, not only  that sort of thing becomes part of the routine.

„Is that so?“

His eyes closely follow your every action as you pull out a bandage and slowly wrap it around his upper torso. The tips of your fingers barely but ever so gently touch his hot skin, your eyes remain focused, and the corners of your lips lift slightly in a faint smile as you notice a change in his voice.

„Yeah. I think somebody else could stitch you up a lot better, and I wouldn't have to scrub the blood off the couch, you know.“

You lift yourself up, moving closer so you can wipe the blood from his shattered brow. Tapping lightly, you continue your work, cleaning wound after wound on his face, noticing how hard it is for him to restrain himself from hissing. But you have to hand it to him, not a muscle in his face twitches despite how meticulously you treat his cuts.

You are expecting a sarcastic response, a chuckle, something, but he remains silent. Only then do you allow yourself to look him straight in the eye without breaking a contact for the first time that night. And oh dear, you had no idea how close your faces were to each other until that very minute. He sees the way your cheeks flush the second you realize the intimacy of the moment. You lick your lips, exhaling nervously.

„What? “

You want to sound confident, but your voice breaks, and the words come out barely above a whisper. The closeness to you, the warmth of your hands on his face, your thighs touching each other, your slightly opened lips and your hot breath, fanning his cheek leave him no choice but to indulge.

“I figured I just needed to feel your touch.”

Your mouth falls open at his response but you try to pull yourself together and act as if your heart didn’t just swoon at his words. Your palm is still on his cheek, and your other hand gently brushes his hair away from his forehead.

“What’s so special about it?”

„It’s healing and relieving…reminds me I’m still a human. It may seem that I just don’t care but when you simply touch my hair I feel real. And every damn time you look at me with these e/c eyes of yours and tell me that I’m an asshole and then spend the night with me, treating my wounds, it drives me crazy. The fact that I still can feel what I feel about you. “

His hand covers yours, gently stroking it with his thumb. His gaze never leaves yours.

„ I’ve been falling down so bad. I wanted to feel real once again.”

At that moment you seem to have lost the ability to think straight, everything is muddled and foggy, his words echo in your head, your eyes run panic-stricken over his face, hoping to find signs that he's telling the truth.

He says nothing more, only his hand slowly moves to your neck, pulling you toward him. A moment and his lips cover yours. The sensation is overwhelming. Everything that has been said and not said no longer matters. For so long, you've been deluding yourself, avoiding your feelings, sneaking away, hiding. You didn't know that all this time he was chasing you, looking for hints, catching you in the moments of your weakness. He was waiting. And he caught you. He did.

His hands move to your hips, helping you to get on his lap, so that you are straddling him. His fingers slowly ghost over your exposed skin, his soft lips feel so right against yours. You gently rub his neck, running your other hand through his hair, letting his tongue slide into your mouth. The liberation you both feel while exploring each other’s bodies is addicting, your lips move in a feverish pace, leaving you both breathless. He pulls you closer to his chest, wrapping his arms around your waist.

And perhaps the first heartfelt smile that appears on his lips in a long time as he gently strokes your side, still not wanting to pull away from you, is worth the night without sleep. Maybe all of life's twists and turns are worth that. Worth making you both feel real again.

.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･

reblogs are very much appreciated!

[satoruschapstic]

add it to my notes ♡

you got so used to seeing kento nanami's heartfelt smile when he was around but do you know you are the only one who's lucky enough to see it?

pairing: kento nanami x fem!reader

content: friends to lovers, fluff, mutual pining, kento being the sweetest he is, mentions of alcohol, mentions of satoru (🕺)

a/n: i just love him so much, it hurts on every level of my existence. everyone deserves a man like him </3 all the mistakes are mine, don't judge me pls, anyways hope you enjoy <3

You've never had a friend like this.  Never. And you've never experienced such boundless support, requiring nothing in return. He’s just there for you all the time. A shoulder to cry on, a hand to hold on to, ears to whisper your craziest ideas into. You always return the favor though. But it’s impossible sometimes not to take advantage of his kindness. Yes, you get him wrapped around your finger. But he doesn't mind, does he?

Kento Nanami has always been more of a man of action; he's not into idle chatter type of guy. He believes that actions speak louder than words. That applies not only to his family, his lovers but to you as well. Perhaps that's why he is such a great friend, the best one, actually. There was never a time when he would have turned you down for having "a late-night snack" at three in the morning at some godforsaken diner. No matter how much he would have rambled on the road and rolled his eyes when you happily turned music on in his car, he’d never say no to you. Once he was quietly waiting for you in a salon when you wanted something new to be done to your hair, lazily flipping the pages of a magazine. You just wanted someone to talk to, so there he was, listening to your rumbles about your annoying colleagues for four hours straight. And he never lied to you; he swore he really did like your hair. Even when you cried when the hairdresser cut off more centimeters than you initially planned, and it didn't look in a slightest as it did in your head. You should give credit to him, cause he somehow managed to convince you that it wasn't bad at all, maybe even better than it should have been.

What made your friendship even more precious is that there were never any secrets between the two of you. You knew every single detail about all his failed attempts to build some kind of a romantic relationship, and he was aware of your struggles to find the man of your dreams. After you broke up with your ex, it was him who wrapped you in a blanket, kissing the crown of your head, offering you your favorite dessert. And you helped him move into his new place, arranging his tastefully chosen furniture in the spacious kitchen. You always watered the flowers when he forgot about them, too immersed in his work.

But something changed one day, something clicked in your head, making you look at everything from a different perspective. It was one chilly fall evening, when the wind was mercilessly tearing the remnants of leaves from the branches of already half-naked trees. But you didn’t think much of it, really; you were getting ready for a date with a young man you had met online. You had been talking for enough time to finally set up a meeting. Your gut was telling you that he could be the one. And that’s actually how you learned not to trust your gut. Ever again.

You picked out your best dress, some jewelry and styled your hair. Kento was with you the whole time, being his usual self and giving you advice, on what to say on the first date, and what you should keep to yourself, as if he was one of these couches from cheap tabloids. He was as serious as ever, hiding a small smile behind a mug of hot tea when you tried to make him laugh by mimicking Gojo. You were in high spirits that evening and as you spun around in front of the mirror, you failed to notice how his face changed just a tiny bit. His eyes faded for a good second and the corners of his lips drooped as he looked your small figure dancing using a hairbrush as a microphone. Something turned shifted inside him when he imagined someone else's hands around your waist. But he couldn't let his possessiveness get the better of him, so he just swallowed his pride.

When you were ready, Kento politely agreed to drop you off at the restaurant where you had a date with your soon-to-be-boyfriend. He smiled one last time as you got out of the car, wishing you good luck and offering a few compliments to assure you that you indeed looked flawless. He followed you with a stern look till the moment your silhouette hid inside the building. He was watching your every move through his dark-green glasses that were resting on the bridge of his nose. He stayed there for a few more minutes before pulling away and disappearing around the corner.

You were full of hopes that night. Oh god you were. But they didn't come true. He didn't show up. You stayed there all evening, drinking only a glass of wine and looking at the door every time someone came in. Staying one more second there alone and feeling the pityful stares of the waiters on your back was way too humiliating. The only thing that went through your mind that moment was to call your best friend and ask him to be your savior once more.

Kento was there ten minutes later. He was standing with his back pressed against his car, hands in the pockets of his black coat; the collar was up, hiding him from the piercing wind. Kento turned his head in your direction, hearing either the click of your heels on the sidewalk or the clatter of your teeth as you walked toward him in your thin dress, your head pressed into your shoulders, vainly hoping to keep warm. Your lips trembled slightly, holding back the sobs that threatened to come out. His heart clenched when he saw how small, fragile and distressed you looked then. He thought that if he touched you, you would shatter into a hundred little pieces. As you approached his tall figure, you threw yourself into his arms, pressing your head against his chest, having no strength to hold back any longer. His strong arms swiftly encased your waist, wrapping you in the fabrics of his coat to keep you warm.

“What happened y/n?”, he asked quietly, holding you closer to his chest. “Let’s get in the car, we can talk inside, I don’t want you to get cold”.

"Can we just stay like this for a few moments please?", you muttered, burying your nose deeper into his sweater.

Kento simply nodded, snuggling you even closer and kissing the top of your head. You remained silent for a few more minutes before he stated quietly, "You deserve so much better, you know".

The words came out so slowly, as if he was deciding to the last minute whether he should say all the things he longed to tell you.

"Your love will find you eventually, someone who'll cherish every single moment spent with you, who'll make you laugh by singing along to your favorite songs into your imaginary microphone".

You froze for a few seconds, not knowing how to react, before looking up and asking quietly, "Really?”. Your faces were inches from each other. The close proximity to you and your hot breath on his face were driving him crazy. His eyes ran frantically from your eyes to your lips, when he whispered a soft "really". It was almost ridiculous how gentle and delicate his movements were compared to his calloused hands, which so gently covered your cheek, wiping a trail of tears with his big thumb. And this soppy phrase from your favorite movie ran through his mind, "If you love, you have to say it right away, and loudly, or else this moment will pass". And it did seem to have passed, when he noticed how you avert your gaze with embarrassment. Kento cleared his throat, trying to swallow the lump of thousands of unsaid words, and with feigned confidence continued, "Let's take you home, darling. Get in, you’re freezing." He gently released you from his embrace, opening the car’s door. The drive home was unbearably long for the two of you. For you because you didn’t even know what you truly felt at that time, maybe you were just too overwhelmed to think straight. For him because he couldn't find the strength to make a move, and he thought he had ruined everything.

You’d lie if you say you never thought about him in a romantic kinda way. But you were somehow sure that he wouldn’t reciprocate. So you just resigned yourself to the idea that he was just your best friend. It was better than losing everything in one moment by making the wrong move anyways. This how that evening ended: with you being deep in your thoughts, when you thanked him for everything and headed towards apartment; and him cursing under his breath and pressing his forehead against the steering wheel.

A couple of months passed since that very evening. You both tried to keep it cool like the grown-ups you both were. If pretending that everything’s alright was a competition, you guys’d take the first place. You had been weighing the pros and cons for a long time, trying to figure out if it was worth bringing up the past and going back to that conversation. But you decided to go with the flow. And you just went on as if nothing had happened: spending time with each other, going groceries, etc, etc. Everything was the same as always. Or so it seemed. Kento started leaving a little earlier than usual. And you started skipping your dinners together now and then, dreading the awkward pauses.

That’s how you find yourself in this very situation – in the middle of the dancefloor with Satoru Gojo himself. Yes, Kento Nanami is perfect in every aspect, he is, indeed. But there's one thing Kento has never been good at – partying. He would have preferred to stay home and spend the evening in his quiet apartment, without blasting music and cheap liquor. You though haven’t had fun for as it feels like years. You don’t exactly remember how you end up on the dancefloor, dancing for your dear life with Satoru by your side. But what you do remember is a very suspicious amount of shots you both have drunk.

Your choice fell on Satoru because he's the only who definitely has some moves to show to others. He knows he's an expert at partying, and you'd rather not argue.

You can no longer feel your legs after he has you dancing in the middle of the crowd. Hoping to take a break and order another cocktail, you head to the bar. The white-haired guy follows at your heels, picking you up by the elbow just in time when you tangle in your legs and your face gets dangerously close to the floor.

“I'm fine”, you smile drunkenly, taking your seat on the high bar stool, “but thank you, you’re indeed very quick”. You pat him on the shoulder, while ordering a drink in the meantime.

Satoru gestures to the waiter that he’d better not serve you any more drinks.

“Hey, I thought we were here to relax”. You tug on his arm, “Just one more cocktail won’t hurt”.

“I think you've had enough for tonight, Miss I-Conquer-Any-Party. You've outdone yourself that's for sure; it's time for you to go home, sweets.” He says the words very slowly, obviously overpowering himself so he doesn't seem so drunk.

“Satoooru”, you're deliberately elongating the "o" sound; “you do realize that sending me home alone in this state is just reckless, don’t you.” You giggle, leaving no doubt that you're telling the absolute truth. “And if the two of us go, you won't be any more helpful than I am alone”.

He raises his index finger to object, but then gives up.

“That's why I called your second favorite – Nanami; he'll meet you downstairs and take you home.”

“Bold of you to assume that you’re my first favorite”, you remark sarcastically.

“Bold of you to argue with that”, he retorts, smirking at you.

“Whatever, you’re not coming with us?” you raise your eyebrow questioningly.

“I still have a few unfinished things to do here”, he smiles lazily. “I don't think everyone has seen what I'm capable of yet.” He flicks his eyebrows playfully, making you laugh.

And as much as you'd like to see Satoru in action, even more you'd want to see Kento now. You'll find out about Gojo's antics from someone's tik-tok tomorrow morning anyway.

And just like that, you say goodbye to the blue-eyed guy and head to the exit, where Kento's car is already parked, waiting only for you.

“Helloooo”, you chant before plopping down next to him in the passenger seat. Thank you for getting me out of here, Nanamin," you spell it out, smiling slyly, already anticipating his reaction.

“Don't call me that”, he smiles, “but hello to you, too.”

“Gotta remember that”, you laugh, “I'll add it to my notes.”

He smiles softly as he moves closer and fastens his seatbelt on you.

“Wow, a real princess treatment”, you giggle, mesmerized as you watch the deft movements of his hands.

“That's right, princess treatment for a true princess”, he sits up straight and drives off, not giving you a chance to notice the blush on his cheeks.

“You're so nice...“ you begin softly, "very, very, very nice. And caring. And kind. And... I don't know you always help me out. Why is that?” You tilt your head, looking at his face.

He hesitates for a few moments before answering quietly. “Because I'm your best friend?”, he stops outside your house, and finally finds the strength to meet your gaze again.

“The best”, you whisper, “and also extremely handsome.” You reach out to him and gently caress his cheek. “Damn, you’re so handsome. Why didn't I tell you this before?”

You look lovingly at his face while slowly stroking his cheekbone with your thumb, pausing only when his lips get all of your attention. You move closer, stopping just a second before your lips meet. He's trying to keep his composure and you're desperate, he's trying to stay sane and you're so drunk in love. You chase each other's lips before merging into a sweet kiss. He is gentle and slow. You are needy and putty, brought to the edge just by the feeling of his lips on yours. You taste like alcohol and desire; he tastes like mint and hope. His hand finally finds its place on the back of your neck bringing you closer, while the other gently caresses your side. You run your fingers through his hair winning a low groan slipping through his lips into your mouth. He fights the urge to mess everything up and keep kissing you as if his life depends on it. But he's a gentleman after all, so he does pull away, leaving you breathless and confused by his sudden change.

“What's wrong, Kento?” you ask him hesitantly. “I thought the feeling was mutual”, you furrow your brows, while moving a little farther away from him. “Or did I just make it up?”

“You did not”, he replies simply. “I just don't want to make it even more complicated than it already is,” he runs his hands gently over your cheek, and then tucks your hair behind your ear. “You probably won't even remember any of it by tomorrow, y/n”, he chuckles sadly.

"And what if I try my best? But I have to add it to my notes just to be sure," you grin before giving him one more kiss on the lips. And this time he won't pull away that fast. He's a gentleman but not a fool you know.

[satoruschapstic]

Is it too late for this young sinner to get baptized?

His scars were scattered across his body, yours were hidden deep inside. He was fiercely striving to die; you were desperately trying to live. He laughed at your naivety, you reproached his indifference. But you came together. Somewhere in the middle of the chaos you had created yourselves.

pairing: port mafia leader!osamu dazai x gn!reader

content: angst, hurt/comfort, mentions of suicide (c'mon it's dazai), mentions of guns, mentions of alcohol

a/n: wrote it for my precious @shamelessperfectionhideout as a reason to smile but we both ended up crying, i'm so sorry my love <3 also i'm extremely sorry for all the inaccuracies, i haven't read manga nor have i watched anime but i'm getting there! hope y'all enjoy <3

It felt so right. Every time your hand was in his, it felt so right. Like the stars that light up in the sky every night to illuminate the way. The moon and the stars knew you were in love. It was so right. It was so strange. It was like looking in a mirror, but the reflection is cracked, some shards missing. Your soulmate standing in front of you was shattered. You were so similar, yet so different. His scars were scattered across his body, yours were hidden deep inside. He was fiercely striving to die; you were desperately trying to live. He laughed at your naivety, you reproached his indifference. But you came together. Somewhere in the middle of the chaos you had created yourselves.

Every time you whispered a quiet "I love you," he was swept up in the desire to prolong his life, mentally crossing off a few new ways of killing himself. Every time you were hiding behind the bookshelves of one of the libraries, exploring the mysteries of the world, and stealing little kisses from each other, he found the meaning anew in his worthless life. Every time he was covering you from the rain with his long black trench coat, laughing like a child, while running across the road, flowers bloomed in your chest. Every time he kissed you senseless, you knew you couldn't tell him everything. And each time you made excuses for your weakness. You couldn't let him know the true you. Although, perhaps, only with him were you truly yourself.

Being the head of a special department in one of the mafia gangs was clearly not something you wanted to share with others, especially those so far out of the underworld. Osamu, too, had never revealed what specifically he was doing, because, in his opinion, you would have laughed at him. Yes, there were secrets between the two of you, but that lost any meaning when you looked into each other's eyes and reasoned about eternity. Only then, only in those moments, did you realize that this world wasn't so bad if he was in it. You hated the fact that your hands had blood up to your elbows and your eyes had seen such horrendous things that sometimes you wanted to rip them out of your eye sockets to make it all go dark at once. But when his fingers intertwined with yours and his soft lips touched your eyelids in the early morning hours, you loved to imagine that everything that had come before was a small grain of sand in the desert of your endless life, filled with tenderness and forgiveness, ease and hope. But all those dreams were swept away by the winds of anxiety and lies over which you ironically had absolute power.

Somewhere out there, outside the small apartment you shared, he was a small part of a bigger world, soaring up and crashing down, hoping that his last breath would happen here and now. But from the moment he met you, it seemed to him that he was finally standing firmly with his feet on the ground. The feelings he had around you made his heart beat faster, reminding him that he was alive, and then knocked the air out of his lungs as he watched you tuck a little daisy behind his ear.

Somewhere out there, outside the small apartment you shared, you were a part of the big game, blowing up whole buildings, sweeping up with hurricanes everything you could get your hands on. The air was always your element. You loved the feeling of flying, the wind in your hair, the whirlpools of tornadoes that rose over the water, the storms that put the lives of those at sea on the line. And you owned it all; you could wipe anyone from the face of Earth with an angry gust of wind just by lifting a finger. But from the moment you met Dazai, it seemed to you that you were in the constant act of falling, hovering only a few millimeters above the ground so as not to be smashed to pieces. The feelings you had around him lifted you to unprecedented heights, and then threw you sharply down when you saw the bandages covering a new section of his body.

But the mirror in which you both had been looking, seeing each other's reflections in it, shattered as the darkest parts of your lives saw the light. You were sitting in the office of the Port Mafia boss, surrounded by members of your gang, with your legs draped over the edge of a desk and your fingers tracing the spines of antique books. Things in the town were lousy, you had lost many important connections with partners, and now your adversaries in the Port Mafia were showing an undesirable interest in the territories that had been under your control from the very beginning. So for an hour, you waited for that boss that everyone in the area dreaded, lazily observing the crowd. You knew most of the Night Wardens, except for the infamous bandleader, who preferred to remain in the shadows. You weren't sure if these talks could be peaceful or bear any fruit, but you couldn't overcome your curiosity to see the Youngest Leader in the History of the Mafia with your own eyes.

Suddenly you heard a stirring, as everyone turned toward the doorway. You stretched your head to get a better look at the approaching figure. You frowned and then blinked a few times, as if you were trying to shake off a weird vision. It just couldn't possibly be real. A tall slim figure finally emerged from the shadows of the hallway. You swallowed hard. The bangs framed his face, while some were gathered at the center of his forehead. A couple of bandages covered his right eye and his right arm was in a sling. You couldn't have mistaken him for anyone else, no matter how much you wanted to.

"What the hell is she doing here?" his voice thundered. Dazai stopped in the middle of the room, casting a scornful glance at everyone present, his eyes never stopping on you.

"I asked the fucking question: what the hell is she doing here?" he reiterated, almost shouting, his cheekbones sharper than a knife as he clenched his teeth without getting a response once again. For the first time in your life, you heard his tone so harsh and his voice so loud. For the first time in your life, you were scared to death, bashfully removing your shaking legs from the table and sitting up straight. Yet you couldn't find the strength to look away from his face.

The next second, his tall figure approached you, grabbing your wrist and dragging you out of the office. You could barely follow him, stumbling as you went, clutching at everything you saw on your way, frantically trying to stay on your feet. You could hear the members of your gangs yelling as they watched your retreating figures, but before you could make out a single word, the door shut behind you with a rumbling thud. In an instant your back was pressed against the wall of the empty corridor, his hand a few inches from your face. He was hovering over you with his whole body, not giving you the faintest chance to slip away.

"What the hell is going on?" he hissed, lifting your head by the chin to look into your eyes for the first time so far. "What the hell are you doing here? How did you find me?"

"So you're that scary Port Mafia boss everyone's so afraid of, Osamu?" your eyes ran across his face, hoping to see at least a glimpse of the man you knew.

"What the fuck are you doing here? I'm not going to play these stupid games. I'm asking you one last time," his hand squeezed your chin a little harder, causing you to press against the wall even further.

"I'm here to solve the problem with the territory your fucking organization is trying to steal from us. And as head of a special department, I couldn't let these negotiations pass me by without getting to know firsthand the man who's pulling off such dastardly schemes. Turns out it was you who ran it all along, when you weren't in bed with me," you pushed him away from you with force, freeing yourself from his iron grip.

Dazai froze for a moment, absorbing everything you just said to him, his eyes glittering for a second the way they did when you shared your little secrets, lying under the starry sky, hiding in each other's warmth. But then they grew even colder than they had ever been when he grabbed you by the collar of your coat, almost lifting you off the ground.

"So you've been double-teaming this whole time, like a fucking brat," he spat, full of rage looking you straight in the eye, his cheeks bulged with anger.

"I haven't done anything I can't blame you for, either," you retorted, clawing at the fabric of his coat with your fingernails.

At that moment, there was a banging on the door, someone was yelling threats and insults, asking for you to return to your seat, or the scuffle would start right then and there. You both fell silent, turning toward the locked door. In the next second, Dazai unlocked his fingers, shoving you aside and, swinging the doors open with his foot, knocking several people down in the process, went to the exit of the building.

"Deal with it yourselves, I'm leaving," he barked before disappearing from sight.

Everyone in the room followed his figure with a bewildered look and then turned to face you. With the rest of your dignity clenched in your fists, you got up from the floor, shook off your clothes, and headed for the exit without saying a word.

Your paths never crossed again, and you didn't know where he was or what was happening to him all that time. Strangely enough, but it was indeed true that the port mafia retreated and no longer laid claim to your domain, and everything was resolved without argument or gunfight. And that was probably the most painful thing to realize that it was unequivocally his decision alone. You didn't seek meetings with him and tried desperately to erase him, but he wouldn't disappear in any way. You saw him in the faces of passersby, and every time you turned a corner, looking over your shoulder, you thought he was standing there.

Your paths never crossed, but sometimes you'd hear stories of new, particularly exquisite murders, and you'd realize that he'd been behind them. You couldn't believe that you might once have seen him as your soul mate, shared shelter and food, held his wound-riddled hand, found in him a reflection of yourself. It was funny to think about it now that you knew what was behind his wrecked exterior, and you realized that you were more alike than you'd ever imagined. It was terrifying.

Your paths had not crossed for a long time, but now they did. When the news about the boy whose head was being offered for seven billion Yen on the black market spread all over the town, it'd be foolish to believe that the executive of the most powerful mafia in town wouldn't want to get it for himself. And so you met on the doorstep of the dormitory, where the boy who was your common target was sleeping peacefully.

"I didn't expect to see you here," he walked slowly toward you, hiding his face in the raised collar of his coat.

"The whole town is aware of this deal, the stakes are high, so why shouldn't I be here?" you raised your head higher, showing with every ounce of your face that you're not going to back down.

"I didn't know they sent minions on missions like this," he grinned, shoving his hands in his pockets, "there have to be more professional people for that."

"Then what are you doing here?" you said, looking him up and down.

"Get out of my way," he pointed his fingers to the side, "I have no desire to waste time with useless talk, back off or I'll make you."

"Try," you chuckled, motioning your hand, and in that second, everything dimmed, the sky darkened, and two small tornadoes formed beside you, waiting to consume everything around.

Dazai's eyes widened, as the wind whipped across his face, tangling his hair and limiting his ability to see. "Impressive, would you scatter in the wind the only person who got into bed with you?"

"Why are you so bitter all of a sudden, don't you like it when someone else can have secrets besides you?" you raised an eyebrow, casting more streams of air over him.

His coat fluttered in the wind, forming the semblance of black raven wings behind his back. Dazai only pushed his feet even harder into the ground, leaning forward, his whole body resisting shifting.

"I had no fucking secrets, I wanted to keep you safe from the horror that surrounded me," he was now bursting into a scream in an attempt to shout down the wind. "And you brazenly lied to me, pretending to be just a nice little girl who wanted to save another poor boy. Only I'm not the poor boy. I don't need your fucking salvation."

"Osamu, I..." you tried to discern his face in the endless stream of sand and dust, swirling into more tornadoes, now surrounding you in a semicircle.

"You were the only person I could go to and foolishly trust to have you turn out to be a stalker, watching my every move. I must admit it was a smart move, I underestimated your organization, but they should have chosen someone less naïve and weak," he spat sarcastic remarks, trying to soothe that aching pain in his heart, hoping in his mind that it was from it that he would die here and now, and this time forever.

"I didn't follow you, for fuck's sake," tears streamed down your cheeks, "I knew nothing about you except that you were a nice and wounded little guy. A guy I felt happy to be with. I loved you sincerely, I would never do that to you," you screamed, dropping your hands and stopping the spinning of the air. Everything around you froze: pieces of torn fabric, packages, tree branches, stones left from destroyed buildings slowly floated in place, only to collapse with a deafening crash to the ground a second later, raising a column of dust in the air. That was enough for Dazai to be next to you in a moment, grabbing your hand and pulling you to him with force.

"Let me go," you whispered, vainly trying to pull away, "I don't want to hurt you, don't make me, please."

"You know that one touch from me is enough to neutralize your ability, they told you that, didn't they?" his face twisted into a grimace of morbid pleasure. Seeing your eyes widen, he laughed, "Did they forget such an important detail about me? It seems I was right about your organization, a bunch of garbage that should be chased out of our town.

You didn't know what to answer, because you simply didn't know what you were going for when you drove here without the rest knowing.

"Now come with me," he gripped your hand a little tighter, "and I will kill that boy in front of you in the most ingenious way so that you can tell your bosses about it in detail later, when you are in a hurry to pack your gear to flee town before I come for your heads."

"You will not hurt this child, Osamu. No one is going to do him any harm," you stared confidently into his dark eyes, gleaming under the light of the lone moon.

"What are you talking about? Are you out of your mind?" his eyebrows knitted into a thin line, "there's more money for this boy's head than you could ever imagine, and all that money will be mine." He dragged you toward the entrance to the dormitory, holding you firmly by your forearm.

"Wait, just hold on a minute, listen to me," you grabbed the hem of his coat in an attempt to stop him. "You're right, I really was playing a double game, I really was a fucking spy," you exhaled, trying to get more air in your lungs so that you could tell him everything before he would blatantly interrupt you. "I pretended to be a different person, but I never did it around you."

Dazai paused, looking at you with a baffled expression, his lips parted slightly in attempt to utter something, but almost immediately he shut himself up, giving you a chance to continue.

"I was spying. But not on you. All this time I was working for the agency, I was supposed to join the ranks of this group and break it down from within. Getting rid of them, one by one or all at once, it didn't really matter. All this time they were my main task, not you, Osamu, please believe me.

Dazai, who hadn't expected such a revelation, remained dazedly silent as his eyes darted from your face to the sign behind your back that said The Armed Detective Agency dormitory. His eyebrows rose, returning the boyish look to his face. Thoughts jumbled in his head wondering how he could have fucked up like that. Surely you were too good for someone who could get involved with the goddamn mafia. He blamed himself for such a slip and for just being able to have that kind of thought about you. He regretted that he had never been able to drown himself that day when he saw you in his office: frightened but so driven. A heavier stone and the bottom of the sea, hidden in the darkness of the stormy waters, that's what he really deserved.

"Osamu, I know that deep down you're not like that at all. You're just a lost man who has failed to make sense of right and wrong, a man who deserves the best but always chooses the worst for himself," you gently reached out to him, tentatively placing your hand on his cheek, gently running your finger along his bandage. "We can make the only right decision now and let the kid live. You know your heart is not so evil, Osamu. Stay with me, join the agency, we can be together, we can right the wrongs of the past."

The rising wind, as if by your hand, gently brushed the fallen strands from his face, exposing his eyes that shimmered like two small agates. He flattered at your gentle touch, remembering what it was like to be loved so tenderly and delicately. Your words echoed in his head, intertwined with the last words Oda said before he died in his arms. Maybe he really should have tried to live right. Perhaps he really should have tasted life filled with your presence and the right thoughts. But...

He pulled away from you abruptly, brushing your hand aside, "How can I possibly trust you when all you do is lie. You lied to me, you lie to all the members of your motherfucking organization, you lie to yourself when you wake up every fucking morning. Your whole life is a lie. Our whole life has been a deception."

"There will be no more secrets between us, I promise, if you come with me, I will never keep anything from you again. Just trust me...like the first time when you allowed me to bandage your shredded wrists. I'll be there to mend all your wounds. I promise... I still love you, Osamu."

He shuddered at the mere mention of his name, and how gentle it sounded coming from your lips. He recoiled, unable to look you in the eye anymore. His lips formed a thin line, his hands dropped down.

"Do what you have to Y/N. Protect this child. Not me," he turned around and strode hurriedly away, wrapping himself in the coat, trying to find at least a drop of warmth on this windy night. And he never looked back.

You shouted his name watching his fading figure, and raised your hand to try and stop him, but almost immediately lowered it, unable to hurt him more than you already had. The merciless wind rippled your open coat, sending a bunch of goosebumps down your back. But that was not the reason you were cold whatsoever.

Two years have passed since the night his dark figure vanished into the arms of the night. You heard that no one else had seen him in town after that. Only occasionally you heard rumors from other distant corners of the country that he had been spotted in bars, where he ordered the same drink every time, and, drunk as a skunk, left the place and the town. You wondered if it was your own kind of credit that he left the port mafia, or if he just couldn't stomach the idea of even being in the same town as you. Either way, it seemed to you that you could never find solace in walking in the places where you had learned to live together without depending on the world. You spent two years continuing to work for the agency, fighting for what you used to think was good and true. Not forgetting his face even for a moment.

It was one morning when, gathered in the conference room, you and the other detectives were noisily discussing what action should be taken against the Port Mafia, which was once again rampaging, when you were interrupted by the sound of President Fukuzawa's hoarse voice.

"I know you're very much in the middle of something, but I want to introduce you to a new member of our agency," he said firmly, stepping aside to reveal a figure leaning against the door jamb. He wore a long sand-colored trench coat, the belt of which was untied, he had bandages wrapped around his entire body; everything about him was the same only that his face was left uncovered.

You rose from your seat, open-mouthed, unable to believe your eyes. His brown eyes looked only at you, and then he smiled with the corners of his lips, winking at you before he muttered a quiet, "Hello, little spy".

reblogs and comments are very much appreciated! <3

[satoruschapstic]

YES I'M CRYING COME BACK U MF

[satoruschapstic]

i just want to be loved by kento and be the reason he smiles everyday. i wanna kiss his eyes when he closes them before drifting off to sleep. i want to press my cheek against his chest and listen to the beating of his heart. i wanna know that he's safe and sound. and alive.

[satoruschapstic]

🧩 masterlist 🧩

♡ ̟ ˙ ⊹ ☆JUJUTSU KAISEN꒰⑅ᐢ ᵕ ᵕ ᐢ⑅꒱

satoru gojo ⤵

🔮 the memories you make with me

🔮 i know i'm home

🔮 i'm nightcrawling to you

kento nanami ⤵

🔮 add it to my notes ♡

🔮 i went to war with myself, for you

suguru geto ⤵

🔮 a fall to oblivion

♡ ̟ ˙ ⊹ ☆ TOKYO REVENGERS꒰⑅ᐢ ᵕ ᵕ ᐢ⑅꒱

manjiro sano ⤵

🔪 feel real

rindou haitani ⤵

🔪 apartment

ran haitani ⤵

🔪 runaway

shinichiro sano ⤵

🔪 blood & cigarettes

♡ ̟ ˙ ⊹ ☆ HEADCANONS꒰⑅ᐢ ᵕ ᵕ ᐢ⑅꒱

🕴️ WHAT THEY SLEEP IN HEADCANONS

♡ ̟ ˙ ⊹ ☆ BUNGOU STRAY DOGS ꒰⑅ᐢ ᵕ ᵕ ᐢ⑅꒱

osamu dazai ⤵

🕵️ is it too late for this young sinner to get baptized?

[satoruschapstic]

📝julie/she/her/24 y.o (sideblog aka my personal diary / main is @nanamikentoseyebags)

[satoruschapstic]

👨‍⚖️some rules ૮₍ ˶ᵕ ᵕ˶₎ა

things i don’t write for: any kind of violence, yandere, gore scenes,stepcest, lactation kink, breeding kink, incest, bdsm, gonna add something in the process (for now I don't feel comfortable writing smut at all)

request status: CLOSED

fandoms i write for: jjk, tokyorev, bsd

things you can request: full length fics, head canons, drabbles, which include fluff, angst, hurt/comfort

i do take requests for headcanon prompts (only sfw), drabbles, etc, etc., share your plot ideas in my inbox <3

pls be patient with me if it takes too long for me to write your request, i'm a uni student and i'm trying to study at times lol &lt;3

i do not have a post schedule, so i just write occasionally

let me know if you want to be added to a taglist!

here is my masterlist <3