#you know what was never talked about with some of the kids… nanamis death?? like maki. nobara. megumi and yuji.

[ofovertime]

.

[bakugoushotwife]

no, please don’t kill me mr. ghostface, i wanna be in the sequel!

>>> you didn’t think you were making it out of kinktober without a visit from ghostface, did you? all cute and sweet pieces, blegh. it's time to play...happy halloween—don’t hang up on me you bitch!

>>> cw: PLEASE READ WITH CAUTION. NO MINORS. dark content ahead. inspired by scream 1996. murder, blood, gore, stalking, yandere!characters, ghostface!characters, manipulation, major character death, alternate no curses!reality, physical harm to reader, manhandling, knifeplay, costumed sex, prone bone, dub con, non con just in case tbh, biting, choking spanking, face-slap, degradation (whore, slut, bitch, etc), praise, breeding, doggy, blood consumption, mating press, throat fucking, edging, double penetration, fingering/knife-fucking (?) (f!receiving) anal. threesome mfm/mmf, breeding. let me know if i missed anything. >>> wc: 15.8k >>> event masterlist: >>> playlist

you were starting to get majorly freaked out. the past year or so had been the worst of your life. your college professor was murdered last fall—sending the small town into a frenzy. some people were mortified. how could someone so brutal be lurking in the shadows of this cheery town? they stopped walking to school and carpooled instead, kids no longer played in the yards, and women rarely went out unaccompanied. some people thought it was funny—something interesting to talk about after years of mundane crimes barely making the news.

you were feeling something much more complex than just fear or interest; you were battling grief. grief that no one else even knew about, adding to the complexity of your feelings. toji was just your business professor—one that you paid frequent visits to on and off campus. you did a good job of covering your tracks, coming up with lie after lie to keep your friends well distracted from your taboo hook-ups with the community’s favorite teacher. they would bully you to tears if they knew you gave your virginity to dr. fushiguro—and between satoru and suguru’s relentless teasing, you would never know peace again. 

plus, it’s nearly been a year, and you were nothing more than the other woman, a young girl that caught his attention over the monotony of marriage. it wasn’t going anywhere, and you knew that. in a way, the emotions you grappled with weren’t grief at all—but guilt. toji had young children—what you did was wrong. you felt that way when he was alive and you were actively doing it—but something about him pulled you in. maybe it was your own naivety that was to blame for believing him when he promised you he would leave his wife for you–all just to get you to put out again and put off your friends. maybe it was the subconscious belief that he was the best you would get, the best you deserved. your parents were hardly winning any awards for their methods, and the only other men in your life have been around you since high school, the aforementioned relentless teasers: satoru gojo and suguru geto. 

you like to think that you put it all behind you, but you can’t stop this creeping feeling that toji fushiguro was murdered because of you. 

and that wasn’t the end of the weird happenings. your lab partner—kento nanami unceremoniously dropped out this month, so the rumors around campus say, but you have a bad feeling about it. you’ve been calling him for days with no response, he has no after school work presence, and his best friend looks like he’s seen a ghost anytime you’re around. it was all the school was talking about, especially approaching the anniversary of dr. fushiguro’s death. 

“i say he was murdered, just like the professor. we have a real serial killer on our hands, ladies and gents!” ieiri shoko—a haphazard extension of your friend group—wiggles her brows, reclined back on her hands to survey the rest of you as she puffs her cigarette. 

gojo rolls his eyes, giving the speaker an unimpressed look. “i think they gotta tick a few more boxes before it’s a serial killer, no? only two murders, and so far apart?” he shakes his head to discount the theory. he makes a good point, perhaps it was just a creepy coincidence after all. there’s no reason to freak yourself out over nothing.  

“yeah? well i think it’s connected too.” iori says from her spot on the ground, her head laying in your lap as you braid and unbraid her hair, just keeping your brain occupied on something other than the death that seems to follow you. 

“yeah? and that’s why you don’t get paid for thinkin’.” gojo snickers, utahime’s annoyed attempt to swat at him blocked by suguru’s body, the two of them sitting behind you at the picnic tables out in the open sun. it made you feel a little safer, surrounded by friends and in a place where you could keep an eye out. you trust gojo and geto to watch your back.

satoru continues to giggle on about it until shoko interrupts, taking her cigarette out of her mouth and pointing gojo down with it. “what if they just pick one of us every year–some kind of halloween sacrifice?” she posits, and your eyes widen. the boys exchange a look, and suguru’s voice of reason cuts in. 

“let’s leave the detective work to the police, yeah? i’m sure sheriff zen’in wants to solve his nephews murder.” he leans back against the table while gojo balances his weight with his elbows on his knees. 

“yeah right. the sheriff couldn’t give a damn. ” you scoff, biting your tongue at the fact you spoke on the subject at all, but especially something so vague—implying you know more about toji than the normal student, and your cautious friends are also perceptive, you fear. 

“what’s that s’pposed to mean? our loyal piggy doesn’t wanna protect the community?” gojo leans forward on his knees, bringing his face closer to yours. he’s studying you—every nervous shift of your eyes, the seconds you let pass before you answer, everything, and you know it. 

“of…course he does. i only meant—” 

“pshhh, everyone knows those zen’in families are weird.” utahime swings in to save you—feeling the way your body tenses under your best friends interrogating stare “why d’you think his last name is fushiguro instead, hm? probably left the family to be a better person—how dreamy of him.” she sighs wistfully, having been another one of the many girls that would have killed to be in your place. “and that old bastard probably doesn’t care. he probably did it himself, knowing how corrupt–”

“smoking on campus, are we, students?” headmaster yaga walks up to send the conversation to a screeching halt. shoko quickly snuffs out her butt on her boot, crumpling the evidence in her hand as the man comes closer. suguru’s never quite cared about the opinions of his elders, and he won’t start now. he keeps slowly dragging his—making eye contact with the headmaster as he comes to a stop before your group in the grass. “geto. you mind?”

he arches his brow in annoyance, sticking out his tongue to burn the ash on. gojo giggles. “what an anarchist!” he cheers jovially, nudging his friend with his elbow. “we didn’t see any no smoking signs sir, swear.” 

suguru cracks a lazy grin at the defense, looking at yaga patiently. “i’m sure you’ve heard the news about your fellow classmate.” he starts, and utahime sits up properly to question him more specifically. 

“that he dropped out? yeah–we heard that days ago.” she confronts with furrowed brows. you can tell by the clench of yaga’s jaw that there’s more news. your heart sinks to your stomach, that bad feeling you had making an ugly return with the shifting of yaga’s stance. 

“what–did they find him?!” you push yourself up to stand, heart pounding in your ears. if kento was dead, was it your fault too somehow? 

yaga turns to you with a sad and curt nod. “they did. he was…strung up outside of his house–brutally murdered. his parents found him. all we know so far is that he was on the phone when he died. his mother heard him.”

you cover your mouth with shaky hands. how awful, to hear your own son gargle his last breaths? what a horrible way to go, you can’t believe your stoic and stern lab partner was no more, meeting a fate so horrible you wouldn’t wish it on your worst enemies. 

“how awful…his poor family.” iori shakes her head, too stunned to speak further. shoko replaces her cigarette with a fresh lollipop, lost in her own head; no doubt contemplating the morbid horror film most closely resembling the current situation—she has a fixation with death.

“there will be a memorial fundraiser to help his family with the funeral costs.” yaga nods, arms folded over his chest. he was clearly at a loss for words, though what could one even really say? he settled for, “be wary, kids. the sheriff’s department will be issuing a curfew. please be safe.” 

iori nods as the headmaster walks away—turning back to look at everyone. you hug yourself, feeling a chill in the air that only reminds you of what time of year it is—halloween. you’re still lost in thought, wondering what toji and nanami could have possibly had in common outside of knowing you and being at this school. what motive could be, who was next. 

satoru and suguru exchange a look. they can see how wound up you are, noting that you seemed to know that something had happened to nanami before you were told. shoko breaks the silence first.

“this is just like scream, you know? spooky phone calls and brutal killings—says here that he was gutted and suspended from a tree.”  she shakes her head, reading the pixelated news article from her nokia screen—grossed out and intrigued at the same time. 

iori gasps, “that’s awful—don’t compare his death to a movie, ieiri!” she scolds, noticing you off in la la land. “earth to y/n…hellooooo? i hope this isn’t a scary movie because you are so dying first.” she snarks, and gojo arches his brows and grins mischievously at the sentiment. he gets to his feet, creeping up behind you–jerking you by the shoulders and gasping just to scare you. 

you scream and jump back—punching him in the chest. “you jerk!’ you huff as he covers his stomach with laughter, stumbling back into his bench seat. suguru gives you an apologetic smile, standing and offering you his hand. 

“c’mon, let me walk you home.” he tilts his head towards the path you take. gojo jumps up too. 

“i’ll come with! make up for my prank?” he pouts, resting his chin on your shoulder. his icy blue gaze stays trained on you until you finally give in and look at him, making a bright grin spread across his face. 

shoko huffs, “you’re an insensitive asshat—i’m sure you’re not taking this seriously because you always picked on kento. i wonder if the piggies know that!” 

“he was a nerd—that’s all!” he scoffs with an eye roll, “oh yeah, so now i killed the guy, huh?” he furrows his brows, insulted by shoko’s insinuation that he could stoop so low. 

“no one said that, satoru.” suguru claps his free hand down on the other’s shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “let’s all relax. i know this is scary, so make sure we walk in partners, at least.” 

utahime gags and rolls her eyes at the dramatics, stretching out before getting to her feet. you look to her, thinking you should make sure your fellow woman makes it to her dorm, but suguru’s voice cuts through your thoughts again.

“we just want to make sure you get home safely with all of this going on, you look…worried.” suguru comments, stretching his palm out to remind you that his hand was extended for you. your heart warms at his kindness. he’s always been a gentle giant–especially compared to satoru; who has his own charms to him like his sense of humor and his striking good looks. he takes care of you in his own ways—but suguru’s always been more traditional. you place your hand in his, smiling thankfully. he turns to the other girls, but yu haibara is already escorting them the other way, careful to avoid you entirely. your shoulders slump at the idea that he blames you for nanami’s death. 

gojo slings an arm around your shoulders and they steer you towards your off campus rental. it’s a little two bedroom one bath—no satoru mansion, but it does the trick. you’re rarely there anyways, bouncing between your friends’ residences for the “dates” you all go on—though ieiri and iori aren’t typically included. 

“so this stuff’s really got you messed up in the noodle, huh?” satoru asks, exchanging careful glances with his opposite. you hum so he knows you heard him, settling into the rhythm they were walking for you. you don’t know if it’s the question or the crisp autumn air that makes you shiver—maybe it’s the way they both watch you so intensely, though the longer you think about it the more you realize they’ve kinda always been like that, letting their eyes stay on you too long, analyzing your features to decipher how you really feel. you can’t hide a thing from them. you can only buy yourself time. 

“yeah. i guess so.” you settle on, tucking your cheek into your shoulder. you knew they would ask for more specifics, all in the due process of taking care of you. 

“were you even close to that nanami guy?” suguru follows up, brows raised in curiosity. you know this trap. it was a miracle you’ve ever been able to keep toji a secret. they’ve always taken a special interest in your love life—they’re protective over you, and wanted to vet any potential match for you. but the boys you met in high school were easily scared off by the strong and intimidating friends of yours, so you figured college wouldn’t be much different. hence why you didn’t try—taking toji’s affection like a gift that fell into your lap. 

“he was my lab partner, so we’ve done a few projects together. he seemed like a nice guy, never crossed any lines. responsible. the sort.” you shrug again, not wanting to seem too invested. “i guess it’s just…weird. he was here one day and now he’s not, and killed so brutally…it doesn’t feel real.” you explain, and suguru seems to reflect on the words. 

“people die all the time, sugar. maybe he got caught up in something he shouldn’t’ve, maybe wrong place wrong time, or maybe he was eyeing something that didn’t belong to him. who knows. no use troubling yourself over it.” gojo shrugs, sliding his hand up to pat the back of your head. 

“that’s easy for you men to say! if some serial killer came after you, you could fight ‘em off. i have no chance if he was…to pick me next.” you retort, trying to make them see why you were so amped up about it. 

“what makes you think that he would pick you next?” suguru furrows his brows, but gojo just tilts his head side to side to mull it over. 

“nanami was a man, right? i wonder why he died.” he thinks aloud, shrugging. you snap your head towards him to chastise him for such a statement, but suguru clears his throat. 

“you have nothing to worry about, right? like satoru said earlier. these are isolated incidents, and they’ve only gone after men so far. chin up, angel.” he insists as you three walk up the steps to your house. 

you take a deep but shaky breath, nodding. suguru was right. the only victims have been men. toji’s death and subsequently nanami’s had nothing to do with each other. it was just your guilt gnawing at you. if you didn’t get yourself together, your perceptive bodyguards would pick up on the fact that you were hiding something from them. “thank you. i…needed to hear that.” you nod in satisfaction. 

“i’ll call you later, just to make sure you’re still..doing alright.” he assures, patting your hand before he drops it. gojo squeezes you into him, ruffling your hair. 

“don’t worry, cutie. we’ll see you tomorrow!! dream of me!” he calls out as their figures retreat.

once the door shuts behind you, you sigh out a breath of relief. 

you get some homework and laundry done in the few hours you have before bed. it’s a regular routine, but that’s why you found peace in it. you make yourself some dinner and cozy up on the couch, flipping through the channels to find something to make some noise outside of your loud brain. nanami’s picture makes you pause on the news, the reporter droning on about the case. according to phone records from that night, someone called his house six times, calls various in length from where kento was allegedly hanging up and trying to ignore the killer. 

“it seems the young man was stalked from outside his home for the entire night—making a valiant effort to run according to forensics before he eventually succumbed to his injuries. the case is ongoing, and due to the nature of the crime, sheriff zen’in has ordered a curfew of 8pm, beginning friday.” 

you’re reeling at the report, stunned beyond belief. it’s hard for you to even envision something so horrible. he must have been so scared. when your home phone rings—you’re jumping out of your skin–scambling up the couch with a scream. you stare at the receiver on the little side table next to you, fear nipping up your spine. that reporter said that nanami had been called repeatedly the night of his death—but suguru also promised to call. you decide to take the chance, satoru lives close enough that you could call him for help if it was this mysterious serial killer instead of one of your best friends on the other line—plus, nanami’s slaughter showed that ignoring the call wouldn’t help a thing. 

you reach out a shaky hand, feeling your throat go dry and tight as your sweaty palm grabs the receiver. like it makes a difference, you quickly put it up to your ear, looking around frantically. you never realized how many windows your house has, and now it feels like you’re naked for the world to see. “hello?”

“hey, angel.” suguru’s luxurious voice calms your nerves instantly, like throwing water on a fire. you relax back into the cushions, sighing audibly. 

“h-hey.” you card your fingers through your hair in attempt to rid yourself of any lingering anxiety. 

“i take it you aren’t feeling better about the whole ordeal then?” he sighs with you, gnawing on his bottom lip a little. you were troublesome for his own nerves. 

you play with the spiral cord connecting the receiver to the landline. “i was, i swear! then i saw the news and they were warning about phones like yaga did earlier and then–”

“your phone rang. sorry about my timing then, sweetheart. did you eat?” he interrupts, but his concern makes you tingle with warmth. they may be overbearing at times, but it’s so clear how much they care about you. 

“mhm. i have some leftovers though, if you’re still hungry. i could…use some company?” you weakly excuse, slightly embarrassed to basically beg for his protection; but the truth was that you knew you wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight unless you had some comfort. 

he chuckles softly and smiles into the phone when he agrees. “of course. i’ll be right over. give me ten minutes—i’ll bring slushies.” he hums enticingly, and you give him a choked up chuckle of relief. he would protect you through the night–and make sure that you had a good time, too.

“kk, sounds good. i want the cherry one!” you tell him like he doesn’t already know everything about your preferences. 

“i know you want the cherry—i’m not a psychopath.” he chuckles with you, his car’s engine humming to life in the background. “i’ll see you soon angel. hang tight.” the line goes dead, but you’re no longer filled with a sense of dread, even if you were still nervous about the murderer on the loose. 

while you wait on suguru, you do some more channel surfing. you wonder what satoru’s up to tonight and if he’ll be peeved that he wasn’t invited to hang out. who are you kidding, of course he’ll be jealous. you reach over for the phone to call him—even with suguru’s headstart he would probably still beat him here if you got to him now. the high pitched ringing of the phone sounds off again just as your hand wraps around it, making you jump just slightly—it caught you off guard, is all. it’s probably suguru calling to tell you that 7/11 is out of cherry—they’re always out of cherry. annoyed, you put the receiver to your ear. 

“ugh, don’t tell me—”

“hello y/n.” the slightly garbled deep voice says. you don’t recognize it–and your heart drops to your stomach. this, this is who’s been murdering people, this is him. this is who they warned you about—why suguru is sneaking out to come see you through the night–suguru. you have to buy enough time for him to get here, if nothing else. 

“who are you?” you ask, trying to give your voice some bravado. you start searching the windows again, the eerie sensation that you aren’t alone was making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. goddamn you need to invest in a dog. 

“blegh–boring question. i want to know who you are, precious y/n.” the voice states, male in nature, but you can’t distinguish anything past that. your heart races at the avoidance. 

“you know my name, and my phone number. seems to me you know who i am.” you clench your jaw together to keep your teeth from chattering, willing yourself to be intimidating. the voice on the other end cackles in amusement. 

“you’re funny y/n. i mean the real you, silly girl! let’s play a game. for every question you get right, the longer i’ll let you live. every question you get wrong…one of your friends… dies!” he seems very entertained with himself over the threats, making the fear bubble up over your heart. 

“m-my boyfriend is on the way! he’s really big and he’ll beat your ass–” 

“and he’ll be the first one dead! question numero uno, and we’re starting easy!! oh, don’t cry now! you can do it, c’mon, iori and ieiri need you right? those are your girlfriends–and that’s not the first question!” he titters again, but his name drops make your rapidly beating heart still in your chest. “how far away is your little boyfriend?”

your chest heaves, the stranger’s wish for you not to cry was wasted. he knows everything–all your friends names—maybe the fact you hadn’t called satoru tonight was the only thing keeping him safe. you wonder how long this stalker must have been following you, listening to you. you wonder if he killed toji too—and why. 

“l-like…six minutes, or so. I-i don’t know!” you cry out, clutching the receiver. you think about the consequences of hanging up—maybe that is what angered him into killing nanami. you better stay on the line. 

“good girl. see? not that hard! just keep using that noggin’ of yours!” he encourages, breathing heavily into his side of the phone. 

you nod, sure he can see you anyway. you shrink into the couch as if it will swallow you whole and keep you safe, but the feeling of comfort is short-lived. 

“why was toji fushiguro murdered??” 

you blanche. he is responsible. this is…all your fault after all. your worst fears are coming true right in front of you, and suguru cannot get here fast enough to stop it. 

“i…i don’t know! i didn’t do it!” you put your hand over your other ear, trying to ball up and make this all go away. 

“wrong answerrrr. you’ll find out soon that i’m not bluffing, sugar. let’s try again. why was toji fushiguro butchered?”

how does he know? toji must have told people. that’s the only logical explanation—you know that you haven’t spoken of it to a soul. this man knew, and killed him for it? was he related to toji’s wife, here for revenge? where did kento fit into this—is it really all about you?

you can hardly hear yourself respond over your heartbeat echoing in your ears, pumping your blood in a rush. “i..i dunno!! because i slept with him!?” 

“ding ding ding! i knew you were a smart girl. but you do know that makes you a little slut, right? do you know that means you killed him, sugar!” he hisses the last part, as if personally hurt by the notion. 

“i..it was wrong–yes–but i..i–” you try to explain, but realize the stranger has no reason to allow it. he’s here to punish you, and you have to either accept this lying down, or try to put up some kind of fight. 

“is that two wrong answers? you’ll sentence your best friends to death over your pride, slut? how disappointing.” 

“no, no–i am!” you clench your eyes shut, finding it easy to beg for their lives. if this caller was to be believed, then you already knew he wasn’t bluffing. 

“you’re what? hmmm y/n?” his voice gets louder, like he’s closer to the device. 

“i’m a…slut!” your cheeks burn, you shift uncomfortably on the couch as you wait for the stranger to reply. “please sir.” 

“last question–speed round. what door am i at? your front door…or your porch?” 

thoughts stop and instinct takes over, causing you to drop the phone and run to your porch–a sliding glass door with flimsy locks. you turn on all the lights, hoping to ward off whatever evil lurked in the night hunting you. you click all the locks in place, sprinting now towards your front door, which stood open already. 

“no..” you say aloud, voice a broken whisper of realization. he was already in your house. maybe he had been the whole time, you don’t know anything anymore. all you can think about was suguru’s arrival—hoping you could last for a few minutes longer. you spin around, deciding to venture back the way you came. it was already cleared, he couldn’t have slipped behind—a gloved hand covers your mouth—leather thick enough to smother, and you throw your elbow back as hard as you can, stunning the captor into letting your face go. with a hurried gasp, you’re sprinting for your life. you run to your porch door, grappling with the lock that you just secured. you keep looking over your shoulder, waiting for the figure to reemerge, shaking the lock with all your might. you hear the footsteps, looking over your shoulder to see a tall monstrosity—cloaked in ghostface’s attire. you scream out and throw the door open. shutting it on him before he had the chance to grab you again. 

your heart is racing and you aren’t sure where to go next, attempting to clear your fence to get to the main yard of your house, maybe you could get to suguru first. the killer is faster though, both in mind and in body. he grabs your ankle before you can get all the way over, yanking you back to his domain. you scream for help, but there’s no one around to hear you. 

“my boyfriend—he’s scary, please mister!” you fight, kicking and thrashing to get all the openings to escape that you could. “let me go!” you throw your legs, connecting with his stomach. he reflexively clutched it in pain, giving you a window to scramble back to your feet and back into your house through the porch door you escaped from. locking it would be a waste, you just start throwing down whatever you could get your hands on to make an obstacle course for the masked man. you assume the cheap costume doesn’t have the best visibility, and you hope to use that to your advantage. 

you sprint for the front door, hearing the grunting and frustrated groans of the man chasing you. you blink through your panicked tears, grasping at straws for what to do next. it’s then that you hear the gravel of your driveway crunch under what could only be tires—and who could only be suguru. you shove your couch in between you and the killer, flailing yourself down your front steps and into the yard, sobbing and out of breath, scrapes and scratches showing the evidence of the chase. 

suguru is out of his car in an instant, by your side even quicker. he seems to put two and two together at the sight of you, running into the house just in time to see the ghostface impersonator sneak out of your living room window, fading into the distance. you can’t let suguru go very far, terrified beyond measure as you glue to his side and cry into his shirt once he assures you the scary man is gone. 

he holds your face, trying to soothe you the best way he knows how. “shh, shh, let’s call the sheriff, alright? this has to be reported.” he insists, holding you to his chest as he picks up your phone to call the police to your home, your kitchen and living room a mess of the night that would undoubtedly scar you for life. you nod, burying your face in his comforting scent. “just tell them what happened, and make sure you tell them everything.” he encourages, petting your hair as you wait for them to arrive.

your heart sinks at the prospect of revealing your secrets to the police. surely they don’t need to know every word exchanged on the phone. you can communicate the gist. you rehearse in your head what to say—but nothing prepared you for sheriff zen’in putting suguru in cuffs and shoving him in the back of a squad car. 

you protest, proclaiming his innocence–but the sheriff says if he’s truly done nothing wrong, then he can answer a few of their questions down at the station. you ride in a car too, like a passenger instead of a prisoner, to report what happened in detail that night. you can hardly get through an account of it—too nervous about suguru’s interview. he didn’t even wait for a lawyer, and had already used his phone call. deputy choso finally lets you go once it’s apparent you’re too shaken up to give them anymore than your scrambled memory, about being home and talking to suguru and then a very…summarized version of your call with the killer—and of course your run from him. 

you’re relieved when a just-rolled-out-of-bed satoru throws the station doors open, face stern as he scans for you. his features soften when they land on yours, and he’s pulling you into his arms before you’ve even really processed that he’s here. suguru must have used his call on him, to make sure you were taken care of in the event they want to hold him overnight—you’re touched. 

“y/n, what happened?! suguru said—a ghostface broke into your house?? are you alright, are you hurt—what are they talking to him for?” he asks, cradling your head on his chest after gawking at your bandaged ankle. you shake your head on him, just wrapping your arms around his waist. 

“i dunno, the guy chased me, satoru—i thought i was going to die!! suguru got there just in time, he saved me, and they’re treating him like he’s a criminal! get him out of there—call your dad or something this is bullshit!” you heave, panicky breaths shaking out over his shirt. 

he rubs your back, finding suguru’s eyes through the blinds over sheriff zen’in’s window. he takes a steadying breath, clearly trying to set an example for you to follow. “it’s gonna be okay, c’mon, you believe in your ole pal satoru, right?” he leans back, hands on your shoulders to give you a reassuring look. his nod gives you the faith to do the same, leaning back into his chest for that feeling of safety that seems so fleeting these days. 

satoru goes back and forth with the deputy about holding suguru overnight, threatening the mayor’s intervention. but deputy choso calls his bluff, rolling his eyes in clear aggravation. 

“even the mayor’s asleep right now, kid. unless daddy’ll come running at three a.m, geto’s spending the night.” 

“we have classes tomorrow you dipshit. y/n was literally expecting him—what can you even be holding him on?” satoru bucks, arching his brow. it’s rare that he gets serious, but when he does he comes correctly. 

“reasonable suspicion.” choso shrugs, leaning back in his desk chair. “doesn’t suguru know how to clone phone numbers? i seem to remember some trouble the two of you got in for prank calling.” 

“in eighth grade?” gojo scoffs, grabbing your hand roughly. you know it’s just because he’s wound up about the situation at hand. first your attack, then they cage suguru up like an animal, and now he’s dealing with dumbass deputy dewey. “prank calling to psycho murderer, huh? i suppose that is the only logical fuckin step!” he shakes his head in disbelief, dragging you from the station. “let’s go, sugar. time to get you back to bed—”

ice floods your veins. “what did you just call me?” you pull back out of his grip, looking at him with wide eyes. satoru’s face falters as he searches over yours, paused mid-speech. 

“what, sugar? i’ve called you that for years, y/n!” he rolls his eyes, sighing. “so paranoid, goodness. c’mon.” he pats your lower back, urging you into a steady stride alongside him. “let’s go to my place. wouldn’t want there to be a second strike or anything.” 

you still stare at him with that quiet unease, brain racing through your conversation with ghostface. “h-he called me that, too.” you mutter, stumbling over your own feet every few steps. satoru slips his arm around your waist to keep you close and to keep you from falling. 

“well, i didn’t exactly coin the nickname, i must admit.” he forcibly chuckled. “babe, please.” he rolls his eyes at your steady disbelief. “if i wanted to kill ya, do you not think i could pretty easily? i mean, my dad’s the mayor and you have no family. clearly, i only have your best interest at heart, y/n.” he raises his brow, and as blunt as his statement may be, it is effective. satoru’s strong enough to crush you in one hand, if he wanted to. plus they’d be the only ones that missed you if you were gone.  “i’ll…try not to call you that anymore.” he adds on the end, squeezing your hip in an effort to give you some peace of mind. 

you nod softly, processing. he’s always been sort of crude and a little brutal in his manner of speaking, always followed up by triumphant giggles at his own jokes. it’s his way of protecting you, of playing good cop and bad cop all at once, and over time you’ve gotten used to his bluntness. he was right anyhow, you shouldn’t doubt the only protection you have in times like these. plus, his offer of safety was too good to pass up. 

so you let gojo bring you to his huge estate, not affiliated with the mayor’s property downtown, no, this was just for satoru alone. it was expansive but still held onto that homestyle feeling. his bedroom was cozy, warm and safe like his arms around you, protecting you through the last few hours of the night.

news of your attack had spread like a forest fire around campus by the following morning. of course everyone’s in your face, all swarming around you in hopes they could get any bits of information—did the ghostface mention nanami? how did you escape? why was suguru still at the station if he rescued you? 

luckily satoru is there to serve as the buffer between you and the crowd, your other friends close in quickly as well, shoving and cussing until the path cleared and the rules to leave you be were instilled. you weren’t even sure how you were up and walking right now. you were exhausted between the chase and your collective two hours of sleep. your worry was weighing you down, the haunting anxiety of being attacked again, of causing more of your friends to be killed due to your wrong answers, of getting suguru into serious trouble just because this town wanted someone to blame for this. you felt like you’ve had too many iced coffees, body wired and fidgeting as you try to avoid all the lingering stares by making your way to the bathroom to hide for a bit—just long enough to let everyone settle into classes, so you can peacefully get to yours. 

you hear a couple of girls chit-chatting between the stalls, a voice you recognize saying your name followed by a near audible eye-roll. you quickly tuck yourself into a stall so they don’t see you when they come out, heart racing now that you seem to be the topic of conversation. 

“i bet she’s making it all up. i mean—a ghostface costume? really? that movie came out thirteen years ago! i mean if we’re getting in the halloween spirit, why not jigsaw?” she snickers, the metal door to the stall clanging open to signify that they’ve left—the water running at the sinks. 

“mei mei! that’s awful, why do you hate her so much?” the other girl teases, grabbing some paper towels. you bite your lip in wait, insulted beyond belief that she could think you were that big of an attention whore. 

“because gojo and geto follow that girl around like she has some kind of…spell on them! i wouldn’t be surprised if she killed dr. fushiguro. she was in his class last year—and he seemed to pick on her a lot. maybe he was some…witchy sacrifice to make the two hottest guys at this school fall in love with her! nanami was this years!” she reveals as if she’s solved the crimes herself, simply from being so self-aware. 

“that’s the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever said, skank!” her friend dismisses with laughter, their voices fading as the bathroom door squeals shut, telling you they’ve left for good. you lean against the door of your stall for a moment, raking your hands over your face to cope with the cold sweat coating your skin and the disbelief gripping your heart. you fidget with the lock, stumbling out to the sinks for something to bring you back to life. you turn the faucet on, thinking some cold water would do the trick. it helps you perk up a bit even when it just hits your hands. before you can cup any and splash your face, a chill creeps up your spine—you’re being watched. 

you bend over, looking under the doors of each stall to make sure there weren’t any feet lurking behind the doors waiting to attack you. you don’t see anything, puffing out your cheeks as you exhale and right your posture. you make eye contact with yourself in the mirror. you have to snap out of this, you tell yourself, raking your hands over your face, tugging at your eyes and rubbing your cheeks in an effort to remind yourself of reality. 

“y/nnnn.” the distorted voice echoes in your mind, making you gasp and spin around to look at the stalls, look all over the bathroom, nearly flattening your chest to the floor to look under the stalls again. again, nothing. your brain is playing tricks on you. you’ve officially lost it. what was the likelihood of being attacked in your campus bathroom anyway—especially since he started at your house? you take a deep breath and gather your backpack up, hearing the clanking metal sound of one of the stall locks. “don’t ignore me, y/n.” 

you squat down, there had to be someone there this time. you knew paranoia could only go so far, that voice sending your heart into a fearful spiral. 

boots descend from the toilet, planting firmly on the ground. you start to breathe heavily, a jagged black cloak lowered to tell you that you were indeed being targeted by a ghostface impersonator, and you scream. he lunges out of the stall—a huge hunting knife clasped in both hands over his head as you duck, limboing under his attack and making for the door. 

“help me!!” you scream frantically, voice so shrill it hurts your throat. you feel the heat of his body against your back, so you fling your head backwards into his chest—surprising him enough to falter. you fling the door open, making that connect too, scrambling for any extra time and space you could get. your vision is blurred by the nervous tears that spring automatically, searching for an exit or someone to help. you see a few guys standing together at the end of the hall—one of which has stark white hair that you could recognize from worlds away. “satoru!! he’s here, help!!” 

the frantic desperation in your voice grabs all of their attention, satoru and naoya zen’in—grandson of the sheriff–sprint closer to figure out what’s going on. they see the masked man stalking after you, but you can only keep running for your life. your legs nearly give out as you make it to satoru, collapsing in his arms. his eyes are wide as he pushes you back behind him, turning to deal with the intruder—but the zen’in beats him to it. he tackles the figure, managing to wrestle the knife away even before the ghostface rolled them to win the struggle, punching naoya hard enough that his head bounced off the floor. you gasp–shoving satoru forward. 

“help him!!” you panic, not able to stomach the thought of someone else dying over you. satoru barrels forward and roughly pulls the ghostface off, turning to naoya to ensure he was still alive while the masked figure tumbles to the ground with a grunt. you’re paralyzed with terror as one of the other boys, a freshman named ijichi, checks on you, grabbing your attention with his shaky voice.

“y/n, are you alright? goodness.” he pats your shoulder, and you nod–turning back to the commotion. you catch the sight of the cloak slipping down the stairs, screaming out for gojo to warn him. he quickly moves to follow—but finds no trace of the man. he turns back to you with a shake of his head. he was gone. 

satoru moves to pull you to your feet, holding you securely to his chest as yaga and a host of other teachers bustle through the hallways looking frantic. 

“he came to this school. that is it!” yaga shakes his head, surveying your crying and terrified form. “classes are canceled until further notice!” he declares, instructing for the cops to be called immediately–and to bring a paramedic for the student injured in your defense. you feel so guilty when you look over at the zen’in boy holding his eye, wincing. he had no business with you and didn’t have to get involved at all, but he likely saved your life!

you sniffle, gently pushing yourself off of gojo with a weak smile. you give him a grateful look, nodding to him in a way that communicated your need to accomplish something. “i’m okay.” 

he nods a little, letting his hand fall off of your elbow. he watches you slouch over to naoya as he shoves himself into a seated position. you crouch to his level, giving him a gentle but still anxious smile. 

“hey..does it hurt pretty bad?” you ask, sympathetically frowning at the shiner. he scoffs a little at your question. you sure are lucky you’re stunning–and that he has a reputation to uphold. 

“yeah? it’s a massive bruise. i’ll live though.” he shrugs, brushing his hair out of the way. 

“well…thank you. for doing that, you could have been hurt worse.” you nod, standing. you reach your hand out to help him to his feet. he smiles, and takes your hold despite his usual pride, he’s able to capitalize on some arrogance. 

“i had it under control, don’t worry about it. what kind of man would i be if i didn’t step in?” he smirks, and the little look makes you blush. maybe you had a soft spot for the zen’in families good looks. 

“i see, well. thank you anyway.” you hum, turning back to satoru. “i guess we’re free to go home, huh? classes are canceled…” you scratch at the back of your neck anxiously, hoping satoru would let you attach like a little lost puppy in order to stay within the realms of safety. 

he rubs at your shoulders, wiggling his brows a little. “mhm, way to go, princess. you got us outta school!” he cheers, throwing his arm around your shoulders. “i say, party at my house!! everyone’s invited!” he yells out into the emptying hallway, the announcement of canceled classes causing the majority of your peers to spill into the schoolyard, escaping before the headmaster changes his mind. 

the idea of a party right now made you nauseous. anyone of these people could be the ghostface poser or his next victim. you wish you could just hole up in your house,  but being alone was hardly an option for you right now. satoru keeps a hand on your back to guide you out of the civics hall, assuring you that a party is exactly what you need to get your mind off of things. 

“there’s no way i’d leave your side anyway! plus the girls are gonna be there, and—look who the cat dragged in!” his long finger turns your head in the direction he was looking, and your eyes widen at the sight of suguru waiting against the group’s usual tree. relief floods your system. at least suguru was free, clearly they couldn’t pin this on him like they wanted. 

he strolls over to fall in line on your other side, giving you a sly smile. “hey angel. shoko told me what went down, and i am now on your side. that sheriff doesn’t have a clue what he’s doing.” he sighs out as he loops his arm around your shoulders. you give him a proper hug, letting him pick you up slightly to keep walking to satrou’s place. it was a normal happenstance, the two of them loved passing you between them like a toy football they tossed back and forth, this time it was suguru who lifts you from the ground. you wrap your legs around his thighs with a giggle—feeling a bit of lighthearted fun spring to your heart. 

“oh don’t tell me you didn’t get the honeymoon suite.” satoru mocks, reaching for your upper half to pull you into his hold, to which you and suguru insist in passing you over. it’s all part of the games they like to play with you. 

you roll your eyes. “we tried to get you out, well—sato did. that deputy was a big ole meanie about it.” you huff, being carried like a baby in gojo’s arms. he nods, pouting down at you. 

“totally. was gonna get dad on it and everything! but hey—this party will be epic, the girls are getting some snacks, we’re on beer duty!” he cheers happily, gently tossing you up into the air. you freely giggle, falling back into his protective hold. he passes you to suguru, who slings you over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. you playfully kick and giggle and that sweet sound prompts satoru into comment. “she’s always so happy with us, huh sugu?” 

he pats above your back, nodding. “of course. you’re our girl, right?” he hums, giving satoru a knowing smirk. you squeal a little and nod. 

“mhm, i just feel so…safe with you two!” you sigh, relaxing across his shoulder. he finally lowers you to your own two feet once it’s time to walk into the general store with that one boozy cashier that would let geto have whatever he wanted from that store—including his weight in beer probably two times the legal purchase amount. you stroll around the aisles with them, satoru urging you to pick your own snacks over whatever gross shit iori and ieiri brought over. 

for once, all seems to be well. you settle into a couch at satoru’s place, letting the boys fight over where they sat, deciding they’d just let you lay across them both. so your new couch becomes satoru and suguru, but they’re just as comfortable. shoko and utahime laugh at the sight when they come in, a few more stragglers that heard satoru’s invite making their way in for the free booze. 

shoko of course came with her bag stuffed with horror classic dvds, starting with the obvious scream given her recent comments, and you roll your eyes and groan at the selection. suguru pets your hair back at your reaction, chuckling down at you. 

“what, not a horror fan?” he raises a brow, the idea making gojo titter. 

“probably not enough lady killers for our princess’ liking.” he elbows geto playfully, squeezing your thigh with his other hand. “or too many bimbos. which is it?” he asks expectantly, blowing some hair out his eyes. 

you shrug. “what does sidney say, something about how insulting it is that all the girls are so dumb? always running upstairs when they should be going out a door on ground level. it’s annoying. and yeah—more girl killers!” you giggle back, finally settling into a decent spirit now that you knew you were safe with your friends. 

“totally!! carrie’s like all we have!” utahime complains from the floor. 

“well—all the victims have been dudes so far. maybe we have a lady ghostface out there.” satoru raises his beer to clink it with utahime’s. she’s already tipsy enough to toast gojo, so you know this night will be eventful, though you can’t help your unease at his statement. you felt like it was important to only pass around the proper information in regards to something like this, even though satoru’s only joking innocently. 

“it’s not a woman. he’s too tall.” you mumble, reminding your friends in the room that you’ve suffered at the hands of this killer not once, but twice. your friends shift around awkwardly at the realization that they’ve gone a little too far. 

satoru pats your thigh. “hey, y/n—” you assume he was going to apologize, but he’s cut off by the phone. your heart plunges. no, this can’t be happening. not here, not in the safety of satoru’s home–with all of your friends gathered around. your gasp makes a few heads turn to you, and satoru’s face falls at your jumpiness. “hey, it’s alright. probably just my folks. don’t worry. shoko—answer it?” 

she nods, though you can tell she’s a little nervous too. she puts the phone to her ear and hums–seemingly recognizing the voice on the other end. the room all takes a collective breath of relief, but that doesn’t last very long. shoko clamps her hand over her mouth as she gasps, turning to you all to repeat what she was just told. 

“it’s the sheriff’s grandson—naoya. they found him strung up the flagpole—gutted like nanami!” she whisper yells, sparking the intrigue of most of the mildly intoxicated young adults in the room. she nods a few more times with whoever’s on the other line, shaking her head at the grotesque crime until they hang up. 

“well—what are we waiting for, let’s go check it out before they pull him down!” some freshman suggests, getting whoops and hollers from the other nameless faces as the pile out of the room, shoko leading the charge. you’re gripped with fear. this is the last straw. there’s no room to deny it anymore. the only common thread is you. when would this man get gojo? get geto? get ieiri and iori—you? would you have to watch all your friends die in front of you before he finally got you? naoya was not a nice guy, he had wronged plenty of people and was toji’s cousin—but he had saved you that day. and been punished for it.

“i need to go lie down.” you declare, sitting up on the only two men you could trust these days—which only made you fear for their safety that much more. suguru looks up at you wistfully, seeming to understand. gojo pouts, but nods his head towards his room. 

“we’ll know where to find ya, sweet cheeks.” he assured, helping you slide off of their laps. you smile and nod at him gratefully, breaking out in that nervous cold sweat you were prone to as you creep up the steps towards satoru’s room. your heart thunders in your chest, so loud in your own ears you think it may be audible to everyone else. suguru ‘awwws’ as you walk off and utahime blows you a kiss, stretched out in the recliner. she’s invested in the movie—totally into billy loomis, naturally. 

you wish you could be so naive to spend your night crushing on the killer in an old horror film, but your mind is too preoccupied with the one you’re living. some comfort soothes at your heart as you enter satoru’s large personal space. it smells of his soothing sweet scent, and you melt right into his bed, looking up at the rotations of the ceiling fan. you aren’t sure how long you stare up at it, wondering what entertainment your classmates were getting out of seeing naoya’s dead body. it makes you shudder to think about it, you wish that this was some sort of nightmare. at least those weren’t real. but that can’t be, because you feel yourself fall into some kind of satoru’s scent-induced slumber. 

“you know, it is pretty spooky how similar these past few deaths have been to the movie.” utahime scrunches her nose as she looks around the remaining friends. gojo nods, lips turned down in a pondering frown. 

“yeah–like the disembowelment? totally creepy. awww i’m all out of beer. utahimeeeee?” he coos, shaking his bottle at her. she jiggles hers and rolls her eyes at the emptiness. she shoves out of her comfy spot on the recliner. 

“you’re lucky mine’s empty, you bastard.” she chuckles, shaking her head and making her way out to the garage. 

“let suguru beer-sit for me when you get back, i’m gonna go check on the princess!” he yells after her, using his own thighs to propel himself into a stand. he turns to suguru, brows raised. “she’s been so skittish lately. i’ll be right back.” 

suguru takes a swallow of his room-temp beer, making a face at the taste. he finds himself alone with the movie, no choice but to watch the corny film that the current killings seem styled after—at least in costuming. he sighs. 

some time must have passed by the time you blink awake. you think it’s the trees rustling in the october wind that rips you out of your brief reprieve, or maybe it’s the uncomfortable silence and stillness to gojo’s house. either way, you’re yawning—stretching out on your stomach as you remember what caused you to isolate yourself from the rest of the party in the first place. you close your eyes as if that will stop the thoughts in their tracks, but it’s no use. 

the scraping up the trellis outside of satoru’s room does plenty to wipe your mind, followed by what could only be the sound of the window being opened from the outside. you push yourself up, ready to flee the bed, but his voice stops you as if he had puppeteer strings controlling your limbs. the distortion is familiar, just like it was on the phone that day. 

“don’t move you little bitch, i’ll slice you to ribbons!” he cheers, boots scuffing against the floor. you’re holding your breath, still laying on your stomach, head faced away from the killer. 

“wh–what do you want from me?” you gulp, clenching your jaw as his weight sinks into the bed. your hands grip satoru’s pillow as the ghostface touches your back, hand resting in between your shoulder blades. he trails one finger along your spine, stopping at the curve of your ass. 

“ya mean you haven’t figured it out?” he slides his hand under your skirt, curling his finger in the waistline of your panties, pulling them out and letting them snap back against your skin. “i want that pretty pussy in exchange for another day on this spinning rock!” 

you shiver, fear creeping up your veins. you feel something sharper than a finger against your back—unmistakably the point of his hunting knife. your body straightens and you gasp, his gloved hand palming at your ass. while the blade keeps you in place. 

“p-please, mr. ghostface, i–i dunno what this is all about!” you breathe heavily, feeling a tingling warmth bubble in your abdomen at his touch—fear had to be crossing the wires in your brain. he uses one hand to shove up your skirt, slapping the skin, the leather covering his hand only intensifying the feeling. you squeeze your eyes shut at the pleasurable sensation–shaking your head in surprise with yourself. 

“i just told ya, sugar. open up those ears and those legs. you’re gonna let me fuck you dumb if you ever wanna see outside this room again, be the good little slut i know you can be.” he pops your ass again, causing you to make a strangled sound of enjoyment. your cheeks burn, you can’t be enjoying this, the stranger that’s been terrorizing your life for the past few months—even possibly the man that killed your lover a year ago—should be the last person on the planet that causes your pussy to clamp around nothing. 

you obey, spreading your legs wide enough for him to shift between. he repositions himself there on his knees, hooking his arm around to press the long blade across your delicate neck as he pulls your hips up slightly. you gasp at the sharp weapon pressed to your jugular, careful not to move or you’d slit your own throat. he giggles, using his free hand to leave the outline of his hand on your ass. your heart thrashes, blood pumping in your ears as a disgusting need burns viciously in your gut. 

“that’s a good start, see. you can do it.” he kneads your ass approvingly, big hands gripping the skin so tenderly you whine out, biting your lip immediately after. his laugh is taunting, and makes the anticipation shoot up like sparklers. you’re ashamed. this is a dangerous and scary murderer, and he’s in here fucking you, you can’t deny that it makes you feel a little special—as he’s only targeting males. “ohhh you’re an even bigger skank than i thought, wow. you like it!” he licks his teeth audibly, hooking a finger around the crotch of your panties, yanking off the soiled fabric. he delights in damp juices covering his fingers as he tucks the soiled undies in the back pocket of his jeans beneath the robe. “you’ll fuck anyone won’t ya?” 

you move to shake your head, feeling blade bite into the flesh beneath. you open your mouth in your defense, silenced by the feeling of his bare fingers playing around in the mess holding you at knifepoint has created. “no! that’s not true!” 

he slaps your ass, sighing. “yeah? why’d you give this pretty little cunt to your married professor then? eager? desperate? did he make ya feel special?” he inquires, making your pussy grip again. the possessive lengths this murderer went through clearly spoke to your pussy if not your heart or your brain. you feel the man move around, freeing his cock if you had to guess. you ask yourself why you did fuck toji, and you decide to tell the truth. with the way things were going, he’d know if you were lying anyway. 

“because i was horny and he was hot and there—and i…i guess i did feel special, he picked me.” you reply, earning a growl in return. the smack on your ass has you screaming this time, the force of it causing you to brush up against the knife a little, feeling the first layer of skin give way. 

“wrong answer.” he gruffs, not as jovial sounding as before. you know what comes next. you briefly wonder what he’ll feel like, how curved or thick he’d be, and if he’d actually let you live after he’s done. he answers most of your questions rather quickly, feeling like lightning had struck you and split you open—you realize he’s shoved himself all the way in while you’re still laying on your stomach. you sputter out gargled sounds from suddenly being so full, balling up your fists in satoru’s pillow. maybe it was his scent wafting in your nose that made you horny instead of the masked man plowing your insides, holding your ass cheek apart with one hand in order to reach top speed. “little slut likes getting ruined by a psycho, huh? maybe i will keep you around after all, gripping my cock like you love it.” he giggles, laying all his body weight into the thrusts. 

you’re mewling, gripping satoru’s pillow like it was the only thing tethering you to this earth. the ghostface was hitting every spot so rapidly and with so much force that you’re seeing stars. it takes everything in you not to slump forward—only the threat of imminent death keeping you awake enough. 

“you keep grippin it, lil slut. dont wanna let me go?” he chuckles at the way you keep lifting up to escape the blade. “cute slut though!! and a good one. gonna give you my load for being so obedient—i guess you didn’t have much choice though!” he laughs and pulls the knife from your neck, sickening slaps of his hips into your ass sound out across the room, growing slower in pace until he stills altogether, seed flooding your insides–his tip pressing it directly to your womb. his breaths are slightly ragged as he presses your ass back together, trapping his cum tight as he pulls out of you, humming at the sight of his slimy seed sliding out of your hole and pearling up on your pretty thighs. you heard his zipper at the same time you heard a knock at the door, a voice you recognize all too well kicking the panic up again. 

“y/n? i heard screaming, are you okay?” suguru asks, jiggling the handle. “everyone’s gone and i just want to make sure you’re alright. i’m coming in.” 

you shake your head, turning to scream out a warning, but the ghostface clamps a hand over your mouth. suguru pushes the door open— furrowing his brows at the sight, immediately rushing forward to intervene. he grunts his displeasure, snatching your hand to yank you away from the figure. 

“run y/n!” he commands, trying to shove the man away from you. you slide off the bed frantically, trying to get geto to run away with you as he and the ghostface struggle for dominance over the knife. he turns his head to look at you still standing in the room. “go, now!” he calls out, the sound of the blade making contact with his skin making the color drain from your face. his eyes widen as he looks down at the knife in his chest—while the masked murderer cackles wildly before he grabs the wooden handle. geto looks back up at you, eyes growing more and more lidded.

“yet another friend you’ve killed, little skank!” he cheers, yanking the knife out with a harrowing schlick before embedding it in him again for good measure—his form falling to the ground. the sound of geto’s body collapsing was enough to send you scrambling down the stairs in search of the only other person who could help you get away. your legs move faster than you’ve ever seen them go before, taking two steps at a time as you bound for the door. 

you hear the stomps of ghostface’s boots coming after you. you shudder out your cries of anguish, trying to figure out a way to put some space between you and him—not wanting to put any merit in his promise to keep you alive. you jump over the couch, slinging the tv down and once again throwing any and all obstacles in your path. it seemed to work well enough the first time you tried it, and based off of his hiss and a subsequent thump, you know you tripped him up a little bit. you sprint towards the garage, flipping on the light and pressing the switch to raise the door—screaming in horror at what the lights reveal. 

iori utahime was nearly unrecognizable, her head smashed in the refrigerator with a broken beer bottle sticking out of her chest. hot tears spring out of your eyes instantly—muttering your apologies as you dip under the opening the garage door gives you, full sprinting like your life depends on it. you’ve made it to an open field—somewhere you once felt safe now making you feel like a deer waiting to be pounced on. you keep your head on a swivel, trying to locate the black mass in the night—but it was virtually impossible. 

when he comes out of your peripheral—running at you from your right side, you see him in enough time to slide under his attempt to bear hug you, turning an about face towards the house. maybe you could make it back there, make it back to geto’s body—if you could just lock the doors and windows, you should be home free. satoru was still around–luckily you didn’t find his body. you struggle to get oxygen into your system through the chilly night air—feeling it squeeze at your lungs as you desperately fight to get back to some idea of safety, running in bursts and patterns to keep the masked man guessing and confused through the tiny holes in the mask. tears still sting at your eyes as you throw yourself up the steps, making it to the door which you deadbolt instantly. you sweep the house, making sure the other doors were locked before coming back to the front—hearing the beating of the ghostface rap against the door. 

“don’t lock me out sugar! we had such a good time!” he appeals, using the weighty knife handle to beat on the door some more. you grip the sides of your hair, out of breath and full blown panicking. if satoru wasn’t in the house, then you’ve locked him out, and who knows if suguru was clinging to life upstairs. noise behind you makes you wheel around to confront it—terrified that the ghostface snuck in through a window like he had earlier. 

instead, a heavily injured and bloody suguru limps out of gojo’s room, gasping out your name as he tumbles down the stairs, falling all the way to your feet. you cry out and crouch to him, face contorted up with concern and horror. he motions to stand, asking you to help him do so. 

“suguru! he’s outside–oh my god, are we going to die? where’s satoru? i need him to be safe too! we have to call the police—” you prattle on, doing your best to help lift his weight. he groans in pain, helping you to the best of his ability as you get him propped up against the wall. he keeps you from pulling away, holding your hand in both of his. 

“we’re going to be alright, angel. i’ll call the cops.” he assured, stumbling forward—toward the door. he nods to help you calm down, a bloody hand cupping your face to have you look him in his gentle eyes. “i’m going to get us out of here.” 

“don’t!! he’s gonna break it down or something—stand back, suguru! i’m scared!” you warn him as he looks out the peephole, shaking your head frantically. 

“you should be.” he says, leaning against the front door, giving you a cunning smile. gentle brown eyes shift into something much more sinister—though the lust that always swims in them remains. his words rock you off kilter—you’re sure you must be so paranoid that you’re making things up now. 

“wh-what?” you shake your head, furrowing your brows a bit as he lifts a bloody finger to his mouth, sucking the red digit clean with repeated swirls of his thick tongue—and making you step backward as the shock wears off. he was involved. you don’t understand how or why—but your best friend suguru geto was involved. 

“shame you don’t like horror movies, y/n. maybe if you had seen scream, you’d have known what to expect. high fructose corn syrup—just like in carrie.” he hums, trailing his tongue along his hand. you shake your head, steadily backing away from him. he wasn’t hurt at all—just theatrics to get you right where he wanted you. which means satoru—

“n-no…this is impossible. you…you came to my house!” you argue, trying to find a way for it to not be true. you back straight into another hard chest—and the figure dangles your panties over your face. your veins are frozen as you turn slowly—faced with the missing satoru. he’s beaming, wiggling the fabric in his hands. 

“surprise! look what we did for you, princess!” he cheers, stepping forward to make you back up—pushing you back into suguru with every calculated step. you blink rapidly, processing all that’s before your eyes. satoru and suguru? they were working as a team this whole time? a murderous, manipulative team?

“for me? what on earth are you talking about??” you shake your head incredulously, wondering how they’ve cloaked their insanity this whole time. “i–i never wanted this!” you begin to sniffle, the tears of realization starting the burn your eyes. 

“no? you know how we feel about boys around our princess.” satoru hummed, shaking his head. 

“after all of our years of devotion to you,” suguru shakes his head, stepping in front of you as well, leaning down to capture your vision. you avoid his eyes, too busy dealing with your racing thoughts. “you reward us by giving your virginity to a married man. what were we supposed to do about that angel?” 

“how–how did you find out–”

“you’re so loud in his office, pretty girl. we know what you sound like all too well—and you had been missing a lot that semester…we put two and two and two together!” he says shrilly, devoid of the costume though the large hunting knife was still in hand. 

“i…i didn’t ever get any attention from boys!!” you start to cry, the full weight of their words taking hold on you. everything was your fault after all, those haunting feelings were all true—and your best friends were the ones behind the whole scheme. 

“why would you need any other attention?? are we not more than enough?” he snarls, deeply wounded that you gave your body away after he’s spent so much of his time catering to it. 

you sniffle, recoiling away at his tone. geto was always so gentle and calm, but it seems like he’s finally snapped. you never thought they had any romantic intent with all their safe-guards, assuming they viewed you more like a tiny kitten that needed their protection. but it all makes sense now, their abnormal need to spend their time with you, the cuddling, the touching, even the carrying game—you were sure now that it was all about their feelings for you. geto grabs your face in one broad hand, jerking your chin up to look at him. 

“you’ll look at me when i’m speaking to you. answer. are we not enough?” he demands, clenching his jaw so tight that you can see the muscles twitch. 

“yes! you’re enough—i just didn’t think it was like that, boys–i didn’t think you both liked me, i–i just thought you were being nice–” 

“well. there’s no more of that, slut. if we didn’t kill the other two, who knows what you would have let them do.” he snarls, squeezing your cheeks together to keep you from speaking further. satoru claps his hands, tugging you to the couch. 

“it’s time we make you our final girl, sugar. aren’t you so lucky? who else would love you like us?!” he asks you, pushing you into the cushions. he holds the knife to your shoulder, pouting. “don’t make me use this on you, pretty girl. just listen to us and we’ll go from a scary movie to a happily ever after.” he hums, sitting at your side so he could keep the blade steady. 

you’re reeling, brain light and heavy all at once. they did this…for you? all to show you their love and devotion? it’s too much. his words are sweet but his actions have been anything but. you shake your head. “utahime…what did she do to deserve that?” you snap, tears slipping down your cheeks, you feel bolstered with the confidence that they won’t hurt you. this elaborate scheme has all been to make you theirs, after all. 

geto laughs, shaking his head as he comes over to the couch, the boner in his pants so obvious your pussy clenches involuntarily. you’re lucky your skirt has you covered enough that neither of them saw it, for you’d never hear the end of it. geto strokes himself over his pants, giving satoru some kind of direction with the nod of his head. gojo shifts you to your knees, forcing your head forward to stare at suguru as he unbuttons his pants. 

“utahime was in the way.” suguru shrugs, letting his endowment slap up against his red corn syrup stained shirt. he peels that off next. 

gojo scoffs. “you don’t need friends anyway, you got us!” he cheered, repositioning his digits on the back of your neck. suguru pushes some hair over his shoulder, gesturing to his cock with a simple look down. 

you shake your head no, trying to fight against satoru’s hold, but he points the knife under your jaw, following the line of the bone. suguru chuckles darkly. 

“this whore will fuck anything on two legs, but when it comes time to fuck the men that earned it, you wanna be shy?” he shakes his head with disappointment, “you even slutted yourself out for someone you didn’t know. what’s the problem? if he holds the knife against your neck will it make you drip again?” 

the statement makes you gasp softly, the pang in your core causing you to whine in disbelief. why was this turning you on? there’s no way you should be giving in to such a crazy stunt. they’ve ruined your life, killed anyone close to or interested in you—and now they’re here to claim their due reward. and your pussy is absolutely leaking over it despite the alarms ringing in your head. the way that geto grabs a fistful of your hair to guide your face to his drooling slit has you opening your mouth to welcome him inside without any more protests, causing gojo to giggle at the sight.

“told ya she’d give in. we know her better than anyone, yeah?” he dances the knife along the side of your neck as your throat bulges with suguru’s thickness. your eyes roll back at the feeling of his fat tip hitting your uvula, keeping you from speaking anyway. 

“there we go. you’re pretty when you listen, y/n.” he hums, cock jumping in your mouth. you felt better than he could’ve  imagined—and nothing could recreate the mix of fear and taboo lust that you look at him with, tears dotting the corner of your vision as he guides your head in bobbing along his thick shaft. gojo just keeps your hair from falling in your face–eager to see all of you as you arch up on your knees, wiggling your pretty ass in the air. “nasty little thing. you’re just as bad as us, you know. you made us kill all these poor people—if only you listened to us and left boys alone.” suguru grunts, watching as satoru pushes your skirt up, trailing the tip of the knife over your ass cheek, careful not to slice as he peppers slaps to your other side. you whine at the feeling, pussy tightening at his teasing even though suguru filled your mouth to the brim. suguru slaps you—medium intensity, but coupled with satoru’s spanks and his dick forcing your throat apart—it had your vision darkening. you never stop sucking his cock though, and that’s what he was testing for. 

“let her ride it.” he rewards you with his approval, and satoru snickers happily. suguru’s hand falls to grip your neck, loving the sounds you make when struggling to breathe. the pain is so delicious, you can feel the morale in you dying the longer they toy with you—your need to be touched outweighing your fear–transcending it into trust. you know that they love you, in their own fucked up way, so they won’t kill you. your drowsy eyes shoot open when you feel the cool wooden handle of the hunting knife nudge against your clit. gojo holds it carefully by the blade—too skilled to let it cut him even with your uncalculated movements. suguru chuckles at your reactions, letting your hair go to see how you swallow him up on your own accord. you don’t falter, not even when the handle slides around your hole, teasing you into steady rolls of your hips to find it. gojo loved this—watching you grow so needy you’d settle for fucking yourself on the weapon that slayed your professor, your lab partner, your white knight, and your best friend. 

“look who’s a needy whore now. you wouldn’t ever be satisfied without us, angel.” suguru insists, watching the pleasure on your face as satoru finally lets you sink down on the handle. it’s wide, stretching you open with a slight burn—but it’s delicious friction strokes against your insides, and you were eager for anything to relieve the ache in your stomach, the way they used you but loved you mercilessly has you clamping, wetness sliding down the weapon. the guilt pushing back against the pleasure was slowly fading—losing. “oh, no, no. don’t let her cum.” suguru tsks, sliding his cock free of your mouth. you whine at the loss, rubbing at your sore jaw, feeling gojo’s hands find your waist again. he pulls you to lay in his lap, his own excitement pressing against the tight seam of his zipper. you’re careful to lay your head on his thigh, looking up at him and feeling a sense of relief—even as he pressed the blade to your neck. 

“you liked this earlier, right? that’s because you’re just as fucking nasty as we are, cutie.” he snickered a little, cupping your clothed tit. suguru saddles between your legs this time, pushing your knees to your chest without pause, absolutely nothing but a feral need to claim you flashing in his eyes. he pushes your shirt up just to see all of you, “i’ve waited far too long to see these tits, angel.” he grumbles, palming at them in between squeezes from satoru’s large hands. you moan at their touches—so intense yet different and identifiable. satoru hums at the little noise, tweaking your nipple as geto parts your pussy lips. he doesn’t warn you before he sheaths himself, making you take his length all at once. your eyes widen at the feeling—so wide you don’t understand how your throat accommodated him. your back arches off the couch at the sensation, you think you can feel every vein and ridge along his length as he lets you get used to it. gojo’s enamored by the face you make, brows pinched and mouth dropped open—wide eyes flickering between them. he’s dreamed of this for so long—they would do all of this as many times as it took to have you like this now, but luckily you’re obedient. satoru cups your face with his free hand, trailing his fingers along your cheekbone in a touch reminiscent of his ghostface earlier. he’s gentler than suguru despite the blade he wields. suguru’s grip on the back of your thighs will bruise, it hurts even now—but in the type of way you want to feel forever. he’s not gentle with your pussy either, pulling his full length out, tapping your clit with his head to make you mewl. the force he uses to plow back in causes satoru to move the knife from your neck, drawing circles over your bouncing fat tits instead. 

“she’s so tight, huh? think she’ll stay like that between the two of us?” gojo giggles, looking up at the pretty faces suguru himself was making. his eyes are lazily lidded, but still serpentine and focused on the sight before him. you squeeze down on his cock, and he loves that he can’t tell if it’s from fear or your returned affection. 

“so tight, despite giving it up so freely. isn’t that right–our little slut?.” suguru mutters, watching the glint of the blade as satoru swirls it around your delicate skin. your eyes widen at his question, face burning at the fact that they knew. blaming them wouldn’t get you anywhere—it seems you had to own your mistake and hope that groveling can return you to your former glory, despite how you clench around him calling you a slut. 

you nod, “i’m sorry! i didn’t know that you two love me, i’m sorry, suguru!” you lean up a bit to appeal to him, causing satoru to knick your skin with the blade. you moan at the slight burn, beads of blood bubbling to the small cut. satoru curses at himself, though the noise you make has his eyes narrowing at yours in intrigue. you liked it, just like you liked fucking at knifepoint earlier

“you’re a dirty little bitch.” satoru chuckles, looking up at an intoxicated suguru. his eyes were nearly blacked, pupils fully dilated. he leans over, running his fat tongue along the shallow wound, humming at the few drops of your blood that he got to taste. satoru arches a brow, fascinated by the reaction. it makes him want a taste for himself—but suguru’s still hungry for more. his thick hand steadies your jaw, his tongue licking a thick stripe up the side of your neck. you shiver at the feeling—all the feelings. the warmth threatening to spill over at the cock splitting you in half, the slight dizziness that came from the cut—how lewd and chill-inducing suguru’s tongue felt, the intense desire behind satoru’s groping. it was all consuming, and you were losing sight of yourself relatively easily—after all, you felt your safest with them. they’d never hurt their final girl. 

“let’s see just how dirty, satoru…” he hums, never faltering with his hips as he moves his lips to your neck, licking and sucking spots into your skin almost romantically. you’re so undone that you even move your hips, circling to try to get closer to suguru, teetering on the line. 

“oh–it feels so good, suguru..” you mumble, and satoru giggles at your blissed out face, dick throbbing in his jeans. 

“i’m sure it does, pretty slut.” satoru sings to you, his normal taunting voice was layered with the sick affection he holds you in. he watches your cut pearl up with blood again, the sight so pretty to him. he’s seen plenty of blood eradicating all the threats to your happiness, but yours seemed so much better. like you were more pure than those that he’d eliminated on your behalf. he wanted to see some more—and suguru does too. satoru makes a matching cut below the accidental one, swiping his thumb over it to collect the hot crimson. you watch him, lengthening your neck to tilt your head back—eagerly following how his tongue wrapped around the slender digit to suck the tangy taste off. 

the opening you give suguru is so delicious he can’t repress his chuckle as he picks the perfect spot between your neck and shoulder. he bites down and you can feel his canines pierce the skin deep, screaming out at the painful bliss. your red blood covers their white teeth, leaking out of their pink lips. suguru looks like a vampire instead of a masked murderer with his chin dyed burgundy, satoru’s tongue darting out to collect the remnants on his own mouth before he leaned up–grabbing suguru’s jaw so he could lap up the stain, letting your blood mingle together on each other’s tongues as they wrestle together. gojo holds the knife carefully away from suguru’s head as he puts his other hand on his face, the two clearly just as into each other as they were you—a fact that was terrifying and insanely hot at the same time. you shudder—feeling your heartbeat echo through the cuts and your bite, pussy throbbing around suguru. he breaks away from satoru—yanking him back by a fistful of his white hair. 

“our little bitch thinks it’s time for her to cum.” suguru sighs, and satoru grins down at you with a mix of blood and saliva dribbling from the corner of his mouth. satoru shakes his head. 

“but i haven’t even touched her!” he protests, pouting down at you. it makes you feel a pang of guilt in your stomach—but not because you were fucking two serial killers, no–because you hadn’t given one of them enough attention. 

“you did take her earlier—without permission.” suguru growled a bit and looks over your slightly bloodied chest and fucked out face. he knows exactly what will perk you back up and get satoru back in line. he releases his hold on his hair and slips out of your sopping folds, moving to slip the knife from satoru’s grasp while taking your chin in his other hand. he nods satoru to you. “prep her ass—i wonder if she ever let the professor in there. wait no…i’m sure he only fucked your ass.” he gently pulls on you, prompting you to get back to your hands and knees, facing him. he strokes your cheek with the back of his hand, tilting your chin up with the blade to look at him. 

the intense knowing in his eyes makes a shudder trill down your spine—and your pussy clench. how did he know that? knowing about the affair—hearing it—was one thing. but how did they know the intimate details outside of…being there. the puzzle pieces click into place and suguru can see it in the way your eyes widen. he chuckles, nodding to confirm your fears while satoru jiggles your fat ass cheeks in his hands. he’s admiring the recoil, the leaking pussy he had to spread your ass to see—it was all such a wonderful and worthy reward for him. 

“you think we’d miss a show like that? tsk tsk.” he pouts, keeping you engaged so satoru could warm you up on the other end. “professor fushiguro didn’t want any more children? how sad.” he teases slightly, running the knife over your plush lips, watching the way your skin gives in to the metal, bouncing back up as he moves it to a new spot. satoru gathers the arousal pooling down your thighs, adding his spit to the nasty mix on his fingers. you gasp softly, feeling his digits prod around your puckered entrance. “could have made a pretty little thing like you his baby mama? hm. maybe if he’d been smarter about it, his existing son wouldn’t be fatherless. though that’s on you too—”

you whimper, shaking your head. “n–no, don’t say that!” you protest, feeling the humanity in you lash out at the statement. 

“why? hard truth? don’t worry princess—we’ll give you plenty of kids. you won’t be left wanting, poor thing.” satoru pouts with you, giving you the first finger down to the knuckle. you squeeze around it, any combativeness dying right back down as the brain fog returns. he’s slowly thrusting it, letting you rock your hips back for more, the unrelenting need in your gut yet to be satisfied under geto’s punishments. 

“and your kids will have two fathers just to keep you extra safe. can’t you see? we’re the only ones who can protect you and make you happy.” geto implores, stroking your cheeks and watching your reaction to satoru’s second finger, tucking his lip between his teeth. 

“oh she already knows that, sugu. c’mon sugar. tell him.” he encourages, defending you in his own way. he scissors his fingers in your ass, giggling at the wet squelch that accompanies his movements. “you’ll be so happy–just tell him, princess.” he appeals, your brain mushy with the feeling of their hands on you and their promises swimming around your brain. they have protected you from so much over the years, between your average bullies and boys that truly crossed the line back in high school—you know that in their own deluded way, they’re right. 

“you guys are the only ones that make me happy!! i feel so safe here–i know you won’t hurt me.” you whine, nodding. it appeals to both of their hearts–the sultry call of your voice had them eager to fill all your holes. 

“oh we’ll hurt you, slutty princess.” satoru hums, sliding his fingers out of your choking ass. he repositions you, hands fitting into the handles of your waist to right you in his lap, angling his proud length at your hole. “see, this will hurt a bunch! but you’ll love it.” he assures, pulling you down on him a few inches at a time. you scream out, looking up at geto for rescue. he only steps in front of you–fisting his own cock in the angle he needs it. your eyes widen when you realize that they plan to fuck you at the same time—and they don’t have the decency to let you get accustomed to one before giving you the other. 

gojo hisses, your ass was still so tight despite all his hard work, though the amounts of spit and your own slick he slathered around were making it easy to sink into you. as soon as you hit the hilt of his dick—absolutely shaking from the pressure in your ass, suguru’s nudging your pussy lips apart to bully you some more. 

“you can take us both—you’re a slut, remember? you can do it for us.” suguru reminds you tenderly, holding your face as they get used to the feeling of you and each other through the thin wall of tissue that keeps them apart. you sputter, grabbing onto suguru’s shoulders in an effort to not fall over. satoru uses his hold on your waist to propel you to move, making geto’s work minimal. the pace he sets is brutal, picking you up and slamming you back down while suguru just rocks his hips to add to the sensation of two cocks fucking you open. 

if you thought either of them were big and splitting earlier, then this was what you got in return. white hot pain and pleasure courses through your veins, replacing the fear and unease that has been haunting you for days. they were taking care of you, and if you didn’t have to fear their wrath—why wouldn’t you squeeze their cocks, scream for them, and make them feel just as loved?

this is what they deserve, what their hard work has earned them: your silken walls being beaten into the shapes of their dicks and nothing else—your tits and ass bouncing with the impact of their brutal thrusts sending you back and forth like a tug of war. 

“it’s too much!” you cry out, feeling the heat in your stomach burn as bright as a star–you felt like you were on fire. pleasure tingled up your veins, the gummy spots of your cunt being abused perfectly by suguru’s thick cock—your insides being rearranged by gojo’s unrelenting brutality, despite his sweeter speech. 

“d’awh, no it’s not. look at you—you’re doing it.” he encourages, putting his lips to your neck. “you’re takin’ it so good.” 

“squeezing us even. stop lying–you want even more.” suguru huffs, grabbing your throat. you sputter a little, erotic moans turning higher in pitch. he chuckles at his prediction—cock twitching in your walls. 

“toomuchtoomuch—need to cum, please, please boys—wanna cum all over you!” you plead for yourself, though it’s not exactly a performance. they were fucking you mindless, and at this point you would do whatever it took to have them—even lying to the police about what happened here tonight. 

“aw sugu, listen to her. i wanna see it, let her cum.” satoru adds on your behalf, balancing his chin on your shoulder. he bats those crystal blues at suguru, knowing he surely can’t deny you both—and he won’t. 

“tell us you love us, angel. tell us who fucks you so good, then you can cum.” he grunts, laying his hands over satoru’s to feel you move your hips on them both, fucking into geto just to throw your ass back on satoru—it’s so fucking good. 

his demand isn’t even a challenge—you’ve succumbed to their desires for you some time ago, accepting their brutal form of love as the one that you’re deserving of—men who would kill for you. what more could you ever want? 

“i love you, fuck—i love you both so much! i always have–i always have, you’re my boys!” you pant, your voice begging plead. “you fuck me so good–let me cum to show you, please–suguru!! satoru!!” you cry their names so sweetly that satoru can’t hold himself back anymore—hot cum fills your ass before you even finish saying it. he’s shuddering, nodding to give you his permission, though you wait for suguru too. 

he leans forward—jerking your chin up into a proper kiss with him, gnashing on your lips and giving you a taste of his tongue. he holds your face still as he pulls away, nodding. “cum, angel. you’ve been so fucking good.” he drawls in your ear, giving satoru a rewarding kiss too as your hips spasm under his command. it strokes his ego, the way you scream and jerk as your orgasm overtakes you—the ones he’s denied you factoring into the toe-curling sensation of this one. he follows after you—his hot seed spurting out in bursts, so so much cum. it’s clear suguru and satoru have planned this for some time—and now that delights you instead of invoking the fear it should, if you were normal. 

satoru rubs at your shoulders, pulling away from suguru’s lips with a loud smack. you can feel your heart pounding—hearing it in your ears as they turn to you—cocks still plugging you full. “now princess…” he hums as suguru picks you up off of him. he looks so pretty, you think, his skin slightly red from excitement—blue eyes wild with adrenaline. “we’re gonna get you cleaned up—and then it’s your turn to attack.” he giggles, making you snap your tired head up to suguru who holds you like a baby. 

“the police. we have to be believable survivors after all. didn’t you watch any horror movie, y/n?” he shakes his head, a fond grin on his face as he takes you to the kitchen, sitting you on the counter for satoru to wipe down. gojo kneels between your legs to clean you carefully as suguru tucks the knife into your hands. 

“aim for the stomach. you’ve got our hearts already.” suguru smirks, dialing 911. 

[rinniessance]

FAITH ༊*·˚ - suguru geto x fem!reader

suguru geto has been slipping further into darkness every day since amanai riko's death. now with yu haibara's dead body in front of you, you think suguru might sink even deeper. so you offer him a respite between your legs.

꒰ warnings: nsfw - mdni .ᐟ.ᐟ hurt/comfort, porn with plot. established relationship, sex as unhealthy coping mechanism, co-dependency, oral sex (f! receiving), unprotected sex. canon compliant but you forgive geto all his crimes ♡ // word count: 6k ꒱ ꒰ notes: this is a repost from my old blog .ᐟ.ᐟ this was originally written for a collab and i love this piece so much, i want it on my new blog꒱

for a second, the world has finally gone silent. suguru doesn’t remember when was the last time it was this quiet inside his head. ever since that day, he’s been haunted by the creeping thoughts of the next time he’s going to fail; plagued by the thoughts of which friend he will have to bury next just because they were lucky (or unlucky) to be born with the gift to be special, to be stronger, to protect. but suguru should’ve known better than to trust his own mind not to play the cruel trick.

clap… clap.. clap. clap.clap.clap

raven-haired sorcerer keeps staring at the wall, paralyzed by the memories, the echoes that still breath down his spine and make the goosebumps dance across his skin. the clapping always follows the silence. same way a kid would pick on a just healed wound, making it bleed with the renewed vigor, suguru’s mind keeps tearing his never-healing soul apart and making it bleed all over again.

the water has gone cold, but geto doesn’t notice. in the end, the coldness that’s been spreading somewhere deep around his heart is harder to ignore. he has not noticed yet, but he’s been slowly losing himself to the darkness brewing inside. and if what they say about the eyes being windows to the soul is true, then suguru’s are sign of no good (you’ve been trying to find the reflection of the suguru you knew but he’s been slipping away further every day).

he knows you’ve been worried; he knows you’ve been asking him to open up and talk; whispering so softly please baby let me help you. and you’re so soft, so sweet, so willing to do anything, he tries to forget the burden he’ll always be carrying by losing himself between your legs. water droplets keep falling down his wet hair, and he thinks he’ll allow his inner demons to be satiated by the thoughts of you. he thinks of your soft lips that he yearns to kiss after a mission because the taste of the strawberry lipstick and green tea mochi you had for desert chases away the taste of vomit from the curses he had to swallow. suguru is sure he will do anything for you. he just has to make sure that you will do anything for him as well.

yu haibara is seventeen years old when he dies. you think you should be crying but the shock of the news has not worn off yet; you’re not able to comprehend yet that it’s another friend gone. you move your gaze to nanami who is sitting in the corner hiding his face behind the towel. he reminds you awfully of the suguru a year and some ago when he trailed behind satoru who was carrying the body of amanai riko. you wonder if nanami is hiding his eyes on purpose; you wonder if he's been crying and feeling guilty and blaming the villagers for what happened. you wonder because that's what you’ve been through with suguru.

you slowly turn to look at your lover: his under-eye bags have become even darker, his face appeared to be more sunken, and he looks even more disheveled than he’s been looking lately. you’ve been trying to persuade him to talk to you about the demons that are pulling him away from you but he doesn’t want to discuss this – that’s not what he wants you for. but you’re so helplessly in love with him, you’re not sure what you would do if he stops coming back to bury himself to the hilt in your pussy as means of coping. so if he wants to chase his demons away by fucking you like his life depends on it, you will allow him to do it every time.

“it was supposed to be an easy mission to exterminate a second-grade cursed spirit… fuck!” nanami feels bubbling frustration and exhaustion mix together, so he tiredly exhales. “their faith in ubusunagami... that was a local deity. that was a first-grade case.”

suguru sighs. “you need to rest for now, nanami. satoru has taken up your mission.”

“can't we just leave everything up to him alone at this point?”

the question hangs heavy in the air. satoru was becoming the strongest sorcerer, he didn’t need you or suguru accompanying him on missions anymore. you wonder if satoru really didn’t notice the changes happening with suguru, or if he just decided to ignore all the signs. maybe you should’ve brought your concerns to him but if your partner did not want to talk to his best friend about it, then you would not get in the mix.

you gently took geto’s hand and intertwined your fingers.

“i’ll wait for you in your room, my love. come find me when you’re ready.”

this has become a routine for you. whenever you would see suguru start slipping, you would offer him the oasis he seeks in your cunt. so you leave the morgue and let suguru come to you.

geto wanders around school before he makes his way to you. he thinks about the conversation he had with yu and yuki right before his mission. he thinks about yu’s sweet innocence and naïve desire to protect everything and everyone. what did he say to geto? it feels really good to be able to give my all to something i can actually do. should suguru have said something to him about how easy it is to slip and fall? how fragile human lives are and how unfair it was that the only lives that the non-sorcerer world was not scared of breaking were theirs?

and then he thinks about what yuki asked him. do you hate non-sorcerers, geto-kun? he makes a turn into a garden behind the school contemplating the question. did he really want to fight and reject the part that makes him grow hot with contempt, burning him from the inside? if the failure of the last year’s mission, if the death of yu haibara, if the thought of you bloody and dead in his arms makes his insides run cold, crippling him to the point of total numbness, then the thoughts of letting the weak and the pathetic live while the people closest to him only keep piling up as corpses make his blood boil. maybe that’s exactly what he was looking for.

suguru makes another turn to walk towards the dorm. he lets his thoughts run their own course while he’s trying to concentrate on the only person who matters to him right now. he knows you’re waiting for him in the room, and he cannot wait to slip into a blissful ignorance about everything, even if it’s just for a second. as he expects, you’re waiting for him on his bed, laying on your side facing the wall. he strips of his jacket and lays next to you snaking his arms around your waist and hugging you so close, you think he would never let you go again.

“need you right now, baby,” geto whispers so quietly and then places the first kiss in the crook of your neck. you turn to face him now instead, and gently cup his face into your hands. it always starts like this. suguru would come to you at the ungodly hour of the night, and you accept him with no hesitation.

“tell me what exactly you need, my love,” you respond and then place a careful kiss on his lips. he doesn’t respond, just lets you move your lips to the other parts of his face, pecking everything you can get your lips on.

“need to have you, to be in you.”

“then you have me. you know i’m yours, now and forever.”

with that, suguru pushes you onto your back and then climbs on top. he captures your lips in the kiss that can only be described as desperate: one of his hands comes up behind your neck and he pulls your face even closer to him, while other slowly trails down your body. he’s invading your mouth with his tongue, stealing all your oxygen for himself as if he’s to decide when you can breathe, teeth clashing. it’s messy, it’s violent in its intensity, and it makes the wetness pool between your legs. suguru pushes his knee between your thighs, spreading them further, and breaks the kiss. his gaze follows the outline of your body all the way to your clothes cunt, and the wet stain on your underwear gets him excited, and makes you blush.

“someone’s been waiting for this, huh?” geto teases and takes off your underwear. he gathers the slick dripping out of you onto his long fingers by circling them around your weeping entrance but doesn’t insert them yet.

“can you take me without any prep?” you can see his is frantic to the point of impatience. you can see how ragged his breathing already is, how heavy his eyelids are and how dilated his pupils became. suguru is a drug addict looking for his next fix, and only your pussy can offer him the relief he needs.

“anything you need, you can take from me,” is the only thing you can respond with, and suguru does not need any other confirmations. he shimmers out of his pants and boxers, takes off his shirt and his naked physic makes your breath hitch. you run your fingers on his pectoral muscles and down his pecks. you want to lick geto’s happy trail, all the way down his hard cock and then gag yourself to the point of tears. but that will possibly come later. for now, you just let him get situated between your thighs, grab your legs and bring them over his shoulders.

“you ready, pretty thing?” suguru knows that he doesn’t need to ask as if you will give any other answer but positive, but you still nod your head. geto knows that he is being selfish – there is no foreplay on nights like this, just pure desire and desperation. he will make sure he will pay you back later. now he takes his pulsating dick in his hand, strokes himself twice and lines himself with your needy hole. and when suguru pushes himself inside, he doesn’t give you any time to adjust to his size and buries himself to the hilt. the stretch is painful, you can feel your walls flatter around him trying to accommodate his cock. geto doesn’t give you any time to even think about adjusting when he suddenly pulls away and then bottoms out again. this has been rehearsed so many times that when the tip of his dick kisses your cervix, you forget all about the pain and let out a wanton moan. it’s in the moments like this that dark-haired sorcerer thinks your moans is the only melody that can sooth his troubled mind.

the pace he sets is unforgiving. it’s fast, it’s bruising, it’s almost maddening in the way he pushes himself in and out. and every time his cock leaves your dripping hole, your body just sucks him right back in. suguru’s hair is disheveled, perfect bun he likes to keep his hair in is unkempt and loose hair strands frame his face making him look like pure sin. he’s still holding onto your ankles, turning his head and placing timid kisses there when he pushes inside you especially rough.

“you’re so tight, angel. you’re always so fucking good to me. i’ve molded your cunt to take me so well, huh?” he’s babbling, and you’re drinking up every dirty thing he says to you. “open your mouth.” you do it without a second delay, and take out your tongue too, just like he’s trained you. geto grabs the back of your knees and pushes them onto your body, bringing you into a mating press. this allows him to reach an even deeper angle inside you (you didn’t think it was even possible), and you moan again through your opened mouth. he brings his face close to yours.

“god, you really are ready to take whatever i give you,” geto says through panting breaths and then spits on your tongue. your boyfriend forces your mouth closed, and you swallow without any further instructions. now that suguru is pressed against your chest, he feels so close, that you’re start losing yourself in the warmth his body provides. he speeds up even more, and with the changed position, he now hits the spot inside that makes your whole world spiral. you want to close your eyes but you cannot tear your gaze away from the devil above you – geto’s strands are now stuck to his forehead, sweat is dripping down the sides of his face, and you want to lick him clean. your breathing is shallow as you feel the orgasm starting to build up inside your belly – suguru can feel your walls flatter around him even tighter, and you know it forces him to go over the edge too.

“just like that, baby, it feels so good,” you cry out and suguru kisses you hard and rough. you know it’s because he’s trying not to come so he is distracting himself by your lips; but when you moan again into his mouth like your life depends on the orgasm he is holding off, he knows he cannot edge himself anymore. so he brings thumb to your clit to add the extra stimulation. as soon as you feel his finger on your sensitive nub, you’re grabbing onto the first thing that comes across your hands – suguru’s shoulders, his biceps, the sheet underneath you. the coil inside your tummy snaps, and your orgasm gushes down geto’s cock. your pussy becomes so tight, it’s impossible to hold back anymore so suguru follows right behind you. he keeps fucking you through your orgasm feeling your tight gummy walls suck him dry. your legs are shaking from the overwhelming feeling of pleasure and the position you're in, and you try to pull yourself away from being overstimulated.

"baby, 's too much..." you try to let him know but he just kisses you again and keeps circling his thumb on your clit.

"aw, are you saying my girl can't take it anymore?" he hits the gummy spot inside of you again and that almost brings you to tears. you know that it must be almost painful for him as well, his softening dick still throbbing inside you but geto does not seem to care. only once he sees the tears running down the sides of your face that he finally slows down.

you’re trying to catch your breath, slow inhales and exhales to bring yourself back to earth. sorcerer hovers above you, and you can still feel him twitching inside. he brings his gaze to where your bodies connect, the intimacy of vulnerability of this moment making him dizzy. suguru starts pulling out and looks at the mess leaking out of you, the combined releases slowly dripping from your hole and down between your ass cheeks. you whine at the sudden emptiness, and despite the shaking legs, overstimulation and the aftershocks of your first orgasm, you already yearn for another. you flutter your eyelids open and pleadingly look at geto, praying he would know exactly what you need right now. he clearly sees the hunger swimming in your eyes but he loves nothing more but to hear you beg.

“what happened, angel? you’ve been fucked so stupid, you can’t even use your words anymore? i bet that’s true, my dick got you so dumb.” you squirm at his words because no matter how hard you try, his mocking tone makes your pussy tighten around nothing and you whimper. "weren't you the one just crying that you can't take it anymore? dick so good you can't even decide if you want more or not?"

“please sugu…” you ask breathlessly, and suguru chuckles darkly. he doesn’t give in into a simple plea and starts kissing down your neck, making his way in between your boobs and licking the sweat that pooled there. he knows you can do better than this.

“you have to give me more than that, pretty girl. what do you need?” he gathers the dripping cum with his two fingers and pushes them back inside you. at the same time, he takes your nipple into his mouth and gently sucks on it. the combined feeling of his fingers going in and out your throbbing core and tongue leisurely licking and sucking on your hardened nipple makes you quiver with anticipation. “still not talking, huh?”

suguru draws a circle around your nipple and then bites on it, making you gasp. he releases it and then blows on the wet skin and that sends shivers down your spine. the juxtaposition of hot skin and cold air makes you wetter and you can’t take it anymore. you finally give your lover what he’s been waiting for.

“i want you to clean me, sugu.”

“and how do you want me to do it?”

“with your tongue. please please please, i need it so bad, i really really need, please clean me up 'guru,” you say through tearful voice. it’s not good enough of begging, he will have to teach you (again) better later, but geto is also running out of patience. he wants to taste the sweet mess between your legs, and he wants you to fall apart around his tongue again. so he languidly trails kisses between your breasts, on your stomach and all the way down to your cunt while still pumping his fingers in and out of you. he only stops once he’s face to face with your wanting hole.

“so beautiful, my girl is always so beautiful and ready for me,” and you’re not sure if he’s talking to you or your pussy. he kisses the inside of your thighs first, tickling you with the locks that left his manbun. he didn’t slow his fingers once, adding more speed, curling them so he can reach the spot that makes you lose you breath and wonder if you were made to always be in this position, for him only. he finally brings his mouth to your puffy lips and spreads your folds so he can see the clit dying for his attention. he lightly slaps it, which earns a surprised gasp from you, and then finally licks up from your hole to you clit sucking on your sensitive nub.

the whole world could collapse now and both of you would not care. geto groans from the taste he’s been dying to have ever since he walked through the doors, and you’re sure moans that escape your throat will make the devil blush if he wasn't present in the room with you. suguru starts lapping at your clit: he’s fully in control of long languid strokes of his tongue that makes your ears ring. he adds now a third finger into you, and the stretch is almost painful again even if you took him raw not even 10 minutes ago. raven-haired sorcerer can feel your walls tighten around his fingers again so he keeps abusing that gummy spot inside, curling them just at the right angle, while he’s licking up your lower lips and sucking your pearl.

you grab the hair tie that holds his almost non-existent bun and take it out of his hair letting the long locks drape all over your thighs and frame his face. you glance down and you think he looks absolutely mesmerizing like this – eating you out like it's his life line, your hand in his hair massaging his scalp, suguru’s moans vibrating against your clit. you grind on his face, bringing yourself even closer, desperate to get to the top of the orgasm you started climbing again.

“someone’s so needy,” geto chuckles.

“yes, baby, please, i need to come, please let me come again,” you plead with him, and he finally gives you what you want. suguru speeds up his fingers once again, swirling his tongue near your entrance to catch your release and then up the inner lips back to the clit where he keeps sucking on your almost overstimulated bud. you weave your fingers through his hair and tug, just enough to let geto know you’re very close. your breathing becomes shallow and you want to continue looking at your lover performing his magic but the orgasm waves are threatening to drown you, so you close your eyes and let go.

suguru feels your cunt tighten around his fingers and he withdraws them from your hole so he can drink up your juices instead. he is pushing his tongue inside you, tasting your sweet release, and he can swear he can taste his own cum that he pushed back into you before. you moan out his name over and over again, repeating it like mantra with “please don’t stop” and “this feel so so good” sprinkled in between your incoherent babbling. geto is unrelenting and he fucks you with his tongue through your second orgasm, not missing a single drop you have to offer him.

once he can feel you start to relax, he withdraws from your abused pussy to admire his work: the mess of your combined releases and his spit on your cunt glistens in the moonlight peaking through the curtains, and suguru thinks he’s never seen as anything as beautiful as this. he reaches for the phone in his pants and opens up a camera.

“i would submit a photo of your pussy like this to a modern museum of art if only anyone else was worthy enough to look at it,” geto says as he snaps couple of pictures of your spread legs. the blush creeps up your cheeks and you hide behind your hands (suguru thinks it’s cute he can still manage to make you blush). once he’s satisfied with the results, he climbs back on top of you. geto looks at your fucked out face and thinks this is the only thing worth to be alive for right now. so he kisses you deep and hard hoping you can feel all of him in the kiss. you softly cup his face and kiss him back, tasting yourself on his lips.

suguru pushes himself back to sit down on his knees and takes in your naked body. you look up at him with the gaze full of adoration, hunger, longing and ache, and he is falling in love all over again. geto stands up from the bed and walks over to the bathroom to grab the towel, leaving the room for a minute shortly after to grab you a bottle of water you keep in your mini fridge. you whine lightly at the loss of his body near you but you’re not even given time to complain before suguru is back by your side in a record time.

“drink this, angel.”

“thank you, my love.”

“anything for you.”

he brings the cup to your lips and carefully tips it so you’re not choking on the water. once you down the full glass, he spreads your legs and cleans everything by gently swiping away the residual liquids. you let him take care of you in a way that’s comforting to him, turning you and cleaning you like a porcelain doll he’s scared of breaking.

suguru is always so gentle after sex. no matter how hard he fucks you or how overstimulated he may make you at times, the absolute tenderness in the way he treats you after never fails to tug at your heartstrings. once he determines you’re clean enough to go to sleep now, he throws the towel into your laundry basket and lies down besides you. you turn to face him and press a soothing kiss to his lips.

“i love you.”

“i love you too, sugu. now go to sleep, you need to rest.”

and with that, geto throws his arms around your waist, traps your legs with his legs and brings you so close as if he’s scared you will slip away.

sleep tight, princess. i will see you again in a new world.

“huh?”

“don’t make me repeat myself. suguru killed everyone in the village and…”

“i heard you the first time. that's why i said, "huh?"

you could see satoru was angry and in denial. and you cannot blame him, after all, he didn’t notice (or didn't want to notice) the abyss that was pulling suguru deeper and deeper every day, it’s no wonder he is in denial of what geto has done, what he has been contemplating of doing for the past year. sure, you wouldn’t have guessed he would take things this far but you saw the darkness slowly seeping through the broken crevices of his façade, you knew it was only a matter of time before he snaps. satoru kept saying something about how this cannot be true but his words sound as if they are coming through a vacuum.

your lack of response makes yaga turn to you. you can see his mouth moving but no words can be distinguished. he calls your name, and you try harder to concentrate on the next question.

“can you hear me? did you know about this?”

“are you asking me if i knew suguru would massacre 112 people?” you snap at him. taking a deep breath, you try controlling the bubbling emotions inside. geto has been on a radio silence for a full week now, and you can’t help but feel hurt and betrayed; and deep down you know that you would never be able to leave him, even if you knew about what he was going to do from the very beginning.

“that’s exactly what i’m asking.”

“no, i didn’t know that. i’d think you have more faith in me that just letting my boyfriend to go on a murder spree.” liar, you think to yourself, you’re such a fucking liar. faith does not mean anything to either of you anymore, and if suguru wanted you to open your chest and give him your heart for his amusement, or if he asked you to drench yourself in the blood of the people he murdered, you would do it in a heartbeat. “and before you ask, i don’t know where he is. he’s been ignoring my calls and messages ever since he took that mission.”

both satoru and yaga let out a deep exhale: satoru’s sounds defeated and almost broken (you think he might be trying to hold back tears); yaga’s is resigned and exhausted. no one speaks anymore, and the silent agreement is made to go separate ways for the day.

you don’t know how to feel about this whole situation. you think you feel hurt, betrayed, shocked. and you know that you’re the only person who feels this way not because suguru committed a crime worthy of death penalty but because he didn’t trust you enough to let you know about his plans in the first place. didn’t the past year two of you spent together show him the depth of your loyalty? did all of the nights spent tangled in sheets meant nothing? when you would let him do whatever he wanted to your body because being lost in the feeling of earthly pleasure was the only way he could feel grounded? you wanted to believe that all of that meant more than just him fucking you to oblivion to forget about the pain tearing him apart. should have you done it differently? maybe made him talk, open up, let you see inside his troubled mind? you’ve been trying to call him and message him every day ever since he ghosted you, and today’s discovery just made the pit inside your heart grow even bigger.

you finally reach your dorm room. you drop on your bed as soon as you step inside, clothes be damned, and grab suguru’s sweater he left on your chair, deeply inhaling his scent. you think about “i love you” he told you the last night you saw him a week ago; you think about all the times he kissed you so deeply, it felt like he was trying to carve out a home somewhere between your teeth. you think about his eyes, and the way they glistened with that special spark every time he looked at you. and you wonder if all of the significant memories of you together were only significant to you.

you body and mind feels heavy so you close your eyes and curl yourself into a fetal position, hugging suguru’s sweater even tighter. the tears start pooling in the corners of your eyes, and you don’t remember when was the last time that you cried yourself to sleep.

4:35pm

im sorry i haven’t said anything

4:35pm

but this was something i needed to do on my own

4:36pm

pls come to this address ill explain everything

4:36pm

[sent location]

suguru keeps staring at his phone screen. ever since he disappeared a week ago, he’s been ignoring your attempts to contact him. he wanted to make sure that the coast is clear, and all of the ties are cut off before he can contact you again. leaving his best friend behind was painful; but geto is not a child, and he understands that him and satoru will never see eye-to-eye on this matter. that’s why he had to say goodbye to him today the way he did. but leaving you behind? unimaginable. so he feels his anxiety bubbling up when he hasn’t received a response back to the messages he sent you 8 hours ago.

he feels a small tug on his sleeve.

“geto-sama?” a small voice is unsure and almost scared. he looks down at the dark-haired girl. mimiko. her big doe eyes glistening with tears and face is covered with bruises that still haven’t faded: his heart breaks at the sight and he is wondering about how long the abuse was going on for before he discovered them in a cage, locked away like animals. the mere thought of that place fills him with burning rage.

“yes?”

“when will we leave this place? nanako says it reminds her of our old house, and it’s scaring her,” mimiko whispers back. and it’s so quiet, it saddens geto again thinking how many times their little voices were never heard.

“we will leave soon, i promise.”

suguru looks out of the window of this abandoned building. he had to take a temporary cover here before he can figure out what happens next. his thoughts drift back to you. he’s wondering if you’ve been interrogated about his whereabouts yet, if they used any techniques on making you talk. he swears if any of the higher-ups got to you before he could figure out how to leave jujutsu high behind, the massacred village will be the least of their worries.

he wonders if he misread your constant acceptance in the past year. he wonders if you’ll come screaming at him too, asking why he did it and that maybe it’s not too late to come back. but what he is scared of the most is to see the fear in your eyes when you see him again: they should be scared of him, but not you, never you.

suguru thinks about the last night you spent together, and the i love yous exchanged in the darkness of the night. he knows he meant it, he’s sure you meant it too, so what is this sinking feeling growing deeper somewhere inside his ribcage? he thinks it’s fear but a different kind this time – he dreamt of building his new world with you by his side so now that he’s on the silent end of the phone, he fears he was wrong, yet again.

but before geto can drown any deeper in the overwhelming feeling of possible loss, he senses your cursed energy. he springs to his feet, and the very next minute, the door to the room where they are now creaks opened.

“suguru?” your voice pierces through the oppressive silence, and geto releases the breath he didn’t realize he was holding in. he crosses the room in three big steps and hugs you so tight, all the air from your lungs is immediately pushed out.

“god, i am so happy you’re here. i was worried you wouldn’t come when you didn’t respond to my messages.”

“baby, i had to get all of your stuff first, didn’t know if you needed anything, and i had to time when i sneak out without leaving any traces, higher-ups are on high alert now and… wait, you were worried i didn’t respond to your messages?” you point an accusatory finger at him. “what about all the messages and calls you ignored from me for the last week? what about the fact that i am finding out about whatever you’ve been doing from yaga out of all people? i thought you left me, i thought…” you stop yourself as your lips start trembling and you bite down on your lower lip to prevent the tears threatening to fall.

suguru looks at you in shock. he didn’t even consider the fact that this could be a sign of him abandoning you. because how could he? after everything you’ve done for him, unconditionally? after everything he's done for you? didn’t he make it clear that you’re stuck with him, for better or for worse, and that he does not intend on letting you go?

“i’m sorry, i should’ve thought about how things looked from your perspective. i am really glad you’re here now, i will never do something like this to you ever again, i promise,” and he cradles your face in his hands so gently, you really wonder if these are the same hands that are capable of murdering 112 people. “i love you, always and forever.”

“i love you too," he softly whispers. "by the way, i want you to meet someone,” he takes your hand in his and leads you further to the middle of the room. you're just now noticing another presence and then you see them: two little girls huddled together on a couch. they move their gaze from suguru to you as if confirming you're safe to approach.

"mimiko, nanako, this is my girlfriend," geto says your name and the girl slowly repeat it back. you squad down to bring yourself to their face level and gently smile.

"it's very nice to meet you, mimiko and nanako," you ruffle their hair, and suguru realizes that that's exactly the same thing that he did to them the first time he saw them. a warm feeling spreads inside his chest at this thought, something he hasn't felt in a while. "i hope we can be good friends soon!"

the girls are still shy and don't say anything back but they don't look as scared anymore. you bring yourself back to your full height and turn to suguru. he responds to your silent question.

"i saved them during the mission i went on last week. they were locked away in the cage, like goddamn animals," you can see the anger babbling up again so you just put your head in his chest and hug him. geto visibly relaxes and kisses the crown of your head.

"you're my new family now, i don't need anyone else," suguru says, and he fully means it. you don't bring up the real family he killed, or the friends he massacred in his village. you don't bring it up because it won't change a thing for you.

suguru cups your face again, leans down and kisses you on the lips like he has never kissed you before, or like he will never have a chance to kiss you again. it knocks the wind out of you, and your knees go weak so suguru needs to hold you upright. and no matter what anyone else might think or say, this feels right, being here enveloped in his arms, pressed against his chest, tasting nicotine on his tongue. you know this is exactly where you belong – in his arms, between his lips, in his heart, always and forever.

© rinniessance do not steal, plagiarize or translate my works. do not recommend me on tiktok, thank you

[saerotonins]

the love that came back

ft. nanami kento x fem!reader

"what more could you wish for?

when the love you once lost, came back into your arms again,"

content warnings: jjk shibuya arc spoilers, angst, fluff if you really squint, little dialogues, going through grief and depression, pure pain, just reader's life through her perspective, implied major character death, bittersweet, depictions of the afterlife, happy ending (i promise)

wc: 4,933

note: i'll just be letting my feelings out because we're about to mourn LMAO enjoy!

inspired by and best enjoyed with: this love by taylor swift

October 31, 2018

when you heard a knock on the door, you expected kento to great you with a smile on his face and a sweet kiss to your lips.

but what you got instead is shoko right in front of your doorstep, giving you the news that your fiancée lost his life in the middle of the war across shibuya— then you felt like your world had crumbled right before your very eyes. he had promised. he had promised to come home to you tonight and come trick-or-treating and give the kids around the neighborhood some candies.

kento never breaks his promises, especially when it comes to you.

but there's always a first time, as they say.

you felt your knees turn into jelly as you fall onto the floor, eyes wide, and heart incredibly shattered. you couldn't believe what you were hearing, this must be a sick fucking joke. there's no way the love of your life is just gone like that. he doesn't fucking deserve this.

"i'm so sorry, y/n," you hear shoko said as she guides your limp body to sit on the couch but you could hardly hear her between your ragged breaths and the ringing in your ears.

what would her apology do anyway? would that sorry bring him back? would that bring him to your arms once again? 

you feel your eyes swell with tears and let them fall off as they please. you wail in shoko's arms, you let out the loudest screams you ever let out in your entire life but none of those did anything to the amount of pain your heart is currently bearing. and for shoko, who has seen a fair share of gore and violence in her life, has never been so disturbed and heartbroken when she saw you wept and mourn for your lover.

that night when shoko left you on your own (not that she had the choice), you drank the fruit flavored champagne you usually sip with kento as he enjoys his whiskey, downing it like it was water but it tasted different.

there's this saying that alcohol tasted better when you're happy and around the people you cherish the most.

your sweet champagne started to taste bitter ever since, and a part of you died that day.

the days have gotten colder.

you miss the way kento's arms would wrap around you, you miss the warmth that he provided, something the heater in your shared home couldn't give.

you feel empty, everything has gone silent, and you hate it. at times like this, when kento is home, you would hear him hum with the vinyl he chose to listen to going along the silent rustle of either the newspaper or a book he had been looking forward to read.

now it's just silence. it's all new to you. you almost even forgot how your voice sounded like because you had no one to talk to.

for the past few weeks, your family and friends, even shoko had visited you to make sure you were okay. but whenever they try to initiate a conversation, they only get either a curt nod or nothing. they have also noticed the change you have been going through. the usual sparkle in your eyes gone, you've gone extremely quiet, your appetite has drastically changed, but they understood nonetheless. 

a few days ago, with the help of his family and from the mercy of any entity that existed out there, the jujutsu tech was able to retrieve kento's body, whatever is left, that is— cremated him and finally held a proper burial. that's the least he deserves.

you asked if you could keep some of his ashes in a little urn, and his family, bless their hearts, agreed as they know that both of you share the pain of losing a loved one. there, it sits in his study together with his pictured frame. another one also sits on your chest, a necklace that holds some of your beloved. a piece of reminder that you and him will still be together.

you walk towards back to the living room, seeing the mess that has been made because truthfully speaking, cleaning up the house was the least pf your problems when you had a lot going through. it has been really rough. every night, at 7 pm, you yearn for the knock of your door, kento's voice declaring his arrival, "hon, i'm home," he would usually say.

now, it's all gone. the clothes he had worn the previous days still in the laundry bags, untouched, for the fear that his scent might go away. 

it scares you. the thought of forgetting the sound of his voice, his smell, his warmth, his company, not being near your reach, terrifies you to the core. but you have to face it all. put on a brave face, live on a life where he doesn't exist anymore. but deep in your bones, your heart, and your soul.

he's still around.

he should be. he promised eternal life with you, willingly get on one knee to put on the prettiest engagement ring you had ever seen.

the saddest part is, he wouldn't be able to see you walk down the aisle. both of you had dreamt of a wedding so perfect. you designing your own gown that would compliment his, a small wedding enough for your family and closest friends, and a honeymoon trip to malaysia where you could just bask in each other's presence, forgetting everything and savor each moment.

he had promised you forever.

and kento never lies. 

but then again, there's always a first time.

it has been months. nothing has changed.

you still feel so empty. nothing has changed around the house either. sure, the living room is clean enough but the bedroom you once shared with kento stayed the same.

you refuse to wash his clothes that was in the laundry basket, you refused to wash the bedsheets, you refused to even make up his side of the bed. and despite how much you missed him, you refuse to sleep on his side of the bed, fearing that sleeping over his scent would lose him completely. it was exhausting to yearn for someone you know is not going back, but you do it anyway.

from the tailoring shop you own, many bride-to-be's are going in and out to pick out wedding dresses with their pretty engagement rings decorating their hand. it feels like a slap to the face, angering even. why do these women have to be so happy picking out the perfect wedding gown while you're out there sulking, stuck with what if's and what could have been.

what could have been your gown? his suit? what could have your wedding venue look like? what could have happen in your honeymoon?

and when you realize that it will always stay that way, it fills you with envy, but more so with sorrow.

it's so unfair to be mad at these people who were lucky enough to find the one but you couldn't help it.

you just also hate the pity smiles they give you when you answer their question, "when's your wedding?" once they caught a glimpse of the engagement ring kento gave you with, "my fiancée passed away," with a forced smile on your face. you're just thankful they don't push you to answer any more questions.

the ring kento gave you is one thing that you will never remove. aside from your necklace, this is a reminder that kento loved you enough to propose, to ask your hand in marriage. that may not be enough considering your situation, but it is something, so you keep it around anyway.

when the shop has finally closed for the day, you come home, sit on his study and sketch more of the wedding dress ideas that you had on your what could have been wedding with kento. you have gone through almost 3 journals sketching everything aside from the dresses. it was venues, suits that he could've worn, your dress, and of course sketches of the both of you walking down the aisle.

whenever you sketch, a tear falls down, then another, and another, until you cry a river all over the page, not caring if the lead from the pencil is barely there due to the wet pages or the ink from your pen is smudging. when you go back to the pages, you see it. you don't mind that it has become messy, it represents the feelings that you have. the yearning, the grieving, the sorrow of a what could've been wife to a what could've been husband.

more months pass by and it's still the same.

it's empty, it's all routine. you wake up, wash your face from the dried tears that you wept from the night before, shower, get dressed, go to kento's study just to admire his face from the picture frame where his urn is placed and say your goodbyes as you kiss his pretty face through the the frame and off you go to work.

it's clockwork, but you don't mind. it's one of the few things that kept you sane, but a deep burning hole in your heart still fire ablaze, waiting to be set off. you doubt it will happen, but some coping might help, so you pretend that you don't mind.

when the night comes, you still prepare meals enough for two, it's muscle memory, you seem to master making portions of two and you plan to keep it that way. it's one of the only ways that keeps you alive. you either save the other half on the fridge or give them to your neighbors.

you had also convinced yourself to wash the bedsheets, but you always remember to spray kento's cologne on his side so it feels like he never left, but his clothes on the laundry basket remains untouched. you have gone through multiple bottles of his favorite perfume from spraying almost every surface of the house, it's expensive but it doesn't matter. as long as it helps to keep his memory, you don't mind.

your friends and family visit you from time to time, to check up on you. they know you're just putting a smile on your face, it's obvious, because your eyes don't shine like they used to, but that's fine enough for them. they also noticed how the house strongly smells like him, but they don't complain anyway.

and as you close your eyes, you take one careful sniff of his pillow that you have grown accustomed to embracing every night (but you know it doesn't feel the same but it would suffice), and drift yourself to sleep as quiet tears fall down.

today is a pretty quiet day. you took a week off from the shop but you're lucky enough that your sister is more than willing to help you. you've been doing nothing but cleaning around the house, watching shows, doing strolls across the neighborhood, visiting parks, and mostly sleeping. it wasn't the most productive way of spending your days off but these are just the things you do with kento when he was still... alive.

it was usually lively when you do it, but now it's quite different. the hums he would usually do to accompany the vinyl he is playing and the quiet rustle whenever he turns a page on his books, all gone. the silence is so loud that you could swear you can hear a hair pin drop. you could only hear the swirls of the fan and your breaths. 

it's silent but it's deafening.

you stood up from the couch and decided to spend some time in his study. these months, you had been spending a lot of time there, doing whatever you can to bring some life into it. 

kento has always been an organized man, not a speck of dust present or a single item misplaced. but ever since, you always thought that it looked like no one was there to inhabit it anymore. so, with a silent apology, you try rearranging things around, keep his lounge and study chair warm but that's about it.

once you entered his study, you remembered that kento has a lot of books left unread. he has been planning to get around and read it. but now he can't, the thought just broke your heart.

skimming through his shelves that was adorned with many books, one caught your eye. it was slightly misplaced, leaning towards another book with a bookmark sticking out.

kim jiyoung, born 1982, it read.

you remember this book.

October 24, 2018

"dear," kento had called out as you were scrolling through your phone with your head on his lap.

"you should read this book sometime, i think you'll like it," he said, making the book cover more visible so you can read the title.

"kim jiyoung, born 1982?" you read out loud.

"yeah, it's a very powerful book from what i've read so far, i think you'll feel the same way about it,"

you hummed, with the busy schedule around the shop, you're not so sure, "i'll borrow it from you when i finally have the time, besides, you can finish reading it first and tell me your thoughts about it, how's that sound?" you say with a smile on your face.

"sounds like a plan, but i can read it a lot to you right now?" 

you like the idea he proposed, his voice is relaxing so you definitely won't mind.

"okay, but i like it better when you read it to me anyway," 

a small smile escaped from kento's lips as a playfully scoffs, "whatever you say."

you hear him clear his throat before reading, "when jiyoung was in fiftth grade..." 

for the next few pages, you felt your eyes grow heavier as you heard his soothing voice grow quiet and let yourself drift asleep.

you regret sleeping on his voice that day. if you would've known it was the last time you would hear him read a book to you, you would've listened more attentively, record his voice, and listen some more. you feel your lips quiver as you feel tears threatening to leave your eyes.

you pick up the book and opened the page where the bookmark sits and you realize he's almost halfway through. you remember him saying that he'll get back to reading it after halloween once his schedule opens up.

guess that will never happen.

you sit on the lounge chair on the drawer where his urn and picture frame is placed. through shaky hands, you remove the bookmark and open the book wider.

"kento, i'm sorry if my voice isn't as soothing as yours but i will try and help you finish this, so just listen and relax, alright?" you voice is shaky and cracking, and you hope he won't mind, you he will listen just like you did, you hope he closes his eyes and rest wherever he is.

after releasing a ragged sigh, you read, "jiyoung's mother received information that the new..."

as you read through the pages, your ready becomes more and more sloppy, sometimes having to repeat sentences or words when you feel like you didn't say them properly. some of its pages soaked with your tears, and take deep breathes when the pain is caught up in your throat. you give kento a silent apology for ruining his books. 

and you hope it's enough, because that's all you can do.

hope.

from then on, you finish book after book during your free time, slowly going through the unread books across his shelves. as time passes by, you may have gone through a lot of his books but reading them never goes easier. every time, you would flood the pages with tears, your breaths are never steady, and by the end of every reading, you would hug the book and close your eyes, sometimes creasing some of its parts.

and you hope he doesn't mind.

July 03, 2019

this is his first birthday that you would have to celebrate alone. and the thought breaks your heart.

as you set the cake on the table beside his picture frame and light the numbered candles.

you blankly at the flames on the cake. he would've been 28 today.

you take a very deep breath and started to sing.

"happy birthday to you," tears started forming in your eyes, singing the song out of tune and through your shaky breaths, "happy birthday to you,"

"happy birthday, my dearest kento," you take another deep breath.

"happy birthday to you." you sang for the last time before blowing out his candles.

another deep sigh. you kiss the pendant that sits on your chest, "i love you," and then the engagement ring on your ring finger, "so, so, much."

from then on, every time the 3rd of july comes around the corner, it becomes clockwork. you sing, blow the candles, kiss the pendant and the ring, and eat the cake all alone. 

it never gets any better, though.

through the years you watch the numbers from the candles grow older.

but you know deep inside he doesn't. the ticking of his clock has stopped.

and so did yours.

October 31, 2019

you dreaded this day to come. on the same year, you managed to come across both of kento's firsts.

his first birthday without him celebrating with you and his first death anniversary.

ever since his funeral, you never had the will in you to actually visit his grave, where his family decided to bury his ashes. you were a coward, you admit.

but losing someone you loved the most is never that easy to get over with.

having to come face to face with your lover's grave is no easy task. you touch the tombstone where his name is engraved.

Nanami Kento

July 03, 1990-October 31, 2018

your soul will always be in our hearts

you sit onto the green grass, put your arms on his tombstone and rested your head over it.

for a while it was silent.

until a rain of tears eventually dropped.

"you're so unfair, kento," you said. your voice hoarse but considerably unnoticed as the pain took over. "you said you'd come home to me, but you didn't," you don't care if there were other people around you, you need to let go of the bottled-up feelings you had for the past year. and so you wail, and wail, and wail, and yell about how much of an asshole he is for leaving you alone. cursing every entity that exists for not protecting your beloved enough. the anger through your voice seeps in but you know deep inside that he's not an asshole. you're just mad and you don't have any way to cope but this.

but your cries have been met with silence, a daily reminder that he's really not here with you. and it breaks you. 

"i love you so much, i miss you so much, i'm sorry for being mean. rest well, my beloved, you have done so much." you say and seal it with a kiss before going back home, if you could still call it that.

every year when this dreaded day arrives, you pick yourself up and go to his gravesite. but this time, you spend your time telling him new hobbies you picked up on, adventures you've gone through, and stories that you have already told him before.

when he was still around, he would ask some questions and reply with either a comment or a laugh.

but this time you were only met with silence.

conversations with him never sounded the same.

20XX

years had gone by without him. you didn't know how you did it either. every day is a new pain that you have to face but you suck it up anyway.

tonight is just a typical night, you were tired from managing the shop and just finished reading kento a book. nonetheless, you prepare yourself a meal as you feel your stomach growling.

as you sit down at the dinner table, you notice something incredibly wrong.

this is the first time you have prepared a portion enough for one.

that thought alone terrified you to the core.

every night you miss his voice still. you wish the voice messages that he left you on the phone would suffice but they didn't. through the phone, his voice doesn't sound as soft and as caring compared to what you usually hear when he's around. but it's not like you can do anything about it, can you?

you have gone through every voice message that he sent you, hundreds and hundreds of them, but you never get tired of it. it has been your lullaby for the past years. you convince yourself that this is the same as when you hear his words fresh from his lips, but you know it's not. it will never be the same. you miss the sound of his actual voice. every laughter, every chuckle, every syllable that escapes his mouth, you miss it. 

the sound from your device isn't as comforting as it was, and it scares you to think that at some point, you will forget what his actual voice sounds like. you didn't like that thought one bit. 

he had flooded your senses. his touch, his smell, his voice, his love, it had invade all of you and has become a part of you and you're afraid that one of those will be forgotten so you desperately try to keep everything alive. 

even when he's not.

you're old now. wrinkles have adorned your whole body and you're not as strong as you used to.

but your love towards kento remained the same. it has become stronger, in fact. being old sometimes makes your memories a bit blurry but everything about your lover is something that you could never forget.

you browse through your photos in the album that has been left. you stroke through his pictures like you can still feel the heat through his skin. you miss the feel of his sharp features and the soft gaze of his eyes. you miss the way he would kiss every part of you and show you how much he loves you in every way possible.

everything still feels like it's yesterday. while everybody moved on, you stayed. deep inside you're still living in a time where kento was existing. you know he would've loved your nephews, nieces, and your grandchildren.

after him, you never loved anyone. you could never love anyone other than him. how could you, when he's all that plagued your mind, you keep on trying to keep his legacy alive, not a part of him forgotten, that he will always be remembered. 

you've been diagnosed a chronic heart disease, but whenever a pain pangs in your heart, you're sure it's not your illness, but the pain of being left alone by a lover who swore to stay by your side.

you know you don't have much time left, and you have come to terms with it, happy, even. you want to meet your lover once again. you want to see kento right before your very eyes and reach him just like you did in your youth.

so by the summer, you have decided to visit kuantan, malaysia with your family.

it's the place you wanted to avoid the most but you know now for sure you're brave enough to visit it. he would've wanted you to go here, he wanted to go here. even if you're a little late, you're glad to make it just in time.

your eldest granddaughter have been guiding you along the shore. you bask in the fresh air and the sound of the waves from the ocean. every thing is so peaceful, but you wish kento was here to witness it with you.

you inhale the air with a weak smile in your face.

one of your nephews then had helped you tuck in for the night.

it was so peaceful. and for the first time in years, you have finally let out a big and genuine smile.

you feel your eyes getting heavy and you know it's going to be the last. and you've never felt any happier.

October 31, 20XX

you have finally died twice.

you were finally buried next to the love of your life. 

in your funeral, your family used the picture you took a long time ago, back when you were 27, mourning and incredibly heartbroken for the lost of your lover.

the kind elderly photographer from the studio you took your photo from was confused as to why you could have been taking one while you're young and looking healthy.

"i don't want to pry sweetheart, but if you're still young and healthy, why are you taking a picture now?" she asked, but you don't mind it one bit.

"when i die i want to look like me and my husband were the same age," you answered with a big smile on your face.

since i too, died that day, you would add but decided against it.

the lady seems taken aback but appreciates the sentiment behind it anyway.

you let out a wide smile so that when both of your pictures are put beside each other, it would look like the one you wore when he was still around. 

when you opened your eyes, you were greeted by the blue sky and a fresh breeze of air. you felt the grass tickle against your skin and it was pleasant. when you get up, you feel your body get lighter, it's as if you weren't old, that you were back from your youth. you looked on your arms and every wrinkle that you remember being present there was all gone.

you look around you and you see a very pleasant scenery. there were trees around and from far away, the splashes of the ocean can be heard. for some reason, everything feels light, including your heart. some butterflies swarm around you like you were a flower, you reach your hand out, letting some of them sit on the tip of your finger.

you were enjoying the company of the butterflies and taking in the beautiful scene before you.

"darling," 

you hear a very familiar voice, and your eyes immediately widen

this isn't a dream right? this is really happening, right?

you whip your head towards the direction of the voice and there you see it.

your lover, your soul, the love of your life, nanami kento.

he looks so ethereal, so peaceful, especially with the soft smile spread across his face.

you're dumbfounded but you take a step, and then another, and another, until you ran your way across the grassy field and leap into his arms. and it was—

oh.

it was so warm. just like how you remembered. you feel your tears fall from your face and weep as you bury your face on the crook of his neck. you decide to take it all in. you inhale his scent, one you have been longing for years, your hug tightens around him. oh he feels so warm. so, so, warm. it's like time has never gone by.

"i'm so sorry," kento said, apology obvious from his voice, "i'm so sorry i was weak—"

"no!" you say as you immediately face him.

"do not say that darling, don't, i know you have fought long and hard enough," you carefully lift your hand to touch his pretty face. you were shaking but you were careful, like he was something fragile, something you're afraid to break. when you finally place it on his face, he immediately leans towards your touch. "t-this is real, right?" he nods, his smile growing much wider, "we don't have to be apart any longer," kento declared with full confidence.

that sentence alone urged you to chase his lips onto yours, the kiss was full of yearning, it was passionate but never aggressive. all of those years, you share silent longings and the hurt between your lips. kento pulled you deeper into the kiss but he was careful enough to handle you gently. every apology was spilled onto both of your lips as you felt tears stream across his face, and that's how you knew he longed for you as you did for him.

without words, you knew how much kento appreciated you for keeping his memories alive. it was enough for you to know that he listened to every word you let out as you read the books in his study, every word that you sang during his birthdays, and every word that you let out whenever you visited his grave. he knew all of it. he watched you weep in sorrow which broke his heart because he doesn't know how to comfort you, but he greatly loved and cherished every gesture. and so, it is his turn to return all of it back to you. 

and he now has forever to give you.

without words, you know what his lips spelled against yours.

i love you.

for once, the love that was once lost, the love that you had to let go free—

finally came back to you.

both of you have finally turned 28.

then, you feel the clock started ticking again until eternal ends.

another note: this is officially the first fic i wrote and i hope everyone enjoyed reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it. i feel like this piece will always be so dear in my heart. rest in peace, my beloved nanami kento, you have fought long and hard. 

[lxmelle]

Love is the greatest curse of all… Damned if you love and Damned if you don’t.

What does it mean to be Human? It’s an extremely valid question posed by Yuta. Megumi didn’t think they were heroes and felt he had no option but to make personal choices. Yuji wanted his life and death to have some significance and save people. Todo says they have to keep going regardless of tragedy. Sukuna says it’s best to be unattached to all things as they’re all worthless. Gojo had a dream that was largely affected by Geto - about never leaving anyone alone for the new generation.

Is being human, to know love? Regardless of their strength? Kusakabe thinking of Yaga who helped the sister he loved, in her grief over her beloved son. Larue and Miguel with their love for Geto. The kids and their friendships with one another. Gojo, Yuta - knowing the taste of loneliness. Geto, knowing the taste of grief. The underside of love.

Back to stsg for a moment because that’s my unhealthy obsession brainrot

If Geto loved Gojo enough to tell him, he would’ve led him down a bloody path. If Geto loved him enough to leave him, it’d have led him down a lonely path.

If Gojo loved Geto enough to join him, it would’ve led them both down a morally-/societally-disapproving path. If Gojo loved Geto enough to let him go, it would’ve allowed him to go down a lonely path.

Yuta knew the pain of pure innocent love and how it bound Rika to his soul. But in doing so, he granted her the best happiness she ever experienced in her entire existence. Was it because she had meaning? Her overwhelming love for Yuta meant she could kill and hurt others for the sake of love? What a cursed existence even as a spirit. It hurt Yuta.

He loved her enough to desire not to let her go, but this cursed them both. In loving his newfound friends enough, he sacrificed himself and was lucky to survive it and freed the cursed Rika. But this then led him to bear the curse of loving others … in the endless cycle of “you’re Damned if you do, Damned if you don’t”.

Because Yuta loves and empathises, he sees Gojo. Humanity. Compassion. To be able to connect to those above and beneath his feet, in contrast to Hajime and Sukuna who both pursued strength alone. He understood the weight and enormity of love and the sacrifice that comes with it. He saw the impact of being a monster and the only one who was chained to his role despite being able to supposedly do everything, but actually felt like he could do nothing.

Not the things that Gojo really wanted anyway (ugh. The tragedy of his life T_T). He couldn’t spare Geto. Geto didn’t want to be spared and left him to handle it all at Jujutau High while he tried to single-handedly take on Gojo’s role and change the world.

Gojo was left behind. I think his view of their separation morphed over time too. He wanted to change the sorcerer world too, in a different way that wasn’t as drastic.

Maybe at first he wondered if Geto felt left behind in the face of his unparalleled strength, (the strongest, alone), telling Megumi that he should be strong, keep up and not get left behind. After all, he and Geto had that “talk” breakup and he decided to become a teacher to try and save those who wanted to be saved.

As Megumi grew, he had more students, and Yuta came along, it was about the protection of their youth. Just like he had his blue spring that was so precious to him. It was also what Geto gave him and the reason he had to stop and kill Geto, because he encroached on the principles he tried to uphold himself - not to kill young sorcerers. Geto couldn’t completely abandon all of his humanity and kill Yuta and Gojo spared him the continuous suffering and ended his life.

Then, not leaving anyone behind to be lonely. He would see to it that the next generation wouldn’t suffer like he and Geto and Nanami did.

And finally, he wished to catch up to Geto, after being left behind when Geto chose to become a monster himself.

In Buddhism, detachment is sometimes seen as the penultimate “enlightenment”. But it’s ironic because the more one aspires to become enlightened, the more selfish they inherently become. Because, we do not live in isolation. What is the worth of enlightenment?

Gojo’s enlightenment was costly. He was alone as a tool.

Sukuna’s is disastrous. He embodies a twisted form of enlightenment where he sees responding to love as compassionate through killing his opponents.

Yuta’s is now... tragic.

Megumi had tried to choose who to be compassionate towards. He admired those like Tsumiki who were kind, and like Yuji. Kind - as was Geto. And Yuta. Too kind that they would be willing to sell/soil themselves for the sake of who they loved.

Yuji’s compassion as a vessel was also wholly self-sacrificial.

How does one really retain any form of love or compassion in a world like jjk? When loving anything or anyone seems to cost them dearly? Is that the price of humanity? To love is to hurt?

It’s also interesting how Geto, from human origin, focuses on eliminating humans as the source of cursed spirits... and Gojo, from elite sorcerer origin, focuses on eliminating the higher-ups who were the source of twisted rules within the society.

Anyway. Just rambling a little... I’m still trying to process it all. Jjk is some kind of crazy masterpiece.

[duckiemimi]

https://www.tumblr.com/jgnico/729415078056755200/stop-taking-nanamis-words-for-why-gojo-did-what

Hey mimi!! Hope ur having a nice day!! I really love your thoughts and metas its a very insightful!!! And ur fanfics god i hold them so tenderly in my hands each time i read them!! thank you for making them!! And i wanted to ask: whats your thoughts on this ?

i’m so sorry this reply is so late, i’ve been a little busy these days 😭 but i love this post so much! it’s so well-written and well-articulated!

most people in the story don’t understand gojo; the whole point of 236 was to hammer that home. gojo died misunderstood. (well—if you don’t count geto understanding him, i guess. and some of his students try to, his friends, too, but that’s besides the point. most people didn’t. doesn’t mean they were incapable of loving him, though.)

i understand nanami’s sentiments here. to nanami, gojo was the guy who could’ve solved everything, who could’ve prevented deaths, who could’ve prevented haibara’s death. to nanami, gojo was the embodiment of the system. of idle power. it’s a little similar to geto’s point of view in shinjuku: why the hell should he try and sympathize with someone who can do it all? gojo is different. he’s not like us.

really, i believe most of the characters in the story feel this way about him, this attitude of begrudging hope because though he is an enigma in their eyes, he is also a beacon of hope because if gojo exists, then a better world is possible. they see the idea of him before they see him for who he actually is. they see his dictated role before they see him.

but here’s the thing: gojo is readable to us. as readers of the story, we should be able to understand him and what motivates him, we should be able to understand his alienation and loneliness more than anyone in the story. because he is wholly readable and thus knowable, because we see the things the other characters don’t. we should know him by how he was written, not by other characters’ perception of him. that’s subsidiary.

(if anything, other than supplementary information on gojo, the characters’ opinions on him tell us more about them and the world they live in, not about gojo.)

i think this juxtaposition between the perception of gojo and just gojo himself is best shown in his conversation with geto. there, he talks about being familiar with isolation (his metaphorical infinity) and his longing to be understood. right after, nanami chimes in and offers his opinion about gojo. i do think the writing could’ve been done more effectively (after all, the chronology makes the scene a little confusing), but it’s still plainly written for us to read.

gojo’s efforts to better the system shouldn’t be wiped off the board just because nanami said he fought for fun. we know him, we’ve read him, we’ve witnessed him give second chances to kids who’ve lost hope. we’ve seen gojo’s care. i don’t think this is a case of just selfishness or just selflessness. don’t fall into the trap of black and white thinking.

gojo was jujutsu’s pillar. i imagine if you grow up with enough people telling you who you are—what you are, really—you’d start to internalize it and learn your role. to his core, gojo was a guy who never acknowledged his subconscious and what lay beneath it because of this. a mental infinity, a metaphorical infinity. almost there but not quite; he never got to the root of things, whether it be changing the system or figuring out why he was the way he was. he was never thorough. (isn’t that why “geto” came back anyway? because he didn’t “finish the job”?)

but, hey—his given name is satoru (enlightenment). perhaps there’s more to his story.

(or maybe he died in irony.)

[polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup]

Oh my *god, in most recent chapter of Sea Glass Gardens, the line “It would make sense, being afraid of the nuclear boy. He didn’t mean to make them afraid,” shattered my heart into approximately seventeen million pieces. I think I audibly sucked in a breath when I first read it. Absolute devastation. God, it’s fantastic!! I want to shake your Yuuta like an etch-a-sketch ❤️

See, I really like that line because it really does go to what an unreliable narrator Yuuta is. Nanami and Shoko weren’t afraid of Yuuta. If anything, they were afraid for Yuuta.

Yuuta’s deeply uncomfortable and embarrassed with what he’s experiencing. First, he’s aware that his emotions towards Megumi have exploded past what would normally be acceptable. Which, again, isn’t his fault. It’s a direct side effect of the level of reverse cursed energy he used on Megumi.

I’ve said this in several other places, but this was partially inspired by when I got concussed out of my mind and lost all emotional control. I never cry normally and then I spent weeks weeping and having violent outbursts against my own alarm in the morning. It can be kind of alarming to normally have very solid control of yourself and then completely lose it. It kind of gives me body horror vibes.

I also just like the JJK theme of nothing’s free. And while this isn’t exactly a direct cost imposed, it does impose a negative consequence on gaining reverse cursed energy. Sure, you can heal anyone, but it may destabilise you in an embarrassing way that doesn’t have a way to heal.

And the thing is that it makes Yuuta feel like he’s to blame even if he objectively isn’t.

Overwhelming or driving love that doesn’t have a basis in reality just makes me really uncomfortable, personally. Like, you know that love isn't genuine because it can't possibly be sourced in the person themself. Love can make for an incredibly interesting or compelling motivation or conflict in a story, but if you want love to be healthy (and real), you really need it to be sourced in actual, established knowledge of a person. It's sort of what Maki is talking about at the end of the chapter--there's no such thing as soulmates. Love is a thing you build.

**Minor Spoilers for the manga in this paragraph** It's honestly one of the reasons why I didn't like Hana just as a character design. Just so much of her character and motivation centered on her feelings for Megumi, and she didn't know Megumi. Sure, he saved her as a kid, but she knew nothing of his personality, his likes or dislikes. That kind of sort of baseless affection just makes me uncomfortable. You say that you love them but who do you even think they are?

Which begs the question as to why I just used it in my own work.

When I say a trope or character dynamic makes me uncomfortable, it's almost never absolute. It's up to how it's treated by the narrative. Like, I hate it when it's played straight or genuine, because it can make for a really unhealthy dynamic but the narrative for some reason insists on it being played as a good thing. But Death Note used this exact device with Misa Amane, and I loved it, because how wrong and unhealthy it was was the entire point. The narrative never tried to sell Misa's love for Light as a good thing or as a genuine emotional bond between them. He was always a fantasy to her, and it came to their mutual detriment because it led to her being manipulated and used by him and him having to. be near her.

Yuuta’s emotional response to Megumi is a legitimate source of distress for him. It was never genuine. I wanted there to be some kind of consequence or cost for reverse cursed energy. Since cursed energy is so heavily tied to emotions—both with how negative emotions builds up into curses, and with how being near cursed energy results in ominous feelings—I thought it’d be appropriate to have the opposite emotional response from positive energy.

I also thought that canon just barely had enough room for it to be a possibility. We only see one instance of reverse cursed energy being consciously learned (since Yuuta’s original use of it was canonically subconscious and while in a state of intense emotional distress), and that’s Gojo after his fight with Toji. He was high. He felt amazing, to the point where he couldn’t even feel anything about Riko’s death. Like, yeah, I assumed (and I think most people did) that was some kind of reaction with his Six Eyes and unlocking his full potential, but I don’t remember it ever being explicitly stated. I decided there was space to say that was a reaction to using RCT on a mass scale.

Which is why Yuuta actually says the exact same line as Gojo at one point: The world just feels so damn good right now.

But it just didn’t really do anything narratively to have him feel like he was high or like, seeing shrimp colors the way Gojo did. It didn’t make for compelling conflict. All it would do was have him act completely out of it and a bit looney in the aftermath, and that 1) would have been tonally dissonant with the more serious conversations that needed to follow and 2) would realistically lead him to be cut out of the loop entirely. Like, thank you for your service, Yuuta, everyone’s impossibly grateful to you for restarting Megumi’s heart, but you’re high as fuck and need to go lie down until you start existing on the same spectrum as the rest of humanity again. Please leave the room, guy who is the sole narrator of the fic. We sure don’t need you there, seeing everything.

So I also decided that there was space for tailored responses to positive energy. After all, cursed energy feels different by user, to the point where people can recognize the person it originated from just by how it feels. So I decided that it wasn’t just that positive energy made you feel amazingly good—it made you feel whatever positive emotion felt best to you.

And Yuuta, who had always been so very lonely, suddenly felt that he was not alone.

It wasn’t even that the reverse cursed energy made him specifically love Megumi, per se. It’s more that his brain filled in the blanks. Like, our own brains will lie to us all the time. It was being bombarded with an overwhelming sense of youarefinallynotaloneyouarefinallynotaloneyouarefinallyfinallynotalone, and his own brain filled in the gaps by tying that sense to Megumi, who it seemed to be most directly related to.

It was never real love. It couldn’t be. Yuuta didn’t know him. And Yuuta knew that, logically, but there was just nothing he could do to stop the feeling.

Now, a lot of people would look at that irrational, unprecedented emotional response and say “wow, something is medically wrong with me” and consult a doctor. I actually realized that my concussion was way worse than I thought it was because I could not stop weeping over minor inconveniences and I was like “what the fuck? I am never like this” and went back to the urgent care.

But I didn’t think Yuuta would, because I think Yuuta views his love fundamentally as a bad thing that happens to other people.

Yuuta repeatedly blames himself for things that honestly aren’t really his fault. Rika is the biggest example of it. He blames himself for everything that happened to her, but honestly? He was a little boy who just had his best friend mowed down in front of him. He didn’t even know that he had powers. The only thing he did was just… not want her to die.

This isn’t a habit he’s shaken by the end of JJK0. When he finds out that he cursed Rika, the first thing he says is that it’s all his fault. Not just for her, but for the people that got hurt. For Geto coming after him and almost killing his friends.

Which is a fucking wild takeaway. “It’s my fault that grown man planned and executed my premeditated murder and my friends got hurt voluntarily attempting to save me.” Like. Yuutas not to blame for any of that shit. He blamed himself instead of the adult man who tried to kill him.

Yuuta blaming himself for his irrational emotions around Megumi is just an extension of his own self-hate and tendency to take responsibility for things outside of his control. He’s waiting for his love to be a bad thing again. He gets this irrational, uncontrollable surge of affection around Megumi, and all he can think is “please don’t let me hurt you too”. He keeps insisting that he won’t hurt Megumi because he’s the one concerned about that.

Which is the sort of tint cast over his reading of everything else. He sees Nanami and Shoko’s concern, and he superimposes on a fear of him instead of for him. It’s not accurate at all; he’s just an unreliable narrator.

Nanami and Shoko are actually the most predisposed to be sympathetic to yuuta—shoko went through this herself, and Nanami watched it happen. They’re never worried he’ll hurt Megumi; they’re worried he’ll hurt himself.

And of course they are. Yuuta is visibly distressed, and they can’t give him anything to help. But Yuuta is, fundamentally, an unreliable narrator. He filters what’s happening through his own mental state, which is never good.

[dxllhcuse]

🎧 //nanami~ :3c

Send 🎧 for a random song from my character's playlist and the reason(s) why I associate it with my muse! | | Accepting 

La llorona by Steampianist 

A song that is based of Mexican folklore la llorona. It is a song that explains how a mother grieves for their sons as she drowned them in the river. You can quite see some similarities between them as Nanami also dealt with the fact she drowned her kids. My reason for this song being associated with my muse is because of just how similar situation nanami have went through.  Ofc I have the tldr incase if anyone would like it

“Her screams lights up the night. Her face fills you with fright”

Nanami have a certain ability that getting near her or even if you step into her boundaries can release a screeching screaming of a noise that can cause deafness to anyone. Her noise also can able to attract any demon slayer into trying to be near her ignoring that fact that they’re drowning. Her appearance and singing alone, attract many poor unsuspecting demon slayers to their death. 

“She warned them of the dive. She prayed that one survived, Yet none of them arrived.”

Although Nanami was aware that she drowned on of her child, what she didn’t expect is her second child to not survive the fall. She expected that maybe both can able to die together or at least die in her own hands. As she fall she was separated by her baby from a tree branch.

“She walks, hands dripping wet, she looks really upset. She was never a threat, yet no one will forget. For them, they've lost their lives, she warned them of the dive”

Pretty much obvious it shows Nanami coming out of the water, upset at everything. She just turned into a demon and still have her memories. She remember how many people didn’t believe her reasons, Her family doesn’t listen to her, her husband never treated her right. All of this anger and frustrations she have in the inside now is spilled. Being a demon was something that cause her anger to lash out.

“Her insanity grows, just as the river flows and flows”

Just like I said previously for Kuroyuri, this quote represent the human life and demon life that Nanami have to linger on. I also like how it adds to her theme being a former water hashira. Water can look beautiful,relaxing and very refreshing to see, but they can also be dangerous.

“La Llorona, qué pasó. Por qué lloras, mi amor. Y los niños, dónde están, En el río... duermen ya”

It is translated to “The weeping woman what happen? Why are you crying my love? And the children, where are they? In the river where they sleep now.”

The bridge from the song can also be associated with Nanami just confessing everything of what she have done. Maybe that could be her last breath before she dies or maybe not, who knows.

TLDR; This song basically talks about what she did to her children and the aftermath when she becomes a demon. Although she never expressed any emotion and her memories are gone, she still mourn the death of her children. 

[kentosovertime]

prompt: jjk christmas headcanons + smutty drabble

wc: 2k words

characters: fushiguro megumi, itadori yuji, gojo satoru, and nanami kento

cw: explicit and suggestive content, slight angst, fluff, characters are aged up, canon divergent, nothing is sad and no one dies

a/n: merry christmas and happy holidays <3 i am back from hiatus! please enjoy some smutty christmas hcs/drabbles (never done this format before, let me know if you like it!) while i get back into writing my normal dark/questionable content

✨Masterlist | Tag List ✨

☆𝕗𝕦𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕘𝕦𝕣𝕠 𝕞𝕖𝕘𝕦𝕞𝕚☆

Megumi didn’t grow up celebrating Christmas as a kid. Between his mother passing, his father abandoning them, and his love/hate relationship with his step-sister when they were younger, he never really saw the point.

Being Gojo’s adoptive son after his father's death definitely didn’t help, the blatant materialism always annoyed the hell out of him, especially when people lumped his birthday in with the holiday due to its proximity

That slowly changed during his time enrolled at jujutsu tech, between yuji obsession with the holiday and nobara’s spending habits he had the holiday practically forced upon him every December

But for the first time he was celebrating it for all the right reasons

And when he met you in college, when he fell in love with you and eventually married you, he finally felt like this time of year had a true purpose…

After all of these years by his side, you were still amused by the pained look on his face as he looked at the sheer size of the crowd. You knew that he only came to the Christmas light show with you because you had been talking about it for weeks.

He takes one look at you and grumbles. “God there are too many people…” Which has you grinning to yourself... you know him too well.

You’re not without your pity though, you pull him to the side to wait for a break in the crowd you could slip into so you could walk through the light show with more personal space. You were mesmerized by the lights, watching intently as they were programmed to sync up with the Christmas tunes that were playing over the speakers.

It takes a few songs, but you notice a break in the crowd passing through, mostly filled with small children with their moms and dads taking their time to stroll through the show. You grab onto his sleeve and start to make your way back to enjoy what you came here to see.

When he doesn’t respond to your tugging towards the opening, you look up at him, noticing his eyes gleaming as his gaze is focused on the families instead of the lights around you.

He must have zoned out. At least that’s what you tell yourself until you get back to the parked car when he proves otherwise.

Once you open the back seat to throw your purse in, you are suddenly herded onto the cold leather of the back seat.

“Megs? What has g-gotten into you?” He buries his face into the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent and biting down lightly onto the sweet spot just beneath your ear, before pulling down your pants just enough to get access to your sweet center when he pushes your legs into a press.

“I think it's about time we have a little Fushiguro running around for Christmas next year…” He doesn’t give you a moment to think about his words before he shoving into you, fucking you raw to make his wishes come true. “Can you do that for me, wife?”

☆𝕚𝕥𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕣𝕚 𝕪𝕦𝕛𝕚☆

Like Megumi, Yuji didn’t have a lot of opportunities to celebrate Christmas. Gramps wasn’t exactly a bundle of holiday cheer.

Unlike Megumi, Yuji is obsessed with Christmas and he makes sure everyone is perfectly aware of how far this obsession goes.

He loves making sure everyone special in his life gets the perfect gift, especially you, the light and love of his life.

You always loved the gifts he gave you, but that never really got rid of the pressure of getting you just the right thing

He was thinking about how much you mean to him and how much thought he wanted to show he put into your gift when he came up with the perfect idea...

He feels his cheeks warm at your uncontrolled giggling as you unwrapped yet another box within a box.

“Yujiiii!” You whined kind heartedly, secretly loving the slight prank he had pulled on you. You were on the fifth box within a box before you finally thought you felt something more dense sliding around in the box you had just unwrapped. “Is this the last one?”

He grins, quickly kissing your forehead, leaning over from where he sat next to you on the floor in front of the tree, before hitting you with, “I don’t know… looks like you’ll have to unwrap it to find out.”

You thank whatever god is out there that it was; you were too excited to see what he got you. Last year, he had printed out and made a collage of your couple photos to decorate your new apartment together, the year before that he made you a jar full of 365 reasons he loves and cherishes you, one to open every day for a year. You still had them all, keeping them in the same jar they were gifted to you in.

The homemade collection of paper you pull out has you furrowing your brow as you try to figure out what it is, it looks like a book of some sort.

“Open it up, babe.” He prompts you, his thumb rubs on your brow lightly, getting rid of the crease of confusion as you flip open the first page.

One free thirty minute back massage.

I have to tell you five things I appreciate you for.

Five consecutive orgasms.

All of these were beautifully scrawled in his handwriting, colored and themed to the Christmas season. They were redeemable relationship coupons to give to him at any time for a reward. Your heart warms as you flip through hundreds of handmade coupons, your eye catching one in particular.

You quickly rip it out before he can see which one, straddling his lap and pushing him back onto the floor so you can look down at his shocked face. You take a minute to savor the feeling of his toned body beneath yours, trailing a finger slowly down his chest.

“This one first.” You grin, holding the slip in front of his face to read. “Merry Christmas to me, baby!”

Sit on my face until you squirt.

Yuji groans beneath you, instantly throbbing in his pants. You smell like sugar cookies... he bets you taste like them too.

☆𝕘𝕠𝕛𝕠 𝕤𝕒𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕦☆

You had spent the entire work holiday party avoiding him, letting out sighs of relief when you managed to avoid his gaze or when he was stopped before he could finish approaching you, something clutched in his large hands you loved so dearly

You didn’t want to stick around long enough to figure it out what it was, you can see the gears turning behind his eyes, a chaotic gleam shining from his gaze

Its not that you weren’t enjoying the recent increase in your time together, but you didn’t want to deal with childish behavior tonight, especially not in front of the higher ups of the jujutsu world

By the end of the night, you had thought you had skated by and were in the clear…

You let out a yelp of surprise when a hand closes around your wrist hauling you into the bathroom, slamming the door closed as your back hits the surface behind you. You feel instinct kick in as you try to free yourself from the grip.

“Baby…” You hear Gojo whine, his pout evident before your gaze even has the opportunity to meet his face. “Why are you avoiding me?”

“I’m not…” You’re too distracted by the breath leaving your lungs at the sight of his dazzling smile when the fake pout slips from his features and the feeling of his hips pressed against yours to notice what he’s holding above your head.

“Do you hate me now?”The insistent shaking above you drags your stare to the bundle of mistletoe clasped between the pads of his fingers. “Jus’ wanna let everyone know you’re mine, Y/N…"

“You didn’t hate me when I was balls deep in you this morning…” He coos, satisfied with the small whimpers starting to fall from your soft lips as his hand slips under the waistband of your pants, pushing his fingers past your underwear to sink into you without preamble.

“Maybe this shit doesn’t work…” You watch through half lidded eyes as he tosses the plant behind him, discarding it on the floor as it was no longer useful.

He leans in, pressing his full body against you, caging you fully between him and the door while he continues to lazily thrust his digits into your soaked heat, never quite giving you what you want. “Or maybe a different pair of lips need a kiss.”

☆𝕟𝕒𝕟𝕒𝕞𝕚 𝕜𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕠☆

Ken has always valued his time away from work with you during the holidays, especially with how little he gets to see you the rest of the year between your differing schedules.

He hadn’t failed to notice the way your face fell at the mention of him not coming home another night until well after you’d be asleep.

But you were endlessly patient with him, knowing he was working hard so the two of you could have a good life together.

He would make sure you have a couple weeks off to celebrate your favorite holiday together, going as far as arranging the time off with your boss so he can treat you to a surprise

You’re wrong if you think you’d be relaxing around the apartment for the new year when he has the funds and the time to take you somewhere the two of you can’t be interrupted…

“Take off the blindfold, love.” Kento whispers soothingly in your ear. A shiver of anticipation runs down your spine that had nothing to do with the cold he’d dragged you through before walking you into a toasty room. You hear the door close behind you then feel his diligent hands wipe the snow that had accumulated on your outfit from you.

The fabric of the blindfold’s knot falls away from your grasp as you open your eyes, letting them adjust the the cozy lighting of the room around you. Your eyes immediately fall upon the stone fireplace that was already roaring with a fire, then travel to the walls, seeing that they’re constructed with large wooden logs.

But what takes your breath away is the view outside the picturesque window as night descends upon the snowy mountain Nanami had brought you to. You’re only able to look back at him after the tears start falling from your eyes, your heart heavy with love and gratitude.

“Ken. I- I love it.” You continue to sob lightly, overwhelmed with the thoughtfulness in the plans he laid out. He knows his absence has been difficult for you to deal with. You feel his large hands cup your cheeks, his thumbs rubbing lightly along your tear stained cheeks in an attempt to ground you as you continue to babble out your appreciation.

He pulls your face in for a deep kiss you can’t help but moan into. You should feel embarrassed with how needy he made you after one kiss, but you can’t care as you finally get to feel him against you for the first time in weeks.

And you have him to yourself for fourteen whole days.

The promise of all the positions you wanted him to fold you into has you clawing his jacket from his shoulders and ripping his button-down open in one harsh pull. You feel your center clench at the thought of him flipping you around and relentlessly fucking you into the arm of the large leather couch, supporting your body as you collapse in a mind shattering orgasm, coming pretty and dumb for him, just how you know he likes you.

The two of you had plenty of time to go slow later. You need him now and he’s much too happy to oblige with your demands. He’d find exactly the right time to take out the box you had conveniently missed in his jacket pocket that would tie the two of you together forever.

tag list: @sugarbooger513 @sugarmapoops @roughwithfluff @severelytalentless @yelzoldyck @silversslut @aazaard @dreamyyholland @wobblewobble822 @vantastic210 @rafzaha @tirzamisu @chososhoney @littlemochi @meromelo @firdaoz @saoney [[if your blog name is crossed out i couldn't tag you]]

[haikyuuwaifu]

Ch.14

Genre: Drama, Angst

Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of Toxicity, Mentions of Infidelity, Mentions of Gaslighting, Mild Mentions of Death

MASTERLIST

THE TRUTH ABOUT GOJO

When Sukuna told Y/n he was taking her somewhere, she didn’t think it was a shrine in the middle of nowhere. Unlatching herself from around his waist, she maneuvered herself off his bike, and took in her surroundings. “My grandad was a priest.” Sukuna supplied, taking his helmet off and settling it on the seat. “Before Yuji and I were born, our grandma died and he opted for sainthood and found his way here.” “Is your grandfather here?” Y/n enquired, looking back at him. Sukuna only shook his head, as he stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets. “He died a few years ago. When Yuji and I were little, our parents died in an accident, and Grandpa left the priesthood to raise us.” 

Y/n reached out to comfort him, but Sukuna only shrugged. “No need to feel sorry sweetheart. I’m at piece with it. Honestly, he was kind of a huge dick; but he would have liked you.” He mumbled, moving toward the temple. “I like to come here sometimes, when I get overwhelmed, or if I ever need time to think clearly.” Y/n hummed, following along, taking in the sights around her. “This reminds me of the show.”  Y/n mused, as the two made their way toward the gardens. “That’s part of why Yuji and I were interested. They want to do some of the filming here, and a portion of the proceeds will go to the temple.” Sukuna supplied, stopping at a small alcove of cherry trees. “This was his favorite spot in the whole place.” Sukuna whispered, motioning for Y/n to take a seat. Settling herself on the ground, Sukuna laid sprawled out, tugging her down, so her head rested on his chest. “You’re not obligated to tell me anything, but I’ll listen if you want to talk about it.” He mumbled, stroking her back lazily. “We can stay here as long as you want.” Y/n only smiled, curling into him. “Thanks Kuna.” She whispered, closing her eyes and basking in the silence.

What felt like forever later,  Y/n found herself lazily stroking Sukuna’s belly, her eyes closed as she quietly began speaking. “He wasn’t always like that you know...self-absorbed and narcissistic.” Sukuna remained silent, waiting for her to continue. “When we were kids, Gojo was always getting into trouble, and Geto was always right there with them.” Y/n mused, remembering the number of times the two would be chased down the streets of their hometown. “It was always the two of them, and unless I was there they’d get a whoopin.” Y/n laughed, eyes watering slightly. “It was just the three of us, and we could always count on each other.” she mumbled, lips wobbling slightly. Sukuna only pulled her closer, his chest thrumming as he listened. “When we were growing up, I never garnered a lot of attention from the opposite sex. It was impossible to have a crush, let alone find interest in boys when my two best friends scared everyone off all the time.” Y/n huffed, “I didn’t even know about Gojo’s feelings until we got into this really big fight in high school.” 

“I find it hard to believe that guys weren’t falling over their feet for you sweetheart.” Sukuna teased, stroking her cheek softly. Y/n only laughed, patting his chest fondly. “It was hard to notice, even then I was still wrapped up in keeping Geto and Gojo out of trouble.” “Around that time, they started gaining popularity by the masses, and they were hounded by agents and managers; practically begging them to go into the modeling business.” “They’d always been pretty.” Y/n mused, zoning out. “I was always the best friend of the pretty boy duo, never considered a pretty one; but I didn’t really care.” “While they were my best friends since childhood, as we got older, we started going our separate ways. I branched out, and I found new friends like Nanami, Utahime, and Toji.” “Then how did you end up with a tool like Gojo?” Sukuna grunted, eyeing her. “It was a rumor.” Y/n recalled, shaking her head with a laugh. “Toji wanted to go to the dance, but he didn’t have a date. We discussed going as a group, but Gojo found out from someone that I was “going” with Toji. He got angry and we fought about it. The night of the dance he showed up at my door, confessed his love for me, and we were together. Just like that.” “Just like that huh?” Sukuna mused, contemplating his next words.

“If you’re wondering where it went bad, it wasn’t for a good few years.” Y/n answered, poking his cheek hard. “Geto gave him the big brother speech, and then everything was fine.  He hadn’t started acting seriously yet, and I had just figured out that I wanted to do something in the fashion industry.” “Our teen years, were probably our happiest years.” Y/n mused, sitting up, and pulling her knees to her chest. “If I really thought about it, they were our only happy years too.” Sukuna reached out to touch her, but Y/n inched back slightly. “It’s okay. I’ve had a lot of time to think about it Sukuna. When graduation came around, we got into a really big fight because I had plans to go to college, and Gojo was going straight into acting. He thought I would go with him, to America...to Hollywood. I told him I wasn’t going to follow him around like some puppy. It what I felt like, his little lap dog.  We’d fought for weeks, and neither one of us was willing to budge.” Y/n looked over to see that she had his undivided attention. “Geto solved the problem, deciding that he’d forgo college and go with Gojo, magically solving all our problems.” She chuckled, the sound a little hollow. “We said goodbye at the end of that summer, and went on pursuing our own dreams. We were still together, but I found myself devoting so much time to school, that I barely had time for Gojo. You’d think he’d understand, he had been busy too, booking shoots as soon as he touched down at the airport; but he’d get so angry if I didn’t text him back.”  Y/n hissed, clutching her knees tighter. “He’d get so angry, and leave voicemails, and call me names. He’d ignore me for days, and then expect me to apologize.” “I knew, deep down, that his behavior should have been the indicator that what we had wasn’t going to work. It wasn’t healthy, and it wasn’t good for me; but I’d somehow convinced myself it was just the stress. I was just stressed out and our relationship was hard, but all relationships are hard, and we just needed...” she trailed off, hot tears hitting her cheeks as her body shook. 

Sukuna scrambled up, scooping her in his arms and holding him close. “I transferred to the States the following year. Gojo paid for the move and everything, the both of us agreeing that distance was just too much of a strain on our relationship.” Y/n continued, as Sukuna rocked back and forth. “Things were good for the next two years after that. I finished school early, I’d gotten an internship thanks to Geto, and with Gojo’s help I started making my own designs.” “Gojo started landing bigger roles, and going out more. It put a new strain on our relationship when I’d see nothing but tabloid after tabloid of him and his female co-stars.” Y/n mumbled, reaching up to wipe the tears off her face. “At first it was all speculation, we’d been together so long, I knew him like the back of my hand.” Y/n whispered looking away from Sukuna. “What happened?” Sukuna asked, bringing her face back toward his own. “I caught him red handed.” Y/n sighed, curling herself into Sukuna’s chest. “I caught him red handed, in the middle of the act, in our shared bedroom with that bitch Mei Mei.” Y/n seethed, clutching his shirt tightly. “We’d spent years together, literal  years together, and he threw it all away for her. And it’s not like I didn’t bring up how uncomfortable she made me feel. She always looked down on me. Acted like I was less because I was just some designer.” Y/n huffed, rolling her eyes. “That bitch sleeps with anyone that’s got a dick, but she wants to treat me like I’m the scum of the fucking earth.” She snorted, “Least I don’t have to sleep my way into getting a fucking job.” 

Sukuna found himself chuckling, causing Y/n to chuckle as well. “It seems silly, but I thought we could work past it and I stayed. That lasted all of a few days when all I could see was the two of them around our place. I freaked out, a few days after and destroyed everything in our apartment.” Y/n mumbled sheepishly. “I didn’t mean to, I just couldn’t think clearly.” Sukuna only nodded, “It’s better than what I would have done if I were you,  but if you broke up; then why doesn’t Geto know what really happened?” At Geto’s name, Y/n sighed, “Gojo and I are the only two constants in his life. When we got together, we both promised that regardless of how things turned out, we’d always be there for Geto. There’s no way I could have told him about what Gojo did. It would devestate him.” Sukuna only scoffed, pulling her even closer. “That doesn’t mean you deserve to be hurt in the process.” Y/n only shrugged, “I’m used to it. I’ve always taken the brunt of it all.” “I left the states, moved back to Japan, and launched my career. This project was the first time I’d seen Gojo in years.” Y/n hummed, as the two sat listening to their surroundings. “You deserved better than the two of them” Sukuna whispered, holding Y/n close, as he felt her body shake. “It’s okay.” He mumbled, stroking her back as sobs wracked through her body. “It’s okay.”

Prev/Next

a/n: there are no taglists

[nanamislvr]

𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐅

sypnosis: Gojo has lost his lover and it marks 2 years since she’s been gone, today is the day he’ll see her again.

pairing: gojo satoru /fem!reader

warnings: character death, blood mentions, angst, mourning, death blaming

a/n: when I think of gojo losing someone he loves it’s always really angsty and he tends to try to push it down to avoid those feelings, anyway i love him

Gojo is the strongest sorcerer in japan. Curses are usually nothing to him, the ones that are created from sadness left behind can be crushed like a bug with a snap of his finger. However there’s one curse he can’t seem to kill no matter how bad he tries, his cursed energy doesn’t work. It’s not one he can see with his six eyes, he can’t hear it’s groggy voice at night talking like a broken record, but he can feel it. He can feel the heaviness in his heart that weighs him down every time he passes by your photo.

He can feel the curse tug at his heart strings each time he thinks of you by his side. Every time he’s reminded of you the whole in his chest gets bigger. No matter what Gojo Satoru does, this curse is no match for him.

If you were here still, you’d probably tell him to get up from the bed he’s been in for a month and go get some sunlight. You’d probably open the curtains and make him stand in front of the window and he would argue with you like a kid. Then you’d scold him and he’d laugh and he’d be able to hear the sound of your laughter echoing through the room one last time. If only you were here, but you’re not, so the curtains remain shut and your husband stays in his bed with a pillow stained from dried up tears.

The sound of his front door opening up should startle him but he doesn’t pay any mind to it, nor to the footsteps that only seem to get closer. His head doesn’t perch up when a shadow outline appears on the wall either.

“Satoru—”

“Suguru, you know I never go in on this day” he cuts in, finally looking up at the figure that stands at the edge of the bed.

“I know, believe me I do, but everyone else is out and I can’t do this one alone, it’s at the cemetery that she’s at”

Gojos eyes slowly look at Getou with something unreadable. It’s not worry, it’s not fear it’s almost like those cerulean eyes are begging. They’re begging Getou to just go and pretend that he never said those words. The cemetery that he’s talking about is one that Gojo hasn’t ever been to. It’s the one you’re at, the ones he’s avoided for almost 2 years. He thinks about that at night, the fact that he pulled a cowardly move to not see his wife off as she goes 6 feet underground but he remembers that seeing you die was too much. Ever since that day, he’s been scared to go to that cemetery because he’s sure if he saw your tombstone, he’d really be cursed.

Part of him wants to tell Getou to leave. He’d rather stay in his bed today and get swallowed up by tears and the curse that is well known as grief. The other part of him is you, standing by his side and giving him the “you know what you have to do” look. You’d tell him to go out not so he can get some sunlight or to pick up some sweets from the bakery on his way home, but to go out because he needs it, because he needs to go to the cemetery to grieve.

“I’ll go.”

“So where is it?”

“Nanami took care of it already”

“Huh? Then why did you call me out here? You know I don’t come out on this day and of all places you call me here?” his voice begins to shake.

Today marks two years that you’ve been gone. Two years since Gojo has seen your smile that makes his heart swell. Two agonizing years that he’s dealt with this curse of grief following him every place he goes.

“I didn’t know he took care of it, he just texted me when we got here. I know I should have told you but we’re already here Satoru, use this as an opportunity”

Gojo ignored Getou, walking away until he saw you standing. You didn’t move or talk, you just smiled at him the same way you always did. He knew at that moment that if he walked away from this cemetery he would keep living in the same sorrow that he’s been trying to get rid of.

With a sigh Gojo turned back to the cemetery, walking down each path until he reached the one with your last name. He kneeled down until he was on one knee, staring at your tombstone. All he did was take a deep breath and suddenly tears started to fall from his eyes followed by an ache in his heart.

“I’m sorry I never came to see you, I know it must have been lonely,” he mummers, gently tracing the letters of your name on the stone.

Everything starts to rush through him. The last memory he had of you sits on replay but this time he can see it so vividly as he traces the tombstone. You were in his arms with blood seeping from your side. He was taking you to the hospital after you both took care of a curse, or after you took care of too many curses to protect him. Your eyes were barely open when he teleported to the hospital, gaining odd looks from everyone. He remembers the way your eyes fluttered open and how you held onto his hand loosely before speaking.

“I-It’s not your fault, Satoru”

He remembers your hand falling from his grasp, how the only tears falling were his. You had a smile on your face before you spoke, it was the same one you gave him when you’d try to make him feel better. Even at death, you worried for the strongest, for the honored one, for your Satoru.

“Why did you have to protect me? Y-You could have been alive right now if you just let me handle it” he sobs, gripping the stone.

He never knew why, why you killed all of those curses on your own when he was right there with you. Normally he could kill them in a flash but there were just so many that he couldn’t keep a tab on you. They piled up and it was either run or let the curses get away, but you had a third option. Save your husband. Gojo will never know why you didn’t just let him take you to safety, and he never will.

“I’m sorry for making this sad, I’m sorry for being too late, I’m sorry..”

Gojo’s sobs turn into throaty cries. As more tears stream down his face, the weight on his chest lightens like he’s crying out all of his grief that’s been shoved down. It goes like that for an hour until his dull cerulean eyes are swollen and no more tears are able to escape. His mind is empty now, or maybe it’s just too exhausted to think. Numbness starts to set in until a tall figure looms over Gojo from behind.

Getou stands to the side with flowers in his hand, reaching out for the white haired man. They’re daisies, your favorite.

“You haven’t bought your wife flowers, I’m sure she’d like that,” Getou smiles, handing over the bouquet to Gojo.

“I’ll be in the car, come when you’re ready”

Gojo stares at the flowers for what seems to be minutes. If tears could come out they’d be pouring down his face right now but all he can do is sniffle.

Daisies weren’t even your favorite until he got you some for the very first date. He remembers how you smelled them and ran to your kitchen for a vase. How you kissed him on the cheek and said “They’re my favorite kind of flower n” The thought makes his heart feel warm for the first time in 2 years.

“Here’s your favorite flowers, my love, I’ll be sure to bring more when I see you again tomorrow. I love you” he chuckles, placing the bouquet onto your grave.

On the way to the car Gojo could swear he saw you smiling at him from the corner of his eye. The curse of grief still tugs at his heart from the sight of you but at least now, it’s not totally unbearable.

“Ready to go home?”

“Yeah”

That night Gojo sobbed and sobbed and sobbed, gripping onto a pillow that he so desperately wished was you. He even took a shower with the shampoo you used to use just for some sort of comfort. It felt unusual to cry and not shy away every time something reminded him of you.

From then on, Gojo did keep visiting you with daisies every single day. Some days would be hard, he would sit with you for hours sobbing and asking why you did what you did, but other days would be nice and he would tell you all about the new students at school. He still has a lot of mourning to do, he can tell when he looks in the mirror and questions if it was his fault or when he tries to find someone, anyone to blame but despite the hard process of mourning his wife, the curse that’s been with him for quite some time has been getting easier to deal with.

Grief is a curse that Satoru Gojo can finally bare.

© 2022 — nanamislvr do not copy, take credit for or repost any of my works on any platform.

[angry-geese]

Alien Blues

Gojo Satoru x Reader

Warnings: none! sfw. romantic/platonic(interpretable). mainly fluff. mentions of overworking and death, but nothing graphic. gn!reader

Notes: touch-starved Gojo

Word Count: 2.3k

Gojo doesn't get a lot of downtime in his line of work.

It comes with the job. Sorcerers don't exactly work a 9 to 5. This line of work is far from a normal one. Curses don't exorcise themselves, nor do they pick convenient times to show up. He usually has his hands full; be it taking down curses, or dealing with his students. A guy like him really can't take a vacation.

Despite going to the same school—and being only a year younger than him—you didn't meet Gojo until well into your adult life. After graduating, you went off on your own. The typical way of life for sorcerers wasn’t for you. You really didn't want to work with—or under—any of the major clans. At that point, you just wanted to do your own thing. To hell with the school; you’d be fine on your own. And you were.

You spent much of your time exorcising curses across the world, traveling from place to place, not staying in a single town for very long. A lot of it was freelance work. Such jobs were typically frowned upon, or at least looked at strangely. But it really didn't bother you. On your own you were powerful, and an impressive fighter, but you were working in a world that didn't accept you.

So you said to hell with fitting in.

Doing your own thing was the best decision you’d ever made. To this day you’ll stand by that. The jujutsu world is meant for people like Gojo. It demands so much more from you, and in return gives a whole lot less. It demands perfection from you—maybe even more—while he’s the set standard for this perfection. You hold no ill will towards him for it. He didn't make things this way. But it's hard not to envy him at times.

When you came back to the school, you were first assigned a teaching job.

Although you were a talented sorcerer, it was clear from the beginning you weren't meant to be a teacher. Your teaching style was viewed as a bit harsh, as you tended to just throw your students into a situation and let them figure things out for themselves, correcting them where needed. Overall you weren't a bad teacher, but your students got sent to the infirmary often. And by often, it was nearly every day. You just wanted them to be capable. You wanted your students to be prepared. To be the best of the best. How are they supposed to improve if they don't have experience?

To be fair, your students were some of the best in their grade.

For the most part you substitute if needed.

Upon first meeting, he was too eccentric for your tastes. Really, you found him annoying. Your first impression of Gojo was that he was full of himself and out of touch with the world around him. His first impression of you was that you were stuck up and a bit of a bitch.

There wasn't one thing that changed. Maybe he wore you down to the point where you tolerated him. He likes to think it was because of his charming personality. You know otherwise. His charms rarely work on you; if ever. Over time you found yourself less and less repulsed by him. The two of you bonded over harassing Nanami. On your own you weren't much trouble, but when paired with Gojo, Nanami learned to stay out of your way. If you let him. Usually you tracked him down. Your sweet tooth was just as insatiable as his. When you first took up baking, he was always nearby, wanting a taste. You’d drag him along to see new movies or shows or anything you’d think he’d like. He likes co-existing with you. The two of you don't have to even be doing anything. He can sit for hours with you by his side, doing absolutely nothing.

You've gotten to the point in your relationship where you show up unannounced. It's payback for all the times he’s come to your apartment, claiming he has some work for you, only to stay and raid your fridge, conveniently forgetting what he had to tell you. Yes you have scared the absolute hell out of Megumi on several occasions. In Gojo’s defense, he likes your cooking.

He’s not used to having you stay in one place for so long. You’re not used to it either. It feels strange sticking around Tokyo for so long. You hate feeling trapped more than anything. Maybe that’s why you moved around so much. Maybe you’re getting sentimental the older you get. For the first time in years, you feel truly at home. Gojo is one of your closest—if not your closest—friends, and there’s not much you wouldn't do for him.

You guess this is home. The end of the line, or whatever. You don't see yourself leaving for a while.

It's well after dark by the time he gets home.

The place was empty when you got here. Megumi must be out with friends. He's a strange kid. Strange circumstances lead to strange adults—or almost adults in his case. You try not to judge him too hard. You don't have a whole lot to say on his… situation.

He notices your form curled up on the couch, your face illuminated by your phone screen. The tv plays some horror movie you’ve long stopped paying attention to. Your face lights up when you see him.

His hand briefly touches your head, messing up your hair. He looks tired. There's dark circles under his eyes. He was gone for a while this time.

“I brought takeout,” you say, gesturing to the fridge, “I wasn't sure when you’d get home so I put it in there.”

“Did you eat already?” He asks. He makes a note to pay you back for the food later.

“No, I wanted to wait for you.” You say.

A bit of guilt hits him. You really didn't have to wait for him. You know his habit of being chronically late. He says he’s fashionably late, to which you reason he is never fashionable ever. He actually seemed a bit bothered by that one, which only made you tease him more.

Momentarily he disappears into the kitchen, returning with your food. You have his order memorized. There's only a handful of things he’d get anyway. He’s not a picky eater, and usually gets what you get. Pick one of about three things and he’ll probably eat it.

The food is still good even while cold. Gojo talks about his recent job while you eat. He says it was nothing special. But he called Nanami for backup, so you know that’s a lie. He hardly touches his food. Since when doesn't he want to eat? The guy has a pretty impressive appetite at times. Seriously, he could eat you out of house and home.

“Are you done?” He asks.

You nod.

He clears away the empty takeout containers from in front of you, returning the leftovers to the fridge.

When he returns, he sits next to you, throwing his arm over the back of the couch. The leather is an ugly shade. You’re sure if it weren't for Megumi, he would have bought something much worse. His taste—in everything, really—can be tacky. You make sure he knows this. Always have to keep him on his toes. Nanami is right about some things. You never take Gojo’s side for too long.

“You were gone for a while this time.” You say.

A smug looking grin spreads across his face. It's almost enough to make you roll your eyes and groan. “Sounds like you were worried about me.”

Really, you could worry yourself sick thinking about him. It's hard not to. Everyone has their limits, and you constantly wonder when he’ll hit his. Strongest or not; he’s human after all.

“Of course I worry.” As much as you hate to admit it, you care about him. You won't say it. It feels like bad luck to say it out loud.

He knows. He feels the same way. Over time he’s grown jaded and angry with the way things are. He tries not to worry too much about you. This life isn't an easy one, but you can handle yourself. He knows that. Years on your own have proven you're not only a capable sorcerer, but a talented one. The strongest doesn't need to worry about himself, so much as the people around him.

In a weird way he’s proud of you.

You open your arms, instinctively he goes into them.

You pull his head to your chest. He does little to fight against you. Hell, he practically leans into your touch. You take his glasses, setting them on the table beside you. His eyes close when your hands move to his hair, gently pulling it out of his eyes. He’s not quite sure what to do with his arms. Eventually he settles on resting them at his sides. One snakes around your stomach, coming to rest on the fleshy part of your hip. You're awfully comfortable to lay on, he notes.

Your movements are familiar, and oddly comforting. He makes note of the way your heartbeat suddenly drops off, before picking up in pace. From the smell of your shampoo, to the sound of your breathing. He can only describe it as home.

Lots of people will die in this line of work, but he has faith you’ll always be around. You’re too stubborn to die.

Touch in a sense like this is almost foreign to him. Touch in a non fighting context is just bizarre. He never de-activates infinity long enough to get hit. He's had his fair share of one night stands. Hell, he could have anyone he wants. He’s had everything and anything in between. Men and women across the world either want to be him, or be with him. But this—intimacy like this—is strange. The others get kicked out the morning after. But you’ll always be around. He likes to think he’ll be around for you too.

Maybe he’s more touch starved than he thought.

He’s Satoru-fucking-Gojou, a man like him doesn't get touched starved. He feels a wave of shame at his reaction. His face burns. His pride won't allow him to admit how much he enjoys this.

It's the first time you’ve held him close like this. The action is so oddly intimate and it’s not even in a sexual way. Your movements are familiar. He fits so nicely against your chest, he notes.

He practically purrs in delight as your fingers brush a sensitive spot towards the back of his head—where his neck and shoulders meet—sighing softly. Goosebumps rise along his exposed flesh. You take note of his reaction, and focus on that spot more, dragging your fingers across his skin. Your nails are getting long, and feel nice against his scalp. His eyes close as he leans into the crook of your neck.

"Do you want to watch something different?" You ask.

His heart nearly stops when your hand moves to cup his cheek. His face is warm. He's a wimp when it comes to horror movies. He says they don't scare him. They do. You’ve spent plenty of night sitting next to him, watching his body tense with terror.

He wasn't paying attention to the tv until now. He shakes his head, but his eyes remain fixed on the ground and not the screen.

"This is fine." He says.

"You sure?"

He nods.

He fights sleep as long as possible, but eventually he'll have to give in to it. You’ll be there long after he’s fallen asleep. Maybe even after he wakes up. His head nods, his eyes struggling to stay open. His breaths even out, his chest rising slowly.

You're not really sure what to do once he falls asleep on you. Your position isn't the most comfortable, but you suffer through it so as to not wake him up. If he’s fallen asleep on you, then he definitely needs the rest. He’s a light sleeper anyway. Any movement would be sure to wake him up.

It’s not long after that his body heat—and the sound of his steady breathing—lulls you to sleep.

You wake up to a blanket haphazardly tossed over the two of you. The tv is off. Two glasses of water are set out on the coffee table, condensation collecting on the outside. Megumi must have come home. Gojo's drool collects in a small pool on your collarbone, which is a bit gross. You use the corner of the blanket to wipe it away. It’s a bit odd seeing him so at-peace. It's rare he even lets his guard down. You rest your chin on the top of his head. His hair is soft, and tickles your neck. The sight of him makes your chest swell with affection. The intimacy of it all is enough to overwhelm you. It's been a while since you’ve cared so much about someone.

It's nice having him home.

He stirs, stretching out a bit like a cat. You card a hand through his hair. He grumbles something in response. Probably a weak “what?” Your joints are a bit stiff from staying in the same position for so long.

“Do you want coffee?” You ask.

He sleepily mumbles an answer—one which you don't understand. It's just as legible as the first. His eyes don't even open. You take it to mean he wants to go back to sleep. You pull the blanket up around his shoulders, tucking it under his chin. The sun is still barely up. You’re not in a rush to get up. You don't have anything to do today anyway, work can wait. If Nanami calls, you’ll just ignore him. You could stay in all morning if you wanted.

And you just might.

Come hell or high water, you’re staying on this couch.

In a bit you should get up and start breakfast. Most of the food in the house is for Megumi, but there should be enough to make something small. Pancakes sound nice.

[bonnymori]

𝐌𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐲

Word count: 2760+ (i'll try to keep bigger lengths such as this one!)

Synopsis: You meet a new classmate who's working along Nanami, you think he's fun to be around, it stands the same to him about you. Later, feelings unravel.

Contents/Warnings: (1) Itadori Yuuji x gn!reader (2) FLUFF, TONS OF FLUFF - and some comfort (3) With the small participation of... Ino Takuma!! I really like him too, that's why <33333 (4) This is pretty platonic, but also not? (5) Ending turned sorta cliché... but I liked it u.u

A/N: This boy made me run rampant... to fhe point it's not single attraction anymore I just wish him happiness (smh if only my parents knew...) also next post will be Toji's fic pt. 2! Y'all see the first part is almost reaching 100 kudos????? I'M SO HAPPY EHSODJWKDKSJD- thanks for all the new followers and the support!! <33

Ever since his fake death, Itadori has been training alone with the help of Gojo - and now, he works along a freshly new face, who belongs to a senior, founds out ex-salaryman named Nanami Kento. He's far a thousand times more strict than Gojo. Itadori doesn't really likes the change, because Nanami is a person he can't get along. This whole guy's appearance scream "work 4 life"; he has proved different, now he screams "work is shit - but I gotta do it because others won't".

They've just finished cleansing the outside of a movie theater off a few curses, when Itadori hears shouting from far behind them. Two figures approach, waving excessively. He quickly picks on Nanami's tired sigh beside him.

"Nanami! We figured out you'd be here! Our mission has been finished and we wanted to catch up to have lunch together!" A male clad in a full black outfit shouts, he has brown hair and a beanie on top of his head, looking quite content.

The other person simply trots next to him in silence, approaching with a friendly smile. They notice Itadori faster than the male, smile widening and quickly waving hello, suddenly eager to reach up to them. The gesture makes the pink haired boy perk up, curious to why the other person looked so joyful. His question is easily answered, when they tug on the man's sleeve and motion to him.

"Ino, we have a third buddy!" The dude looks at him with widened eyes. "So nice to meet you, I'm Y/N L/N! It's great to see new faces around!"

Itadori smiles at your energy, knowing already he would click with you very well.

"I'm Ino Takuma, sorry for not noticing you before! Your uniform looks cool." Itadori exchanges a few compliments with Ino, before the man turns to talk with Nanami, leaving him and you together.

"Yes! I'm Sukuna's vessel, Itadori Yuuji-desu! My type of woman is Jenn-"

You turn to him. "So, are you a first year?"

"Geh? Weren't you dead though?!"

"I was!- I am!- Please keep secret."

"Okay!"

"Ahem." Nanami coughs, drawing attention. "I requested you two to not come after me today. Itadori here is the reason why."

"That's no problem, we're very capable of keeping secrets." You threw your arm over Itadori's shoulder, him nodding along with you.

"Oh really, then remember to keep quiet about it. I'll let this slide." The group of students nervously at Nanami's intimidating tone. "But, I'll get to have my break alone."

"Gah!" Ino exclaimed, watching Nanami walk away; he also left the responsability of taking care of Itadori for you two, leaving without a word. "It really had to be today, when Nanami would take us to his favorite bakery..."

"Crybaby." You teased. "Itadori here can't go outside where anyone can see him, he's dead. So, we were to order food either way because he shouldn't be left out."

"Augh okay, it would be unfair."

"So, where are you staying Itadori?"

"At Gojo's state!"

"Whoa, I've never been there before." Ino commented, waiting as you sent a message to Ijichi to pick them up.

"He's my teacher, a very cool one!"

"I imagine! Ooookay, once we get there I'll get the food."

Itadori felt as his chest would burst of excitement, finally there was people around him again, he couldn't be less happy about it.

"Sharing is caring!"

Itadori laughed as you wrestled with Takuma for some fries, netflix long forgotten in the background, as watching the banter was way more entertaining. Most of the time, Ino rambled a lot about Nanami, while he rambled a lot about Gojo. The guy even showed him the cool scar under his beanie. He felt kinda upset after explaining the exchange was just temporary, his stay under Nanami's wing wasn't decisive, and therefore, he was more like a classmate than a partner.

Itadori also learned a lot about you. He was surprised to find out that you, although energetic, was the one to speak the lesser in conversations. His surprisement grew even bigger when you told him you're a exchange student from Kyoto, arriving Tokyo about the same month as him - thankfully, you were to say for good.

Conversations flowed easily in the air, until a voice from the doorway barged in.

"Yuuji-kun! Don't forget about your lessons! Hi kids! Bye kids!" Gojo said playfully, throwing the familiar punching bear to Itadori before leaving.

"What's this thing?" Ino asked.

"It's to help me control my cursed energy. So while I watch the movies, if I don't charge it with cursed energy it punches me square in the face. I thought I had mastered this thing already, but he insist I keep training with it." Itadori grumbles.

"At least it's cute." You commented, taking a sip of your drink.

"Until it punches you in your face without warning!" The pink haired boy barks.

The talks died down, the three of you eating quietly when another movie is played on the screen. Itadori didn't bother reading the title, it was a plain one about a zombie apocalypse that got him extremely bored, yet he kept watching still so the plushie didn't punch him in the face again; he's been keeping a record since all his last cursed energy training lessons were a sucess to this day. When his head started nodding and eyelids dropping Itadori can't remember well, about fourty five minutes of movie perhaps? Make it fifty, the second slumber took over his body completely.

When he awoke once again, it was near midnight, the clock on the wall told him so. He also noticed a soft and warm surface supporting his head, figures, it's your shoulder he's resting into, he feels an arm around his own shoulders and your cheek placed upon his hair.

"Hey, it's late." You immediately notices he's awake, calling out softly. "You should sleep on your room, or something, better to your spine."

He chuckles when you poke his side. "But I'm comfortable here."

"I'm surprised, you just met me today, and now is sleeping on my shoulder."

"I'm not, that happens often to me."

"Sleeping on people's shoulders?"

"No! Making friends quickly." Itadori likes your gentle warmth, your hug, everything makes him feel at home. "I met two more people before you for two weeks, but they can't see me, because I'm dead."

"So I'll keep you company, that's my new mission."

His eyes widen at that, a oh so little blush covering the tip of his ears.

"For how many time I slept anyway?" He asks.

"About two- no, three hours. You missed two movies, and this one is about to end."

"And you stayed here the whole time?" He motions to your shoulder.

"Yep. That reminds me I gotta pee."

Itadori grumbles, but quickly lifts himself off you, respecting your needs. That gives him some time to look around, he notices Ino is gone, and the plushie sits quietly at the other side of the couch, unmoving.

"Y/N! How did you manage to make it quiet down?" He's beyond bafflet.

"...que."

"What!"

"I said!" You arrive quickly at the doorframe, hands still wet from when you washed them. "I used my innate technique."

"Oh! How is it like?"

"It's kinda funny, gimme a moment." You left to wipe off your hands, coming back in a second. "So, just like Shoko, I produce reverse curse energy, but it's quite different than hers, I can't heal people. That's why we often call it positive energy instead. I can use it to soothe off negative energy, so the bear has no cursed energy right now."

"How does it works on people?" He felt very curious about everything, asking away like a kid.

"Since everyone has negative energy, it just makes you sleepy really. But when it comes to curses it's really practical, I can either weaken it or, if the curse is like grade three or four, I can slap them off existence completely by wiping all their energy." You were naturally proud of having a such versatile power, your own energy swirling with pride around you.

"That sounds amazing! Is it why I fell asleep though?"

"Nah, only if I did it on purpose. I guess you were just tired, hope you don't mind I decided to let you rest today."

"No way, it was a good nap."

You nodded. "By the way, Ino left to attend to a drinking party, he paid for our food."

"Drinking? Is he old?"

"Yeah, he's twenty." You chuckled, already expecting that kind of reaction.

"No way! He looks young just like us!"

"That's totally my reaction after I learned he's twenty!"

After that day, you started visiting Itadori weekly to daily, after exchanging numbers he made a little group with you and Ino, naming it the "Nanami trio". But really, he exchanges more texts with you in private, be them memes, cool images he wish to share, etcetera. Although, Ino wasn't left excluded, he ofter brough his xbox to connect to Itadori's tv room and you all would spend hours playing together; he just didn't spend much time with both of you as much. And that was okay.

For a few days, your connection with Itadori died down when he didn't reply to your texts. They would remain unread for some time, the longest being half a day, until he would spam apologies then move on with the topic. That became a routine until one day when you came over to check on Itadori unnanounced, needin to ease off your worries about the boy, only to find him sobbing in the middle of a hallway, staring ahead and beyond, his back to you.

"Ita-?"

"Egh!" Startled, he scrambled to wipe his eyes, turning to you. "H-hey, um, hi."

"What happened?"

"I- he-" His eyes didn't met yours, knuckles white in a death grip. You notice he has a few bandages thrown over his face and arms. The way his shoulders are drawn, as if he wants to shrink into himself is something you've experienced before.

"Something hard to talk about?"

He nods almost immediately, head still facing down.

"It's alright, come with me." You reach for his hands, grimacing slightly when his forceful grip is now on your hand, yet you don't comment on it. He follows you through the state wordlessly.

You two stop on the same tv room, sitting down on the couch. You then guide his head to your shoulder, gently massaging his scalp with the free hand.

"It's alright."

Those two words are chanted like a prayer for the next half hour, at some point, Itadori twisted his body towards yours and unknowingly caged you between him and the sofa arm. He embraced you with a force you didn't have in you, like he didn't want to lose one another. Painful or not, not a muscle moved on your body. He needed a shoulder to cry on.

Thirty minutes passed like seconds, you peered down only to find the boy confortably napping against your bosom; at some point you just became the cold side of the pillow to him. That's alright. It brings you joy to be the mom friend anyways. So you decided to join the sleepland aswell, arms still secured around his shoulders and the back of his head.

It feels like the nap hasn't been long, though, because you can feel Itadori's grip loosening and therefore, you're awake.

"Sorry if I broke any bones, in advance."

"Wow, and you only warn me now."

He laughs at your comeback, hands still secured around your waist.

"I'm surprised you let me uh, cuddle you for comfort - and sleep. I don't understand it? You just make me sleepy." He rambled, keeping eye contact with you while his head still rests on your chest.

"That's a piece of cake when you have younger siblings who seek for you every night they get a nightmare."

"Does that mean I can come to you again if I have a nightmare?" There it is, his togepi-kirby cutesy face.

"Are you four?"

"That's mean!" Itadori blushed, squeezing you on his arms. "I like the contact. It puts me at ease."

"Mm, do you want to talk about it?"

He gulped. "No, not really."

Your peach haired friend remained silent, and so did you. It seems he doesn't intend in letting you go soon, or he just really forgot to mention it. It gives them time to think, your younger sisted used to do that sometimes, back in Kyoto.

"Y/N, wanna watch anything?"

"Sure, have you watched Parasyte before?"

"No, let's give it a try then!" Itadori glances at the remote, then back at you - making you confused over his hesitation to move. He notices you noticed it, chuckling nervously. "To be honest, I don't wanna let go."

"It's hurting my back."

"SORRY I'M SORRY!" He jumped away from you like a cat would jolt away from a cucumber, making you snicker.

"It's okay, I just wanted to change positions."

And to tease you, but he didn't need to know that part.

He glared at you with a small pout, typing the initials of Parasyte on the search bar. Outside his line of vision, you were grinning like a idiot, his sweeteness took a tow on you. All the people of Tokyo you met really held a way different spirit from your classmates in Kyoto, Itadori being the nicest of all. It's surprising him being Sukuna's vessel to begin with; being honest, you felt drawn by it.

"Y/N, it's startiiiiing." He cut your daydreaming short, slumping on your side and propping his head on your shoulder.

"This again?" You throw an arm around his shoulders, very much like the first time he cuddled himself on you.

"Don't blame me, you're the one who wanted to change positions. Guess I'll just make some alterations since I'm awake this time!" One of his arms went behind your back and circled your waist, hand resting at your hip.

"It's definely different, since the other time you drooled on me."

"Hhgh, okay okay! Let me enjoy this." For perhaps the actual first time, you're able to watch without exchanging words with one another.

And this time, it's you who's head loll to the side, nose buried on his soft rose perfumed hair. Itadori doesn't comment on it yet, his free hand moves under your legs to lift your whole body up efortlessly when he senses you have fallen asleep.

"I remember you said it's bad for my spine, I wouldn't mind it... yours however."

The boy makes a beeline to the guest room, he sighs when there is no choice but open the door with his foot. Inside, he places you carefully in the soft bed.

Before he could leave, a hand reaches up for his sleeve.

"Itadori," He turned, looking at you. "Make me company?"

He giggles softly - you think it sounds like a highschool girl. "You should start calling me by my first name!" Itadori rambles as he climbs on the bed, arms wrapping around your waist in a motion you're familiar with.

"Yuuji, I'm tired, let me sleep."

"But I wanna talk more..." He pouts. "Also, are we, um, dating?"

You wriggle around, bringing his head down to peck on his forehead, teasing. "Correction, I want to date you."

"Uh, oh." A blush coats his face so quickly, you'd say someone dumped a bucket of red paint on his face.

"Is that a no?"

"No!"

"So it is a no."

"Christ, will you stop teasing for a second, I'm trying to talk here." He makes an angry version of his togepi-kirby face, you can't help but grin.

"You amuse me, but okay. I'll do it for you."

"Thanks." He blinks, the blush slowly fading away. "You know, I lied, not about the contact, I like the contact nonetheless-"

His hand moves to play with yours, such as tapping his tips against yours, or meassuring the palms.

"-it's you who brings me comfort."

It's also your turn to blush, that line was seriously charming.

"Yeah."

"Yeah?"

"Yes, we're dating now." You respond, a little eagerly. "Can I kiss you?"

"Please."

This is the best person I could ask for, Itadori thinks, keeping his eyes open as yours shut during the kiss, whom I won't change for anything else in this world.

When you both separate, Itadori feels drowsy and sleepy. His face fits perfectly on your shoulder as always.

"Goodnight, my favorite person."

[pcvensies]

*.• Si vis amari.

II. The Sun.

in which 18 year old gojo satoru is left in charge of 6 year old fushiguro megumi and 8 year old tsumiki fushiguro, with the help of 17 year old nanami suki (oc).

word count: 3280

I. The Moon.

Soft light crept through the curtains, and Suki turned around to protect her sleepy eyes, stretching her whole body as she groaned, legs shaking as she did. She scratched her head, hair falling on her eyes, and the blonde sat up, eyes getting used to the new light of the room before a voice interrupted her awakening.

“Gojo I told you you’d sleep on the floor, get the fu-”.

Kento opened his eyes, hair messy and an angry expression plastered in his face. But his sight found only his twin, instead of the white haired boy.

The blonde was as confused, looking around and finding herself in a room different to the one she had fallen asleep into.

They both got up, Suki opening the windows and Kento making the bed.

“Though you were taking the couch”.

“I did”, she answered, looking through the window, rolling her eyes at the thought of Satoru changing places with her.

The blonde walked to her bedroom, opening the door to a sleeping Fushiguro on her bed, the kid snorting peacefully. She closed the door again, and this time walked to the living room.

It was empty, and so was the kitchen, and Suki felt her stomach sink. Had Gojo simply left them with the kid? It didn’t sound like him, but neither did this whole situation. He was acting very strangely, honestly, maybe…

She shook her head, shaking the thought away, and walking to the kitchen to make breakfast.

“Any idea where Gojo is?”, she asked out loud, making coffee.

“Nope”, her brother replied, rubbing his eyes as he sat at the kitchen table, “But he better be back to get the kid”.

Suki poured two coffees, one with milk and the other black, and sat in front of her brother, as he opened a bag of croissants that rested on the table.

“Can you get the juice from the fridge?”, Kento asked, earning a groan from his twin.

“Could have said before I sat down, couldn’t you Ken?”, she complained, as her hand found the fridge door.

Stuck with a magnet, a note caught her attention: “Call me when u wake up, we have something to pick up. Bring hedgehog kid! -Toru xx”. The girl sighed, throwing the note to her brother’s head as she sat back down with the juice box.

Kento read it and didn’t bother asking, he simply poured two glasses of juice, croissant hanging from his mouth as he did so.

The twins had breakfast in silence, still waking up, throwing glances at each other that they understood like words.

“This is crazy”.

“I mean, it’s Gojo we’re talking about. Of course it’s crazy”.

Kento snorted softly.

“You sure it’s a good idea? You can handle it, Sue?”.

The girl looked away, rolling her eyes in the process, and got up to prepare a cup of chocolate milk, ignoring her brother’s worried glances.

But Kento couldn’t ignore his worry. His sister and himself had been through enough, and the past months had been very rough on Suki. He didn’t want her to put any more pressure on herself, with all the missions they were giving her.

He couldn’t ask her again before Suki had already left the room, opening the door of her bedroom again, and walking to open the blinds slightly.

The sun filled the room with small squares of light, just enough to allow the blonde to locate everything around her.

She crouched next to the bed, gently shaking the kid, calling him softly as he started to open his eyes, covered by his messy raven hair.

“Good morning, Fushiguro… Breakfast is ready, and I’ll run you a bath. We’ll meet up Gojo later”.

The kid rubbed his eyes as he sat up, looking at his surroundings in an initial post-sleep confusion, but soon nodding at her words.

Suki noticed he had one of her old plushies next to him, a fluffy panda whose left ear had been lost to a dog in the park, but she didn’t say anything, simply getting up again and fully opening blinds and windows this time.

She made the bed as the kid left, and closed the door to put on some clothes. She then did her make up (there’s no reason why a strong sorcerer shouldn’t look good, if death is always around the corner anyways), and braided her hair, before heading to the bathroom to prepare the bath for the kid, and brush her teeth.

It wasn’t that different from her usual morning routine, she realised, and it hadn’t even been that much work to get Megumi to get up. He maybe wasn’t the sweetest kid, but he was as well behaved as one could expect.

And, being honest with herself, as he walked in the bathroom with sleepy eyes, and chocolate milk all over his face, Suki didn’t even mind having him around that much.

She put some towels in the towel warmer, left the kid’s clothes in the sink, and exited the bathroom to pick up her car keys, and her phone from the couch, eyes opening wide at her new lockscreen: a selfie Gojo had taken with her sleeping figure that night.

She unlocked it, searching for his name on her contact list, while Kento washed the dishes in the kitchen, the sound of the water making the girl walk to the balcony.

“Oh good morning, Susu”, Satoru greeted her through the phone.

“Morning, Gojo. Fushiguro is taking a bath, once he’s finished and ready we’ll go… What’s all this about? You didn’t stay for breakfast”.

“Yeah, yeah, sorry about that. Needed to do something first thing in the morning”, he simply said, avoiding the main question, “I’ll send you an address, yeah? And we’ll meet there, let's say… in an hour?”.

“Mhm, sounds good to me. Want us to bring something? I’m taking the car”.

“Stop to get something sweet for breakfast… It’s very important- no, crucial, to the plan”.

Suki rolled her eyes, but agreed, and she hung up when the bathroom door opened. She chuckled softly at the kid, wet hair falling on his eyes, and put her phone in her back pocket to grab the towel from his hands.

The kid looked up at her through the wet strands, like a cat who’s been caught by the rain, and Suki threw it over his head, drying his hair gently.

“If you don’t dry your hair well, you'll catch a cold, kid. And it will look weird”.

“I don’t care how it looks… Are we going to get the big baby now?”, the boy said, referring to Satoru, and earning a laugh from Kento.

“Yeah, Gojo wants us to go to an address… Here”, the girl explained, showing the kid the message, “We’ll go in my car and-”.

The kid’s face had changed, and Suki stopped talking, confused. He looked away from her and the phone, his energy switching to a weary one.

Just then, the blonde girl looked back at the text message, clicking on the address. It was a primary school.

“Fushiguro… Do you know why Gojo is sending us to a school?”.

“It’s not my school, I was kicked out…”, even his voice was different, “But, uhm-...”

“It’s my sister’s”.

( . . . )

The white haired boy waited outside, back pressed against the wall of the school’s entrance.

Mothers and older sisters were starting to gather around, waiting for their kids and siblings outside, some of their eyes caught by the handsome boy that stood unbothered under the sun, scrolling down his phone.

He looked up, blue eyes shielded by his round sunglasses meeting a pair of brown ones. The girl blushed, looking away immediately, and Satoru smirked as he looked around, looking for Nanami’s car this time.

A black Citroen C3 took the corner, and Satoru waved at it, signaling Nanami to park in front of where he was.

He put his phone in his pocket, followed by his hands, and he started walking towards the car. But then he felt it, Six Eyes sending him a very clear message right there: Nanami was angry. Very angry.

“Gojo Satoru, how could you do this to us?!”, she yelled, followed by the younger Fushiguro.

Gojo opened his eyes in surprise, knowing exactly what she was doing. They wanted to embarrass him.

“I work TWO jobs just to keep us all going, I offered to help you with YOUR mistress’ kid after SHE left YOU, and you don’t even have the guts to tell me… there’s ANOTHER KID?!”.

All the girls that just minutes before eyed him up and down, now looked at him with disgust, and Gojo felt his cheeks grow redder by second.

“Nanami-san has done so much for us, and you still lied to her, you’re gross!”, Megumi added, pulling up his best distressed kid act.

At the entrance of the school, a teacher waited with the few kids that hadn’t left with their horrified parents already. Behind a tall, blonde boy, a small girl with a dark ponytail looked at Megumi with confusion.

Megumi ran to her, the teacher recognising the problematic child as her brother, and didn’t bother asking who the screaming teenagers were. She had heard about the Fushiguro sibling’s parents, so she wasn’t surprised nor doubted that everything the blonde was yelling was true.

It didn’t seem too strange for Tsumiki’s mother to have had an affair and fled, and it was known by everyone at the school that Megumi’s father had been out of the picture for almost a year now.

She did, however, feel bad about that poor girl. She looked truly hurt, and having to take care of a kid like Fushiguro…

“But Suki I-“, Gojo tried to get her to shut up, eyes apologising with urgency.

“Get in the car Satoru, I can’t even- I can’t even look at you right now. Let’s go kids”.

Megumi and his sister were soon sitting in the back of the car, followed by Suki, and lastly by Gojo.

The younger boy looked at Suki through the mirror, and the girl met his eyes, before they crashed into laughs, much to Gojo’s displeasure.

When they calmed down, and Suki apologised to Gojo with the cinnamon rolls she had bought, Megumi explained the situation to his sister. How their father wasn’t going to come back, and neither was their mother.

Tsumiki was very scared at the beginning, for the both of them, but when the pretty blonde senior pulled up at their apartment, and called Megumi by his name, she felt very relieved.

Megumi never let anyone call him by his first name, as he didn’t like it. Only she herself was allowed, as she didn’t really remember her mother or his father being around that much anyways. But if he let that girl do it too, then she was truly trustworthy.

“Megumi, why didn’t you tell me about Tsumiki, hm?”, she asked, and the little girl felt shy under her intimidating eyes.

“I dunno”, he shrugged a little, inexpressive eyes on hers, “I didn’t think I’d stay with you for too long, she’d have been okay with the neighbours until I got ba-”.

Tsumiki gasped when the blonde girl put her hand on Megumi’s head, messing his hair. But to her surprise, her brother didn’t do anything more than sighing and rolling his eyes, starting to walk towards the building, followed by the girl.

She looked at them with big eyes, then up at the white haired boy, who gave her a big smile.

“Did you know Toji?”, the little girl asked him, as they too started walking.

“Mhm. Before he decided to leave forever, he asked me to keep an eye on ‘Gumi. You know, ‘cause he can be kiiiinda problematic sometimes”.

The little girl laughed, nodding shyly, and the boy’s smile grew. At least this one liked him.

They walked to the apartment door, slightly open as Megumi was inside, while Suki stood in front of the door next to it, talking to an old woman.

She bent down, hands pressed together, as she thanked the lady who looked at her with a sweet, warm smile.

“Thank you so much for taking care of them these past months, Hosho-san. My husband and I will take on from here... We found out a few days ago about what happened to Fushiguro-san and his wife… and we came all the way from Kioto just yesterday. I hope they haven’t been too much work, and my husband is more than willing to help with any economic matter that they can have caused to your family”.

Gojo smirked at her words. Suki’s ability to create stories to get them out of trouble had been saving their asses for years now, and it never stopped amazing him. Plus, pretending that Fushiguro senior was a family friend, and they were a young marriage taking the kids, was the perfect story to keep away anyone suspicious of them.

“Oh, no, no, dear. They’re wonderful, please don’t worry about anything. It’s more than enough to know that someone will be taking proper care of them from now on”.

Suki nodded and gave the old woman a smile, before Gojo wrapped his arm around her, chin resting on top of her head.

“Megumi is already picking up his things, baby. Why don’t you go help him and Tsumiki while I thank Hosho-san here?”.

He also gave the lady a smile, a charming, sweet one, and the woman blushed softly with a chuckle. Suki smiled, rolling her eyes as she walked in, leaving the white haired boy to continue adding to their story so she could help the kids without any other neighbour coming around.

Tsumiki was sitting in the living room, a yellow bag with white flowers already prepared on the floor. It didn’t take too much for anyone to realise Megumi had prepared it for her, as he walked in first and was still starting his.

The blonde girl sighed softly, sitting on the couch next to the little girl, who put her hands on her own lap, holding them together to hide the way they were slightly shaking.

Suki wasn’t sure about Megumi’s plan, using his first name so Tsumiki would see her as someone of trust, but at least they had found her.

“Tsumiki-”.

“Thank you for taking us in, Nanami-san!”, the little girl almost yelled, head down.

Nanami looked at her with soft eyes, a little smile plastered on her face as she nodded.

“Would you like me to braid your hair like mine, while we wait? I think it’d look good on you, Tsumiki”.

Her hair was almost matted, knots making it impossible to even try to brush it. The little girl sobbed when the scissors started snapping, balls of blonde hair falling at her feet.

The also young boy sighed deeply as he continued to cut his sister's hair, both of them eight by the time.

“It’ll grow again, healthier”.

“I look like a boy!”, the little girl sobbed harder.

Her brother sighed, holding her in his arms, and shook his head.

“When it grows again, I’ll learn how to braid it okay? I promise. You won’t need mom to do it. I will do it”.

The little girl sniffed softly, rubbing her eyes with her little shaky hands, but nodded.

“Thank you, Ken”.

The little girl looked up at her with bright eyes, nodding her head fast and excitedly, and Suki signaled her to go get a hair brush and a ribbon, which the little girl ran to do.

Her hair was lighter than Megumi’s, not exactly black, but a dark shade of brown, very straight and shiny. She was too young to have any heat damage, and Suki brushed it carefully, as the younger girl looked at their reflection on the TV while sitting as still as she could.

From Megumi’s bedroom, Gojo stood against the door frame, moving his eyes from the kid to the girls. Suki had managed to calm down the little girl immediately, and she had gotten Megumi to collaborate with her all day.

She had a weird talent he didn’t have. He could make Tsumiki laugh, and could get Megumi to follow him, but he couldn’t get them to relax, to trust like Nanami had in a night and barely an hour.

Satoru opened his mouth to speak, just in time for Suki’s phone to start ringing. On top of the screen, a name popped up: Kitamura Nagisa.

Suki finished tying the ribbon to the little girl’s braid, and just then realised she had forgotten her plans for the day, a wave of anxiety hitting her like a truck.

“Your phone’s ringing, Suk- Oh”, Gojo spoke, watching her sit there, blocked, phone in hand, “What are you doing?”.

The blonde girl simply signaled him to shut up, taking a deep breath before picking up.

“Hey, Nanami”, the boy’s voice was raspy, and Suki sighed softly at it, ears turning red just by the sound, “Are you okay? I sent you like twelve messages, are we still meeting for lunch? I’ve been waiting here for fifteen minutes now”.

Suki bit her lip, looking at the kids, both of them ready now as Megumi walked out of the room with his bag.

“I- Uh… I am so sorry, Kitamura, I should have called you but something important came up, and I… I forgot completely”.

The boy chuckled softly, Suki’s embarrassment noticeable in her voice.

“No worries, Nanami… Is everything okay? Anything I can help you with?”.

“Hm… actually just… a family friend passed away!”, she spit out, and in front of her, Gojo raised an eyebrow, not understanding why the Suki was so nervous.

“I’m so sorry for your loss, Nanami, I had no idea”.

Suki sighed. She didn’t want to lie to Nagisa. But she definitely couldn’t tell him the truth.

“Thank you, it’s just… He had two kids, and he didn’t have any more family… So it was either Kento and I , or my parents taking them in…”, she almost whispered the last part, avoiding Satoru’s confused gaze, “So you know, we kind of had to do it. A friend and I are helping them with their stuff right now”.

All she got for a minute was a hum, and silence, her heart beating faster than ever before inside her ribcage.

“Why don’t we have dinner together then, yes? I’ll bring take out, and I’ll help you get everything ready”.

Gojo frowned at his words. He had heard Nanami and Shoko talk about that boy, Kitamura, before. But he didn’t know the blonde girl and him were close like that, to have secrets that he apparently didn’t know.

It’s not like it angered him, or anything, he’d explain, it just annoyed him that Suki hadn’t told him. Yeah, that was it, and that’s that.

“You don’t mind? Kento will be home…”.

“And so will I! Is it a problem, Kitamura, huh?”, Satoru’s voice rose over Suki’s, getting a death glare from the girl.

“Not a problem at all. Any friend of Nanami is of mine”, the boy replied, and one could feel the smirk in his voice, “See you tonight then, Suki. You too, dude”.

And with that, Nagisa hung up, leaving a cold ambience in the room between Suki and Satoru, that made even the kids shiver.

n/a: i did say slowburn and i intend on keeping my word thank u v much SORRY FOR TAKING SO LONG ON UPDATING :( the ending was shit but im SO TIRED forgive me ily <3

taglist: @expectoscamander @tsun444mi @helvegen-s @theworldis-ahead @evans-dejong @crzyinluve

[lxmelle]

Megumi and Yuji are a bit like Geto and Gojo ... If Gojo was more honest (or emotionally-intelligent?) he would’ve been a bit more determined to save Geto, even if he had given up on himself to pursue some crazy ideal at the expense of himself. Maybe even before. But - Geto had already killed his family (parents) and there was no turning back. He had burned all his bridges and barely left any room for Gojo to talk to him, walking away as soon as he felt slighted.

Geto convinced himself he was cast away. Gojo couldn’t find the words to convey what he truly felt. They both felt the weight of responsibility (loosely, to protect: with power / influence) to sit solely on their own shoulders, instead of being shared.

I’m not assigning any blame whatsoever or attributing the situation to either one of them. They likely had very emotionally-isolating upbringings, and the one secure connection they had (between them) was not able to be repaired when it ruptured. They did their absolute best in the years apart to compensate for whatever they lacked, for the sake of a higher good.

If Gojo self-reflected over the years (which he had in abundance) over any similarities with his students, I wonder if he’d be proud (and inspired) by their determination to fight for each other, even if their methods to fight alone mimic his own pursuit and style of strength that practically requires him to fight on his own.

What the students end up doing to protect and preserve each other to defeat Sukuna following his death - by fighting relay-style - may have been something an AU “Gojo-Geto-Nanami as teachers” may have developed so solo fighters can do their thing and tap out for another (or two or three) to join the fighting ring - but this is a “what if” scenario about the best outcome, but jjk isn’t like that, and hindsight is a wonderful thing.

But back to what I wanted to say: it seems like Gojo had changed and recognised what he wished was different.

Love being the most twisted of curses. Geto was his only weakness; maybe his biggest regret.

Following their reunion, Gojo was seen to be more honest than ever with Geto - almost like he was trying to make up for the distance, to close it back up, to reach out like he never did before. Saying embarrassing things he’d never have thought to say. Geto, too, softening in response to Gojo’s admission of trust, admitting he had been suffering all this while.

For Gojo, it was like a confession twice over. Maybe things he wished he had said that Geto should have known; whether or not it would have made a difference. You’re my best friend (I hope we meet again), if you were there I might’ve been satisfied (I need you).

And if you count in the first time they met again (with the pelican arriving at Jujutsu High), Gojo said, “Leaving? Not on my watch.” (Don’t leave.) — but I’m sure this was more out of protection for the kids, lol.

Let me dream a little 😂

How could they go back? What could have been different? At the KFC breakup,… It wasn’t as if Gojo wanted to insult Geto, but young Gojo didn’t know it wasn’t actually about STRENGTH, was it? It never was. Strength was the thing that tore them apart.

And instead of - you know, saying what he actually felt: Why? Don’t leave. You’re my best friend; my one and only (I love you). I need you with me. What can we do?

I wonder if Gojo kept all this in his heart … and when they got to meet again, these words just kept tumbling out. It’s so nice to see him being honest without a persona on.

I can only hope they keep talking and talking in the afterlife, or in a life happier than what they had following their separation.

[spacegirlapollo]

Staying Away [Nanami Kento x Reader] [nsfw]

Title: Staying Away 

Genre :  A little fluff, implied smut, nanami’s inner tourmoil about loving you. 

word count: 1500

Nanami Kento had tried his best to stay away from you. But how could he ? The world of jujutsu sorcerers was too small. And the fact that you were very good friends with Gojo Sataru didn’t help things either. He saw you more often than he’d like, you had a knack for showing up when he least expected it.Almost every run in with you ended with him going home and rubbing one out, your name hanging from his lips like a prayer.

He knew to much now to be naive and deny that he was in love. In his very typical Nanami way, he’d come to the conclusion and accepted it. He was in love with you. Butthat didn’t change anything did it? The line of work you were both in was dangerous, put simply. One day he was not going to return to his home at the end of the day, because he would have been killed by some powerful curse or the other. This too was a fact that he’d understood and accepted.The thought of being happy with you was so tempting it made his heart ache, but the thought of one day not returning home toyou tainted the picture. Worse yet, the thought of you being the one to not return paralyzed him.

So he didn’t act on his feelings. Not even when you’d be excited to see him, and chat with him about all his favorite things, because he hadn’t been able to deny you a conversation since the day you’d meet. You knew things about him that he’d never really spoken out loud to anyone else.It was as if your smile and kind words put a spell on him and he couldn’t help sharing.

As you often accompanied Gojo, Nanami would feel overwhelming relief when you weren’t trailing behind, but crushing disappointment all at once. It was frankly quite annoying the hold you had on his thoughts. Nanami knew Gojo quite well, and was afraid that Gojo was the second person who’d understood him a little too well.He’d never spoken it out loud but Nanami knew that Gojo was aware of the feelings he shared for you. Which is why he started to bring you around more often.

Nanami was trying his best to stay away from you. He didn’t know you would be at the bar, that night. He guessed that maybe some part of him did. He hadn’t seen you in almost a month now. He’d been to busy as it was the start of the winter months and curses seemed to multiply in number during that time. Gojo had invited him, a few drinks for someone’s birthday that they knew. Why else would he have gone if not to see you.

And he drank. Nervous, at the thought of seeing you, wondering if he should head home. But he caught sight of you before long. Gorgeous. Flashing him that disarming smile. And Dammit he was already a bit drunk. You’d teased his flushed appearance, which only served to make him more flushed.You mumbled something about catching up with him and had a few drinks yourself.

Flirting? He thinks that’s what the conversation had lead to. You were so close that your hips were touching now. Talking just below the music so you both had to lean in. He could smell that pretty scent that wafted from you confusing his senses. When had he learned to flirt ? His brain was screaming at him to be anywhere but here.

He could hear your words echoing around in his head.

“So whys a handsome guy like you single?”

“ The lifespan of people in our line of work is not very long.”

You raised an eyebrow. Your head resting on arm leaning around the bar.

“So you fear death?”

“not death exactly , but the hole it’ll leave behind.”

You were quiet for the first time that night. Maybe he’d said something wrong.

“What about you?” He heard himself asking. You smiled again. 

“Do I fear death?” “ no, why are you single?”

Your flirtatious face broke in shock for split second before you were smiling again turning away to say. 

“there is someone I like, but he’s got a healthy fear of death.”

Nanami’s heart was racing. Maybe he knew your feelings, but it was different hearing you say them. He’d opened his mouth to say sosomething else but was interrupted but Gojo, of course.

“Don’t you leave nearby Y/N’s place Nanami? You should take a taxi back together.”

And you two were being stuffed in a taxi and whisked across Tokyo. Through drunk eyes Tokyo was washed out lights, and he stared out the window to avoid seeing you.

“Nanami.”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t want to be alone, tonight.”

Nanami was trying his hardest to stay away from you. But maybe he was kidding himself. He’d kissed you. In the back of that taxi. Trying to remember every second of it. And when the taxi stopped outside his apartment, he’d helped you out of the car. His thoughts where screaming at him. To call you a new taxi. Send you home. But he didn’t.You stumbled into his apartment, and he couldn’t keep his hands off you. He was on fire and your skin was so cool. He’d stopped trying to fool himself that night as he fucked you into the mattress your breathy moans of his name egging him deeper. And fuck if it didn’t feel good.

Fuck If he didn’t love seeing your face in the morning, even if he had a slight headache. And he’d taken you again, slower this time, the sun lazily coming down over the bed, the covers half way down his back and he pressed some of his weight on you to be close as possible. As deep as possible.He doesn’t think he’ll get over the feeling of your hands in his hair, now messy from sleep. Or the way your hips arch to meet his as you take him. He doesn’t want to forget the sounds escaping your mouth or your face as you cum again.

He makes breakfast, while you shower. And the sounds of life in the apartment make him feel.... something.... safe ? His brain was starting to run again, and he was aware that this was something he shouldn’t get used to. Even though he was feeling .... content.

He took a deep sigh when you’d come out in one of his shirts, your own clothes in a wash cycle. He’d have taken you again there, wet hair and legs showing, your breast not very covered by his too large shirt. But the food would get cold. And he was going to be on his best behavior now. You began to eat. And almost like you were reading his mind you spoke before he could.

“If your going to say sorry- don’t.”Nanami froze. You looked up at him from your food, swallowing before continuing.

“ I like you- a lot- well actually I. “ your cheeks were burning and he thinks this the first time he’s seen you flustered.“Actually I’m in love with you, Nanami Kento.”

Even though the food smelled delicious, Nanami couldn’t bring himself to eat a bite. Your words were too much. His thoughts were swirling a Mile a minute , his heart racing. This feeling was even better than any feeling he’d ever had. And it was so scary.

You pressed on determined.“ and ... and I think maybe you have feelings for me to, so... so you should take me on a date.”

Nanami was floored. Out of all the things he’d expected you to say this was not it. He opened his mouth to speak but you kept going, seeming unable to stop your word vomit now that you started.“ Yes, our jobs are dangerous but like you said our life is to short to deny ourselves each other right? So... so you should take me on a date....”

You opened your mouth to speak again after your pause, but Nanami reached out and put a hand over yours. You stopped , and he saw just how vulnerable you were being now, nervous even. It was adorable. “ Do you like coffee ?” He asked you nodded silently and Nanami smiled.“Okay then, how about tomorrow, I’ll pick you up.”You nodded again. Nanami leaned forward now, bringing you closer a finger tucked under your chin. He kissed you again. This time he isn’t thinking it will be the last. When he finally pulls away you start eating again shyly unable to hide your grin.

Nanami thinks The hum of the washing machine and the sounds of a occupied apartment were something he didn’t want to give up. There might be a day where he won’t be able to see it anymore but all he could do was enjoy the days he could.