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Jujutsu Kaisen X Reader - Blog Posts
jealous, jealous, jealous boy! ft. best friend!Sukuna
a/n: mini little prequel/bonus backstory to baby daddy!Sukuna
best friend!Sukuna who is very much not in love with you, his once shy study partner turned well, as close as he could get to word friend over the past few years of boring subjects and complicated coursework
library visits and late nights where he ended up back in your dorm, crashing in your cramped bed before you'd drag him out for coffee in the mornings
you were just, uh, a really good friend
best friend!Sukuna who might wake up in your sheets and use up half your shampoo, still has never once cared about walking you to class
well, until today
best friend!Sukuna who thinks you're an idiot, no, he knows it when you enter with an even bigger one by your side, as if that stuck-up prick was carrying your books for anything other than the excuse to worm his way into your life panties
(but maybe Sukuna's the biggest one of all for ever allowing enough space for him to exist between you)
best friend!Sukuna who trips Gojo when he goes to walk past him, just to send that asshole into your arms when you happen to turn around, his hands snagging your waist and his face buried into your chest - like he could make his intentions any more obvious
best friend!Sukuna who still feigns innocence when you throw him a silent glare as you help your new pal stand up, cheeks flushed as you grab the sleeve of his shirt and drag him to seats in the other side of the classroom despite the seat Sukuna had clearly been saving for you
whatever, it was just one class
right?
best friend!Sukuna who somehow ends up stuck listening to Gojo bragging about your tits a few hours later in the locker room, one row over while the white-haired prick runs his mouth about you inviting him to study in your dorm after hockey practice tonight
jealousy was for losers
this burning feeling, coiling and tangling tighter in his gut with each cocky word that echoed back in his brain?
pure indignation
best friend!Sukuna who takes his anger out on the ice, but instead of slamming the puck into the goal, he's slamming his elbow into that asshole's eye, not particularly giving a shit how long he gets benched as long as Gojo was left with something black and blue to show for it
satisfaction sticking to him and repelling every reprimand and shout from his coach about injuring their star player days before their next game, forced to stay an extra half-hour while the rest of the team returned to the locker room to leave before him
best friend!Sukuna whose brain is still on you in the shower, scrubbing the sweat off his skin and wondering what the fuck you could see in someone like Gojo that was better than him
so why not just ask?
best friend!Sukuna who shows up at your door before even dropping his stuff back at his own dorm, impatiently knocking when you don't answer any of his texts to let him in
best friend!Sukuna who hears it then
the familiar chuckle cutting through the cheap wood separating you, your hushed giggle before the quiet footsteps approaching
best friend!Sukuna who doesn't want to notice your tousled hair or the wrinkles in your shirt, doesn't want to pick up on how you barely peek through the crack at first, keeping the door mostly shut to shield what's inside
but he does
and you see it too
best friend!Sukuna who can't hide the cutting edge to his question of what or who you were doing, the uncomfortable confrontation of being forced to face feelings floating to the surface despite his best attempts to drown them
and you're just staring back at him with an alarmingly cute crease between your brows, lips pushed together before they finally part to ask him something he wasn't ready to hear - was there a reason you shouldn't be with him?
he knew what it was
a challenge or a confession or something in-between
but before he could answer, before he could say something stupid and sappy like yes, you should obviously be with me, a pale hand was on your shoulders squeezing it as his new least favorite person with a fresh black eye stepped behind you to interrupt
best friend!Sukuna who will get you back - sooner or later
divider by @v6que !!
AMAZING FANART FOR THIS HERE !!
Choso x gn reader ( @berryghostbunny )
college au
warning: mention of throw up
summary: You and Choso go to a college party
Your first college party. You had been warned about college parties, pacing yourself, keeping an eye on your drink, don't sleep with strangers, etc. But you didn't worry too much because you had your boyfriend to protect you.
One problem tho... You were terrible at pacing yourself. an hour into the party you were the drunkest you have ever been and it was starting to get a bit overwhelming.
You sat on the couch of what you guessed was the living room when the whole room started to get hot. The music started to become muffled, and the people blurred into moving lights.
You tried to calm yourself by getting some water but as soon as you stood up you felt nauseous.
You flashed a look to Choso which he got immediately the hit and was at your side in an instant.
"Maybe we should get some fresh air, love." Choso wrapped an arm around your waist and guided you outside where there was a porch swing. He gently sat you down,
"I'll be back with some water." He pecked your head before running inside.
As you sat there and waited for him when the nauseous feeling came back, you quickly leaned over the porch railing and let everything out.
"Oh baby," You didn't even notice Choso come up behind you until he had his hand on your back. running his hand up and down soothingly, "Maybe it's time for us to go home."
You were about to object but you had to throw up again.
When you were finished wiped your mouth and leaned back to look at him. He smiled at you as he handed you a bottle of water.
"Let's go home."
*bonus*
At home Choso ran you a bath.
"Feeling better, love?" He said while sitting on the side of the bathtub resting his hand on your arm.
"So much better... Why don't you join me."
"I want to make sure you feel better."
"I already told you I do and I'll feel 10 times better if you join me." You raise your hand to place over his that touches your arm. He took that hand and brought it to his lips, leaving a gentle kiss.
"Your wish is my command, love."
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Choso x gn reader ( @berryghostbunny )
college au
warning: mention of throw up
summary: You and Choso go to a college party
Your first college party. You had been warned about college parties, pacing yourself, keeping an eye on your drink, don't sleep with strangers, etc. But you didn't worry too much because you had your boyfriend to protect you.
One problem tho... You were terrible at pacing yourself. an hour into the party you were the drunkest you have ever been and it was starting to get a bit overwhelming.
You sat on the couch of what you guessed was the living room when the whole room started to get hot. The music started to become muffled, and the people blurred into moving lights.
You tried to calm yourself by getting some water but as soon as you stood up you felt nauseous.
You flashed a look to Choso which he got immediately the hit and was at your side in an instant.
"Maybe we should get some fresh air, love." Choso wrapped an arm around your waist and guided you outside where there was a porch swing. He gently sat you down,
"I'll be back with some water." He pecked your head before running inside.
As you sat there and waited for him when the nauseous feeling came back, you quickly leaned over the porch railing and let everything out.
"Oh baby," You didn't even notice Choso come up behind you until he had his hand on your back. running his hand up and down soothingly, "Maybe it's time for us to go home."
You were about to object but you had to throw up again.
When you were finished wiped your mouth and leaned back to look at him. He smiled at you as he handed you a bottle of water.
"Let's go home."
*bonus*
At home Choso ran you a bath.
"Feeling better, love?" He said while sitting on the side of the bathtub resting his hand on your arm.
"So much better... Why don't you join me."
"I want to make sure you feel better."
"I already told you I do and I'll feel 10 times better if you join me." You raise your hand to place over his that touches your arm. He took that hand and brought it to his lips, leaving a gentle kiss.
"Your wish is my command, love."
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Warning : choking (not kinky), angst
this is a bit graphic
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You and Suguru had just put the girls down for a nap. They were in a new and safe environment thanks to Sugu at the cost of 30 lives.
You and Sugu are laying down
Suguru- do you think I did the right thing.
You - for the villagers yes. For your parents no.
He rolls on his side to look you in the eyes.
Sugu- they weren't sorcerers, to make a perfect world there must be no exceptions
You - I understand that part but to kill every non sorcerer... It's so extreme.
He stays silent
Sugu - even so will you help me.
Now it was your turn to be silent.
Sugu- y/n?
You - I love you suguru
Sugu - y/n
You - I love you so much
He rolls over to be on top of you
Sugu - I love you too
He leans down to kiss you, you accept. Deep kiss
Sugu- I'm so sorry
Quickly his hand are squeezing your neck. You struggle, trying to get him off, kicking, clawing at his face. Out of the corner of your eye you see the girls hugging the door prame, terrified.
You try harder to get his attention.
You- sugu _ th- the girls
His hands instantly loosen as he turns to look. He quickly looks up to tend to them while you catch your breath.
He leaves the room to put them back to bed. When he comes back you are gone.
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ngl I wrote this while high so idk where i was going with this but I don't want to change it.
Hi Can I Ask Gojo, Megumi,Shinobu,Sanemi, Tengen, Mitsuri and Itadori With The Father Figure Reader How They Would Act If They Discovered Pictures On The Internet Of Their Dad At The Club Drinking And Basically Being The Life Of The Party Picking Up Lots Of Women.
And The Other Day S/O Not remembering anything
◡̈⋆ʜᴇʟʟᴏ(●’◡’●)ﾉ
Kimetsu Academy
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»»————>Demon slayer<————««
Shinobu
She found you passed out on your kitchen floor
She didn't know why until a few days later
Her classmates saw the video and immediately showed her
They thought it was just some drunk dude and not her father
She's not mad just disappointed
She watched you chug an inhuman amount of beer then have a contest with another drunk to see who could (seemingly) dance better, sing, you even jumped on a pool table
the table didn't break but it sure did leave you sore in the morning
"Dad, are you serious?" She approached you with an unusual frown.
"What'd I do."
"What didn't you do. There is a video of you drunk out of your mind going around." She angrily pulled out her phone and showed you. She didn't give you time to speak before she went off again.
"I wouldn't be mad if I didn't see you drink so much. You drank like it was your last day on earth. You not as young as you think you are, you need to watch what you do." She started to sound worried and it made you feel bad.
"I'm sorry Shinobu. I won't happen again."
Sanemi
Sanemi was waiting for his students to arrive when he saw the video
He didn't know how to react
The who he called dad was dancing half naked to a crowd of people cheering him on
You were singing and everything
The only thing you had on were pants and socks
Everything else was nowhere to be seen
He was on his break when realized he forgot his lunch and like a good dad you brought it for him
He wasn't going to say anything but he just had to tell you
You were about to leave when he stopped you by grabbing your arm.
"Wait umm... Did you go out recently?" He asked nervously, not making eye contact.
"Yeah. Why did something happen?"
"You could say that." He showed you the video.
"I-i don't remember any of that." You swore as you cringed at your attempt at singing.
After the video stopped playing the both of you sat in silence. It was awkward.
Tengen
He thinks it hilarious
He was in the middle of making his explosive arts when he got a message from Makio saying "Get your dad before he hurts himself"
He had a good laugh watching you dance like there was no tomorrow
You had a chugging contest, played strip poker, made out with men and women
then blacked out
He couldn't be mad when you looked so happy
When he got home, you were being lectured by all three of his wives
"What would possess you to be so reckless? You could've gotten hurt." Makio says with Suma holding her back. You looked like a deer caught in headlights.
"But I'm perfectly fine and besides I don't even remember." You tried to ease her anger but it didn't work. She was about to explode when tengen helped Suma and Hina hold her.
"Whoa Whoa what's going on?"
"You saw the video. You saw this idiot."
"I think it was flashy. He was having fun and living his life to the fullest so I see no problem with him drinking every once in a while... With that being said you're not drinking without me there ever again."
Mitsuri
If you're happy, she's happy
but damn
She's never seen you act out in anyway
In her eyes you were a sweet and kind second father
Obanai found you when you went to the wrong house
He called Mitsuri and she came running
"Y/N I WAS SO WORRIED." Kanroji clung to you like her life depended on it.
"Worried? What happened?"
She pulled away and looked you up and down.
"You got drunk and blacked out." Obanai explained.
"Really?" You thought for a second. "I don't remember a thing."
"I bet."
Mitsuri hugged you again but this time tighter.
Who could refuse a hug from the love Hashira.
(Obanai stood to the side wishing it was him)
»»————>Jujustu Kaisen<————««
Itadori
He was scrolling on TikTok when a caption caught his eye
"DILF still knows how to party"
It a collage of 3 photos with a video at the end
first photo: You taking shots
second pic: A young woman in a crop top and mini skirt (?) grinding on
third pick: You taking body shots off the same woman
The video was You dancing with a woman on each side of you and another throwing it back on you
Gojo posted it
You were sitting on the couch when Yuji approached you.
"Uh dad... is this you?"
You watched the video completely confused you even took the phone from him to get a better look.
You go to the page to see Gojo's profile
You were gonna kill him.
Megumi
He was woken up by you drunk (with the asistance of someone you met at the club) and knocking at the door trying to find your 7 y/o son
he's 16
A few days later Nobara sends him a video on insta
You didn't have a shirt on and was making out with someone in the back of a club
He texted "..." to nobara
He sent the video to you
"When was that"
"I don't remember going to a club"
"I swear I don't remember anything"
Megumi remembers it
(the night in question)
*knock knock knock*
Megumi looked through the peep whole of the door to see you leaning on an unfamiliar woman.
When he opens the door the woman is quick to hand you off.
"Hi, is this your dad he's okay, just really drunk. Sorry for the intrusion." She said as was steadily backed up until she was out of sight.
"mmmmmegumi when did you get so tall." You try to stand up straight to compare you height but you end up falling backwards and falling.
From your spot on the ground you get a look at his face.
"Toji?"
"Who?"
*silence*
You passed out.
Gojo
He took you to the club and expected you to drink a little and go home
When things got wild he didn't have a heart to stop you
"But you looked like you were having so much fun"
If things did get too out of hand he would've got you
He took videos and pictures
He saved one as his home screen
"Who knew an old guy like you could party that hard." Gojo casually dissed you as he scrolled through his phone.
You ignored him thinking he was just pulling your leg.
"I've never seen you drunk before."
You ignored him again.
"You even flirted with a woman. You promised you take her home, she was into you too."
You were going to ignore him again but he played a video of you talking to the woman.
You couldn't help but check it out.
You could barely recognize yourself and Gojo was eating it up.
He was so proud of himself.
Hi Can I order Gojo,Itadori and Megumi Seeing Male S/O Like a Father. I almost never see requests for Jujutsu Kaisen
◡̈⋆ʜᴇʟʟᴏ(●’◡’●)ﾉ yeah don't really get many jjk requests prolly cause i haven't read the manga but I've seen most of the spoilers already
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Itadori
He needs a RESPONSIBLE male figure in his life (besides nanami of course)
His grandfather already gave him many life lesson that stuck but you were what really kept him on a straight path
He came to you with all of his problems
When he ate sukana's finger he didn't know how to tell you but it seemed like you already knew
you never pressured him to do anything that he didn't want to do and
Megumi
You met him when he was a kid
Him and his sister needed a place to stay and although you didn't have much it was all that they needed
When he was in middle school you constantly was on his case about behavior and the example he was setting for his sister
He didn't listen to you at first but he did think about what you said when he was beating up kids
Gojo
You're the sweetest man he's ever met
Always smiling, always upbeat
He acts like a child
constantly jumps on your back and hangs on like a koala
You hardly ever get mad at him so he makes it his mission to make you mad
it never works and ends up with you annoying him
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Could you write how jjk would react to Male Reader being the host of the ghost Rider and that the ghost Rider has unlimited power when fully unleashed and the host is the built in safety limiting it's power
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"Domain Expansion: Ghost Rider" You said. You been itching for a reason to use it.
Your domain isn't complete but it's what you wanted to try seeing as, under Gojo's guidance, you improved a lot and thought it was a good chance.
The curse you were up against had no chance to begin with, it didn't even last a second.
"As cool as always Y/n" Gojo said from the sidelines.
With Gojo he was always amazed to see your domain expansion. blue fire everywhere and of course a flaming samuri on top a horse for you to control.
"Thank you gojo, can we go back now I'm really tired." You yawned, resting your eyes.
Domain expansion takes alot out of you, especially for someone who is harboring a curse on the level of Sukana's full power and it wasn't even a complete Domain.
You don't know when or how but when you opened your eyes you were in your room.
'I'm freaking starving.' you thought as you got up you walked out of your room.
(idk how the dorms look)
"Good morning Y/n. It's been 2 days, the 3 stooges were starting to get worried." Gojo said completely stretched out on a couch in the common area.
"is that so." You walked pass him and into a little kitchen to the fridge. It was empty.
'damn.'
"Gojo can you -" "Y/N" Yuji interrupted jumping on you. You fell to the floor with him.
"He just woke up. Are you trying to put him in another coma?" Nobara scold as she pulled him off you. Megumi helped you up.
"Maybe not open an incomplete domain next time you may not wake up." He said, it was clear he probably was worried the most.
"Why so cynical Gumi, he's alive isn't he and it's so cool to his curse in action." Gojo gushed over you as his lazy ass finally got up.
"Why don't we catch Y/n up over lunch. I'm sure he's hungry." Gojo put his arms around you and Megumi, leading you out the school with Yuji and Nobara in toe.
'Finally, some fucking food'
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This is my first JJK post, thank youuuuuuu
Masterlist + Rules
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Genshin Impact
Demon Slayer (have read manga)
JoJo's Bizarre Adventure (not finished stone ocean)
Toilet bound Hanako kun (have read manga)
Castlevania (finished)
Mob Psycho (finished)
Spy x family (not far into manga)
Jujutsu Kaisen (not read manga but I have been spoiled)
Hazbin Hotel
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Rules-
What I write
fluff
Angst
Child reader (Platonic Only)
Headcannons
--------
What I don't write
Smut / lemon / lime
Yandere
huge age gaps
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New year - new masterlist
HAPPY NEW YEARS
let's make the most of 2023
- I'm class of 2024
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New Year- I'm so ready to graduate
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ANOTHER NEW YEAR AND ANOTHER 4 YEARS
-2025
genuinely so excited for the plans that i have guys YOU DONT EVEN KNOW
live photo of me yapping my article length ideas at the wall
profiles pt.3 || extras
m.list || yn’s group - 2etherial - posts
A/N-
・Gojo and Geto’s lore/jobs are HEAVILY inspired by this one headcannon/drabble i saw about gojo accidentally becoming an influencer-and it kills me that i dont remember who wrote it
・Amanai is actually yn’s cousin, not too closely related but they met eachother at a family gathering one time and have been joined at the hip since-and yes they DO call eachother before a gathering to make sure the other is going
@sereniteav @iamyujisbitch @sad-darksoul @scrappedup @taelattecookie @kenmakodz @lacrimae-lotos
Cupid’s Chokehold‼️
Is it possible to never even interact with someone who’s been friends with your entire friend group since high school? apparently. But never say never.
no curse au; she/her pronouns used
band member!inumaki x musician/streamer!yn
status: indefinite hiatus
taglist: open by request through my inbox
so many ideas for this series hopefully i’ll be able to get to them all :D she did not. rip.
yn’s group | 2etherial| | extras | posts
chp. 1 - From The Start ~✎
chp. 2 - December
chp. 3 - Tek It
chp. 4 - Misty ~✎
chp. 5 - Rhythm of the Rain ~✎
chp. 6 - Love Grows ~✎
chp. 7 - In My Mind ~✎
chp. 8 - I Will
chp. 9 - ???
chp. 10 - ???
best viewed in dark mode (or any mode but default or rave tbh)
dividers sourced from pinterest
Ten to None (Gojo x Reader/Soulmate AU)
*GIF not mine*
Summary: Soulmates’ markings add up to ten so soulmates know just how much of a danger their soulmate is to them. You have a ten on your wrist, so you know your soulmate must have a zero. There’s just one problem: no one in history has ever been worthy of a danger rating of ten, so who the hell is the supposedly “invincible god” were you fated to?
A/N: yikes that summary. Anyways, nobody got a soulmate au gojo out there that tickles my fancy, so here I am writing my own. Hope y’all like it! (Side note: this took me fucking A G E S)
Word count: 10406
“A ten. Dear God.”
“Oh-Oh my God, what do we do?”
“Nobody’s ever had… Jesus.”
A nurse had fainted when she saw the ten on the inside of your soft, newborn right wrist. The font was curling and slanted, almost as if it had been written nonchalantly with a few flicks of the wrist. Two black digits marred the plump flesh, unmissable.
Unmissable no matter how much your parents averted their gaze each time they saw it.
It wasn’t until kindergarten when your local bully ripped off the bandaid your parents pleaded with you to keep secure over your right wrist that you realized just how odd your number was. A circle of curious, mumbling five-year-olds formed around you, each one holding out their own wrists to compare.
Threes, twos, a couple fives and perhaps even a seven appeared in your vision. None of their wrists had been abraded by a freshly torn-off bandaid.
“Hold on, doesn’t it go one, two,... three, um…”
“No, no, it’s one, two, four-”
“Hey, what’s going on over here?”
Your swarming flock had gathered the attention of a recess aid. Her neon yellow fanny pack almost blinded you as she pushed through the crowd and towered over your cowering form.
“They’re m-making fun of me,” you whimpered, snot dribbling down onto your upper lip
“Why’s her number so big?” Another child cut in, pointing an accusatory finger at your forearm.
The aid never responded to the other child’s question, nor did she defend you from them. Instead, when her gaze locked on the number on the inside of your wrist, she gasped.
Profanities your whole class had never heard were exposed to them that day, which they promptly repeated at any given chance out of the watchful gazes of adults. The recess aid had whispered them under her breath, eyes wide behind the sunglasses drooping on her nose. When she grabbed at your arm, she wrenched you up and glanced at your wrist once more, blinking a couple times as if to make sure it wasn’t the blinding sun in her eyes.
“Jesus Christ.”
“Hey, I know him!”
Then she hauled you off to the principal’s office, who promptly contacted your parents and told them of the incident.
You were homeschooled from then on, and while other kids participated in afterschool clubs like soccer, basketball, and volleyball, you took classes in self-defense. When other kids were learning how to pass and set, you were learning seven ways to take down a man if he had you in a chokehold.
Weak points of the human body that, if struck quickly and at the right angle, would leave it paralyzed. The most efficient techniques for attacking opponents bigger than you. How to debilitate an attacker from behind; from the front; from either side. This was the foreign language you learned while others your age studied Spanish, French, even Japanese.
You couldn’t remember the last time you’d encountered a boy your age without the intent to use him as a sparring partner. You doubt you even knew how to carry a conversation with one--yet another everyday part of life you’d never been taught.
When you’d hit puberty, it seemingly shook your parents to the core. It was like they forgot they were raising a daughter and not a warrior--at the sight of blood, you could see they fought their inner instincts to ask how you would defend yourself against an attack like such at a later date.
It was one of the many battles they’d never thought to prepare you for--the many battles of everyday life.
“What is it?”
“It’s called a pad, dear.”
“Where do I put it?”
“In your underwear, dear.”
“Why am I bleeding?”
“I-er, didn’t you read that book we gave you, dear?”
You gave that book a dismissive glance the night before, skimming past chapters labeled “Periods,” “Hair Everywhere,” and “Boys, Boys, Boys” before tossing it aside and picking up Sun Tzu’s Art of War.
“Yes, I did.”
“Good, dear. Then you should know why.”
Your parents had never intended to be as cold and distant as they were; it was just a side effect of raising a child they had always viewed as destined for death.
After all, surely that’s what the ten on the inside of your wrist meant, right?
10.
Ten.
十.
Diez.
Dix.
X.
You knew it in every language. It was easy, since people from all around the world were curious about you. Your parents received emails from scholars and historians on a daily basis, either with new inquiries or old news. Everyone always had the same thing to say: this has never happened before.
People have come close, of course. The strong paired with the weak had soulmate numbers paired eights-to-twos or sevens-to-threes. Humans destined to become curses even found themselves with soulmates whose wrists contained nines, while theirs held ones.
One figure you’d grown particularly interested in was the King of Curses, Ryoumen Sukuna. The most powerful curse to have ever lived, and even he only had a one on his wrist when he was a human. In every drawing or depiction you’d ever seen, at least one of his four arms had the single digit in black ink on his wrist, if not all of them.
So if even he was not worthy of a ten, what kind of unknown monster were you destined to be with?
~~~
Jujutsu sorcery. The next--and most difficult--form of combat you planned to master. It interested you mainly because it offered a wide variety of mediums with which to focus your power. Though you’d mostly trained with only your body your whole life, occasionally you’d dabbled in using weaponry.
Cursed energy, it seemed, was something that you had a large amount of. Born from negative human emotions, the more cursed energy a human harbored, the more damage they could inflict upon others.
This was the key to protecting yourself from the unpredictable dangers of your soulmate. Learning and mastering it seemed so easy--get angry, project that anger onto opponents, win the fight. The only problem was that many of your prior training encouraged restraint and objectivity. On the surface, your moods could be flicked on and off like a switch, but deep down you struggled to truly revel in any emotion.
You practiced in the dim, dark dojo you often borrowed from a local karate class, slashing through mid-air with a bo staff. Sweat dripped down your temple as you envisioned some form in front of you. A shadowy monster of sorts, eyes glowing in its own darkness, dodging each and every one of your swipes.
It laughed at your attempts, its translucent body of black smoke shifting and gliding around the room. This was the enemy you always imagined, teasing and taunting you as though you never had a chance to defeat it. Whenever you attempted a vanquishing blow through its heart, whether by fist, bo staff, or wooden sword, it would encircle your blow, forming around it in an oval.
A zero.
It only took one fight, you battling your shadow creature with a cursed-energy charged bow and arrow, to realize that the monster you’d been picturing was your soulmate. Blue streaks of energy darted around the shaft of every arrow you fired, zipping around faster and faster the more you missed.
“C’mon,” you hissed under your breath, swiping a hand through your hair and tugging out a few strands in the process, getting them caught on the finger tab of your leather glove. Silence choked the atmosphere of the dojo, the moon long being the only lighting of the room. A bead of sweat dripped down into your eye, blurring your vision as you nocked another arrow.
Another chuckle filled the room, incoherent yet achingly familiar. You stayed low, one knee against the ground while you leant forward on your other, bare foot. But as you searched for your opponent, the dojo seemed to grow.
The sparring pads beneath you stiffened, and fresh blades of grass began sprouting up and licking at your bare feet. The white walls and glassy mirrors blurred, giving way to miles and miles of flat, green plain. A gray sky took the place of the low-hanging ceilings, clouds rumbling in the air but never giving off anything more than a light mist that flattened the strays on your scalp.
“What the hell…” you trailed off, taking in the new landscape before you. A concentric circle of stark white roses surrounded the large plain you sat in the middle of, and far beyond that was a wall of trees. Fresh air filled your lungs instead of the dank staleness you had been accustomed to during any fight. Now, with so much free space around, you felt so much more relaxed, no longer afraid of damaging the dojo while practicing your cursed energy techniques.
“But where the hell am I?” you wondered aloud. It wasn’t like you had teleported anywhere. If anything, it wasn’t you who had changed at all--it was the world around you that had begun to take a new form. You let the leg you kneeled against collapse, slumping to the ground in a figure four. The bow in your hand lay long forgotten beside you.
It was a new… domain. You knew that word. But from where?
As you racked your brain, the grass beside you melted away, an object pushing its way to the surface of the soil. A book sat face up, its spine familiarly crinkled from your recent weeks of flipping through it.
Cursed Techniques for Dummies.
Though droplets of rain fell against the paperback book, they never wrinkled the pages. Instead, they slid right off as though the pages were laminated, sinking back into the soft soil underneath you.
Sticky notes stood out at the top of the book, small labels written on them in your own handwriting for each chapter. A blue slip with the word “domain” caught your eye, and you snatched up the book, flitting past chapter after chapter of techniques.
“‘A confined environment created using large amounts of cursed energy. Within personal domains, the creators are granted greater power at the cost of using an exhausting amount of energy. The longer a creator maintains his or her domain, the more fatigued he or she may become.’” You stopped the pad of your finger at the edge of the sentence, glancing up and around at the space before you. It seemed by the sheer size of your “domain,” your amount of cursed energy was greater than what you expected.
Your only concern was how to get out. No part of you felt weary like the book had warned; there was no pressing headache or tiring muscles. In fact, you felt more energetic like you had in ages. Perhaps it was the boost in your powers that your own domain had promised, or perhaps it was something else entirely.
“All right, all right,” you glanced around, critiquing the area, “definitely seems like my kinda place.” Pushing yourself up onto your feet, you reached low for your bow, patting your back and feeling for your quiver. After you found it, you tugged an arrow out and nocked it, pulling back the string with a deep breath in and searching for your target.
“Come on out, buddy. May as well play while the going is good, eh?”
But your shadow never appeared. The familiar black mist you always seemed to summon while practicing alone never manifested before your eyes no matter how many times you spun yourself dizzy.
It was gone. In your domain, it was gone.
The thought seemed to leave your chest a little lighter, and the blue streaks of lightning dancing around the shaft of your arrow sizzled and melted away. You let your arms fall to your sides, rolling your shoulders back and finally letting out your breath.
Then your eyes returned to the book still lying on the ground, open as a small breeze ruffled the pages. “Cursed energy, huh?” you hummed thoughtfully, setting the bow back on the ground while reaching for the book. Rustles and crackles sounded behind you, and when you fell back with the book in your hands, you collapsed into a cushioned sofa, somewhat out of place among the grassy plain.
“What else ya got for me?”
~~~
“Domain expansion!”
The dank alley’s downpour faded away into a fine spray of droplets, and the sky lightened from pitch black to slate gray. Crumbling asphalt and busted blue Dumpsters blurred away, replaced by a field of green grass and blossoming white roses. In the distance, the trees shivered with the force of the curse’s blows.
But they never made it any farther than that. You’d spent five years mastering that technique after accidentally slipping into your domain on your eighteenth birthday. An insurmountable wall of trees barred any enemy from entering your domain, allowing you time and distance to steady yourself and recover during a fight.
In all of your ventures through books on cursed energy techniques, you’d never once come across anything like it. Domains were made to be advantageous fighting grounds, not havens for rest and recovery. But due to your lack of official training in any form of jujutsu sorcery, you had to use mostly unconventional tactics in many of your battles against curses throughout the last few years. And, you had to admit it worked quite well.
Another strong blow shivered your barrier of trees, their branches swaying from the force, but it only served to worsen your growing headache more than anything else. You crumbled onto your hands and knees, completely missing the leather sofa you kept summoned for quick naps or reading times, and curled up into a ball on your side, cradling your ribs beneath your palms.
This cursed spirit was unlike any other you’d ever faced. It crawled on all four of its twisted arms with jagged bones tearing out of the leathery skin of its back, forming points like spades. At least three times your size, the monstrosity had three eyes forming an upside down triangle and a mouth layered with three rows of shark-like teeth. The drool spilling from its mouth was frothy and green, and when it had hit the asphalt of the dead-end alley in which you’d found it, it bubbled against the ground and melted the tar.
Inside of its wrist lay a “1.”
“What the fuck,” you wheezed, squeezing your eyelids closed hard enough to see stars. “What the fuck kinda steroids is that thing on?”
There was a constant ache in your side from when it had first slammed you into the concrete, no doubt leaving a rib cracked and broken. You just hoped there was no internal bleeding.
“Holy shit.” You scrambled up onto your hands and knees, coughing and sputtering on a sudden flood of metallic liquid climbing up your throat, painting the patch of grass crimson. Subconsciously, you acknowledged the black and blue knuckles on your dominant hand, no doubt caused by trying to throw the first punch after the cursed spirit had dodged your arrow.
10.
Son of a bitch.
“Fuck!” You slammed a bare palm against the grass, teeth gritted and gaze narrowed. “Who are you?!”
Like usual, you expected no response.
Except something had changed.
That damned laugh you had always heard but could never make out echoed in the distance, perking your ears. The same one that had haunted your dreams since you first realized what your soulmark meant. The same one you envisioned battling each time you trained.
The laugh that promised defeat.
With haste, you fumbled onto your feet, ignoring an oncoming wave of nausea that resulted, and eyed the wall of trees encapsulating your domain.
Your body wasn’t ready to leave its refuge, bones and muscles aching, crying out with every movement. When you stepped forward, your knees wobbled. When you released your domain, a splitting headache blinded you for half a second.
Panic struck when you patted down your body only to remember the curse had crushed your bow to splinters, sparing only the lone arrow in your quiver on your back for self-defense.
Apparently, though, you didn’t need it. The cursed spirit, still snarling and chomping its slobbering jaw at you, had each of its palms stuck to the large puddle of melted tar that had formed beneath it in your absence. When more of its own saliva dripped from its mouth, it slid down the dip in the alley the puddle had formed and made contact with the hands of the spirit, who screeched in pain. Welts rose from where the saliva made contact, and it dawned on you that the curse wasn’t immune to its own acid.
Without a second thought, you reached back for the arrow, not bothering a glance at the serrated tip before slicing it through the soft tissue of the monster’s throat. Black blood coated your hand by the time you tugged the arrow from its flesh, hot and sticky against your skin but otherwise harmless.
The cursed spirit crumpled to the ground with a silent cry, more and more dark liquid pooling around it and spilling into the cracks of the asphalt. The first time you had encountered and gutted a spirit, you wanted to hurl at even the sight of such a deformed monster.
Now, you gave in to that urge, especially when a small, long object slithered out of its slashed neck, riding a fresh wave of blood that carried it all the way to your feet and thumping against your combat boot.
“Dear God.” You wiped the back of your unbloodied hand against your mouth, grimacing. “What in the Goddamn fuck- is that a finger?!” You stepped away, reeling back and kicking the monster in the stomach one last time. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!”
The slumped form jolted from the force of the kick, but otherwise remained still. You studied it long and hard one last time before turning away. “Yeah, you know what? Never mind. Dumb question.”
Your gaze found the finger once more, eyeing the long, sharp nail and the bone sticking out of its amputated end. It looked nothing like an average human’s finger, the skin far too wrinkled and ragged. But then what was it? And why would the cursed spirit eat it?
Of course, there was always the chance the curse had an affinity for such snacks.
But you had also read that some objects interwoven with enough cursed energy could grant anyone immense power when used or consumed.
You guessed, with it being a finger and all, the cursed spirit had chosen the latter route.
“Ugh, am I really gonna do this?” You squatted next to the finger, lip curled as you reached out your hand.
In one quick breath, you snagged the finger, hucked it back into your empty quiver, wiped your hand on your pants with a “gross, gross, gross,” and sprinted back to your apartment to take a two-hour long decontaminating shower to rid yourself of the days events and more.
~~~
The plane, you’d decided after being thirteen minutes into a fourteen-hour long flight, was too stuffy. Of course, you shouldn’t have expected much. When the principal of Tokyo Jujutsu High had called and offered you a teaching job for future jujutsu sorcerers, he had been a little hesitant to shell out the money for a twenty-thousand dollar first-class flight for someone he had yet to interview.
The call had been… interesting, to say the least.
“Is this YN YLN?” a man with a monotonous voice had asked with a hint of a Japanese accent.
“This is she. Who’s asking?”
“My name is Masamichi Yaga, and I’m calling on behalf of Tokyo Prefectural Jujutsu High School. Recently, I’ve gotten word that you’ve come across a cursed object we’ve been searching for.”
“You mean the finger?” Ah shit, maybe you were supposed to keep quiet about that.
“Yes… the finger. We were impressed to hear you defeated a cursed spirit in possession of the object all on your own, as well.”
“Shi-uh, I mean, thanks.”
“One of our teachers witnessed the fight and reported back to us about your natural skill in jujutsu sorcery despite any professional training. If you’re open to it, we’d like to interview you for a potential job at our school, if only to introduce our students to your technique. How does that sound?”
Expensive as hell is what it had sounded like. But also… “Hold on, someone saw that fight?” The laugh…
“Yes, one of our best. And if the ten on your wrist is any indication, we think you’ll want to come meet him.”
You had tensed up on the sofa, pulling the phone away with wide eyes and pinching yourself to make sure you weren’t actually asleep. While holding your phone, your bare wrist faced up, the bold, black ten almost grinning at you.
The Ten. He had watched you in that fight.
The fucking laugh.
“Ms. YLN?”
“Sorry,” you hurriedly pressed your phone back to your ear, heart rattling around beneath your ribcage. “Sorry, what did you say?”
“Would you like to come over for an interview? All expenses paid.”
A potential job served up on a golden platter. It was almost too good to be true. Almost. Your soulmate obviously had some sway at this school, and the thought made you nervous. His number obviously made him a physical threat, but if he also had a whole school for jujutsu sorcery under his thumb…
Obviously, you were soulmates with a highly intelligent, professional individual. Just your luck.
But who were you to reject the benefits from such a man? You’d barely been scraping by with the money you’d gathered while eradicating curses for the last few years. The evident favoritism, no matter how much it bothered you, was, in the end, giving you a once-in-a-lifetime chance at a career.
“How could I say no?”
And that’s how you found yourself on a fourteen-hour flight to Tokyo, sitting stiffly in the blue-leather chair next to and surrounded by several people with personal space and snoring issues.
The mark on your wrist burned, and out of nervous habit you ran the tip of your finger over the number repeatedly. Your head pounded along with your growing anxiety, begging for release, and with one more sip of the water the flight attendant had offered you, you sank into your domain, allowing the cramped cabin full of people to fade away into a flourishing plain of lime green grass and pale pink roses.
~~~
Tokyo--you’d discovered after seven hours of wandering--was gorgeous. After getting off your flight, you’d quickly realized you’d jumped the gun, having completely glossed over the necessary prerequisites for traveling to a foreign country.
To be fair, it wasn’t completely your fault. The Duolingo app wasn’t doing you any favors, what with struggling to download and all.
And so stumbling on and off several subway trips, wedging yourself between and through hundreds of random strangers, and battling with your phone for cell reception and data, you’d slowly and carefully traversed over every inch of Tokyo except for Tokyo Jujutsu High.
Perhaps it was an exaggeration, but your feet were certainly sticking to those claims. Despite reveling in and among the glowing billboards, advanced architecture, and homemade delicacies that seemed to line every main street, your body--and wallet--could only handle so much indulgence. After walking around what you were almost positive was the same park for the third time, you decidedly gave in to the blisters forming on your heels and the cramps biting at the bottoms of your feet, collapsing against a wooden bench and moaning in relief.
Your first debacle with Google Maps ensued prior to you finally escaping the Tokyo Airport, a fiasco in its own right. It was then that you remembered jujutsu sorcery and even sorcery in general was considered fictitious nonsense, and that googling a school that centered around said nonsense was futile.
When you checked your phone, you noticed that some deity had finally taken pity on your soul. A message from the same man that had contacted you, sent three hours ago with a link labeled “Directions to Tokyo Prefectural Jujutsu High School.”
You’d never been so frustrated yet relieved at the same time. Three hours ago? A demon that had formed deep in your belly from your lack of sleep within the last two days combined with the rumbling in your stomach and the aching in the entirety of your body swelled and grew ten times the size, blurring every rational thought in your mind.
“FUCK!” You slammed a curled fist into the bench, reeling back in shock when the wood beneath you split in two from the force. Pain radiated from your knuckles, one of them split and bleeding. Just the sight of it pulled you back to all those days of sparring with other people--other boys--and accidentally playing too rough.
It was a habit--all your life you’d been pitied for your perceived lack of natural strength. All of the historians and soulmark recorders who’d ever called your parents to tell them about your never-before seen phenomenon had ended every conversation with a “Maybe she should take some self-defense classes. Just in case, you know?”
You had black belts in seven kinds of martial arts, but instead of being labeled a prodigy, everyone who ever saw the 10 etched in deep black ink inside your wrist viewed you as a poor, unfortunate soul. Every match you’d ever had ended with a bow followed by a “Does your wrist really say ‘ten’? That’s insane!” A gold medal would be placed around your neck or a trophy in your hands, but a simple glance at your wrist and everything you’d ever worked for was stolen from you.
“Oh, that’s why.” You knew that’s what they thought. And you hated that it was partly right.
However, the opportunity to work in a new country with a school full of people who didn’t know of your infamous soulmark (or at least you hoped they didn’t) felt like a breath of cool air for the first time in your life. These people didn’t know you. All they knew was that you were coming to their school with a cursed object and large amounts of potential.
That’s why you liked jujutsu sorcery over any other fighting technique you’d done; it prioritized mastering your own fighting style. So, how could someone ever beat you in a fighting style they’d never even seen before?
They couldn’t. And you loved that.
What you didn’t love, though, was the mile-long walk up an extensive trail of white bricks leading you through what should have been the pearly gates of Tokyo Jujutsu High. The second you reached the opening to the school, you felt like army-crawling the rest of the way to the main building where your interview was to take place.
You couldn’t though, wanting to save face in front of the…student? Teacher? Whatever he was, he was walking toward you. White hair stuck up from the top of his head, matching oddly with his long, slender body not completely unlike a paint brush. While you battled to catch your breath near the entrance, he approached from about forty feet away. From there, you gauged he was about a head and a half taller than you, his hair only helping aggrandize his height.
There was a kind of dignity in the way he walked, confidence oozing off him and curling a corner of his lips. With his hands shoved in his pockets, he was dressed in a fitted, all-black uniform you’d immediately assumed was the mandatory attire for students at the school. He must have felt your wandering eyes because his smirked lips cracked open a sliver, revealing blinding white teeth and a tongue bitten between them.
Your feet began moving before your mind realized what was happening and took over. You swerved out of his path and trekked onward in the opposite direction, only realizing that the staggering heartbeat pounding in your ears was practically deafening when his head tilted back to cackle and you couldn’t hear it. The thought saddened you, and a wave of embarrassment overtook that sadness. Head dipping to hide your blush--What the hell was wrong with you!--you let your gaze study the ground, only catching a glimpse of the ants he was about to crush just before his foot steamrolled right over them. Then the chuckling grew louder.
Yep, definitely some sort of held-back senior.
You turned back to watch him as he walked away, fluffy hair bobbing with each step, and it finally clicked. “Was he wearing a blindfold?” you mumbled, eyes wide and arms dangling helplessly by your sides. The suitcases you’d been lugging around for what must have been eight hours now rolled to a stop beside you, and you placed a palm on one of the handles to steady yourself. Your body was buzzing at the sound of his deep chuckle.
Just who the hell was that guy?
“YLN YN?” A deep voice suddenly spoke beside you, shocking you out of your stupor with a flinch. You struggled to drag your gaze to the man who loomed beside you, another absolutely terrifying colossus with broad shoulders, sunglasses, and deep lines in his brow. While you wondered what the hell was in the water, the man, who introduced himself as the principal you’d spoken to over the phone, asked, “What’s your first impression?”
“Of what?” You glanced around, suddenly nervous he meant the school layout you’d been too distracted to observe yet.
He gestured his head toward the man still strolling away, who was now whistling a tune. “Gojo Satoru. That’s the teacher who recommended you, the one we believe has your matching soulmark.”
Your mind fell blank, and your eye began to twitch.
10.
“That was him? That’s the guy who’s worthy of a freaking ten?!”
“People tend to say that,” he remarked monotonously. In utter disbelief, you looked at the principal, then at the man, then at the principal again, investigating his face for a hint of jest, but it soon became apparent he wasn’t that kind of man.
“Are you serious?” The words still slipped out without your volition.
He didn’t respond. Instead, he nodded towards the ground where the man had walked earlier.
No ant massacre. No little ant workers losing their little ant minds and scrambling around the trampled bodies of their little ant friends. Just a perfectly organized, studious line of tiny black dots holding salvaged crumbs in the same orderly way they’d done it just before the man had--evidently not--stepped on them.
“How the hell…”
You’d seen it. With your own two eyes, you’d watched him step on them. At the very least, if somehow his ginormous feet had managed to miss all fifty or so of them, you’d think they’d at least be scurrying around trying to find better cover.
“It’s one of his techniques,” the principal commented, piquing your interest. “It makes him relatively invincible, almost untouchable. It’s called- er, what are you doing?”
You stay crouched beside your open suitcase, rifling through the folded clothes and toiletries to get to the zipped up, hidden compartment of the hardshell reserved for valuable items. When you fished out what you had been looking for, the principal hummed in thought, but stayed otherwise silent.
Rising from your squat, you clicked each end of the compound bow into place, extending it from its compact position. Then you nocked one of the few carbon-shafted arrows you’d been able to fit into your suitcase diagonally, narrowing your gaze on your target as you pulled back the bowstring comfortably close to your cheek. One twitch of your fingers and the arrow was let loose, flying towards the middle of your soulmate’s back.
He froze at the sound, and you sucked in a breath when it hit its mark.
He’s a ten, he’ll be fine. He’s a ten, he’ll be fine. The mantra repeated itself in your head every second your soulmate stood stock still.
But then he twisted around, and the arrow stayed levitating in place. Your legs almost collapsed beneath you in…amazement? Maybe relief? You weren’t quite sure. You watched as his head tilted to one side, observing the arrow now pointed towards the center of his chest. Then, with a half-grin, he untucked a hand from his pocket and snagged it from the air with an unceremonious snort.
“Well that wasn’t very nice.” He waggled it at you like a discipling finger.
“Ten,” you could only mumble in response. It was the only thing running through your mind right now, the only word you could even speak. Your eyes were still wide in shock, locked on the arrow that had somehow floated in mid-air. You’d always planned on testing your soulmate in some way, but you’d never really tried to predict the outcome. You’d only ever planned on a before, never an after.
“Zero,” he simpered, a teasing lilt in his tone. Though your mind began to hyperfocus on his taunting tendencies, the rest of your body suffered the after-effects of a shiver running down your spine. Would your name sound just as captivating as your number, you wondered.
“I’m afraid I have a mission to get to,” he continued, unzipping his jacket, “but we’ll be discussing this-” he flourished the arrow at you once more “-later.” Then he pocketed it within his black jacket, zipping himself back up before reaching up to his blindfold. He peeled up one edge of the black cloth, and your jaw grew slack at the sight of long, white lashes bordering a hypnotizing, iridescent blue iris.
You barely took note of his wink before he slid the blindfold back into place, turning on his heel and waving a hand behind him. “See you soon, zero.”
~~~
One sip of the golden, bubbly liquid left a hint of apple on your tongue and a slight tingle at the back of your throat. You relaxed further into the cushions of the sofa, sweeping your tongue over the residual foam on your upper lip.
A cloudless sky filled your domain, and a slight breeze blew back the stray hairs on your forehead whenever the sun grew too hot. You set the flute of champagne back onto the coffee table you’d summoned in front of you just beside the open bottle. Its sides were still sticky from the froth that had overflowed, and the cork was long absorbed by the soil.
Japan, you thought, was going to be wonderful. You were still in search of a permanent home in the city, but for the time being the principal--Yaga, he preferred--offered you a dorm on campus. On your campus.
After presenting him with the wrinkly finger you’d so lovingly confined in thirty layers of paper towels, duct tape, and three Ziploc bags, along with a haphazard resume you’d concocted on three hours of sleep, he’d proposed a trial run of a job.
You were a temp.
Not only that, you were a babysitting temp.
“You really think I’m qualified to teach first years?” you asked, though immediately regretted after remembering the “27 Dos and Don’ts for Interviews” you’d memorized beforehand.
Do build yourself up.
Don’t reveal what you suck at in any way possible, no siree bob.
“Well, I’ll admit that’s not all I expect of you. We are not in desperate need of a first-year teacher, but we believe that the current teacher is someone you could have a good influence on.” It was the first time the daunting man before you had ever avoided your gaze, fiddling with one of the many teddy bears that crowded his office on his lap.
The words sunk in after a moment, and the breath was stolen from your chest.
“Hold on. Are you saying that I could be working alongside that guy?”
“Yes.” He nodded, pinching the bridge of his nose for just a second. “As much as we believe in his abilities, it is his…” he paused, searching for the right word, “personality that we fear he may pass onto the students instead of his expertise. We don’t need duplicates of Gojo-” he dragged out a sigh,“-but I fear we may already have some in the works. Thus, I hope you may be able to counteract his impression on them.”
The seat beneath you had long grown hard and stiff, and you fidgeted on top of it.
“After all,” he set down his teddy bear, “there was a reason we sent him to report on you in the first place, Ms. YLN.”
The situation was bittersweet with a little more sweet than bitter, so you had accepted the conditions. Though the thought of working alongside your soulmate had appealed to you at first, that had been before you remembered you’d shot an arrow at him.
And how he’d smirked afterwards.
The wink he’d given you once more resurfaced to the forefront of your mind, and you dropped your head into your hands with a groan. A rapid thumping started in your chest, and you reached out for the flute once more, swallowing the remaining liquid.
You cursed under your breath after sweeping the back of your hand across your lips. “Can’t believe it’s one wink and I’m blushing like a little schoolgirl. What the hell’s wrong with me?” With a shake of your head, you kicked off your boots and reclined horizontally along the couch, squirming to get yourself into a comfortable position before dropping an arm over your eyes.
A sigh escaped you, and you tried to silence your wandering mind by zoning in on the sounds around you. Wind rustling the grass, new, fresh raindrops pattering against the soil, and your own heart slowly pounding. The cold began to nip at your skin, and you pondered summoning a blanket.
Then a rumbling of the ground below you caused you to drop your champagne glass. As it was swallowed up by the earth, you twisted to sit up straight, brows furrowed and eyes searching the line of trees hundreds of yards away.
Another tremor, this one strong enough to rattle the bottle on the coffee table. Glass clinked against wood as it finally tipped over, spilling its contents all over the polished surface. You could feel the trembling through your entire body now, teeth chattering as you clutched onto the couch, almost slipping right off.
Your bow and a full quiver of arrows were spat out by a sudden crack in the earth that sealed itself after they surfaced, and you gathered them up into your arms. Unsteadily rising to your feet, you splayed your arms out for balance, body wavering in effort to not tip over against the force of the quake.
“What the fuck is happening?” you barked, head darting back and forth to search along the circle of trees around you. Their long branches grew entangled with one another, each thick trunk wobbling as though it was being uprooted as the trees swayed in a new, far stronger gust of wind. Rain poured now, and you slipped on a jacket that emerged from the grass, forcing the hood up and over your head before setting an arrow and pulling back the bowstring.
Even through the sights you couldn’t see anything, couldn’t aim for anything. Everything was blurry as your eyes rattled around in your skull, a headache born from the hard vibrations of your domain pinching and stabbing at your brain.
Someone was trying to get in, you realized.
And it was working.
One more tremble and you dropped to your hands and knees, crying out in agony. It felt like someone had forced their way into your brain and gripped each half, trying to split it apart. You shoved your face against the damp grass, hoping for some relief while bracing both hands behind your neck. Your jaw ached from how hard you clenched your teeth, and you were almost positive blood had begun dripping from your nose.
Stop, make it stop. Go away, just make it stop. Stop! Please!
You felt your body go slack, too tired from being tense for an extended period of time, and you rolled over, allowing the stars in your vision to dance until watching them was too exhausting. Your eyes fluttered closed, and you wormed your arms out from under you to splay out at your sides, the quakes palpable under your fingertips.
And then it stopped.
All of it--all the pain, the headache, the trembling underneath you. All of it had disappeared without a trace, as though it were never even there.
“Well now, almost caused me a little trouble there.”
You didn’t even have enough energy to flinch nor to contest when two arms slid underneath your back and knees, hauling you up and a few seconds later dropping you down onto what you assumed was your leather sofa.
Two fingers peeled open your eyelid, and white hair filled your vision. Gleaming blue eyes watched you in amusement, and in your peripheral you noticed upturned lips.
Such a…dick.
Your soulmate hummed and pulled his hands away, allowing your lid to close before pressing a hand to your forehead. “Quite a fight you put up for a while there. Almost had me breaking a sweat. Can’t imagine you’re feeling any good.”
But, to your slight dismay, you were. The feeling of his hands against you, on you, helped the echoes of pain still haunting your body fade away. A strong scent of pine mixed with clean musk and citrus flooded your senses. Unauthorized bliss buzzed along your bloodstream, goading your drained form to lean closer to the sudden source of endorphins.
“Like shit,” you mumbled. “Your fault.”
Gojo chuckled. “Maybe next time you should just let me in.”
“Hell no.”
“Mmhmm, we’ll see about that.”
The hand drifted from your forehead, and in a shameful state of panic you whined under your breath. When he laughed louder, you knew you didn’t want to open your eyes and see the smirk that would greet you.
“So needy.” His hand palmed your cheek, thumb brushing the curve of your cheekbone. “Guess I’ll just have to be your doctor until you’re feeling better. I doubt you mind.”
“Fuck…you…”
“Soon, zero.”
“Pervert.”
He made a noise of objection, but rather than argue with your half-unconscious self, he grumbled something under his breath like “We’ll see about that,” before busying himself with prodding at your face with a tissue. You cracked open your eyes a sliver to see he’d pulled the coffee table up beside you, curling his form over yours to spare you from the easing downpour.
The tips of his white hair dripped water onto your couch cushions, and only then did you realize his usual blindfold was down and around his neck.
Holy shit, is that really the same guy?
Your gaze traveled farther down, brows furrowing in confusion when you realized he wasn’t wearing the same black jacket from before. In its place was a white, long-sleeved button up, the top button undone and the fabric entirely soaked through.
“I heard you got the job.” His voice dragged you out of your daze, forcing your attention up to his face. His eyes flashed when they met yours, an unidentifiable emotion flitting through them that left no trace a second later. “Congratulations.”
“Yeah,” you shut your eyes once more, hoping to halt any heat rising to your face. “You're sitting on the champagne I was drinking.”
“Ew.”
“To be fair, you’re the one who spilled it.”
“You could’ve warned me.”
“Where’s the fun in that?”
He didn’t respond, but his gaze was almost as palpable at the fingertips resting on your cheek. His other hand had long tossed away the tissue he’d used to clean up your bloody nose and was now propped on the couch cushions beside you so he could lean over you better. The rain had slowed to a drizzle now.
“So you heard I got the job, but did you hear I’m your babysitter too?”
He sniggered. “Wouldn’t be the first time. Though you may be more enjoyable to have around.”
You swallowed at that. “Oh?” Beneath your front was a raging pile of nerves you struggled to stifle. “I’m flattered.”
“People always are.”
Well that certainly helped. Your lips pursed in effort to hold back a sneer, but you opened your eyes to glare at him.
“Never mind.”
“Nuh-uh,” he waggled his finger in your face, “can’t take it back now. Speaking of, I think I’m due an apology.”
Both his hands abandoned their post on and around you, leaving you feeling cold and bare. When he reached toward your body, though, was when you wriggled to get away. He latched onto you, snagging something layered over your body as equally soaked as his shirt. After he lifted it up, you recognized it as his jacket, and something warm filled your chest while he fished something out of it.
Okay, he’s one cocky son of a bitch, but that was sweet.
Then he revealed one of your arrows, the black metal tip all too familiarly engraved with your initials.
“Anything to say for yourself?” He waved it over your head tauntingly, even tapping the tip of your nose with part of the shaft.
You smacked your lips shut, avoiding your gaze. “Nah, I don’t think so.”
One long, slender finger poked the side of your forehead. “You sure? There must have been some reason for you trying to kill me.”
You fell silent, and it took two seconds for him to grow bored with your lack of response. “Maybe,” he reached over your body, slipping past his jacket he’d lain over you once more, “just maybe it had something to do with this.” A warm grip on your wrist tugged it into sight, and Gojo slid down the sleeve of your jacket with his other hand.
The way the number ten was written matched his personality, you realized. It was dark and firmly settled into your skin with a certain amount of force behind it, but its effortless flow from one digit to the next displayed a level of insouciance you’d only ever seen in the man before you.
Gojo’s eyes studied the 10 with intense curiosity, like it was whispering secrets in his ears. His lips squeezed together before parting, words he couldn’t quite seem to grasp lying in wait upon them.
“I-” you broke the silence first, staring at the number as well, though mostly to avoid his burning gaze, “-I imagine you being born with a zero was much less a dramatic experience than mine.” Your gaze fell to his own wrist, something you’d had yet to see bare. “...Right?”
The corners of his eyes crinkled in amusement. “My number was an attestation to the power of the Gojo family. You’d think they expected it of me.” He ran the pad of his thumb over the 10, a grin splitting his face when goosebumps rose from his actions. “So, I suppose, then, you may get a pass for shooting at me. But I’ll be keeping this.” His unoccupied hand slipped the arrow back into his jacket pocket. “Maybe I’ll just hang it on my wall from now on.”
“And if I need it back?”
“Nope, it's mine now.”
“In exchange, then,” you sat up straighter, gulping “do I at least get to see your mark?”
His mouth softened into a small smile, and he offered his hand to you. “I suppose that’s fair.” Unlike yours, his body did not shiver at your touch. The second your fingertips grazed the palm of his hand, a sound not unlike a purr left him, and you did not bother looking up to his face, already knowing his eyes were on yours in return.
You’d grown accustomed to his stare by now, feeling it was something akin to sun rays burning into your skin. Already, too, you felt heat rise to your cheeks.
0.
A little lopsided, larger on one end rather than the other. Bold and black against his lighter colored wrist, and soft to the touch. A sort of narcissistic satisfaction flooded your chest, and your body felt all the warmer for it.
“You must like what you see.” Gojo’s voice dragged you out of your reverie. “I know I do.”
You only realized you were smiling when it fell at his words. Such an ass. You let your hands fall from his wrist onto your lap, and, acknowledging the urge to reach for him once more, you occupied your hands by picking at your fingernails.
“Your blush is adorable, you know that?” Without warning, his hand cupped your cheek. He ran his fingertips along your reddened skin, dancing them over your cheekbone and running them behind your ear along with a strand of hair. All the while, he studied your face, chuckling at the veil of wariness that took over. “So cute,” he mumbled.
Then he stood up.
“Well then. I guess I got what I came here for.” His sudden movements gave you whiplash, and you flinched back when he rose to his feet. With two palms planted on his back, he pushed his abdomen forward, groaning at the stretch.
You bit your tongue.
“Now, I gotta go. It was nice seeing you, zero.” He grasped the blindfold around his neck, sending you one last wink before securing it over his eyes.
Out from under the weight of his crystalline gaze, you relaxed back onto your couch, sucking in a short breath.
“Three days from now we have our first mission together,” he reached for the coat over your lap, pulling it on and patting down the pockets. The corner of his lips rose. “I’d say be there on time, but I’d hate to keep you waiting. Expect a half-hour delay or more.”
He paused and pursed his lips, his head tilting to one side. “Actually, you know what, I’ll just come find you. Make it easier that way.” With that, he turned and walked away, throwing a wave over his shoulder. “See you then, zero.
“Oh, and next time, I suggest you just let me in. Save yourself the trouble--you’ll know when it’s me.”
~~~
A fierce wind whistled through the abandoned building, its wooden walls crackling and crying at its touch. Spare leaves scraped along the ground along with broken glass from both fallen photographs and busted windows. Through every hole in the wall filtered in a bit of sunlight, highlighting the dust you and Gojo kicked up with your every footstep. The floorboards underneath you wobbled uncertainly.
“Nanami said authorities reported two suspicious persons hiding out inside this building.” You glanced up from the text message, eyeing the torn, bloodstained furniture that lay askew around the room. “So that means there’s two demons after one finger.” You pocketed your phone.
“God, that sounds like the worst porn ever.” You hurled a glare at Gojo, who raised his hands in defense. “Am I wrong?”
“You’re perverted is what you are,” you sighed, massaging a finger against your temple.
“But not wrong,” he sang as you both walked on.
Another strong gust of wind tore into the room, slamming open the entry door and blowing a tuft of your hair into your face. You spat it out with an annoyed grumble, but just as you reached up to pull the final strands from your lips, Gojo caught your wrist and, in turn, your attention.
“Over there,” he gestured his head to a side room that split off from the one you currently stood in. It appeared to be a bedroom judging by the yellowed mattress visible from the doorway, but a rancid scent of spoiled eggs intermingling with dried blood wafted toward you from its direction. With the scent came palpable cursed energy.
“One for me, one for you?” you asked, blindly reaching for an arrow in your quiver while removing your bow from around your chest. The energy was so strong you were almost choking on it, and when you took a deep breath to relieve yourself from the pressure, you gagged at the taste.
Gojo paused, staring at you for a second and watching as you loaded the arrow and pulled back the string. “We’ll see,” he said, reaching up and removing his blindfold.
Your grip on your bow faltered, and you relaxed your hold on the arrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Gojo did not bother waiting for you nor answering your question, instead disappearing from your side, blue eyes glowing and body cocooned in a sort of translucent, wavering bubble.
Then all hell broke loose.
A broken squeal pierced your ears before sizzling black blood painted the doorway. The building began rattling more from Gojo’s fight than from the wind outside, and you feared the infrastructure was going to collapse from the pressure. Anxious--and perhaps feeling a bit left out--you darted towards the room, making the subconscious decision to avoid the splatter on your way.
The second you stepped foot inside, you found yourself in a domain. From what you could tell, it wasn’t Gojo’s. Though you’d never actually seen his domain, you figured it would look a little less monstrous than the one you were currently in.
Concrete rubble crunched underneath your feet. Glistening stalagmites rose from the floor, oozing with a black liquid not unlike tar that made it appear as if they were melting. The black abyss you stood in was sweltering, and almost instantly you felt your long sleeve jacket and pants begin sliding and sticking against your skin. A green fog hung in the air, a medium for the light of the crescent moon dangling in the sky. A monster’s domain indeed.
In all your time admiring, you almost missed the figure bounding toward you. A long blue tongue reached out to lap at the side of your face, and you sidestepped just in time, shivering at the hot breath that still managed to reach you where the tongue had missed. The creature blew past you completely, four spindly legs scrambling for purchase in the uneven rubble.
“Holy shit,” you gasped, eyes wide as you loaded and aimed your bow. Your chest pounded hard enough to flood your ears, and your heartbeat was palpable in your fingertips. When the monster’s head, resembling a spider’s with a hundred eyes all locked on you and fangs drooping from its mouth, sat on top of your arrow point, you let your fingers slip from the string.
“YN!” Gojo’s voice perked your ears, and just as you turned to find him, another spirit, this one twice your size with sharp thorns covering every inch of its body, reached with one large, three-fingered hand for your head, its two eyes deep pits of fire and rage.
And despair, but you figured it was only your own gaze reflected within his.
You envisioned it to be somewhat like a strong man twisting the cap off a pickle jar, or perhaps even squeezing a tomato in his fist hard enough that it bursts, juices flying everywhere. Maybe it would be like being flung around like a ragdoll, body flailing as your head stays trapped in his palm.
Whatever it was, you were certain it wasn’t going to feel nice.
In one last, hail-Mary attempt, you tried to sink into your domain, to feel the light droplets and the forgiving sofa one last time. “Please,” you whispered.
Everything grew dark and quiet. White noise rang in your ears, fluctuating with each racing heartbeat that shook its way through your body. When you did open your eyes, there was nothing, not even black darkness in your sight.
Nothing.
Nothing but a pounding headache, like someone trying to split your head open and read your thoughts like an open book.
“YN! YN, wake up!”
It was him, that voice. But something was wrong, wasn’t it?
“Come on, you can’t do this to me--I just found you!”
It was distant, like usual. So far away you could barely hear him. But there was something about his tone–why was he so scared?
“Wake up for me, YN. Please, just look at me.”
He wasn’t laughing. His voice sounded so weird when he wasn’t laughing at your defeat, and isn’t that what he’d always done?
Perhaps, maybe, it was because you’d won for once?
Or, perhaps, maybe, he’d lost?
Nonetheless, a short laugh escaped you. A small giggle, accompanied by a snort. Then another chuckle, louder now, because it was just so funny!
How could a ten possibly lose?
The very idea was hilarious!
You cackled louder, wheezing in effort as you braced two hands over your stomach, trying to ease the pain of the action. Your own howls met your ears, sounding even more ridiculous coming from you, and that made you laugh harder.
He had gone silent.
You opened your eyes a sliver, gray, drizzling skies dampening your face and mingling with the tears already present. Your wrinkled clothes, still damp with sweat, grew cold and clung to your skin. The grass underneath you tickled your bare palms.
Gojo. Gojo loomed over you, long fingers paused in their obvious raking through his white hair. His blindfold was nowhere to be seen, and his chest rose and sank in a swift pattern.
Opalescent eyes scoured your face, and it was when you felt a pressure on your lips that you realized he had moved to cradle your head in his palms.
“What,” he whispered, choking on a breath, “-What was so fucking funny?”
All the laughter had been sapped away, slowly deteriorated along with your energy as you let your head relax in his hold. Your hands reached up on their own volition and grasped at his wrist, trying to move him or stop him from moving, you weren’t quite sure.
“Am I alive?” you pondered aloud.
Gojo shook his head in disbelief, gnawing angrily on his lip before hissing a curse under his breath. He made a move to release his hold on you, and that was when you discovered you were holding him there.
“Yes. Yes, you are, and I can’t fucking believe it.”
“You know what’s funny?”
His eyes snapped to yours. “No, I really don’t. Please, for the love of God, enlighten me.”
“All my life, I thought you would be this… this sort of invincible god. A ten. I thought you were the one who was going to kill me.”
“YN-”
“But you didn’t. You saved me.” You removed his hands from your face, with an evidently necessary amount of force, and wrestled yourself up into a sitting position, your legs splayed out before you. Gojo kneeled beside you, one of his hands insistent on your back. “You were so scared, Satoru. But you shouldn’t be.” You couldn’t help it; you reached up to cup his cheek, wiping away a raindrop from under his eye. “Because no matter how much I don’t like it, I know you have been and you always will be there to save me.”
Gojo chewed on the inside of his lip, eyes examining every inch of your face as if he was trying to imprint it into memory. You doubted you looked as great as his gaze implied--your hair was a rat’s nest on top of your head, your entire body was trembling, and your eyes were still unsteady from the blows you’d almost taken amidst the fight.
“You’re gonna be such a pain in my ass, zero,” he hummed.
Then his lips captured yours.
~~~
“So, you…eat…the fingers?”
“Yep.”
“Well… are they good?”
“Nope.”
You purse your lips and nod. “Okay… but why was your first thought to eat it?”
Fushiguro shook his head. “Don’t ask.”
“Will do.”
You led the group of first years to the school courtyard, directing them toward the center of the clearing where you stood. The sun shone today, blisteringly hot with only a cool breeze every few seconds to offer slight relief. Birds chirped in the trees of the school’s surrounding forest, and Itadori frantically swatted away a few gnats.
“All right, everyone, today you will learn my cursed technique.”
You closed your eyes, focusing a little harder to allow three more people into your domain than usual. You envisioned a plain of grass, a surrounding barrier of roses, then trees. You saw the light gray sky, the cooling drops of rain, the barely-visible sun.
“Gojo?!”
And Gojo splayed out on your sofa, arm thrown over his eyes, mouth open to catch flies as he snored. He was a large jumble of long limbs and white hair sitting lopsided on your couch.
“Didn’t he say he was on a mission today?” Kugisaki asked, her brow raised.
Yuuji creeped toward him, finger outstretched and ready to poke him in the cheek. He met an invisible wall instead.
“Are you really surprised?” Fushiguro crossed his arms. “My question is, why’s he in here?”
Three pairs of eyes turned to you, and, helpless, you shrugged. “Sometimes he breaks in to take naps. I’ve gotten used to it after a while.”
“Hold on, are you the ‘zero’ lady he’s always talking about?!” Itadori gawked at you, his eyes locked onto your wrist.
A loud yawn split the air. Gojo, his snores finally silenced, let his arm fall from his face. A smirk danced on his lips when he saw you, but it fell when he saw the three first years. He locked his glowing gaze on their forms and groaned exhaustedly.
“Yes she is. My little zero.” He winked at you, then turned his blue glare onto them. “Now scatter, you three. My wife’s domain is my nap space, not yours.”
My mental state right now is pretty much relying on my comfort character and they're not ok and neither am I.
Gojo Satoru x Reader
3041 words, most of which aren’t SFW
When he came home, you welcomed him with a perfect balance of tranquility and excitement.
“Dinner’s on the cooker.” You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, his hands settled on your hips. Gojo kissed you with awe and relief, finally home, and when he tried to deepen it you pulled away. “I drew you a bath, so everything should be ready by the time you’re out.”
Not lingering on the interrupted kiss, he pressed another to your forehead and cooed: “Did I tell you I love you?”
He did this morning, under the covers, over breakfast, at the front door, on the phone — and before, and after, and sempiternally. Even then, you answered: “Not enough,” and you weren’t lying.
“I must’ve been a bodhisattva in my last life to deserve you.” Tightening his grip, he twirled you aloft and lowered you on the very tip of your toes so you couldn’t stand without anchoring yourself to him.
“All right, oh enlightened one.” You kissed him a final time before tearing him off. “Get your stinky uniform in the wash and your ass in the bath. You’re tracking blood everywhere.”
Keep reading
love, forever?
vampire! Suguru Geto x reader x vampire! Satoru Gojo
Blurb: Vampires are just things of myth. Little do you know that your recent ex Suguru is a tortured vampire himself, who hunts and slays other vampires that seek to do evil acts on humans. You're heartbroken, still reeling from the loss of the love of your life, clueless to the fact that Suguru broke up with you in order to protect you from his own dark urges. Suguru still grieves you immensely. One night, Satoru decides to make a plan to end to Suguru's grieving-- and what better way to do that than to understand the enemy?
Tags: Morality, and selfishness vs selflessness themes. // Vampire! Suguru and Satoru, who are vampire hunters that protect humans from evil ones. // Blooming rivalry between Satoru & reader for Suguru’s attention. // AU characters. Satoru is clingier and more emotional than his canon self. Suguru despises the strong (vampires) for hurting the weak (humans). // New vampire lore ;). // Angst. Suguru battling his inner demons, trying to do good despite his vampire nature and urges. // Reader has multiple targets on her back (Naoya appearance!) // Both Suguru and Satoru fall for reader. // Eventual smut in later chapters. //
Chapter Warnings: College party drinking, Reader slaps Satoru, Mentions of blood and feeding, Reader falls in a ditch (LOL), Suggestiveness, MDNI
Chapter Word Count: ~4.3k (it’s worth it!)
NOTE: even if you you saw the teaser already, or any edit of the teaser, please read this chapter, as I’ve edited it a lot, and added in more juicy dialogue & scenes ;)
Ch. 01 | Living Haunted
The drink is nothing short of young and dumb, the blend of tooth-rottingly sweet flavors hitting your taste buds as you stare holes into Suguru’s back. You can see the sculpture of his muscles and beautiful bones through his tight tee, your ex’s sculpted body turned away from you. He’s speaking to a girl you had heard about— the life of all parties, pretty, smart, and fun. You could see that she might be his type. Green jealousy explodes in your chest, along with a poisonous, deep sense of insecurity. The horrible feelings move through your body. Was he moving on already? Did you really mean so little to him? Would she be the one to make him stay?
You take another swig from the plastic blue cup, hoping the painful twisting motion of your heart would be soon dulled. Coca Cola, sherbet, and yakult alcohol would be your poison of the night, you think, swallowing down the concoction as tears prick your eyes.
“Another one of those people who drinks their troubles away?”
The voice amidst the bass and booming music causes you to turn, your eyes meeting striking blue ones. Snowy hair rests soft and thick on his head, your heart skipping a beat when you see such a beautiful stranger.
If you were being honest, you weren’t in the mood to talk to somebody else— not when your heart was still tied right onto Suguru’s. You love Suguru, you really do. The recent past haunts your every waking moment. And even in your dreams, he’s there, chuckling as you braid his hair, the nonfiction book he’s been reading facedown in his lap as your fingers thread his silky locks; He’s watching you with a fond smile as you run ahead of him in the campus garden, jumping amongst the flowers; The warmth and sturdiness of his hands against your face as the two of you kiss— his soft, supple lips meeting yours in that familiar dance and tangle. In your dreams he’s still yours. You both made up. In your dreams, things are warm and right.
When you wake up in an empty bed, with an aching heart, it just feels cruel. The light slipped away again. You thought you had it. You had your dream come true only to realize it was just that— a fleeting dream. There’s no respite from the memory of all his adoration, thoughtful gestures, all the times you’d stare mesmerized as he sat focused, his eyebrows pinched as he worked… The way he felt when you were wrapped in his embrace, your face buried in his sturdy chest— that feeling of being cared for—
You missed him bad, with every fiber of your being.
Suguru is still all you can think about. You’re at this damned college party because, even a month after he’d broken up with you, all you wanted was to be close to him, to see him. It’s pathetic. Knowing he’d be here, knowing you’d be tearing your heart open again, the wound freshly cut back open— and you still came here. How many times had you stalked his social media despite having been removed from his following?
“Cat got your tongue?” The beautiful stranger breaks you out of your thoughts, forcing a reply.
“No—” you start to say, raising your voice. It’s just barely audible over the clamor of the party.
“Really?” He butts in, raising an eyebrow. “‘Cause it seems like there’s some hard evidence against your statement.” His small smile is as unconventional as it is disarming.
“And you are?”
“Satoru Gojo, if you haven’t heard about me already. I go here, don’t you know?”
You roll your eyes, scoffing. “And why would I know of you?”
Satoru just tilts his head ever so slightly, his smile unwavering as he replies, “Your head is under a rock, is what I heard you say.”
Confusion flits across your face before your mouth falls open slightly, a feigned look of offense stretched on your features. You feel like ignoring this pesky person. You glance away for a second, in search of Suguru’s back— the spot he’d been standing in holds a different person, somebody you don’t know, somebody you’re not at all interested in. You frown, scanning the crowd.
Satoru waves a hand in front of your face. You look up at him, annoyed.
“Why are you talking to me?”
“What? Need a reason to talk to a pretty girl?”
“That’s an overused line,” You shout back, the music so loud you can barely hear yourself. Your attention shifts away from the snowy haired man back to the sea of party goers. You desperately search the throng of buzzing chaos. No sign of Suguru. Just dancing, mingling, kissing, drinking, the typical activities going on under the strobe lights. Fuck.
Suguru, where did you go? Please… Your heart feels like it’s a rock in your stomach. Please don’t tell me you’re fucking her right now in somebody’s bedroom. It’s not my business— but I can’t stand the thought of it—
Satoru chuckles, and you look back at him, unable to hide your expression of pain. You’re about to excuse yourself to find a bathroom to cry in, when he speaks again.
“You’re right. How should I flirt, hm? Wanna coach me? It’ll lift your blues, too,” His smirk would’ve had you folding had you not ever met Suguru. But you did cross paths with the raven-haired man— collided and intertwined, more like— and now nobody compares to him. Nobody would ever be him.
“Not really. Excuse me,” you begin to say, before turning slightly, about to slip away—
“Suguru is my best friend,” he says.
You freeze, whipping around now to face Satoru.
“He told me about you— first time he ever told me about anyone, actually. Suguru said you were somebody he actually loved.” Satoru’s cheeky expression has been wiped off, replaced with one of aloof nonchalance and detachment. It’s almost eerie, but your focus isn’t on that.
You’re at a loss for words, eyes caught on Satoru’s, hanging onto everything he says like maybe, just maybe, it means that Suguru wants you back.
“He’s had his fair share of flings and hookups, after all.” Satoru teases, smirking again, bending down to your level.
“I thought I was losing my best friend to a weakling.” His breath is surprisingly chilly against your face. “Turns out you were never the one. Sucks that you couldn’t make him stay.” You feel everything shatter. “Sucks for you, I mean,” Satoru finishes. He leaves out the part where he gloats about being the one Suguru has always admired, and stuck with.
You’re shocked, mouth hanging open. You’re hurt. You’re aching in confusion about what wasn’t good enough about you. You’re angry and betrayed— all the feelings clash like giant waves crashing against one another inside your heart.
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
Satoru grins, shrugging. “It means what it means. But I’m curious,” he says, leaning closer, his pearly teeth glinting red under the strobe lights, “What is it about you that had Suguru caught up on ya?” His lips graze your cheek, his voice in your ear, “I don’t get it.”
You slap him before you can realize what you’re doing. Violence is not the answer, but this time, it sure as hell felt like it. Your fingers sting, your panicked thoughts a running train. Did I just? Oh my god! I didn’t— I fucking did—
“I— I’m sorry—” you stammer quickly, eyes wide in shock at your own actions. Satoru is eerily emotionless, staring down at you with those startling ocean eyes. You shiver despite the heat of the stuffy, overcrowded room.
“Hm.”
It’s all he says. You open your mouth to speak again, blinking—
And he’s gone.
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
A swig of the liquor causes the liquid to slosh in the green bottle.
“Thought you liked shy girls, Suguru?” Satoru pokes, a red handprint on his cheek. He’s kicked back on the couch outside the bathroom, grimacing when the alcohol hits his tongue. He’s spitting it out back into the bottle immediately.
“I do,” Suguru replies calmly, a streak of lovely bare skin showing amidst the shaving cream on his face. He runs the razor back down, taking off more of the fluffy white foam.
“Yeesh. Can’t believe we used to drink this shit,” Satoru sticks his tongue on dramatically, tossing the full glass of alcohol across the room. It lands right in the trash bin with a clang. “That’s where it belongs,” he huffs.
“So?” Satoru prompts, kicking his feet up. “You realize she doesn’t fit your ideal type, right? Why’d you get with her for a whole year, then?”
“She was shy at first,” Suguru says softly, a glint of something like pain in his eyes. He catches Satoru’s gaze on him in the mirror and the glint disappears. Satoru notices, but says nothing, now peeling open a candy from its foil wrapper.
“And I told you already, Satoru,” Suguru continues, sparing his friend an exasperated glance. “I love—d her.” A blip. A mistake so quickly covered that if it was anyone but Satoru, they’d have missed it.
Blue eyes pierce Suguru.
“But it wasn’t going to work out. Love isn’t meant for us. You and I… We’re not meant to be with humans,” Suguru murmurs, looking at his face in the mirror. It was myth that vampires didn’t have reflections. They do. But there’s something the myths forgot. Some sort of change is written in a vampire’s eyes. There always has been, and always will be, some sort of difference from a person’s antecedent human form, and their new, evolved one, hidden in their eyes after they turn. Suguru touches his eyebags, dark and heavy.
That’s not what changed. No. His warm, earthy brown eyes had turned purple the night Satoru turned him. He woke up with them, the day after everything changed.
Suguru’s tired reflection stares back at him, rich amethyst irises shining like glossy, sharp stars in the mirror. He wishes he didn’t recognize them. Now he’s stuck dealing with people commenting on his “cool contacts,” for the rest of eternity. Suguru exhales deeply, softly, his still, dead heart aching.
“Being undead with a vital thirst for human blood will do that,” Satoru ho-hums, blissfully unaware of the insensitive nature of his obliviousness.
Suguru is silent, continuing to shave. He grimaces at the knowing that his vampire instincts made him crave you dangerously, the one he loves, more than anything else. It was cursed, his very existence. He was turned into a walking, sentient, functioning monster. The blade knicks his skin. He curses quietly.
“So,” Satoru grunts with chocolate melting on his tongue, grateful that at least his cravings and delight in sweets didn’t change when they turned, “You don’t trust yourself to be around her without hurting her. But you were doing well for a year. What do you say changed?”
Suguru dabs at the blood dripping down his otherwise unmarked face. It would heal, his skin would be perfectly smooth again in a day, not a trace of his mistake, or scar, would remain. All wounds heal within 24 hours for vampires. It’s something Suguru was grateful for, considering his job of being a vampire slayer.
“My urges got insatiable. Blood bags weren’t enough,” Suguru says curtly. Despite the battle of breaking up with you being long over, Suguru’s mind is a war zone. I couldn’t even look at her… without… needing to taste her blood. His fists clench on the marble sink. It got bad. I almost hurt her.
Satoru stares at his best friend, knowing that in this silence, his mind is a maelstrom. Suguru sees Satoru’s unflinching gaze, but remains quiet. He knows his friend won’t understand.
But Satoru presses on anyway, nodding, looking bored.
“Right. You can’t suppress your urges right now. That happened to me too. The second year is the hardest.” Satoru was the one who turned Suguru, after all, on that unwelcomed, fateful night. “It helps when you just feed on multiple pretty girls a night and compel them all to forget— You could’ve had both, you know. Her and human blood from others. You’re so mopey now.” Satoru’s callous remark piques Suguru’s irritation, a flame of anger burning in the raven-haired man’s chest.
“I won’t do that and be in a relationship.”
“I saw you feeding on that random chick an hour ago. If you and I didn’t always ask for consent before feeding, I’d never have believed she would be okay with that,” Satoru’s eyes gleam playfully. Suguru doesn’t reply, and Satoru deflates.
“You’re still grumpy. You move around like you’re actually dead, Suguru. You torture yourself by still caring about your ex. She’s nothing special. I don’t get it.”
Ah. The truth comes out. Suguru’s eyebrows knit, his mouth pressed into a firm line as something dark flickers in his eyes.
“Satoru, she has a name, and she’s worth something even if you can’t see it. Just shut up.”
“And what worth do you see in her?”
Suguru is silent for a moment. How could he convey the light and warmth that you were in his life? He’d died twice, once literally, once figuratively, and yet— you brought him back. “…She’s… good.”
“And?”
Suguru’s temper flares. “You just don’t get it, so will you just leave it?” He snarls, fangs involuntarily popping out. He curses silently in disgust at what he has become.
“You’re such a grouch nowadays,” Satoru huffs, before popping another chocolate into his mouth. He gets up, stretching.
“Well. I need to feed again.”
“Be safe about it. And I’m not referring to your safety,” Suguru says sternly, his whole head turned to look at Satoru now, some white foam still on the man’s face.
“Yeah, yeah, mom, I got it.” With that, Satoru pulls his black coat over his lean, muscled body, a wolfish grin on his face as he slips out the apartment door. Did he need the black coat? No. Not at all. Vampires don’t get cold. They’re already icy to the touch. But it helps him blend in, both with humans and the night.
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
You’re intoxicated. It’s two AM and you’re stumbling around campus like a fucking idiot.
Well how about that? Satoru spies you from across the quad, your movements sluggish and uncoordinated.
He slips through the shadows.
You nearly jump when a tall, dark figure appears before you, looming over you.
Snowy hair shines in the lamplight, blue eyes flashing like glaciers, staring right at you. You swear they flash red for a second.
“You again?” You slur your words. You aren’t scared. He’s Suguru’s best friend, which means he by extension must be a good guy. Almost as if he hears your thoughts, Satoru grins. His teeth are brilliant, his canines shining ivory and glistening like expensive accessory jewels.
If Satoru was being honest, this was a chance to understand the enemy. The golden goal would be to get Suguru to forget about you and move on, so his best friend could finally look and be alive again, the two of them happily slaying the vampires that hurt humans— and this was the first step in his plan.
“Hey,” he nearly purrs, slinking around you as you take a step forward— stumbling a bit—
Cold fingers grip you firmly, holding you upright. Satoru: 1, gravity: 0.
“You’re fucking making me freeze even more!” You retort, snapping at him as you yank your warm arm away from his cool grasp. You were more than tipsy, but you recalled his rudeness from earlier.
He lets you go and you teeter. “Just trying to help. You sure aren’t shy, huh?” Satoru remarks.
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” You spit out, the question giving you both Deja vu.
“It means what it means,” Satoru grins. Deja-fucking-vu. You’re getting fed up now, huffing and mumbling under your alcohol-tinged breath, an insult that Satoru’s super hearing picks up on. He stifles a laugh. You keep walking.
“Wait,” Satoru calls out. You don’t turn around or slow your snail-like pace. He strides up to you in two quick, lengthy steps. He bends, entering your vision, his teeth sharp and protruding from his close lipped smile. Were they always that long?
“I’m great at reading people. And as much as you want to deny it, your heart is beating faster around me.” He suppresses his urge to poke your ribcage, directly over the beating muscle.
“Shut up,” you growl.
“You could make me, you know.”
“There you go again with that cliche flirting,” you snort.
“And here I am again, asking if you’re offering lessons. Though the better question would be if you’re even qualified to give them,” Satoru grins.
He keeps up with your sluggish pace as you try to make your way back to the dorms.
“What do you want from me? Don’t you think it’s weird to be flirting with your best friend’s ex?”
You think this will shut him up. That, or he’ll have a lame excuse. But for the first time in this second conversation you’re having with him, his answer changes.
“If I’m being honest,” he speaks in a rich, velvety, low voice, and you almost feel entranced, your feet stopping, your gaze resting on Satoru. “I’m doing this for him. And about what I want?”
You sway in the chilly night breeze, barely registering anything but the sound of his voice.
“I want to know you better,” he purrs. You’re breathless as he continues, his voice like a siren in your ear, “If you were sober, would you let me bite you?”
He pulls away, and you’re back to your senses in a second. You feel like slapping him again. You almost do, but your hand misses, causing you to stumble.
“Too slow!” He cackles as you tumble onto the ground, your dress flying up.
You look absolutely humiliated, livid, and harmless from the ground, eyes narrowed in deep hatred for this weirdo.
“Need a hand?” Satoru smirks, his tall, silhouetted form outlined in light from the lamp behind him.
You push off the cold cement, ignoring him, fuming silently as you continue your drunken walk to the dorms. That typical pang of hunger hits Satoru out of the blue, impelling him to leave.
“I have to go now. See you around,” Satoru says, before disappearing, the need to find a sober person he can get consent from to feed on overpowering him.
Suddenly the night is quiet again, save for the occasional rustle of leaves in the wind. You keep walking, not realizing that there are no longer lamps to light the way until you’re surrounded by darkness. You aren’t familiar with this part of campus, squinting to see the road sign to your right. You barely make out the words ‘Under Construction’ written in bold black letters, and you shiver as the cool breeze swings through the area. A snapping twig sounds behind you and your eyes widen, fear running through your intoxicated bloodstream.
“Hello?” You call out. You hate to admit it, but you regret letting Satoru leave. Nobody answers.
You take another step into the darkness, speeding up your pace. Another snap of a twig, and you’re breaking out into a full blown run now— blood rushes through your ears—
Something catches your foot, and you tumble forward, falling down into a ditch, knocking out.
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
Satoru sighs contentedly, his eyes crossing as he swallows his last gulp of blood for the night. The woman is staring at the ceiling with a lovestruck look, the pleasure from the toxin in his fangs acting like a drug. He releases his lips from her skin, licking at the two puncture marks on her neck.
“Fuck…” She mewls, leaning in to kiss Satoru. He lets her kiss him.
“Look at me,” Satoru commands gently, his voice taking on a different tone now— and she’s under his spell in an instant.
“Forget this entire interaction. Forget that you ever saw me. Forget that I fed on you. Don’t question the slight tenderness in your neck tomorrow morning. Associate it with sleeping weirdly,” he murmurs, and she’s caught on his every word, nodding when he stops talking.
“Good.”
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
Satoru retraces his steps, walking on the road he last saw you on. His teeth have retracted, going back to a normal length, as they always do after he’s fed. Yeah, he may be selfish, jealous, and dislike you— but he’s not a villain. It’s late, you are intoxicated, and he still wants to make sure you’re okay.
“She’s probably fast asleep back at her dorm. I’m just wasting my time,” he grumbles in the dark. But he just has this funny feeling, like something happened, and now he’s acting like some lovesick fool that worries and checks in on their lover.
Blood. Satoru smells it, that familiar, rich, sharp scent that sends a rush of electricity through his body. Because he just fed, his brain doesn’t light up as it usually would, and he realizes that somebody is hurt— and that somebody is probably you.
Satoru’s legs are a blur as he races towards the source—
He stands over a dirt edge, a hole in the path made by the ongoing construction. You lay in the ditch looking like a broken doll, effectively knocked out. There’s a gash on your arm and knee.
“Fuck,” Satoru curses, quickly climbing down to get to you. He’s by your side in a flash, checking your pulse. It’s normal. He feels the tension in his body drain. You’re probably just passed out from the combination of alcohol and falling in a ditch. Satoru rolls his eyes, huffing, “Idiot,” as he scoops you up into his arms.
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
He didn’t know what to do. Leave you in the hallway of the coed dorm? Drop you off at the 24/hour care station? He figured he should do the latter, and so he went.
He dings the bell at the front desk, shifting to readjust your relaxed body. Ten seconds go by. During that time, Satoru finds himself staring at your face, a few smears of dirt on your skin. You breathe in and out, because you have to. It’s not like him and Suguru, who breathe to fake their normalness and blend in. They have no need for oxygen. Your lips look so soft. Your chest rising and falling gently, you look totally at peace, and Satoru is mesmerized. He gets lost in the rhythm of your breaths for a moment— the steady beat of your heart bringing about a peace and longing ache in his own lifeless one. He snaps out of his daze, and rings the bell again, huffing impatiently. Another ten seconds go by, and he starts to spam the bell.
“Where are they?” He grumbles. Satoru slips behind the desk, frowning and pissy, looking into the back room. Nobody is there.
“Seriously?”
He can’t just leave you here when the door is unlocked and the place is unattended. Satoru curses under his breath again, looking down at your sleeping face, your body curled against his frame in his arms.
“Guess Suguru has to confront his demons tonight,” Satoru sighs, not realizing the weight of the statement he’s just uttered.
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
Sweet, mouth-watering, the scent of a dream— it wafts through the hallway, into his room, and Suguru wakes up with a growling stomach.
Human blood. One that smells absolutely ravishing. Suguru sits up, alert and awake, wondering if Satoru brought back somebody to share, somebody who wanted to be fed on and possibly fucked by the two of them. The raven-haired man stands up and tears open his door—
Satoru is hunched over a body on the couch. Suguru makes his way over, his fangs protruding, his amethyst eyes glinting with hunger—
Satoru finishes wiping the blood off your arm, the sight of the red cloth in his hand making Suguru freeze when he realizes Satoru brought back a hurt person.
“Satoru–”
Satoru turns, standing up, and Suguru finally catches a glimpse of who is on their couch. If his heart was beating, it would have skipped a beat.
Suguru’s eyes are wide, his mouth agape. You?
“Hey,” the snowy-haired vampire says. “Before you get pissed—!”
Suguru is crossing the living room in a flash, shoving Satoru up against the wall. Suguru’s head is ringing, swirling with hunger, anger, fear, grief, and shame. Something as seemingly small as the sight of you did that to him.
“Did you fucking hurt her? I swear to god, if you so much as touched a hair on her head—” Suguru hisses before Satoru shoves his best friend back, scowling.
“Listen for a second! She was in a ditch when I found her, okay? By the construction site. I may not like this little pest of a weakling, but I didn’t hurt her,” Satoru retorts. Suguru backs off, clenching his fists so hard that it draws red blood of his own. His eyes burn holes into the floorboards.
Satoru watches, a beat of silence passing before he speaks up, “Hey, Suguru. Just… just take a moment to get a hold of yourself. If you have to take a walk…”
What Satoru didn’t understand was how absolutely feral Suguru was for you, down to a chemical level. Bringing you around was enough to make Suguru’s head pound with a dizzying need to feast on you— but bringing you when you were bleeding? Suguru is feeling white hot need pulse throughout his body.
“She— she’s not supposed to be here—” Suguru manages to say, his voice strained.
“Why–”
“She can’t be by me!” Suguru roars, looking up from the ground to meet Satoru’s shocked gaze. Suguru’s purple eyes are filled with a storm of anger and pain, and Satoru opens his mouth to apologize—
But Suguru is gone in a blink, the door to their apartment creaking as yellow light from the hallway spills in, falling on your face, painting you in a soft glow.
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clingy bf!sukuna...who swears that he is anything but clingy until he meets you.
clingy to the point where he follows you to the bathroom, keeping you company whilst you take a bath or a shower.
'Sukuna get out.'
'No I gotta piss.'
'You said that fifteen minutes ago and you're still here.'
'Gotta make sure you don't drown or something, you would do some stupid shit like that.'
'Gee thanks.'
also bf!sukuna being clingy to the point where he hangs around the kitchen whilst you cook or clean, following you around just to piss you off.
sukuna being clingy to the point where if you even move an inch off the couch whilst watching a movie, he immediately pauses the screen and asks you where you're going
'to get the popcorn obviously'
'oh.'
but the most clingy version of sukuna is when you wake up early in the morning and attempt to get ready for work.
keyword: attempt
it's like fighting a whole big cat similar to ones that you see in the zoo, sukuna's warm body trapping you in place underneath the sheets.
'i'm not doing this again with you sukuna...'
'mhmmmm.'
'i'm serious' you pinch his tattooed skin yet there's no reaction.
'm' serious too babe.' he groans. His eyes are closed with his pink locks messily arranged. His two hands wrap around your waist with nothing but security. 'you're not leaving.'
'I have a job, a commitment.'
'Is our marriage not a commitment?'
'we're not married 'kuna.'
There's a pause and for a second you think that Sukuna has fallen back to sleep.
'yet.'
'what did you just say?!'
⭑⭑ sukuna x reader — fem reader, short reader implied, modern au, fluff.
yapper!gf x ‘idgaf’ sukuna who acts like he’s absolutely done with you whenever you’re going on and on about the mundane things in your life, not admitting that he finds it a little cute at the fact that you just can’t seem to shut your pretty mouth up.
“uh huh.” he leans his cheek against his knuckles, looking fairly uninterested as you ramble about how ‘discriminating’ it is that the local store always keeps the ramen packets on the top shelf, and his daring audacity to not be there to get it for you. ( asking for help is so embarrassing! )
“are you even listening?” a pout embraces your features, an inner feeling deep in your chest telling you you’ve been talking to a wall this entire time. sukuna’s lips only curve upwards. “what, are you doubting me?”
“what if i am?” you retort. it’s not like you would blame him for not listening, you talk. a lot…. okay, maybe a petty part of you can blame him.
“first you were complaining about me ‘not loving you enough’. then complaining about the dull decorations in my home, now ramen—is this a dumb pattern, woman?”
you feel your cheeks heating up with every syllable escaping his mouth. yeah you complained, but that much? someone needs to get you an oscar, or whatever.
“oh my god you..” your eyelashes flutter. “you listen to everything i say?”
“what- no, i was just.. shut up woman.”
a sly smirk etches onto your face. “that’s so cute, you love me so much huh?” you poke teasingly, smirk only deepening at the way his face engulfs into a scowl. “i will no longer listen to your stupid ramblings.”
rest assured, he still made sure to react to all 27 voice messages you sent him.
✩⁺₊✩☽⋆𝕾𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖑𝖊𝖙'𝖘 2024 12 𝕻𝖗𝖔𝖒𝖕𝖙𝖘 𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝕮𝖍𝖗𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖒𝖆𝖘⋆☾✩⁺₊✩
𝐷𝑎𝑦 𝑂𝑛𝑒 (12/1/24): 𝑆𝑛𝑜𝑤𝑦 𝑁𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 (𝐾𝑢𝑟𝑜𝑜 𝑥 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟)
𝐷𝑎𝑦 𝑇𝑤𝑜 (12/3/24): 𝑆𝑙𝑒𝑖𝑔ℎ 𝑅𝑖𝑑𝑒 (𝑆𝐷𝑉!𝑆ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑒 𝑥 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑓𝑡. 𝐽𝑎𝑠)
𝐷𝑎𝑦 𝑇ℎ𝑟𝑒𝑒 (12/5/24): 𝐶𝑜𝑙𝑑 (𝑆𝐷𝑉!𝐻𝑎𝑟𝑣𝑒𝑦 𝑥 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟)
𝐷𝑎𝑦 𝐹𝑜𝑢𝑟 (12/7/24): 𝐻𝑜𝑡 𝐶𝑜𝑐𝑜𝑎 (𝑆𝑎𝑘𝑢𝑟𝑎 𝑥 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟)
𝐷𝑎𝑦 𝐹𝑖𝑣𝑒 (12/9/24): 𝐺𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟𝑏𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑 𝐻𝑜𝑢𝑠𝑒 (𝐵𝑜𝑘𝑢𝑡𝑜 𝑥 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟)
𝐷𝑎𝑦 𝑆𝑖𝑥 (12/11/24): 𝑊𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝐹𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑡 (𝑈𝑚𝑒𝑚𝑖𝑦𝑎 𝑥 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑓𝑡. 𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑠)
𝐷𝑎𝑦 𝑆𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛 (12/13/24): 𝑀𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑙𝑒𝑡𝑜𝑒 (𝐾𝑒𝑛𝑚𝑎 𝑥 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟)
𝐷𝑎𝑦 𝐸𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 (12/15/24): 𝑆ℎ𝑜𝑝𝑝𝑖𝑛𝑔 (𝑁𝑎𝑛𝑎𝑚𝑖 𝑥 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟)
𝐷𝑎𝑦 𝑁𝑖𝑛𝑒 (12/17/24): 𝐺𝑖𝑓𝑡 𝐸𝑥𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑒 (𝑆𝑢𝑜 𝑥 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟)
𝐷𝑎𝑦 𝑇𝑒𝑛 (12/19/24): 𝑆𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝐴𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑙𝑠 (𝑁𝑒𝑘𝑜𝑚𝑎 𝑥 𝑀𝑎𝑛𝑎𝑔𝑒𝑟!𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟)
𝐷𝑎𝑦 𝐸𝑙𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛 (12/21/24): 𝐼𝑐𝑒 𝑆𝑘𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 (𝐺𝑜𝑗𝑜 𝑥 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟)
𝐷𝑎𝑦 𝑇𝑤𝑒𝑙𝑣𝑒 (12/23/24): 𝑀𝑖𝑙𝑘 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝐶𝑜𝑜𝑘𝑖𝑒𝑠 (𝑈𝑚𝑒𝑚𝑖𝑦𝑎 𝑥 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟)
✩⁺₊✩☽⋆𝕭𝖔𝖓𝖚𝖘 𝕯𝖆𝖞 (12/25/24): 𝕻𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖘 (𝕸𝖚𝖑𝖙𝖎 𝖝 𝕽𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗) ⋆☾✩⁺₊✩
onsen incident — gojo satoru
synopsis. gojo satoru gets everything he wants and right now he really wants to go to an onsen with you.
contents. fluff, lovesick!gojo, he's just a cute loser, highschool!gojo (first year), he needs to be locked up asap
notes. this is part ii to indulge me? and a piece in the series, but can be read alone.
you’re not sure how you ended up here. one moment you were exorcizing a grade one curse that rampaged a small town with gojo and now you find yourself back at the ryokan you had stayed at the prior night. except this time around you have an overly excited gojo, still at a high from the successful mission.
“suguru mentioned how nice the onsens here were,” he brings up innocently, his lips curving into a sly grin. you spare him a side glance.
“we should be heading back to the airport to return to tokyo,” you asserted, eyes trained on the entrance of the onsen— a wooden paneled door leading to the private hot spring that came with the room you and gojo had unknowingly reserved.
gojo stretched leisurely, his body arched like a cat as he yawns, “i don’t know about you but i’m beat! that curse wore out all my energy and a quick dip in an onsen is just what this body needs.” he opens one eye, gauging your reaction.
you don’t buy his act. “you exorcised the curse instantaneously, gojo.”
but gojo doesn’t back down easily, “yeah, well that took up a lot of cursed energy and now i’m drained,” he reasons. the white haired male solidifies his argument by collapsing on you just to show how fatigued he was. his dramatic show nearly sends you tumbling.
annoyance simmered in you, arms folding over your chest. the flight back to tokyo was in a couple of hours, and you had hoped to be able to go sightseeing.
but gojo’s sky-blue eyes plead silently as they look up at you, unblinking. his pink lips start to quiver. it was hard to deny him when he was basically begging. as comical as his dramatics were, you could almost argue how hard it was to resist his unwavering gaze. plus, he was the one that completed the mission singlehandedly.
“fine.” you yielded. “thirty minutes and then we leave.”
he perks up happily.
“great! let’s go!” without wasting a moment, he seizes your hand and practically skips to the entrance.
you recoiled, nearly shrieking, “you pervert! i’m not going in there with you! i’m going to go sightseeing.”
gojo looks at you like you’ve sprouted two heads.
“... then what’s the point of the onsen?” he looked at you incredulously. it deeply troubled you that someone so conniving could look so innocent.
your response is caught in your throat, leaving you flustered and unable to make eye contact. arms remained crossed, you mutter, “you’re insane if you think i’m stepping foot in an onsen with you.”
gojo’s tongue prodded at his cheek, lost in thought, “they do say you have to be insane to be a jujutsu sorcerer." he looks at you all enthused, "don’t be shy now, we’ve already slept together after all.” there’s a teasing lilt in his voice.
“we slept in the same bed– not together! don’t you go spreading that around now,” you jump to cup a hand over his mouth. you feel him grin underneath the palm of your hand.
“same thwing,” gojo’s voice is muffled, but he doesn’t bother taking your soft hand off his face.
“it is not,” you furrow your eyebrows.
“it can be.” he wiggles his eyebrows, a boyish smile growing.
you remove your hand from his face, “have you no shame?”
“not a shred,” he declares cheerfully. “come on, we’re wasting precious time standing here. i can feel the steaming water calling our names.”
“i’ve told you already, gojo. i’m not going to a hot spring naked with you.”
he waves his hand dismissively, “you don’t have to be naked, it’s not unheard of for people to go in with a towel.”
you sigh exasperatedly at his stubborn disposition, “it would still be highly inappropriate.”
“as inappropriate as cuddling with your classmate while he’s naked and unconscious?” he raises an eyebrow suggestively. gojo was once again referring to the previous night’s moment of vulnerability.
you stiffen.
“it was not like that and you know it. for all i know, you were the one cuddling me,” you retorted, crossing your arms with a huff.
gojo raises his hands in defense, “how about we call it even and hop in the hot spring together as a compromise?”
“that doesn’t make any sense.”
“it makes perfect sense. just two classmates relieving the weight of the world off their shoulders.”
you hate that he’s starting to convince you.
the knowing smile creeping on gojo’s face signals that he’s sensed your weakening resolve. he decides to deal the finishing blow.
“this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. with busy lives like ours, who knows the next time we will be able to visit one of the world’s best hot springs?” he gestures dramatically. reluctantly, you start to give into his words.
“fine. but if i see you indecent, i will kill you.” you point a finger threateningly at gojo.
he simply chuckles, “kinky.”
operation satoru x [name]!!!!
gojosatowu attachment: 1 image
shoko.ieiri what the actual hell gojo. i did not need to see a picture of you with nothing but a towel on. ts is disgusting.
getosugu where is [name]? i thought you guys were returning from your mission today.
gojosatowu heh the two of us are going to take a little dip in kyushu’s world famous onsens haha :3
shoko.ieiri WHAT
getosugu you?? [name]?? onsen?? together?? gojo satoru explain hello?
shoko.ieiri where is [name] you dirty pervert i swear i’ll murder you if you pull any dirty tricks answer now
gojosatowu gotta go! ive been dreaming of this day ><
shoko.ieiri don’t you go ignoring us!!
you’re already settled in the hot spring by the time gojo arrives. with a snug towel secured tightly around your body, you are submerged underwater from the chest down. the steam curls lazily into the air, casting a dreamlike haze around you.
“for someone that was excited about the onsen, you came awfully late,” you quipped at the snow-haired boy. his signature glasses are absent, allowing you complete access to his azure eyes. on the other hand, gojo is granted the opportunity of seeing you in all of your natural beauty.
gojo enters the steaming water just a couple of feet away from you, “had to calm myself before seeing you.” he sighs contentedly when the water envelopes him. it was true. his nerves were a lot calmer when he was fighting the grade one curse than the short walk from the changing room to the hot spring.
you can't help but roll your eyes at his obvious flirtation attempt, but you decide to let it slide.
the conversation lapses into silence, an awkward veil settling between you. you were starting to regret ever entertaining gojo’s invitation to the onsen. to escape the discomfort, you divert your gaze to the steam rising from the water's surface and the surrounding rocks. the trees around you start to look interesting as you focus on not letting you eyes stray on gojo’s solid buil—
breaking the silence, gojo interjects, "did ya think i looked cool taking down that curse?"
your eyes shift from the rocks to gojo’s face, “it was quite impressive how you were able to crush the curse with your infinity.” you have heard of stories of gojo’s strength, but seeing it with your very own eyes was truly incredible.
he preens under your praise, a faint blush coloring his cheeks.
"perhaps i deserve a reward," he suggests, his voice taking on a playful tone.
you entertain the idea, your curiosity piqued. "i suppose you do."
a deeper flush tinges gojo's cheeks, and he averts his gaze. without warning, he points at his cheek, anticipating something. you tilt your head, puzzled by his unspoken request. he keeps pointing to his cheek, poking it multiple times.
“…”
“give me a kiss!”
the water ripples with how fast you lean back, “huh? no way.”
undeterred, gojo shakes his head. "fine then. i guess i'll have to kiss you.”
your eyes widen as he leans closer, and you instinctively scoot away, surprised by his boldness. "what? no!"
“eh?! why not? i went total snowagumon on that curse!”
“that’s your job gojo,” you respond matter-of-factly. you’re a bit taken aback by his digimon reference. how dorky.
gojo clicks his tongue, feigning indignation as he looks away. “hmph. can’t even get appreciation for keeping the world in balance.”
you let out a resigned sigh, realizing he's being dramatic again. it almost feels like dealing with a child. but you suppose you’ll play right into his hands this time– and this time only. he has worked hard on this mission, taking on all the work while you watch idly from the sidelines.
hesitantly, you inch closer towards his frame. the distance closes as you lean towards his face. it was only a split second, but your lips placed a chaste kiss on his cheek.
you watch what once was a pink blush blossomed into something deeper. gojo sits up a little straighter and you notice how the corner of his lips are slightly upward.
“gojo, are you oka–”
“satoru. call me satoru,” he interjected, sounding breathless, his eyes locking on yours.
you look at him, uncertain. “isn’t that a bit too informal? we’ve only known each other for a couple of months.”
“if it was up to me, we’d be married by now,” satoru closes his eyes nonchalantly, sinking deeply into the water until half of his face is under. he blows a series of bubbles. he really was a child.
your laughter rings out melodiously as you throw your head back, finding his remark utterly amusing. “you’re actually ridiculous.”
satoru watches you with a soft smile, his heart feeling lighter. it was criminal how cute you were. if this was his reward for exorcizing a measly grade one curse, he was willing to wipe out all special grades on the earth just to receive your praise again. maybe next time you'll even kiss him on the lips (he'll die a happy man if that happens).
"i am, aren't i?" he muses, basking in the joy of the moment.
extra notes. i lowk hate this but due to popular demand i had to write it. ps i dont even know anything abt digimon i js know gojo likes it gn (forgive me if my digimon reference was totally wrong)
When i'm reading an x reader and the character starts to clearly be in lust with the reader and not in love
now playing…
i love you by billie eilish
↺ |◁ II ▷| ♡
boyfriends bsf! satoru x reader
finallyyyy posting a concept that has been on my brain for months. lord.
cw’s!!: gn! reader, angst (>:3), ur dating suguru so he is the bf in question, andddd this takes place in the canon universe so. do w that what u will :p
wc: 1.3k (whoopssss got carried away ><)
boyfriends bsf! satoru who was in love with you from the moment the two of you met. you were a transfer student, quiet and a little stoic but not rude by any means. if anything, he teased you for being too formal.
boyfriends bsf! satoru who invited you to every group outing, slowly but surely trying to urge you out of your shell. he introduced you to suguru and shoko and you were set from there!
boyfriends bsf! satoru whose face goes beet red the first time he hears you laugh. not a small giggle or an amused scoff — a full, loud laugh at something suguru had said. he didn’t notice how nervous you had seemed while talking to his best friend, he didn’t mind how you only laughed at sugurus jokes like that… he was just happy to be there to witness it for himself.
boyfriends bsf! satoru whose heart drops when you tell him about your crush on suguru. he knew suguru felt the same, he had told satoru not too long after he introduced you to him.
“i’d say to go for it.” satoru finally declares, causing you to raise a suspicious brow. what was his deal? you expected him to have a bigger reaction over this…
he only shrugs at your suspicious look. “just sayin’. what’s the worst that could happen?” he puts on a cocky smile that doesn’t quite meet his eyes. “what, you scared of lil’ sugu?” he leans closer, poking at your side to tease you. he only laughs when you click your tongue and push him away.
boyfriends bsf! satoru who isn’t surprised whatsoever when you and suguru get together a couple weeks later. he starts taking more missions for a while after that.
boyfriends bsf! satoru who’s surprisingly supportive after his “emo funk” (name courtesy of shoko). he even recommends spots for dates (they were all coincidentally catered to your tastes. spots that he had planned to take you… at least they were being put to good use now instead of rotting in his brain).
boyfriends bsf! satoru who bites hard into his tongue or cheek whenever he sees the two of you particularly close during a few of their hangouts. sugurus whispering something in your ear with that lovesick little smile on his face and you’re giggling while watching him with heat in your cheeks and hearts in your eyes.
boyfriends bsf! satoru who has to excuse himself to the bathroom when you and suguru show up late to a hangout with huge smiles and disheveled hair. it was the faint purple mark on the soft skin of your neck that did him in, making bile rise in his throat.
but of course, things change, don’t they? all good things must come to an end.
what goes up must come down.
satoru was the one tasked with telling you about suguru’s defection (“you’re their best friend, satoru. they won’t believe anyone else.” yaga had told him, giving a sympathetic squeeze to the teens shoulder. as if that would fix anything. as if that would fix the way you had gone completely numb at the news when he told you later that day. he had never seen you so lifeless before).
he blocked that out of his memory to the best of his ability.
(ex?) boyfriends bsf! satoru who visits your dorm as much as he can after that. he has to take more missions due to there now being one less special grade sorcerer, but he makes sure to remind shoko to check on you when he’s gone for long periods of time. it’s what suguru would’ve wanted.
(ex?) boyfriends bsf! satoru who doesn’t even sleep in his own dorm anymore. what was the point when you were calling him over every other night because of your nightmares?
(ex?) boyfriends bsf! satoru who’s so gentle while handling you. he helps you wash your hair and brush your teeth and he hand feeds you every meal (to make sure you actually eat the food he brings you) despite your protests that you were fine.
(ex?) boyfriends bsf! satoru who doesn’t say anything when you cuddle up next to him every night the both of you lay down next to each other, he just languidly wraps an arm around your middle and traces patterns over your shirt.
“i miss him.” your words are nothing more than a whisper into satorus clothed chest, but he hears you loud and clear.
his movements halt for a moment and he shifts to pull you closer to his chest. “i know. so do i.” you don’t say anything about the shakiness in his voice.
(ex?) boyfriends bsf! satoru who sees you cry for the first time that night.
(ex?) boyfriends bsf! satoru who gently guides you to look at him so he can wipe away your tears while whispering small comforts until your breathing slows.
your head is back to resting against satorus chest, the only remnants of your previous sobbing being small, hiccuped breaths that were too stubborn to go away.
“what if…” his voice breaks the silence, snapping you out of the faraway expression you were sporting. he searches for what to say. it was strange to see him look so unsure.
“what if he comes back?”
he’s not asking to be cruel, you know he isn’t. you know what he’s really asking though. you don’t have an answer to his unspoken question.
“hey.” he calls out softly when you don’t speak. his volume is the same as before but he sounds more urgent now, like he’s ready to beg for something for the first time in his life.
he takes your face in his palms again, his eyes searching your damp face for anything but the numb expression that had lingered since suguru left.
“you can’t leave.” god, he’s trying so hard to sound firm but his voice cracks when he calls your name. “you can’t follow him, i won’t-… i can’t-“ his eyes narrow like he’s going to snap at you, but the sharp words die on his tongue when his eyes start watering out of frustration.
“i’d have to kill you- both of you-“ he’s desperately trying to reason with you, his palms pressing into your cheeks. “you can’t expect me to do that.” he’s shaking his head now, denying an unspoken (inevitable) fate.
you try to call his name, to reassure him that you weren’t planning on leaving (were you lying to yourself or to him?) but he’s shut you out. he’s still holding you but his teary eyes are unfocused.
and you don’t know whether it’s the heat of the moment or desperation to get him to listen, but your lips are brushing against his before you can even process your own movements.
the touch is featherlight but it’s enough to quiet his racing mind. he sees the conflict in your eyes, the shock at your own actions. he can tell that it wasn’t meant for him, that for a brief moment you saw him instead of satoru. you don’t say anything, though. no frantic apologies, no embarrassed scrambling to pull away from him. you just… stare at him. the same way he’s staring at you.
the kiss wasn’t meant for him, but… can’t he act like it was? what difference would it make if suguru wasn't there to receive your love anyway?
(ex?) boyfriends bsf! satoru who presses his lips against yours in a proper kiss before you can pull away from him. suguru left him to pick up the pieces after his departure and that’s exactly what he was doing. if grief is just love with nowhere to go, satoru would gladly give you somewhere to put that love. it’s what suguru would’ve wanted.
mdni ;3
cw for somnophilia :3
toji waking you up with his tongue to your pussy ever since you gave him permission to touch you while your asleep </3 you both can’t start your days without cumming anyways, so why not knock out two birds with one stone and do it together!!!!!!
i am so vividly imagining this rn. the warmth in your stomach, the little squint in his eyes because he just woke up too, the way he’s holding his tongue pointed so the tip is rightttttt against your sensitive little clit………..
the SOUNDS omfg the sounds that are coming out of this man. he’s moaning like it’s the best meal he’s ever had and it’s the first meal he’s had in years. michelin star dining. he’s insane.
u whine abt morning breath after he goes in to kiss u :33
“you don’t believe that sex is the most intimate thing that two can do together?” you repeat sukuna’s previous words with a raised eyebrow, skepticism lacing every word you spoke.
“i had concubines before i was devoted to you. do you really think i see intercourse as something significant?” he doesn’t even spare you a glance, all four of his eyes focused on carefully peeling the fruits resting in the bowl in front of him (mangoes, to be specific. a special order he put in with uraume for you). your eyes narrow at his words.
“so you don’t see intercourse with me as something significant?” that earns you a roll of his eyes.
“i don’t recall those words leaving my lips, woman.” he glances at you with a bored look, already much too used to your antics and the nonsensical conclusions you often pulled from his words (“it’s called reading in between the lines, ryo.” you had insisted. he chose not to debate you on it).
he sighs when you go silent, seemingly waiting for an explanation from him that would fix the small pout gracing your lips. he would’ve let you sulk if you were anybody else, but you weren’t.
“i realize the significance humans place on it now that i am yours, but i partook in the act purely for pleasure before you. it was simply to fulfill my fleshly desires.” he doesn’t need to look at you to know that the frown on your face still hasn’t faltered. in fact, the displeased look on your face probably only deepened upon the mention of him being intimate with other women.
“human customs are foolish, that will never change.” his hand lifts to your lips, a cube of mango held delicately between his fingers. he continues speaking only after feeding you the fruit.
“but if my stubborn little wife sees it as something of importance, then it shall be so.” he says the last part with a sense of finality, as if it was a part of his life that he accepted a long, long time ago.
you contemplate his words for a moment, your posture easing against the lavish pillows of your shared bed. you stall on swallowing the piece of fruit on your tongue, considering a question in that ever curious mind of yours.
“what’s significant to you, ryo?”
he pauses for a brief moment but doesn’t answer, simply bringing another piece of fruit up to your lips (whether the action was out of care or to keep your mouth occupied was unclear).
his lack of an answer was as good of an answer as any, though.
this was significant to him. the way he cut and fed you soft fruit with hands that had slaughtered armies, handling you as if you were made of fine china. never yelling, never arguing.
the king of curses devoted himself to you because deep in his heart he acknowledged his subservience to you.
that is what’s significant to him.
mdni!! (ﾟωﾟ)
satoru pauses in the middle of when you’re fucking to squeeze his eyes shut and thank whatever higher beings out there that he has a big dick.
because despite literally being born the strongest, he’d be damned if he couldn’t fuck you the way he does. he could handle living without the six eyes and limitless but not being able to fuck you correctly?? he’d rather drop dead on the spot.
mdni!!! (≧∀≦)
UMMMMM UHHHHHHH BLAME THIS ON THIS POST AND VALE I DIDNT DO ANYTHING!!!!!!!!!
cw’s!!: light(?) petplay (sugu calls u puppy + clicker trains u hehe), very very light dacryphilia, gn! reader (no specific parts mentioned other than the fact that ur bottoming!!), husband sugu…. the loml……..
wc: 792 :3
it started off as something silly! “for positive reinforcement.” suguru had explained simply when you narrowed your eyes at his initial mention of the idea. even after that (very poor) explanation, you still weren’t completely convinced.
“i’m just worried about you, my love. we’ve exhausted every option, haven’t we? why not try something unconventional?” and you would’ve refused once again, but ohhh, the way he wrapped his arms around your waist as he spoke… he was only worried for your wellbeing, after all…
he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head after your reluctant agreement.
and honestly? it wasn’t that bad at first! you had honestly thought that he forgot about the whole thing after a week of radio silence on the topic.
it wasn’t until he got home from a full day of errands that it was brought up again.
“did you eat, pretty?” he asked softly after pressing a peck to your lips in greeting. as soon as you let out a small hum of affirmation, there was a distinct sound coming from your husbands pocket that made your eyes narrow in suspicion.
two distinct clicks.
it took you a second to realize what it was, but an annoyed huff left you when you saw the smug look on his face. fucking bastard…
“good job, puppy.” you could only push him away as he laughed and heat rose to your cheeks.
it became almost routine after that. yes, you did huff and pout a couple of times after that initial instance, but you were used to the clicker after the first week. it was the same routine every time — you did something to take care of yourself, you got two clicks and a small praise from him.
and maybe… after a while… you found yourself purposefully taking care of yourself just so he could praise you… (you weren’t very good at hiding it, he saw the way your perked up expectantly whenever you told him about something good that you did.)
the thing is: if this whole arrangement started off as an experiment, why was the small, plastic device resting in his palm while you were struggling to sink onto his cock?
“c’mon pup, you got it...” his free hand is squeezing at your hip, the pads of his fingers digging into the soft skin there (it’d probably bruise later, but that’s the last thing on your mind at the moment).
“stop-… stop callin’ me that…” your voice comes out much whinier than you would’ve liked, but who could blame you? it was always so hard to take him in this position.
your bottom lip is in a small pout and wobbling slightly in frustration, your watery eyes fixed on where you and suguru meet. he stays quiet, running his hands over your skin in a comforting gesture to ease some of the tension in your muscles (it works, of course. his touch always brought you an unexplainable sort of comfort.)
you finally take all of him a few minutes later with a small, whimpered curse, the building tears in your eyes finally rolling down your cheeks when you feel the tip of his cock nudge right against that spot inside of you.
click click!
“thaaat’s it, puppy… fuck-“ a winded sort of chuckle leaves him. “— squeezed so tight when i used the clicker… you like it that much?” his hips twitch up into you involuntarily, making a strangled little whimper leave you against your will as you shake your head adamantly in denial.
“no? i must’ve been imagining things, then.” he breathes, finally starting the slow rock of his hips (of course he’d never let you do any of the work on your own!)
even so, your hips move to meet his motions while small, punched out moans escape your lips.
“there you go, puppy…” he groans softly. “takin’ me so well, so good f’me.” he’s practically babbling out praises at this point and as much as you wanted to deny it, the annoying little nickname he gave you was getting you close embarrassingly fast.
and fuck, the final thing that does you in are the godforsaken two clicks! that your brain had seemed to be specifically searching for.
his eyes are wide as he watches you unravel on top of him, the small whimpers leaving you only further confirming your puppy-like nature to your husband.
“did you just-” “shut up.” your voice is weak with embarrassment and your orgasm, but he’s quick to listen despite that.
he silently hopes he could train you to do that every time he used the clicker. how fun would that be?
eres mia by romeo santos w suguru. yeah.
soaking in the bath while toji sits on top of the toilet seat bc he’s a big baby and can’t handle how hot you like your water.
you’re on your phone or reading a book, the skin above the water dewy from the steam and he just watches you. he watches as your head lulls to the side with a sigh before your breathing steadies. he’d think you were asleep if he didn’t know you any better, but he did.
he’d normally tease you, say something about how he didn’t know cpr if you fell asleep in the bath… but he doesn’t. instead he matches his breathing with yours (anything to make himself feel closer to you in the quiet moment) and leans against the back of the toilet. he’s content with watching you until your skin got all pruny. after all, isn’t that what he’ll be doing years from now anyway?
i think the scariest part of just like. the baseline, fundamental parts of asylum therapist! suguru is the origins of his obsession if that makes sense??
(referring to the au i established in this and this oneshot :]])
like this man truly, truly believes that you’re an angel just because you were able to see through his charm. you saw the darkness in his eyes — in his smile — that he always tried so hard to hide… but you. you saw it from the first time you ever met him. even when you’re sedated and your judgement is clouded, you know the sort of evil in his heart.
you knew him better than anyone within the first half hour of knowing him and you weren’t scared. you threatened him. for someone as damaged — as delusional — as suguru geto, that’s the biggest sign of divinity that you could’ve given him. why wouldn’t he want to keep his angel safe?
and even if you are an angel, he knows you were given to him as a punishment. too much of a good thing is bad for you and suguru is convinced that you are that good thing, that his indulgence in you will surely lead to his fall. knowing that, who could blame him for stalling his inevitable demise? if he was to die by your hands at least let let him hold those hands for the time being. even death row prisoners get a final meal, right?
now to you, suguru geto is the devil incarnate. you don’t believe he was some “divine punishment” (hell, you barely believed you deserved the worldly punishment given to you), but he was… something.
to have a man fully take away your power, make you weak… he had to die, that was your only option. even if you tried to escape you know he’d only use that as an excuse to restrain you even more when he caught you again (when. not if.)
you were smart, you had a plan. you just had to wait it out.
now playing…
bring me to life by evanescence
↺ |◁ II ▷| ♡
yandere asylum therapist! suguru x reader
the official prequel to this oneshot!!! while it is in the same au, this one (and the other one) can def be read as standalones!!!! ^.^
cw’s!!: descriptions of violence (bashing someone’s skull in, knocking someone’s teeth out), gn! reader, no use of y/n, delusional sugu!!! (the best sugu imo :3), and i think that’s it!!!! ^^
wc: 1.2k :))
one more meeting. one more meeting and you’d finally be done with all of the infuriating hours spent in and out of various psychiatrists offices. one more meeting and then you could go back to your cell and fuck off like you knew the nurses wanted you to (you weren’t stupid, you saw the way the nurses glanced at you through their peripherals. it’s not like it wasn’t for good reason). one more meeting and then you could just choose whichever therapist you vaguely remembered the name of (probably the irritatingly serene one. she was more than willing to talk about herself when you refused to answer any of her questions and she seemed tougher than the others, like she wouldn’t crumble under a few threats from you.)
there were four security guards surrounding you while you walked. it was like a big, blaring alarm. “do not come close.” (as if the loud metal clanking of your restraints and the vibrant red of your jumpsuit wasn’t enough to signify that already).
three of the guards fell back when you made it to the door. the last office was in a strange spot, past all of the cells and a long hallway, all the way in the back of the institution. there was a plaque outside of this door, as if someone important was sitting inside waiting for you (you almost laughed at the thought. flesh can be cut and bones can be broken, can’t they? your status can’t save you from violence).
you barely got to skim over the name on the plaque before the door was open and you were unceremoniously shoved through it, your lips immediately parting to shoot a half-formed threat towards the guard behind you (probably something about bashing his skull in, you didn’t really premeditate your threats before dishing them out)… until you were interrupted.
“now now, is that any way to treat my patient?” the voice that cut in was deep. smooth and warm but not pleasantly so (not like a fireplace or a summers day, but like heated metal running along your skin. so hot that you don’t even register the pain until you’re already burned). there’s a hand on your shoulder before you even realize, the deep voice closer than before. you resist the urge to shudder at the touch.
“why don’t you go sit, hm? i can’t imagine those heavy restraints are comfortable to hold up like that.” you only respond by shouldering his hand off of you and sending the security guard a sharp glare, the metal of your restraints loud when you settle yourself in the chair in front of a large oak desk. you felt like you were at a business meeting rather than a preliminary therapy session.
“i’ll handle it from here.” is all the man says before the last security guard leaves the room. you don’t bother to look at him as he settles himself in the chair across from you.
it’s quiet for a long moment, the only sounds in the room being the soft shuffle of the papers he’s looking through and the ticking of the clock on the wall (god how you wished you could knock it off the wall. it seemed to be getting louder with every incessant tick). you were starting to wonder if he was planning on talking at all (you could only hope. you’d much prefer to sit in silence rather than watch yet another doctor desperately try to get you to answer their questions). your hopes were dashed as soon as they appeared.
“i apologize for the delay, that was rude of me. it’s just been quite a while since i last took a patient, i’m rusty with the procedures.” his voice finally cuts through the silence. you don’t say anything, you don’t even glance up at him. interesting.
“i’m sure you saw my name outside, but it feels rude not to introduce myself anyway. i’m dr. geto, the leading psychiatrist of this institution.” that catches your attention. your eyes are already narrowed in annoyance when you look at him, your brows only furrowing more when you took in his appearance. he was pretty. irritatingly so. you don’t doubt he had every nurse wrapped around his finger just because of that fact.
“you’re the leading psychiatrist? so what, is this some sort of last ditch effort to fix me?” you question, your sharp gaze continuing to watch him through your lashes. you hated how smug his expression was, how those purple eyes seemed to dissect you the moment they had a chance, how he smiled at your cynicism.
“if that’s how you want to think about it, then yes. though i would say that’s quite a pessimistic line of thinking, no?” you don’t say anything, so he continues. “i was the one who requested to see you. i stopped taking patients when i got promoted to this position, but you…” he pauses, considering his words. “your case interested me.” you scoff.
you can tell he’s waiting for you to say something, watching you with that same unsettling smile. you’re caught in a strange sort of staring contest with him, but it only lasts until he says your name.
and that. that’s what makes you snap.
it was nothing more than a soft utterance, something to call your attention back to him… but the way he said it, the way the syllables dripped from his lips like something so nauseatingly sweet while he held that agitating fucking smile on his face… you were convinced he was lucifer himself.
“if you keep smiling at me like that i will knock all of your fucking teeth out, do you understand me?” you lean forward in your seat when he doesn’t respond immediately, your restraints clanking with the movement.
“do you understand me?” you repeat. you’re not loud with your words, not at all. you’re deadly quiet, eyes wide and staring right at him. he manages to school his expression quickly, but you’re perceptive. you catch the flicker of surprise on his face.
he swallows before he speaks, his adam’s apple bobbing slightly with the action (you briefly wonder what it would feel like to cut through it). “… i understand.” his volume matches yours but he can’t hide the slight breathiness in his voice.
his heart is pounding so loudly in his ears he’s almost sure that you can hear it just as clearly as he can (he wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case, at least. he wouldn’t be surprised if you could read his thoughts with the way you were looking at him).
he briefly wondered if you were something divine, something sent down to punish him by seeing right through his facade. something that could see that he deserved to be in those restraints just as much as you did. the thought sends a shiver through him and he averts his gaze (which is only confirmation to him. why else would he be so distraught if not for some sort of divine intervention?)
you both make your own decisions when you’re escorted out of his office a few minutes later.
anyone but him is what you decide.
and he decides that he’s yours.
oh no omg i tripped!! i tripped and i fell and this fell out of my pocket!!!!! oh no how convenient and conspicuous oh no!!!!!!!!!! ><
i so badly wanna write the preliminary meeting that i mentioned in the yandere suguru thing…………. i just think it’ll be funnnn teehee ^^