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ayyy-pee · 3 months ago

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𝕆𝕌𝕋𝕃𝔸𝕎

Discord 18+ - Twitter - Part Two of Outlaw Series

Pairing: Outlaw!Suguru Geto x Female Reader Genre: Western AU WC: 8.7k Summary:

“Gettin’ train tickets ain’t easy. Where ya headed?” “Just a few towns over. Goin’ to visit family,” you explain, now more relaxed with him. Something about the way he was able to soothe your nerves makes Suguru feel proud. It also is making him clearly insane, because some sick part of Suguru begins to think he could be your family. If you’ll let him. “What about you?” His brows shoot up in surprise. Why would you want to know about him? “Me?” You nod quickly. “I know you’re…” You lean forward and Suguru mirrors the action as shivers race up his spine when you whisper scandalously, “...an outlaw.”

Story Warning: Train robbery, hostage situation, lying and scheming, profanity bc bitch it's me??, dub-con, Suguru has a corruption kink, needy downbad Suguru, "virgin" reader, guns, smut, blowjob, riding, fingering, spit, thinking about spitting, i love spit, dirty fantasies, titty sucking probably, using ropes, hair pulling (lmfaooooo), threats of violence, dirty talk, inexperienced reader, spit!, overstimulation, humiliation kink, Suguru is kinda pathetic, actually real pathetic, don't get your hopes up idk

Artist Credit: @/tsumusbeloved (on twitter)

A/N: FINALLYYYYY. This has been sitting in my drafts for like 3 months!!! I hope yall enjoy!!!

Tags: @syubseokie @yasu-1234 @cassayeee @glmpsfs @struxkbylightning @aotdump @oidloid @sunnysdiarythoughts @stillseren @lovebittenbyevans @avaatara @elliesndg @luv-kae @megtheebimbo @buttercupblu143 @toffeebrat @kaqua@moggleatlife @candy-s72 @sukunadckrider @xixflower @apchmon

It’s the shrill screech of the metal meeting metal on the train tracks that Suguru enjoys most about his work. How this massive tank of metal carrying so many people can just fly across the country, providing beautiful views of miles and miles of desert sands and mountains. The wildlife roams free on the frontier without a care in the world. And the train just keeps going, filling the sky with thick curls of black smoke.

Yeah, this train has many people on it.

Which means, this train has plenty of goods that will soon be his.

“Ah, you dropped your hat, boss.” A smooth voice speaks behind Suguru, holding open the train door as one other clambers in. Suguru kindly grabs his hat from the man, placing it atop his head as he watches his partner take the last person’s hand, lifting them inside.

It’s a woman, small and with strawberry blonde hair. She grabs onto the man before her. The disgust is clear on her face as her eyes roam along his body.

“Couldn’t pick another day to wear no shirt, Larue?” She complains, spreading a small cloud of dust as she brushes her clothes off.

Larue shrugs, chuckling lightly while he closes the train door. The rushing roar of the winds finally subsides. “It’s hot as all hell outside, Manami. Why not be shirtless? Besides, it gives everyone something spectacular to gawk at.” He motions towards his chest where his new set of ink lies – two hearts, one where each of his nipples are.

“A drunken bet gone right, if you ask me,” Larue had said the night after. “They’re gonna love these at the whorehouse.”

“If you two’re finished…” Suguru begins. Both Larue and Manami straighten up. “I wanna get in ‘n outta here. No funny business. Larue, take the back of the train. Better for you to be there in case the conductor gets any ideas. Grab what ‘ya can get your hands on – jewels, shoes, money. Don’t matter.” Suguru taps his chin in thought, running through his mental list to make sure he hasn’t forgotten anything. “Oh! And don’t forget to check the bars for any spoons or forks. Y’know what that silver’s worth. Me ‘n Manami will take the front of the train.”

Larue nods, no further instruction needed and Manami smiles next to him excitedly. She quickly shuffles over to Suguru’s side, looping her arm through his and Suguru rolls his eyes before slipping his arm out of her hold. Manami shoots him a pouty look before she quickly recovers, folding her arms over her chest.

“Alright, Boss. I’m ready.” She says with a hushed tone. Larue gives one more nod before he turns around and heads the opposite way. He slides the door slightly ajar, peering inside and just after he enters and the door has been shut and locked, Suguru and Manami hear the muffled shrieks of the passengers in the car.

“Hands in the fucking air! This is a stick up!”

Suguru peers down at Manami who is already staring up at him with eager eyes. And it takes everything in Suguru to not roll his eyes in response. She really gets on his last nerve.

‘I gotta get rid of her after this one,’ he thinks as he moves past the woman and into the opposite end of the train.

He slips through the door, closing it quietly behind Manami once she’s in. No one bothers to look up when they come in and Suguru counts his lucky stars that this will be easier than he anticipated. They make their way along the aisle, offering soft smiles to the passengers that happen to look up as they pass. Suguru thinks there’s nothing but a bunch of carefree monkeys too relaxed and stupid as all hell on this train. They don’t even know what’s coming and if they know what’s good for them, they won’t bother to fight back when they find out.

He lets Manami do the work of maintaining a mental checklist of every item worth its salt in this train car. This is where he’ll leave Manami to do her part. Then Suguru will take the final car where the stragglers usually reside. Larue is already taking care of everything in the back. When he’s done, he’ll pile up all the goods in an empty car and then make his rounds to grab what Manami and Suguru collect.

When they reach the end of the current car, Suguru turns to Manami who is already reaching into her blouse. She beams, eyes locked on Suguru as she slowly pulls out a pretty little Colt’s revolver. Her lips pull up at the corners, a sly grin on her face. If it’s meant to be alluring to Suguru, it’s not working. In fact it’s having the opposite effect. It’s so annoying, the way her pupils dilate when she looks at him. It’s only been a few months since Manami joined their group, but it’s only getting worse for Suguru. She spends half her time trying to seduce him and failing. And it’s not that Manami is unattractive. She’s a very beautiful woman, but she’s not exactly Suguru’s type.

He’s looking for someone a bit more…inexperienced when it comes to this life of crime. Someone he can mold into his ideal woman, untouched by the roughness that west has to offer. Manami has been doing this for far too long, and already has habits that consistently get under Suguru’s skin. She’d never interest him that way.

The pink haired woman flashes Suguru her gun, pointing her chin towards the last car as a signal for him to go on. Suguru nods, spinning on his heel and heading towards his destination. And just in time too, because he hears the door on the other end of the train car close and he knows Larue has finished and has come to assist Manami.

The train car slides shut behind Suguru right as he hears the passengers scream in the car behind him. It’s louder than the first instance and catches the attention of the passengers in his car who now stare at him with wide eyes, mouths agape like a sea of fish.

Suguru rubs the nape of his neck, frowning. Then, offering a goofy grin, he mutters, “Ah well…” He reaches behind him, wrapping his nimble fingers around the cool, wooden handle tucked into his waistband. He whips out his revolver, the sun glaring off of the fancy gold weapon as Suguru aims it at the passengers who all shriek in terror. The women clutch their jewels. The men hold onto their women. And Suguru? He laughs raucously before he barks out, “Put ‘em up!”

- - - - - -

It’s a little surprising how easily the heist goes, but Suguru tries not to give it too much thought. You start thinking something’s gonna go wrong and it damn sure will. While Manami is guiding passengers into the back cars, Larue has the conductor held hostage, locked away with threats of a bullet to his skull unless he continues driving. He’d only shown his face and quickly hid away in his cabin when Suguru told him to use his fucking brain unless he wanted it splattered across the window.

Now, Suguru finds himself roaming the cabin to see if there are any stragglers. And there is one. A very beautiful woman, at that. There you sit, in the last seat of the train car. He slowly makes his way over to you. Suguru thinks you must be some type of saloon girl. Your pretty little dress and waist neatly cinched in a leather corset is the giveaway. He glances over his shoulder, just to be sure this cabin is empty, only to find that it truly is only himself and you left. He hates having to wrangle the stragglers. That’s Manami and Larue’s job. And Suguru hates it even more when they’re not doing it.

He tightens the grip on his gun, turning to give you an earful until his eyes meet yours. They’re so wide and glistening, like you’re on the verge of tears. Your lips are quivering, your bottom lip protruding in a pout. It reminds him of the look Manami gave him just before the heist started. Except when coming from you, for some reason, it’s bringing out a different reaction.

His heart rate quickens, and Suguru’s hands suddenly feel clammy and not from the heat in this train car. He can feel sweat beginning to bead on his forehead and he has to swallow to quell the dryness that’s forming in his throat. Then he’s tucking his weapon away into his holster and moving towards you.

“I beg your pardon, ma’am,” Suguru speaks calmly as he takes the seat in front of you. You peer up at him, with apparent fear in your eyes and he wants nothing more than to see that look disappear. Usually, he’d use force to get you out and rounded up with the rest of the passengers. He’s not sure why, but there’s something about you that makes Suguru want to take care of you. “Why didn’t you leave with the rest of the crowd?” He questions.

You’re fidgeting with the fabric of your dress in your lap, visibly shaken even as Suguru removes his hat and sets it on the seat in front of you before he sits down.

“I–” you clear your throat and bite down on your lip, seemingly to calm your nerves.

“I’m not gonna hurt ya, ma’am,” he tells you softly, reassuring you. “Just wonderin’.” Suguru takes this time to drink in your features – how soft you look, the way your body so beautifully fills that dress of yours, how you’ve got a face that will be burned into his memory long after this encounter.

And for some reason, it also feels as if it was burned into his memory long before this encounter. There’s a familiarity about you that Suguru can’t quite place. He’s certain he’s seen your face somewhere. He had been through many saloons and brothels in his time traveling the frontier. Perhaps he had run into you in one of the many establishments he frequented?

No. No, Suguru would remember if he saw a woman who looked like you in any of those places. You would have easily stood out in the crowd. He would have called you up to his room on any of those nights.

You bite down on your lip as you stare at Suguru. As afraid as you look, you don’t break eye contact. To see you so stricken with fear, and yet you steadily look him in the eye without blinking. You show courage even when faced with danger, and it does something to him.

The look on your face has him picturing all sorts of things about you and he doesn’t even know your name.

“I was afraid,” you mutter quietly.

Thankfully so, because Suguru was just about to begin imagining a life outside of crime with you. Which is shocking in and of itself. Three minutes of simply staring at you had him visualizing a future on the prairie hanging laundry on the line while you fed the cattle.

‘Keep it together.’

“Don’t be scared. I’m not gonna hurt nobody,” Suguru reassures you again. He tries to calm your nerves with a smile which seems to work because he sees you visibly exhale. You return his gesture with a small smile of your own, and his imagination runs wild once more.

“Promise?” You ask, Suguru’s smile widens.

‘Cute,’ he thinks. He wants to see more of those. “I promise, sweetheart.”

He can hear the way you huff, something between a laugh and a sigh of relief. And Suguru finds himself becoming more and more infatuated with you as he keeps the conversation going.

“Gettin’ train tickets ain’t easy. Where ya headed?”

“Just a few towns over. Goin’ to visit family,” you explain, now more relaxed with him. Something about the way he was able to soothe your nerves makes Suguru feel proud.

It also is making him clearly insane, because some sick part of Suguru begins to think he could be your family. If you’ll let him.

“What about you?”

His brows shoot up in surprise. Why would you want to know about him? “Me?”

You nod quickly. “I know you’re…” You lean forward and Suguru mirrors the action as shivers race up his spine when you whisper scandalously, “...an outlaw.”

He leans back, rubbing his chin thoughtfully while he purses his lips together. His gaze is locked onto you because he wonders if you’re up to something. If you’re not as sweet and innocent as you look. But when you lean back and flutter your lashes at him, he begins to doubt it. That sweet face of yours is a rare one to see on this side of the wild west; beautiful and unscarred. You don’t look like you’ve been exposed to anything more dangerous than a thunderstorm. And it’s arousing. The air of innocence that you carry has Suguru shifting in his seat, his pants suddenly feeling tighter.

This is exactly what he’s been wanting. Someone opposite of Manami, someone who is interested in his life, but not involved with crime in the least. As far as he can tell, you’re clean as a whistle. And Suguru likes to think he’s good at reading people.

“Never seen a outlaw before?” He drawls. You shake your head, back to messing around nervously with your dress.

“Never,” you answer softly, batting those pretty, long lashes at him. “Only seen ‘em on signs. Wanted…dead, or alive.”

Oh, you really are sheltered.

“Well, now you’ve seen one in person.” Suguru combs his fingers through his dark tresses, grinning like his criminal status is one to be proud of. To him, he supposes it is. “What d’ya think?”

You do that lip biting thing that Suguru is beginning to realize he finds cute. Maybe it’s a nervous tick, but this time it seems it’s to be you holding back a smile. Everything you do is cute to him. Everything you do is sweet, innocent, arousing.

“I…” You lean forward in your seat again, and whether you realize it or not, it gives Suguru a perfect view of the swell of your breasts. It’s a struggle to keep his focus on your face when your skin looks so smooth, and unmarred, perfect. Those plush lips of yours whisper, “...I think it’s exciting.”

He can only think one thought in this moment.

He wants to ruin you.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s excitin’ about it?” He asks, though he has an idea what it is. The travel, not being tied down to anyone or anything, the freedom this life provides. It’s what they all say when they try to make small talk. “Pretty girl like you can’t possibly know nothin’ about this life.”

You inhale deeply, leaning back in your seat and Suguru watches closely, the way your chest rises and falls with the breath. “Well, I never seen a outlaw in person. Surely never spoke to one. And…” You purse your lips together, like you’re contemplating if you should say the next thing. But you do anyway. “I just never thought a outlaw could be so pretty.”

His eyes widen, the corners of his lips rising with a goofy grin. “Pretty?” He chuckles, combing his fingers through his hair again. “You really think so?”

He’s been called a lot of things, but pretty is not one of them.

“Yep. Look at ya.” You stand, moving quickly to cross the small gap between you both and take a seat next to him. You reach for his arm, then hesitate, pulling back for a second. You peer up at Suguru, silently asking permission and he nods. Your fingers ghost along his forearm, over his bicep, along his neck where his Adam's apple bobs with a gulp, and then your hand is cupping his cheek. Your trail leaves behind a trail of goosebumps.

And Suguru’s pants grow tighter.

Suguru has had his fair share of women and men alike during his time as a felon. But you’re particularly tempting. He’s not sure he’s ever wanted someone as badly as he wants you right now and it’s been all of ten minutes in this train car together. But any minute now, his crew is going to come through those doors and tell him they’re ready to go. And then Suguru will have to leave and the chances of him seeing you ever again are slim to none.

But on the bright side, the chances of him seeing you again are slim to none. It’s a little sudden, but you seem like you want him with the way you’re feeling him up right about now. Maybe you'd let him bury his cock as deep as he can go, fuck you until you’re screaming his name, begging and crying on his cock. Then he’ll fill you with his seed, maybe leave a baby in you to remember him by if you’re lucky and then he’ll grab his spoils with Larue and the rest and go. Then he'll never see you again.

This desert is far and wide. He’d have you today, then never have to face you again for the rest of his life. A woman like you? You'll be just fine. A pretty face and an even prettier smile. Though he thinks you're a bit naive. Have to be to be sitting here chatting with him like he’s some gentleman you met on a leisurely trip to see your relatives. Regardless, there will be some poor fool out there that'll be happy to have you after he's had his way with you.

‘Weren’t you just daydreaming about settling down with this woman?’

“Pretty eyes,” you hum, pulling Suguru from his filthy fantasies. “Nice skin, pretty lips. Just…very pretty.” Your thumb caresses his skin and his eyes can't help but notice the way your gaze is locked to his lips. He pokes his tongue out, watching your eyes widen just slightly at the motion, as he runs the wet muscle along his lips. And he’s right back in his head, thinking of all the ways he could have you.

There’s no mistaking the thick tension filling the room at this moment. Like a lightning bolt hitting the same spot repeatedly. Each stroke of your fingers along his cheek only intensifies the mood. Suguru’s lips curl into a teasing smirk, and yours into one that matches. “Why do I feel like you're trouble?” He says.

Your smile widens, and like a magnet, Suguru finds himself slowly being drawn closer and closer to you. Even as a soft laugh falls from your lips, his mind is wiped clean of all thoughts that don't consist of you.

“Me? That’s funny comin’ from a outlaw like yourself,” you mutter just as you close the distance between you, pressing your lips teasingly to Suguru's. They barely touch, truly a ghost of a touch but Suguru still has to swallow down the moan that damn near bursts from his chest the second your mouth was close enough to his.

You pull away suddenly, covering your lips as you lean away, your eyes wide with worry. “‘m sorry.”

“What are you apologizin’ for?” Suguru asks, scooting closer.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into me…I just…” You’re back to fidgeting with your dress again, and Suguru places a large hand over yours to stop the movement. “You’re a criminal, and I’m just me. I shouldn’t even be talkin’ to you.” You stare up at him with wide eyes, and fuck he wants you.

You look so sweet, so pure looking at him like that. And he feels a little like a piece of shit because while you’re looking at him with probably innocent thoughts floating around in your head, he’s thinking about how he’d love nothing more than to cover your face in his seed.

“I’m not a bad guy,” Suguru lies easily. “Have I done bad things?” He shrugs, because he’s done way too many terrible things to count. Better not to give a real answer to that one. “But I’m enjoyin’ our conversation. The kiss was just a perk. Wouldn’t mind it if it happened again. I’d gladly accept it.”

“But…I don’t even know you…”

‘All the better,’ is what he wants to say, but instead, he tells you, “And that’s fine. Listen–” he squeezes your hand gently. “Best part of bein’ a criminal is that I just do what I want. Don’t gotta ask permission for nothin’.”

Your eyes swim with curiosity. “It’s that easy?”

“Yep. Do what makes ya feel good, sweetheart.”

You still don’t look convinced, and if this next question doesn’t work, Suguru will have no choice but to tie you up and dump you in the other train car with the rest of the hostages. He doesn’t have much time to waste trying to get you just to kiss him.

“Lemme ask ya…did you like kissin’ me?”

He knows he should be worrying about the heist, not some pretty face distracting him from the job. But when you speak again, he tells himself the job can go to hell.

“Yes…but…I got scared. I– I’ve only done some things with a man…” you admit quietly. “And I’m not too good at it.”

Fuck. He has to have you.

“That’s not a problem, sweetheart,” he reassures you, and you beam.

Your hand grasps onto Suguru’s, squeezing tightly. “Really?”

He nods. “I don’t got much time before I gotta leave, but I can show ya some things real quick.”

“You’ll show me? How to do things?” Your voice is eager, so ready. Suguru is finding it hard to contain how much you’re turning him on right now. “Like kissin’ and…y’know other stuff?”

“What kinda stuff?” He asks, because he wants you to say it. Wants to know how far you’re willing to go if you’ve never done a damn thing before. You pinch your lips together, turning your head away shyly. But Suguru gently cups your chin, turning you to look at him again.

“What kinda stuff?” He repeats. “Tell me.”

“Stuff…that makes a man…y’know…”

He grins, tauntingly. “Enlighten me,” he whispers.

“Stuff to make a man…” you worry your lip between your teeth. “...feel good.”

Oh hell.

What type of good deeds has Suguru done to find himself here? With someone as virtuous as you, who is asking him of all people to show you how to please him? He has half a mind to tell you no. He’s got shit to do and his partners are bound to come looking for him any minute. But his cock is screaming within the confines of his pants to get into those undergarments of yours. And there’s no argument to be had here.

He’s listening to his dick.

Suguru crashes his lips to yours, swallowing up the yelp that escapes you from the sudden kiss. “I’ll teach ya whatever ya want, pretty girl.” He groans into your mouth.

He kisses you hard, but slowly, giving you time to catch up. You’re a little slow to pick up, but you get there. Your lips slot against his, fingers slipping into his hair and holding on tight, making Suguru groan into the kiss once more.

“We don’t got a lotta time,” he breathes against you.

You nod, pulling away to look up at him. “What d’ya want?”

You.

He needs you – bent over the passenger seat and holding onto the bar sitting atop it while he fucks you from behind. He needs you sitting on his face, needs your hand around his length. But he’s looking at your face again, so desperate for instruction. Looks at your lips, swollen from the little bit of kissing you’ve been doing. And he knows exactly what he needs in this moment.

“Ever had a cock in your mouth?” He shifts, sitting back against the seat.

You shake your head.

“Ever touched one?”

Another shake of your head.

“What have you done?”

You hum, thinking only for a short time before you answer. “Kissed.”

What fucking luck.

Doesn’t matter what they score off the train today. This is the biggest reward of all.

“Good,” Suguru says, tugging your hand until you stand. With a grin, he guides you to the floor until you’re sitting up on your knees. “There won’t be another man who’s had ya then. I’ll show ya how to please me, make me feel good.”

You nod, and Suguru can’t believe how easy this was as he fumbles with his belt, quickly undoing the buckle. He yanks his pants down, along with his underwear. Only to his knees. He wants to be able to get up quickly if needed. Suguru’s dick sits against his stomach, fat and long, with a harsh red tip that leaks with precum. He peers down at you, your eyes honed in on his length.

“Touch it,” he whispers encouragingly.

Your eyes meet as you move, your hands wrapping around Suguru tenderly, pulling a hiss from him. You hold his length like it’s a foreign object, and he supposes it is to you since it’s the first time you’ve done. Suguru grits his teeth, bringing a hand up to your fist. You’re simply touching him and his dick is throbbing in your grip.

“Move your hand…up ‘n down,” he tells you. “Like this.” He guides you, helping to move your hand in slow and light pumps until you’ve found a rhythm that works. His head falls back as the pleasure takes over. “Ahhh–shit, just like that, pretty girl.”

“It’s so big…” you sigh, licking your lips as you stroke his cock slowly.

From here, Suguru is certain he has a perfect view of you. Eyes wide and curious while you observe every ridge and vein running along his length. It turns him on beyond measure, his hips jerking upward in your grasp.

“Damn,” he moans, fucking himself into your hands. For someone with no experience, you hold his dick just right. He never knew a woman’s touch could feel this good, but you’re a natural talent. You stroke him so good, his mouth falls slack as he lets himself enjoy the feeling of your hands around him. But you surprise him, just as you’ve been doing all this time, his eyes snapping open just in time to watch you lick from the base of his length all the way to the tip, teasing the slit with your tongue and lapping up the bead of precum that sits there.

“It’s salty,” you giggle before you kiss down his shaft, bringing your attention to his balls, kissing and licking the two orbs teasingly. Suguru inhales sharply, eyes rolling to the back of his head as the sensation makes his head swim with pleasure. Especially when your hand wraps around Suguru’s length again, pumping him up and down, slowly as you continue to lap at his balls.

“You’re already so good at this,” Suguru pants heavily.

“I am?”

He can hear the excitement in your voice, so eager to please him. It turns him on knowing that you’re trying so hard to make him feel good. He wonders if you can feel his cock throb in your hands.

“So fucking good,” he praises you, loving the way you hum against him.

“Can I put it in my mouth?” You ask sweetly, squeezing your hands around his cock.

“God, please.”

When you take Suguru into the warmth of your mouth, you hum around him, and the vibrations make him shiver, back arching off of the seat. His palm finds the back of your head, his hips rolling up so he can shove his cock as far as possible without hurting you. He’s gentle at first. You’ve never done this before, after all. He wants to give you the time you need to adjust, though he can’t afford to give you too much. Which seems to be just fine, because just like before, you catch on quickly. You take his cock damn near to the base, and you take it so well, relaxing your throat for him so it’s easy.

“Could fuck this pretty little mouth all day,” Suguru grunts, pumping into you. “So goddamn good.” The sound of his balls slapping against your chin as he fucks your face has his legs trembling, pleasure shooting straight up his spine. He wants to grab your head and push you down further, make you swallow all of him until he blows his load down your throat, then make you swallow that, too. But he doesn’t want to cum just yet.

He craves more from you. He needs more from you.

You hum again, sending another vibration through him as your fingers come up, caressing his balls. And Suguru squeezes his eyes shut, trying so hard not to cum. “Ah– shit, shit!” He pushes at your shoulders, forcing you off of him with a loud and wet pop. You look rather pleased with yourself, smiling when you see his red cheeks and the way he rapidly tries to catch his breath.

Like he noted before. You’re trouble.

“Fuck, you’re fuckin’ perfect,” he gasps, staring at your chin dripping with saliva and his juices. Suguru watches through hooded eyes as you swipe it away. He could watch you on your knees all day, taking his cock down your throat time and time again. But unfortunately, time is not on his side today. He needs to hurry it up.

“C’mere, pretty,” he calls for you, taking your hand. You stand, waiting for your next instruction as Suguru leans forward in his seat. His hands find your waist, pulling you close enough that he can press a kiss to your stomach before he leans back again. “Pull up your skirt for me.”

“Okay…” you agree, shakily. You reach for the hem of your skirt, pulling the layers of fabric as high as it’ll go. Suguru always hated these damn dresses. It’s like digging for gold trying to get through every damn piece of clothing. But eventually, you get to the end, revealing your bare thighs to him. Soft, plush, beautiful. But what he’s truly interested in remains concealed by your underwear.

Suguru swallows hard before he drags his finger along your clothed pussy, grinning when your thighs tremble just barely. His gaze glides back up your form until they rest on your face, watching as your mouth falls open with a silent moan.

Hard to believe you’ve never been touched here. Also, so very arousing to think you’ve never been touched here. He thanks his lucky stars that you’re allowing him to be the first.

He slips his finger into the fabric, his slender fingers quickly finding your slit and sliding along your folds. He sucks in a sharp breath when he feels how soaked you are. He briefly brushes a finger against your entrance, pausing when he feels you tense up.

“Might hurt a little,” he warns as softly as he can manage right now. But you whisper, “go ahead”, hands coming to rest on his shoulders as he dips his finger into your pussy, biting back a moan when he feels your soft walls clench down on his hand. It’s tight, as expected but he moves slowly, pulling back every so often to work his way further.

You whimper above him, squeezing his shoulders as your breaths come rapidly while Suguru pumps his finger in and out of your hole. Your bottom lip sits between your teeth, and your brows are knitted together.

You’re enjoying this.

And he’s enjoying watching you.

Suguru presses his thumb to your clit, slowly circling the sensitive nub. Dark eyes lock with yours as his other hand finds the top of your dress where he hooks his fingers into the cups and pulls it down. Your breasts spill out of the fabric and your breath hitches when the air caresses your nipples. Suguru kneads the soft flesh, his thumb swiping across one of the hardened buds.

“Ahhh, yes,” you moan, your voice barely above a whisper. Your head falls back with a loud gasp as Suguru slips another finger into you.

“Bein’ real good for me,” he coos. His dick grows painfully harder as he slowly thrusts his fingers inside of you, while his thumb stimulates your clit. He’s panting trying to hold himself together while he preps you for what he wants next. Your hips move on their own, riding Suguru’s hand, chasing your high.

“Feel good?” He grunts, fingers slipping into you over and over, curling inside, and hitting your sweet spot and you can’t help but to gasp quietly each time Suguru touches it.

“Y-yes, feels incredible,” you whine.

Suguru’s eyes are locked on your center where he watches his fingers disappear into your cunt over and over, your slick coating his hand more with each thrust. It only adds to Suguru’s struggle to keep it together as he ignores the pulsing need of his cock. Your pleasured moans and the squelching sound of your dripping pussy fill the space of the train car.

“I’m–” you breathe harshly against him and he feels your walls squeeze down on his digits. You’re close already.

“Gonna cum, sweetheart?” Suguru’s fingers dip into you faster. His eyes linger on your face as his thumb rubs tight circles on the sensitive bud between your legs. Your eyes flutter closed, mouth hanging open as a delicious moan rushes past your lips, your grip on Suguru’s shoulders tightening so much it stings. But he loves it, loves feeling your pussy squeezing down on his fingers, sucking them deeper as your release crashes over you until he can feel your cum dripping down his fingers and into his palm as he keeps pumping into you.

Suguru sighs as he stares at his fingers, slowly pulling them from you. He licks his lips, admiring his slick covered hand.

He’s never taken the time to just enjoy the moment with anyone. Never cared much to please a woman. It’s easier for him to just get himself off and high tail it out of there. No attachment to these ladies, no reason to stick around. But what is it about you that makes him want to see all the ways your body is capable of falling apart? Because it’s a beautiful sight to behold.

“Outlaw…” you murmur, slipping your undergarments down your legs until you’re able to kick them off. You push Suguru back by the shoulders, lifting your skirt so that you can easily maneuver into his lap. His hands find your hips beneath your dress as you straddle him, and his thumbs caress the soft skin gently.

“Yeah, beautiful?”

So beautiful. He can’t stop staring at you and your eyes, glazed over with desire. You lean forward, the heat from between your legs making Suguru’s length twitch. It lightly taps your core and you gasp. Your hands clutch onto the bar that runs along the top of the train seat, one on each side of his head. Suguru’s palms glide around to your backside, squeezing the flesh of your ass. You brush your nose against his, soft breaths mingling with his as you whisper, “make love to me, outlaw…” just before your lips touch.

And Suguru’s groaning into your mouth, because this kiss is different. It’s hungry, hot, full of want and need. It’s sloppy and rushed, because you’re both aware of the time crunch you’re in. It’s intoxicating, addicting, the way he never wants to stop kissing you. To hell with the heist.

“Ready for me, pretty girl?” Suguru pants, a hand gripping his cock. He can feel the heat of your pussy radiating off of you and it makes him all the more eager to have you.

Your eyes are wide, filled with something Suguru thinks may be excitement. He’s not sure he sees any hesitation or fear behind your eyes. You want him badly, it’s clear as day. He wants you just as badly, if not more. So he positions himself at your entrance, nudging your hole gently with his tip.

A small whimper slips past your lips, and Suguru kisses you sweetly. “It’s only gonna hurt for a second,” he coos. “Promise…”

He kisses you again, muttering, “I’m pushin’ in…” against your lips.

You close your eyes, teeth digging into your bottom lip as Suguru rolls his hips forward, slowly sinking his tip into your pussy, only stopping when you let out a harsh breath.

“‘S a tight fit,” he murmurs through gritted teeth. An understatement. Your pussy is gripping him with so much force, he’s struggling to breathe. You’re holding him hostage within your walls and the feeling has him tightening his hold on your ass. “You alright?”

Because he wants to make sure it feels good for you, too. Your pleasure is his. Which is a whole new feeling for him in and of itself. He’s aware of how the tables have turned. What started as him wanting to show you ways to please him, turned into him desperate to please you. But he likes it that way.

You nod, moaning quietly when Suguru keeps moving forward. “Ohhh…”

“God, this pussy is so fuckin’ –” he can’t even finish his sentence. He needs to focus all his attention on not cumming already.

You take him all the way to the base, moaning loudly when you fully sink onto him. Your grip tightens around the bar, steadying yourself as Suguru lifts you by your ass before pulling you back down on him, so slowly. “Fuuuck–” he groans. He thrusts into you at a leisurely pace, slow and controlled, giving you time to adjust to his size.

But his kisses…they’re rough. Such a contrast to the way he’s fucking you right now. The pleasure is overwhelming to Suguru, and when your tongue slips into his mouth, it’s him that’s whimpering now, thrusting just a little faster, a little harder.

“Damn, you take my cock so good, pretty girl–” he growls into your mouth. “Love the way you ride me.” He smacks your ass hard, eyes falling to your breast, bouncing up and down with the rhythm of his thrusts. He takes one into his mouth, greedily lapping at your nipple, nipping and sucking and loving the way your cries get louder.

“Oh my god, fuck!”

“Ride my cock, pretty. You already do it so good. Wanna see you ride me.” Suguru groans. He releases his hold on you, hands coming up to play with your breasts while you bounce wildly on his dick. He lifts your dress, relishing the view of his length, glistening with your slick, vanishes into your tight cunt over and over. “Shiiiitttt…”

You slip a hand into his tresses, pulling hard and forcing him away from your nipples. You pull so hard Suguru has to close his eyes because the sensation sends goosebumps igniting across his body. That, combined with the way you keep taking him to the tip before slamming down on his cock repeatedly. Fuck, you’re a quick learner.

Your pussy is what it feels like every single time he pulls off a heist successfully. Like fucking heaven. And he never wants to leave it.

His eyes flutter open, just enough to see your breasts bouncing with every rise and fall of your hips. Your velvety walls hug him tight, so fucking good, Suguru thinks he'd like to be able to have you all the time. Hell, he has half a mind to take you with him once they’re off this damned train. Being able to have you like this any time he wants, watch your body come undone under him, on top of him, in any position you’ll let him have you. He’d even give up this outlaw life if you wanted him to. Settle down, start a family if that’s what you wanted. The thought of it makes Suguru more excited than he’ll ever admit.

Each time your pussy sucks him back in, begging for him to cum, he can suddenly picture a life outside of this. Each time those sexy little noises fall from your sweet lips, he can suddenly envision raising a family with you, building himself a life where he's able to hear those sounds any time he desires.

He lets his mind drift to these fantasies while he can, enjoying the feeling of you and the sounds you gift him with.

There's a fire pooling in his belly, growing hotter each time his balls meet your ass. He's gonna blow his load here any second. And he can't wait. He wants to cum inside your walls, wants to thrust himself so deep into you that there's no way you're not carrying his child when he's done. Least you'll have something to remember him by if you tell him you don’t want shit to do with him after this. A sweet woman like you with a wanted felon? Of course you’d prefer to get your rocks off while you can and move on. Which is fine.

Because Suguru is gonna remember you, anyway. He’ll remember the way you squeeze around him, the way you moan the little nickname you’ve given him, the way your cunt feels fucking unlike any other woman’s. You’ve got him mesmerized.

So much so, that he doesn't even notice the cool press of steel against the center of his forehead.

“Ohhh,” you moan, whimpering, “Please…please…will you put a baby inside me, outlaw?”

It’s like you read his mind, and Suguru’s eyes snap open, balls tightening as his release threatens to come at any moment. But then his eyes see the stiffness in your arm, see the glimmer of metal as the sunlight reflects off it through the windows, and he finally realizes you've got his gun to his head, and maybe that’s actually why his balls are tightening. You’ve got this wicked grin on your flushed face as you keep riding him. Hard, fast, walls squeezing him in a vice grip. And he can't do shit but let his eyes roll to the back of his head, let his pleasure race straight down his spine and into his balls as his release shoots from his cock before he has a chance to get ahold of himself.

But you don’t let him get a drop inside, lifting yourself smoothly off his lap just as fat, hot streams of cum land messily in his lap and on his stomach. Suguru’s gasping for air, still struggling to figure out what the fuck is going on. And you don’t give him a second to catch his breath, to let his mind catch up before you’re wrapping your hand around his cock again, squeezing and stroking his length until he’s so overstimulated his jaw is cramping up from how hard he’s gritting his teeth to keep from crying out.

“What the fuck are you ahhh–” you run your thumb over his leaking tip, your eyes alight with joy when his hips buck up automatically, legs trembling as you keep pumping him, though his balls are beyond empty.

You tsk, shaking your head as you press the barrel of the gun harder against his skin. “Where’s that sweet outlaw from before?” You drawl.

Your voice has changed. No longer soft spoken, shy and sweet. The hardness of your tone tells Suguru all he needs to know. The memories come flooding back. And now he realizes why you looked so familiar when he first laid eyes on you.

Your face has been plastered on wanted posters in damn near every town he and his partners have stopped in. Murder, robbery, drunkenness, prison escape, cheating at cards. All the crimes that should have you in the town square hanging, you’re wanted for. Somehow, you’ve managed to never get caught.

How could he have let his guard down? How could he have fucked up this badly?

‘Thinking with your dick. That’s how.’

“Guess it takes an outlaw to know one,” He grits out, nostrils flared with fury. He can only hope his crew comes through those doors soon, though it’ll be fucking humiliating to be caught in this position.

A giggle spills from your lips and the sound makes Suguru sick to his stomach. You don’t even sound like the same person from before. “Y’all are pretty easy to spot. ‘Specially when all y’all think with your cocks–” You echo his thoughts, emphasizing the word by squeezing Suguru’s slowly softening length in your hand. You frown, releasing your hold on him. “Huh, thought you’d be able to gimme another one.”

He inhales deeply, shakily, narrowing his eyes at the woman – the stranger – that stands before him. “Everything you said was a lie, then.”

It’s not a question. He knows. Because you’re just like him. Maybe even worse.

Laughter bursts from deep within, like what he said was the funniest thing you’ve ever heard. “It really is easy to fool y’all men. Just gotta make our pussies feel reallllll tight and wet and y’all don’t question nothin’.”

You climb off of the seat, taking the gun off his head while you fix your undergarments, unbothered and careless. And Suguru decides to act fast, takes this moment to lunge for you. But he doesn’t make it far, because his head is yanked back roughly the moment he jumps forward. His scalp burns, and he reaches back, feeling a thick knot tied around the metal bar that sits atop the train seats. The same metal bar you were just holding onto moments ago.

“You fuckin’ tied my hair to the seat?!” He growls.

And you chuckle, shifting your dress around until you’re decent again. The gun is pointed back at Suguru’s face, and he puts his hands back down, not daring to try and free himself when you’ve got a revolver ready to blow his brains out.

“And your hands are next,” you promise in a sing-song voice. You keep your word, spinning around briefly to reach between the wall and your original seat, where you’d apparently hidden a small rope. You make quick work of tying Suguru’s hands behind his back, leaning a little too close to him as you finish the knot.

He can feel your breaths against his neck, and right now, if he’s being honest with himself – which he may as well be since he could very well be dead soon – it’s confusing him. Because he feels like he fucking hates you, is repulsed by you, could spit in your face right now. Oh, he really fucking wants to. But something tells him you’d like that anyway. And the thought of your face, depraved and covered in his saliva is making his still exposed length hard again. Even when you tug harshly on the rope for good measure, chuckling low in Suguru’s ear when you hear him hiss in pain, his cock stiffens further.

And of course you notice, your eyes glancing down to his lap, where the sticky mess you left him with lies. “Sure you don’t wanna go again?” You tease, laughing when Suguru scowls.

You like him upset, and probably a little pathetic, because you press your lips to his pout, kissing him hungrily. And apparently, Suguru is as pathetic as he looks, because – and it’s a surprise to him, too – he kisses you back! Your tongues tangle during this brief meeting of your lips, fighting for dominance, though it’s apparent who’s the one in control here.

The filthy moans between you are interrupted when Suguru feels that damned gun under his chin now, applying enough pressure to push him back. Only a line of your mixed saliva connects you two as you stare down at him in amusement.

“Like I said…” you peer down quickly at Suguru’s lap before whispering. “Aaaalways thinkin’ with your cock.” You step back, pointing the gun at him once again.

“What do ya want?” He asks, pulling at his restraints to no avail. He’d love nothing more than to wipe that cocky smile off your face and flip the tables on you, but it’s not looking good for him.

“What I want…” You wiggle the gun in his face, tauntingly. “...is already mine, outlaw.” There’s humor in your tone, and your body language is relaxed. You couldn’t see Suguru as less of a threat if you tried.

You piss him off.

And make him so fucking hard.

He’s confused!

The noise of the doors to the train cabin opening can be heard and Suguru grins. You’re fucked now. Larue is going to put a bullet between your eyes and sure, Suguru’ll be sad about it. But better you than him. You were a great fuck, he’ll admit. And yes, he entertained the idea of giving you a kid or two, maybe getting a little cabin out in the prairie. But that fantasy’s as dead as you’re about to be. Sad that he won’t be–

“The guy with the nipples and the girl have been taken care of, boss!” A chipper voice sings.

That…is not Larue.

Suguru couldn’t turn his head if he tried, courtesy of this goddamn knot, but he can see the smirk on your face as you nod. “Great work, Hime. And the goods?”

“Already on the move with the others. Just gotta get on the horses when you’re ready.”

You turn your head, staring out the window and nodding again. Out of his peripheral, Suguru can just barely make out the form of two horses, racing alongside the train and he knows he’s screwed.

You sigh, shrugging while feigning sadness as you pout. “Well, outlaw…looks like this is the end of the line.”

Suguru tugs at his ropes again, struggling against the holds. “You gonna leave me here like this?” He gestures with his chin at his…situation. You must be forgetting his entire dick is out for the world to see. And that you’ve tied his hands up. Not to mention his fucking hair! If he has to cut his hair because of this…

You hum, like you’re actually giving deep thought to his question. You’re not.

“Yeah, actually. Think I am.” You lift your dress, not even pretending to be as innocent as you presented yourself to be when Suguru first laid eyes on you. You tuck his gun into the waistband of your undergarments, patting it affectionately. “Thanks for a grand ol’ time, outlaw. If you manage to survive this, we can do it again.”

You shoot him a wink before you lean over him, leaving him with one final kiss on the lips. It’s gentle this time, soft, save for a light nip to his bottom lip that embarrassingly enough, manages to arouse Suguru yet again.

“At least tell me your name,” Suguru grits out through heavy breaths. “So I can be sure to repay the favor.”

It’s a threat, but you don’t take it as one. You simply smile. It’s warm, almost reminiscent of the woman he met just earlier. The woman he thought you were. But that look is gone as soon as it appeared. You pat his face gently, reaching across the seat to grab his hat that he had set aside when he’d first sat down. You sit it atop your head, wearing it like some sort of crown, and without another word, you leave.

The train cars open, the roaring rush of the wind filling the space for just a moment before they’re shut again, and Suguru is left with nothing but his thoughts and his dick literally out. He leans his head back against the seat, closing his eyes to calm his racing heart and honestly to stifle the pain of his untouched erection.

This has been the wildest ride of his life. Definitely the worst heist he’s ever done. And if he does survive this, does manage to somehow talk his way out of charges and prison time, he’s going to find you. Fuck the robberies. Fuck the brothels. Fuck gambling and drinking all day. Yeah, if he manages to survive this, he will make it his life’s mission to find you again.

Because even after all is said and done, Suguru thinks he might fucking love you.

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lxmelle · 8 months ago

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The man surrounded by the theme of love…

Geto.

Gege has made several writing choices to depict Geto as someone who was handsome and loved - arguably more than any other character in the series. Maybe Gege loves him the most - not complaining at all.

More under the cut - just a few visuals I’ve collected to demonstrate this. I’m certainly not alone in noticing it and there may be others who show this much better, lol. Tag me in if you want to share!!

My post does end with a not-so brief analysis which you can skip if you wish.

Geto, despite being cursed at birth with the technique to absorb the ills of the world, the very skill that led him to fight alongside Gojo as part of the Strongest Duo - by design, each others’ counterpart in so many ways - a twist of fate led them onto opposite paths, leading to complete imbalance, one that drove him into madness.

If Geto in some ways represented Love, it is truly the most twisted curse of all which played a part in his death.

Geto witnessed the most love confessions in the whole series - I found (and stole) it off twitter/now X:

The Japanese originals seem more compelling to me:

Riko says “daisuki” whereas Yuta uses a more traditional “Aishiteru” which, is quite embarrassing of a confession, and therefore almost hints at what could be Gojo’s last words to Geto, if it directly parallels Yuta & Rika’s relationship. And that expression Geto wears when he sees Riko and Kuroi struggle with separating?

That does not look like a person who cannot sympathise and empathise with people. Geto was a person who cared too much, and in search for a way to protect those he cared for, needed an outlet and something (in this case, lesser being, the humans) to blame. He descended into a mania and much like shinobu sensui from yu yu hakusho, seemed to develop some kind of mental disorder due to being unable to carry the conflicting ideals together. The dissonance the world presented to him was just too cruel, and he himself became a weapon to defend his ideals.

Before his defection, Geto was liked by his peers:

Haibara

Mei Mei

Loved by his family for and despite his ideals:

Mimiko and Nanako

Shibuya crew liked/loved him and carried his will/beliefs even after his death, in their own ways, as family:

Miguel and Larue in the most recent chapter to date:

Translations (rough):

Larue: You and me alike, we just wanted Suguru-chan to be King.

Miguel: Yea, I followed just because it was Geto. After shibuya, I trained Okkotsu and I don’t want anything to do with the country anymore. (Something along these lines; a little too complicated for my rudimentary Japanese)

Larue: You , me, Mimiko, Nanako, Manami, Toshihisa, everyone just really liked/loved Suguru-chan.

Canonically, he was known to be handsome and popular:

Takaba

Gege’s character book:

JJK popularity poll:

I do not have screengrabs of how Manami and Larue joined, but it was said to be due to how handsome they thought he was.

Maybe he was like Rika, who did realise how she came across in her life, and manipulated people, lol. But that’s a bit of a stretch to bring that parallel/similarity in. Geto was just quite a magnetic person, according to Gege.

And in the most roundabout way:

Gojo:

“my one and only”

“Love is the most twisted curse...” “curse me a little at the end.”

“I don’t need love to satisfy me” ... “if you were there I might’ve have been satisfied”

While love surrounds Geto, the theme that follows Gojo appears to be “the strongest” cursed; he was admired, revered, feared, and disliked by many. It truly breaks my heart, to think of what he had to give up to carry the weight of this for his whole life, until the very end.

This looks like the most dizzyingly lonely picture of Gojo. It was indeed ironic to have it all but to embody what it means to have an unlimited void by being totally different.

He suffered so much for his power and to have carried this strength. The sorcerer world was practically on his shoulders. The balance was up to him; everyone relied on him. Every time he tried to protect his love (geto) it seemed to fail. It worsened each time, ending with his own demise. But of course that’s just a dramatic interpretation - I don’t really mean/believe that, but it is one way to see the tragedy between Gojo and Geto. Strength at the expense of love; it plays out with the strongest this far as those identifying with this title are plagued by loneliness and do not know love.

They met before things got twisted within themselves, between them. Even after Geto left, Gojo seemed to be looking and waiting for him - to prove his trust for him almost as if he saw through his illusions and lies. Geto was the shadow (Yin) and Gojo was the light (Yang). Only the light can see through the dark. I’ll leave the gojo characterisation for another time / to other better writers.

For now, I’ll just say that I felt that he had planned for the possibility of losing to Sukuna (with the various things we see him do between scheduling the 24th and the actual day) and if he won, he’d just carry on the plan to cremate Geto on top of saving everyone and being a good example as the strongest. Worst case scenario, he would weaken Sukuna and I guess just die on the same day as Geto - idk, maybe as a form of redemption for one of his most painful experiences in life. Who knows?

I headcanon he was relieved to pass on, doing his part to defend the world that relied on him so much, with a big bang - a really fun fight.

And I’m glad they found each other at the end - the loved and the lost.

Back to Geto:

We don’t get much insight into what Geto wanted or felt aside from a world that was better for sorcerers, those he cared about. Even at the afterlife scene, or in subsequent chapters, we only hear from others rather than Geto.

Call me biased and delusional; I believe he didn’t kill the innocent despite saying he hated them all. He loved and hurt so strongly that he hated with almost equal force. He did want to force evolution and eventually extinguish all human kind, to him: the ignorant source of suffering, but I’m glad he didn’t manage to get Rika. I headcanon that he was aware he was losing himself by defying his own principles (to kill sorcerers) for his own gain. That, and Rika with a binding vow for a life, no less, was just too powerful.

In the official character book, Geto was described as someone who told himself that he hated humans a lot, like a reminder. He didn’t kill people indiscriminately. I’m sure he was well aware of how evil he had become but he had chosen, hadn’t he? He expressed to Yuta, that self-affirmation was incredibly important in his view. And the more he interacted with the students, I think the more his humanity fought back - I mean, he was standing there crying from being so moved by what he saw. He also let Yuta heal his friends. How villainous? Or how incredibly loving in spite of himself?

Geto has been shown to lie to others too: jjk 0: described having lied to the school about the conditions for obtaining a cursed spirit, and after defecting: upon taking stage for the first time, stating that the looking the part (wearing gojokesa) was important (ie lying). At his death’s door, he also prefaces with, no matter what anyone says - why would there be a need for that if he wasn’t telling a half-truth? He sought to avenge Riko (first person at the cult he killed after calling him onto the stage + cue mic throw) and the village represented a bunch of people who he slaughtered out of rage and ignorance. I’m definitely not defending him here - his actions are reprehensible. My headcanon view is that he didn’t know how to live with himself after snapping and that was the only path laid before him, which he ardently committed to.

I just think that he held onto a form of love/humanity still- Gojo and Geto both did. Without it, Geto would’ve become the Queen of curses due to Rika (uncaring about his family, or killing young sorcerors despite witnessing the students’ bond and yuta’s selfless power of love in jjk0) and Gojo may have focused on training at all cost without embracing Geto’s principles and becoming a teacher to change the jujutsu world - he could’ve become the next Sukuna and take the title of the King of curses instead - crowning them both King and Queen - instead of both the King and Queen contributing to their deaths. Anyway, I digress...

Geto appears very mother-coded in his protective and defensive relations to the girls, but also to Riko, Kuroi, and Gojo - especially after Toji had killed them. He was so fiercely trying to avenge and defend them, but failing that had a huge effect on him. Moreover, Haibara - innocent, glowingly positive - suffered an undeserved death. It weighed so heavily on Geto, that he didn’t defend Gojo when Nanami vented about leaving things to Gojo who seemed to take it all in his stride, almost insinuating that Geto, too, had little autonomy but to carry on that cycle of curse consumption he began to loathe.

Yuki also underlined the meaninglessness of the death / sacrifice / relationship rupture / suffering. And like the novel implies: Geto was too sincere for this world. He just loved too deeply and wounds cut him too painfully. At just 17... what inner resources were they forced to develop?

He was disillusioned by the system, but respected that Gojo had a place there. This is also SatoSugu indulgent: He never once attempted to talk Gojo into joining him, despite it being the most logical choice, but Geto was the emotional and loving kind - he prioritised Gojo over his ideals / himself. This man was willing to die trying to pursue his ideals, but didn’t want to try convincing his friend even if he know it might fail. What does that say about him? I think it says he loved Gojo. And Gojo loved him.

He masked like Gojo did : the infamous “yeah I’d win” and Geto’s “I’ve made my choice” and his face fell as he had his back turned, stating that he just needed to do it to the best of his ability. This may be headcanon but it does seem plausible to me. He was under no illusions about what he had done. To love was to turn away too. To love was to let the other go. Sigh.

Backtracking a bit: When Geto encountered the twin girls, who knows what entered his mind, but there was something that emerged from being horrified, enraged, and it gave birth to new meaning. He would take control and save them - from humans and the institution that made child sorcerors die. According to Gege, he became Papa Geto. (Kenjaku is also mum-coded but the antithesis of motherly love, with the womb protrusion domain and actually bearing children.)

This is of course not limited to feminine energy, as parents, both male and female, have protective instincts. But I’m not here to go into that discourse. Just stereotypically, and loosely speaking, Geto is very Yin energy. He is a big Mama Bear. With extreme maternal aggression. We see female counterparts do this in the wild more than males. And yes, of course both male and female are protective. Both geto and gojo were protective in their own unique ways. That’s for another post. Geto would rather die than have anyone come save him. In fact, the scripture behind him in the temple goes somewhere along the lines of “death to the weak”. If he had failed, he deserved to die. His family should live.

Gojo cares for others differently. And yes we know he died whilst defending others too. He is inherently more individualistic due to what he is with his gifts and noble heritage. He is less emotional and more cerebral, the only time we saw him lose his composure was due to Geto.

He allows his students to take risks and would allow them to fight in his stead, like in jjk 0 where Toge and panda were sent to be defeated by Geto. Tough love, as Gojo admits. This is also very Dad-like in the modern sense of the word.

In my subjective experiencing of the world, it’s almost like a husband who is only really emotionally vulnerable with his wife, and is otherwise the successful businessman, dad, and whatever else he is. Geto is much like a mum that he would walk away from her husband (lol, Gojo in this case) in order to protect them in a way she deems is best. Maybe I’m a little nuts, I don’t know. (Actually I am a little eccentric, but that’s by the by).

Now this is totally just satosugu indulgent: I headcanon that Gojo also “protected” / was possessive of Geto by making a deal with Miguel since the latter said he would curse Geto if he died, lol. Especially in light of the latest chapter where Miguel said he was spared by Gojo. (And i reckon Gojo was respectful of Miguel being Geto’s family, so he spared him for that reason too). I mean, Gojo had to kill his best friend, but this was his burden to bear, you know? It’s almost sickeningly intimate to allow someone to end your suffering, and be entrusted with that too. Ugh, ouch, my heart…..

Edit: I’m reminded of that scene where Shoko reflects on loving neither of them, like Gojo, Geto didn’t want anyone to be alone anymore either. Geto said he didn’t feel happy from the bottom of his heart. Gojo felt lonely (although he said it got better at the airport scene). They weren’t alone, but probably felt it… because of the absence of their true/first love? Larue stating in the panels above that Geto wouldn’t wish for them to fight seems like a nod to what Geto believed happened between him and Gojo. Gojo raised allies - be strong, don’t be left behind. Geto a family - get along, don’t fight. Just pointing out what my take is on the parallels I’ve observed.

That ends the brief analysis portion of what I wished to convey about what appears to surround Geto. He may not have been depicted much in the series, but his presence has been felt through the eyes of many. It made me wonder why did Gege do this?

This author deliberately wrote multiple people in the verse to love and follow him (and spare him a death sentence for 10 years) despite not agreeing to his ideals.

Perhaps it isn’t Gege’s focus, understandably, to give us a lot more insight from Geto’s pov, but there is certainly some kind of narrative he is pushing to depict how this man, cruel yet kind, is somehow one of the few he seems to portray in this way more than others within the sorcerer world at the very least. That his life was somehow a tragedy that he might not have really known the love at all? I wonder what Gojo’s last words were to incite such a heartfelt reaction - well done? Welcome home? You did well? I love you? My one and only best friend? Sigh, I guess it’s a secret between them.

There are others who have written metas on Gojo and maternal energy. If I find it I’ll link it! Otherwise, search through my reblogs! So many fantastic writers and thinkers out there!

Thanks for reading if you made it this far!

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pixelscutz · 1 month ago

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kento nanami,, food play kink - kinktober ! ★

“mhm..” you say giggling, as manami’s dick twitches, watching you spray some whipping cream into your mouth. “hurry up.” he mutters under his breath as you squirt the fluffy cream onto his chest. before he can complain how cold it is, you lick it off slowly training from his chest down to his lower abdomen, making sure to leave small hickeys along the way. his body shivers towards your touch, soon until reach towards your touch, clearly looking pained as you giggle looking up to him.

“such a pretty cock..” giggling, you squirt on another heavy load of whip cream onto his tip, making it trickle down to his balls.

“hurry up and put it in your mouth then.” nanami mutters under his breath. as soon as that statement leaves his mouth, your tongue starts to lick the thick substance off of his tip, pushing your mouth down further. his body shivers through your touch, making you excited about this new way to dominate him. Bringing your head up and down through a stable motion nanami lets out a loud moan making you full of adrenaline, and push down even harder than before, making you leave a mess mixed with precum, spit and whipped cream. a part of you think it’s disgusting while another part things it absolutely amazing. bobbling up and down, nanami warns you, “i’m about to cum- oh fuck baby..” he yells as he spills his hot seed into your mouth, leaving you as satisfied as ever.

warnings : food play, oral sex ( m! reciving), MA,, i got this kink inspo from icebreaker by hannah grace so creds to her !

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satorusugurugurl · 5 months ago

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I Think He Knows: (Chapter Six)

Summary: When your novel takes off and becomes a best seller, doors of opportunities open for you. You can work on the series you have dreamed about all your life. And you’re also given the chance to stay in a tiny cottage in Europe for two years to help with inspiration! Your best friend, Geto Suguru, shatters at the news. How could he tell you how he feels when you leave him? His opportunity appears right before him when you confess that your editor thinks a change of scenery will help with your not-so-steamy romance scenes. They’re lacking a particular spice because you’re a virgin. So, Suguru does what any best friend would do. He offers to teach you how things work. Will you cross that line as friends? Or will you both say goodbye?

Pairing: Geto Suguru x FAB!Reader

Word Count: 4,964

Warning: Language, suggestiveness, rql sex (male receiving) grinding, neck kisses, dry humping, mentions of character death,night terror, blood, mentions of PTSD, anxiety

A/N: Man oh man what a silly fluffy slice of life spicy series we got! It would be a shame if something happened 😀—😈

*MDNI*

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten Part Eleven

Think that you were an easy-going person who got along well with everyone. Generally, you were easy-going unless someone fucked you over, then you were a bit salty. Manami Suda Was the only exception. You could not stand her guts. She would be the only person he would gladly hit with your car.

“Manami,” you spit back, crossing your arms over your chest. “Suguru is expecting me.”

“Mm, he didn’t mention anything to me. You would assume he would make his schedule.”

“Ha, funny, let me in.”

“Huh,” she purses her red-painted lips together. “Let me check with my client and see if he’s available. We’re both swamped.”

You roll your eyes, pushing open the door, poking your head. “Suguru, call your Hellhound off.” Manami presses herself to the side, trying to block you from getting further inside the apartment.

“Geto is busy at the moment, but he’ll call you later.”

“Busy my ass Suguru!!”

Upon hearing you call his name again, Suguru headed out of his makeshift studio. He was covered in different blue paint hues, smeared on his forearm and cheek. His eyes darted between you, trying to force your way inside before back at his agent, who was fighting against your attempts. Dark ice glitter with the amusement at how you were putting all your effort into trying to squeeze past her

“Manami, let her in.” He finally said with a chuckle. “Before she starts gnawing at the door frame.”

“Ha!” Manami sidestepped again just as you tried pushing yourself inside, resulting in you falling face forward with the yelp dropping the groceries.“Geto called you a termite.”

Wincing, you sat up, rubbing your chin. Suguru had better put an ad online for a new agent because his current one was about to disappear without a trace. “But she’s the cutest termite in the whole world.” The bluntness and flirty tone of his voice had both you and Manami glancing at him as he headed into the kitchen.

Since when did he start calling you cute around other people? That was usually something someone said about their partner, right? Not their best friend. More importantly, why the hell did you love it?

Manami was too stunned to speak as she gaped at her client before looking back at you. You felt her eyes on you, so you didn't know what any mature adult your age would do. You glanced back up at her and smiled as wide as you could before sticking your tongue out at her. She glared, nose pinching up in annoyance as she flipped you off with her sharp, manicured nails. To which you shot back, flipping her off with both hands as you sat up on your knees.

“Girls.” hearing Suguru call you both out stopped the childish faces and the middle fingers, but no amount of tone, yelling, or godly power could prevent the glaring daggers you gave each other.

“We’re fine, Geto.”

“Yeah, Suguru!”

“You shouldn't use his name so freely!”

“Oooh~ last time I checked, I’ve been his best friend for over a decade!”

Manami clenched her fists together. “Yes, I am aware of that. You make it a point to remind me of that every time I see you.” You stood up, putting the groceries in the kitchen before flopping onto the couch.

“Because you act like I should be courteous and cold to him! I've known him longer than you. So kiss my ass.”

“Geto!” Manami barked, her hair flowing as she looked into the kitchen. “Do you hear the way she's talking to me?”

Your eyes focused on the way Suguru washed paint off his arms. His hands brushed back stray dark strands of hair behind his gauged ears. “Manami, if you just let her in, she wouldn’t be in such a mood.” A certain pleasure settled in your stomach. “She’s always welcome in my apartment whether I’m working or not, you know that.” For some reason, your stomach twisted, and heat pooled between your legs as he told her pretty much to fuck off.

Suguru heard the faintest whimper from the direction of the living room. Looking through his lashes, he smirked, seeing your flushed face. God, you were so easy to rile up. For once in his career, he wanted to shove his agent out and pin you against the sofa. He wanted to pry open your thighs that were pressed together open. Desperate to see if you were as wet as you were a few days ago at breakfast. God Suguru wanted to taste you again, to make you cry on his tongue.

His cock twitched, and he realized now might not be the best time to be sporting a boner in the presence of professional company. So he turned the water in the sink to cold and threw it on his face. There would be a time to get a bit more intimate later. He needed to keep his composure and not eat you out with his agent in the room.

“Fine, but we aren’t done discussing business.”

“I know.”

You watched from the couch, noticing the annoyed look in Suguru’s eyes, and Manami stepped forward. “The aquarium called again; they want to know if you—”

“No.”

“Geto—”

“I said no.”

The aquarium? You blinked, sitting up and tilting your head. Did it have to do with his most recent painting of Riko?

Manami sighed, pulling her phone out. “They increased their offer for you to do the commission.”

Suguru was exceptionally talented. His paintings of dragons, creatures, and sceneries had gone viral in high school, earning him a full ride to art school. He was selling paintings, being commissioned, thriving, and getting paid to do what he loved. He, of course, had rules for commissions he took on from strangers and whatnot, but to deny an aquarium wasn’t like him.

“No,” Suguru repeated more firmly.

“You’d only be—”

A loud crash causes you and Manami to jump as Suguru throws his cup of paintbrushes into the sink. “Manami, no. That’s my final answer.” It was rare for Suguru to get pissed; he was usually well-tempered. So, for him to snap like that was out of character and meant he didn’t want to do whatever she had set up for him.

Manami sighed, grabbing her phone off the kitchen counter and shoving her cell phone inside. “I know it’s a reminder of the past, but it’s good money.” She slid expensive name-brand sunglasses on before turning on her heels with a strut in her step. “Think about it; I’m not sending the denial letter yet.” Without another word, she left the apartment, slamming the door shut behind her.

“Well,” you started, pouting as you hummed, “she is a peach.”

“Yeah.” Suguru sighed, rubbing the back of his neck before focusing his undivided attention on you. “So, uhm, what’s on the menus for dinner? I can help?” He grabbed the brown paper bags, beginning to unload them without another word.

You didn’t mean to pry about what was going on in his life. You knew him better than you knew himself at times. So, he would tell you if he wanted to talk about what was happening. The only time you got involved with what was happening during his work, you were utterly concerned about him and his well-being. So instead of saying anything, you just not at your head as the two of you made dinner together.

But the entire time we both stood in the kitchen silently in tune with each other, your mind kept drifting off to what exactly he was asked to paint. It seemed a little strange that he was asked to paint something at the aquarium, and his current canvas depicted Riko at the aquarium in Okinawa before the accident. That might be triggering his current nightmares, along with the fact that he has never truly forgiven himself for the accident that wasn’t his fault at all.

You knew he blamed himself for what happened. He wasn’t fast enough to push Riko out of the way when the car approached them. He saw her like a little sister. Watching the life fade from her eyes while he was fighting for his own life would traumatize anyone.

That sort of trauma never leaves. It lingers forever, which it had for your best friend. After the accident in her death, he started seeing a therapist every week. He’s on severe anxiety and depression medication, and for a while, his artwork took a very dark turn. He wouldn’t see anyone. He lost a ton of weight but always insisted that he was fine, just tired.

It wasn’t until he snapped when his nieces Nanako and Mimiko were in a car accident themselves that he lost all of his composure. he broke down having a mental episode. He nearly beat the ever-loving shit out of the man that caused the accident. The man had been remorseful, paying for everything from the car to the medical bills for the girls, but that wasn’t good enough for Suguru. He wanted to make him pay for what he had done. In a way, he saw it as the driver that caused Riko’s accident to pay for the pain the two of them went through.

Suguru was lucky enough to have you and your mutual friends by his side. All of you helped him get the help that he needed. You were there when he needed to talk or was having a rough day. That was one of the many reasons you both lived in the same apartment complex. He felt safe around you. Suguru knew he was with you. He was seen for who he was and for not being the man who couldn’t save his friend's life.

Despite it not being his fault at all.

And well, he had healed over the years,

Like anyone else living with that kind of trauma, he had his good days and his bad days from his sleeping over, insomnia, and how he reacted to Manami pushing him to do the mural at the aquarium. He was having a rough week.

After eating a delicious home-cooked meal and cleaning the kitchen, you sat on the couch, staring blankly at the television as Suguru gently ran his hand up and down your thigh. Some thriller played in the background; at this point, it was mindless background noise as your mind reeled, trying to think of what to say.

Your silence and uptight demeanor had Suguru’s dark eyes darting towards you every few seconds. There was something on your mind, something he knew you were contemplating saying. But much like you, he wasn’t one to pry. He knew in the last decade that you were upfront with him whenever you wanted to talk about an issue. But from the shyness in your touch to how you kept looking at him, he figured that maybe you wanted to make a move or ask him to teach you something new.

God, you were just so cute and shy. He wanted you to feel comfortable, to tell him what you wanted. But at the same time, he knew you. There was no way you would be upfront and ask home to do stuff with you or ask him to teach you more things. Until you were ready, he would have to continue making suggestions or ask how you felt and what you wanted to do.

Giving your thigh a gentle squeeze, your eyes dart in his direction. “Did you get all your rewrites done for Utahime? How did the meeting with her go?” Your face lit up.

“Oh, it went well; she loved what I had! She said my writing has improved.”

“That’s great! Do you get any time off? Like to relax that big brain of yours?”

With a pout, you collapsed into his side with a huff. “No, she wants the next chapter in two weeks. So I have to write it, have Nanami read it, edit it, and then I can send it to her.” The feeling of Suguru’s hand leaving your thigh left a trail of goosebumps in its wake as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

“Oh, well—do you need help with the next chapter? Or are there fewer spicy scenes in this one?”

You scoff, resting your chin on his upper arm. “That’s what you bookworms call sex scenes in books, right; spicy scenes?”

“Awee~ you do listen.”

“I listen when it’s you.”

You resist the urge to kiss him, opting for blushing instead. “Uhm, right! Yeah, so—“ you clear your throat, “it’s more plot than spice, but I’m not opposed to—ya’ know, adding spice.”

This was your way of telling him you wanted more without outwardly saying it. This was keeping your friendship safe. Besides, just because you didn’t use it in this chapter didn’t mean you wouldn’t use it in the future!

Suguru was slightly disappointed when you first said there were no spicy scenes in this current chapter. He felt like you did, not wanting to ruin your friendship. But to hear you say that you weren’t opposed to adding spice to your current chapter and all the worries and disappointment vanished. Suguru hummed, putting his hand behind his head and slowly licking his lips as he watched you sit up.

“Oh really now?”

“Mhmm~ I just don’t know what to add~ maybe you—” You slid your fingers down his ab’s, gently sliding them underneath the hem of his shirt. Your manicured nails gently ran over his happy chill, making Suguru twitch in anticipation. “Do you have a suggestion for what I could add to this chapter?”

“Mmm, well, you could always have Oaklynn go down on Ilsan, or you could have them dry hump or grind.”

You toyed with the waistband of his sweat, biting your lip as you felt his cock twitch, growing harder the more you rubbed the band. Your eyes were so focused on his pants that Suguru could hear the thundering of his heartbeat in his ears, his stomach filled as you looked up, meeting his gaze. He swallowed hard at the lustful need burning in your eyes. It’s hard to believe you had never been kissed a week ago, and now you were playing with his waistband to his sweats so suggestively?

What the fuck was this life?

“Sugu—can I touch you?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely.”

With his consent, you tugged his sweats down to rest over the top of his thighs, finding a tent in his boxers. There was something oddly satisfying about seeing the way your touch affected him. You knew his body was probably reacting naturally to an intimate touch. Part of you wish this might be more than a physical reaction deep down inside. But that was ludicrous because he was helping you out.

But maybe it could turn into something more you wouldn’t oppose.

“You’re already hard.” You said with a blush, your hand gently brushing over the hardening shaft in his boxers.

“What can I say? I have my beautiful best friend touching me.”

“Can this beautiful friend return the favor from the other day?”

Subaru chokes on his spit as you gently talk the band of his boxers down. If you want to, that shouldn’t be an issue. But you don’t have to return the favor! The cutest pout graces your lips as you reach out gently, grabbing his shaft and squeezing it. “Ooooh, fuck—”

“Oh! Sorry, did that hurt? I was trying to be a bit more confident!”

“N-No, it felt really good.”

“Oh! Okay, uhm—” You bite your lip in concentration, trying to mimic the moves. He had done when he first jerked off in front of you. “I want you to feel good.”

Subaru could not believe you were saying this. The same girl that hadn’t had an orgasm in her entire life less than a week ago. Was now stroking his cock with confidence in your eyes! There was no way he would ever extinguish that burning lust in your eyes. He would encourage you to do what you wanted if you were comfortable doing this because he would be lying to himself if he said that he hadn’t dreamed about something like this happening for as long as he could remember.

“The, by all means, feel free to keep going; it feels fucking great. Unless you need me to help tell you what to do?”

“No, I think I got this.” You pulled your hair back before situating yourself in between his legs, holding his shaft close to your mouth. “Just sit back and relax, okay?”

“Okay.”

Suguru watched with bated breath as you slowly leaned down. Your eyes were focused on his before your tongue darted out, kitten licking his tip. The man lost his shit right there. Suguru threw his head back, grunting as his eyes rolled back in pleasure. Fuck, it felt good mentally and physically. Finally, have you been doing the things he had imagined doing since he was a teenager? It was better than he could’ve imagined. God, he wasn’t going to last long.

His tip's salty yet sweet taste made you more eager to take him in your mouth. You swirl your tongue around relishing in the sounds that escaped your best friends mouth. One of his hands gripped the back of his sofa while the other grabbed his shirt, tugging it tight. He looked so hot when drowning in pleasure; seeing him like that gave you a confidence boost. You had never done this before, but you had read plenty of erotic novels, and you knew how to eat a popsicle. Putting both of them together gave you an idea of what to do.

While his chest heaved up and down, eyes shut tight, you took the whole head of his cock into your mouth you hummed. That action alone made Suguru’s hips buck up with a whine. His thrusting, pushing his cock against the back of your throat, made your eyes water as you gagged around him. Almost instantly, Suguru pulled back out, sitting up on his elbows to look down at you with concern etched into his features.

“Fuck Princes, I’m sorry! Are you sorry?”

“Mhmm!” You hummed around him, making his jaw clench at the vibrations around him.

“F-Fuck—haaah—fuuuuck.” His hand slowly slid down, tangling in your hair, not forcing you down his shaft further. He just held onto you. “Fuck—”

You can’t help but stare up at him. The way his jaw drops, his eyes narrowing as they darken with lust. Watching him slowly lose himself to the pleasure had you squirming. You could feel yourself getting wet as the heat began to pool between your legs, urging you to keep going, to take him further into his mouth. So you did; inhaling through your nose, you took more of your best friend into your mouth, gagging slightly as he slid further down into your throat.

Suguru was utterly losing himself in the sensation of being buried in your mouth. I was so wet and tight, and you knew what you were doing. Despite being a virgin and never having a boyfriend, Suguru was thoroughly impressed with how well you were taking him. Your lips around his thick fat cock, taking him down your throat, had him teetering on the edge of his release like he was a virgin.

He dropped his arm off the back of his couch, covering his eyes. What the hell was happening to him? Why was it he could barely compose himself when he was around you?

You always had that effect on him. “Fuuuck—shit—” His fingers gently scratched your scalp as you took him deeper, bobbing your head up and down, making his cock wet with your saliva and his pre-cum. “Fuck~ you’re doing such a good job, pretty girl~ so good.” A rosy blush dusted Suguru’s cheeks as his chest heaved faster, the muscles in his abdomen twitching from the pleasure.

Pulling off his cock, you slowly lick the underside of it right against the vein. He had grazed when he would touch himself. The most sensitive part of his cock. A hiss passed through his lips while his hands remained tangled in your hair. You grinned, pressing gentle kisses over him, nibbling on the soft skin before your kitten looked at the leaking slit.

“Could you maybe— fuck my throat?”

If you hadn’t been squeezing his bass when you were, Suguru was afraid that he might cum all over your hand at your request. “W-What seriously?” Your request was not entirely out of left field. It still left him in stunned silence.

“Yeah, Ilsan is a bit rough, so I wanted to see what it was like?” When in reality, you just wanted to see him lose all of the control he was barely grasping.

“I can do that, but if it gets too intense, just tap my thigh, okay?”

You opened your mouth to respond, only to have Suguru grab onto your hair with both his hands and force his cock into your mouth. “M-Mmmphm!” as he slid his shaft over your tongue and down the back of your throat with a gentle thrust.

“Fuck yeah, Princess~ god, you must feel so fucking good~” he pulled his shaft out of your mouth, just about to hit the back of your teeth before he slammed back into you, making you gag as he hit the back of your throat. “Nngh! Shit~ ooooh fuckin’ hell, that’s so good.”

“Mmm! Mmmhpm! Mmm!” You cried out each time his cock slid in and out of your mouth, making a mixture of drool and pre-cum leak out the sides of your mouth, dribbling down your chin and onto the couch beneath you.

“Oooh god—oooh fuck—haaaah!” A low moan sounds deep in your best friends chest. He lifted his head, watching his tears weld in your eyes, streaming down your cheeks, a trail of mascara left on your pretty, beautiful cheeks. “Fuck—Princess, I’m going to—I’m gonna cum. Wh-Where do you—nngh!”

Upon hearing his orgasm was approaching him, you grabbed both of his thick thighs, squeezing them as you moved in tandem with his hand. Your head up and down as fast as you could without making yourself gag more. Your eyes were transfixed solely on him as tears blurred your vision. Suguru knew where you wanted him to cum—and it was down your throat.

“F-Fuck—I-I’m cu-cumming! Cumming!”

Spurts of his hot cum that had covered your hand days before now filled your willing mouth. It was salty but also strangely sweet. That might be because Suguru was always eating healthy and making sure to eat plenty of vegetables and fruit. You’d have to thank him for that later; right now, all you could focus on was how good he tasted all over your tongue.

You swallow every drop, only pulling away when Suguru’s grip on your hair loosens and rests on your head, gently stroking your hair back. He was grinning drunkenly as he watched you lick your lips, smiling down at him as you fixed his sweats. Once you were done, he yanked you down to rest on his chest as he continued to caress you with his hands gently.

“Are you sure you’ve never done that?” The tone of his voice was stern. “Because holy shit, you sucked the soul out of my dick.”

You couldn’t help but giggle, snuggling into his chest as you rested your chin on his sternum, watching him closely. “Yep, I’ve never done that.” He shook his head, taking a deep breath as he did. “Did I do a good job?”

“I just said you sucked my soul out of my cock; yes, you did a phenomenal job, Princess.”

You smiled sweetly, losing yourself in his stare as he leaned down to kiss you softly. For the briefest moments, you stiffened, but you found yourself melting into his kiss with a happy hum. This was the perfect way to research for your book.

That was the sort of way things went about for two weeks. Grinding, making out, oral sex, and nothing between you changed, aside from the constant need to be around each other. You both had been close before, but now you were practically inseparable.

Weekends were spent together, meals were shared as you worked together, or Suguru sketched in your apartments while you wrote at his place. Not only did your work improve during this change, but you could also see a change in Suguru. He looked less tired, wasn’t having any more nightmares, and just seemed genuinely happy.

God, what a time to be together.

A time where you were closer and happier. Things felt so good, and the more time you spent together, the more you began to worry less about your book and focus more on your relationship. You created different scenarios for your characters to spice things up for your ‘research.’ And you knew deep down that Suguru knew it was a bullshit excuse to hook up. You could see it in the way his dark eyes would twinkle with mischief before he agreed to do whatever you requested with no questions asked.

“Fuck!” You gasped out as Suguru ground him against your clothed sex. His hands were hooked under your knees, spreading them as he sensually ground to the low R&B playing through the speakers. “Fuuuck~ that feels good.”

“Heh—yeah, it does.” His lips attached to your neck sucking and kissing on the sensitive skin. “You always feel good~ so good~.”

You ran your hands through his dark hair, holding his mouth against your neck. “Please don’t stop.” He grunted, eyebrows knitting together as you whimpered his name.

Suguru’s fingers dug into your thighs, bucking faster, not intending to stop at all. Instead, he moved faster, making you cry out, tugging on the dark strands as she sucked on, leaving several hickies against your skin. God, he could get used to this. Domestic shit, making dinner, but losing yourselves in grazing touches and kisses on cheeks. Leaving the bell peppers on the cutting board uncut and the steak sitting in the fridge. The corkscrew was still embedded in the unopened bottle of wine as you ground against each other, inching closer and closer to sweet release.

“Suguru~ hah—“ your hands grip his shoulders, holding them tight as he grinds hard, faster, “c-close!”

Somehow, Suguru pulled his lips off your neck, allowing him to press his forehead against yours. “Yeah~ gonna cum, Princess~? Gonna cream your panties~?” You lean in, bringing down his bottom lip as you rock against him, matching his movements and speed.

“Yes~ I-I’m so close!”

“Then do it~ cum for me~” he kisses you deeply as he grinds faster and faster until you both are crying out against moving lips, eyes shut tight as waves of your orgasm wash over you. “Oooh fuck~!”

“Fuuuck~ fuck!” You cry out, feeling your panties grow wetter and wetter. “Oh my god, Sugu~” you pant against his kiss-swollen lips while he lazily nods.

“Yeah, shit.” He grumbles with a moan.

“I need to borrow some boxers or sweats.”

“Yeah? You make a mess?”

He teases you with a peck to your cheek as he gently releases his hold on your legs, helping you off his counter. “Yeah, no thanks to you.”

“Oh please, you’re as much to blame for this as me.”

Suguru presses another kiss against your cheek. “I’ll take the blame, but I’ll start on dinner if you want to go raid my closet for sweats.” The glimmer in your eyes had your best friend gently flicking your forehead. “Just sweats, none of my hoodies, dork.” That statement had you pouting as Suguru gently slapped your ass, pushing you forward.

“No fair.”

“Life ain’t fair; your notebook is on the dresser if you need to write notes.”

You give him a thumbs up as you head into his room, ignoring the glittery notebook and heading straight for the closet instead. The more often nights like this occurred, the more you didn’t care about taking notes or jotting down ideas. Instead, you find yourself wanting to spend every waking moment with Suguru.

Notebook aside, you stripped out of your clothes, folding them up, before grabbing a pair of his baggy gray sweats as his phone buzzed on his nightstand. Glancing down at the screen, you resisted the urge to gag as you saw Manami’s name appear.

“Eeew, Sugu, the troll you call an agent, is texting you!” You grab his phone, unlocking it as you return to the kitchen. The sound of chopped vegetables echoed off the walls as Suguru looked up at you. “Want me to read you what she said?”

“Yeah, it’s probably about this client she found.”

Opening the chat, you pull out the barstools at his breakfast bar before him and clear your throat. “Geto, the new client, loved the sketch you submitted, and he would like to proceed with the next steps for the painting to be done. He has paid in advance.” Suguru did a little fist bump before he slid the peppers into a sizzling pan. “I also wanted to discuss the offer from the Amanai Foundation. They will pay for our room and board for the four months we’ll be in Okinawa finishing the aquarium piece.”

The spatula falls from his hand as he turns to you, staring into your wide eyes and pale complexion staring at the phone. You blankly stare at the message as big tears form in your eyes. Suguru watchI in horror as tears stream down your cheeks.

“What does she mean you two are going to Okinawa for four months together?”

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks

Tag List (TO BE ADDED AGE MUST BE IN BIO)

@lemonintrovert01 @spankmydepression @renttheannihilator @witchbybirth @missmuffinr @lialia3945 @theobsidianempress @aquasan29 @toffeebrat @aussiemeerkat @chimichangagirl @zoroisminty @spankmydepression @em-aizawa @gojosimp26 @moonlightazriel @maskedpacific

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scary-grace · 28 days ago

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Enough to Go By (Chapter 18) - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

Your best friend vanished on the same night his family was murdered, and even though the world forgot about him, you never did. When a chance encounter brings you back into contact with Shimura Tenko, you'll do anything to make sure you don't lose him again. Keep his secrets? Sure. Aid the League of Villains? Of course. Sacrifice everything? You would - but as the battle between the League of Villains and hero society unfolds, it becomes clear that everything is far more than you or anyone else imagined it would be. (cross-posted to Ao3)

Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19

Chapter 18

You store your backpack in the lockers provided for the purpose, then step into the line for the metal detector. You looked up what to expect when you visit somebody in jail, and so far everything checks out. It’s a long line. You wait your turn, step through the metal detector with no incident, and make your way up to the check-in desk. The officer behind it gives you a cursory glance. “Name?”

You give it, along with your birthdate, and she types it into her computer. A moment later her expression relaxes. She’s just seen that you’re quirkless, which means she can let you in without any special accommodations or extra guards. “Who are you here to see?”

“Aiba Manami,” you say. “My cousin.”

You haven’t been reading the news very much. You wouldn’t have known that Manami and the villain she works with had been arrested if Isuzu hadn’t texted you in all caps, asking if you’d seen the news and dropping the link when you said you hadn’t. And sure enough, there was Manami’s picture, right next to her villain crush’s at the top of the article – only they didn’t call her Aiba Manami. They called her La Brava, the name her villain gave her.

Isuzu was scandalized when you asked if anyone in the family had gone to visit her. You knew that meant no, so on your next three-day gap, you made plans to go see her. And here you are, hanging out in a visitation room, waiting for the guards to bring her in. You’re the only one in this particular room, and you know why. Manami’s quirk is useless without her villain nearby, and they’ve almost certainly separated them. And you don’t have a quirk, so you're useless overall. It’s safe. Enough.

When the guards bring Manami in, it’s clear that she’s been crying. A lot. Her eyes are red, and her permanent dark circles are augmented by bruises from rubbing them. She looks shocked to see you at first, but it’s not long before her eyes fill with tears again. “I didn’t think anyone would come. The family is so mad –”

“Fuck the family,” you say. Tomura and the others must be rubbing off on you. You never used to swear this much, as evidenced by the fact that Manami’s jaw drops and a startled, nervous laugh sneaks out. “I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner. I’ve been kind of keeping my head down.”

Manami’s gaze sharpens. “Why?”

“Um – no reason. Not really.” You need to be more careful. There’s nothing you’ve said so far that doesn’t sound suspicious. “Should we sit down?”

Manami sits down on the table, and you sit down in a chair. She’s so tiny that even the height boost from the table doesn’t put her at eye level with you. “How are you doing?” you ask, before she can ask you anything. “I don’t know all of what happened, obviously, but I – um –”

“Gentle fought Midoriya, and he lost.” Manami sniffles, while you try to conceal your shock. Midoriya Izuku really gets around. “My love wasn’t strong enough.”

“I bet that’s not it,” you say at once. “That kid’s just berserk. Nobody who runs into him gets away clean.”

Manami picks her head up out of her hands to give you a weird look. You look back, trying not to panic. Your brain-dead civilian act won’t work on Manami – she’s known you your whole life, and she knows the kind of tricks you play to fly under the radar. Then her gaze slides away from yours, and her eyes fill with tears again. “If I had just loved him more –”

“Did he say that? Your – uh, Gentle?” If he did, you and he are going to have words at some point. You might not be very intimidating, but your friends are terrifying, and you’ve picked up a few tricks from them.

“No.” Manami wipes her eyes again. “Of course not. Gentle loves me. He would never. Have you – have you seen him? I don’t even know where he’s being held.”

You shake your head. “I can find out if you want.”

“Oh, that would be wonderful! I haven’t seen him in so long!” Manami’s expression transforms. You really hope that’s not what you look like when you think about Tenko. “You should meet him. He’s the most handsome man in the world, and he’s so refined and elegant – and honorable – and tall! Tall boys always thought I was too short, but he can carry me around all day if he wants to.”

You absorb that image with some difficulty. “Nobody in here understands,” Manami continues. “They say I’m too nice to have ended up a villain, but they’re only saying that now that it’s too late. Everyone was cruel to me before. None of them cared. Except him.”

She looks back at you, her eyes bright. “Our charges aren’t that bad. They can’t keep us here forever. I know we’ll be together again once we’re out.”

You envy her confidence, and the fact that she’s right. If Tenko gets captured, he’s never getting out of prison. The only way you’ll be together is if he wins. “I’ll find out where Gentle is,” you promise, and Manami smiles. It shouldn’t be hard to do. Kazuo could probably find out without even touching his quirk. “I’d like to meet him sometime. I’m glad there’s somebody who makes you this happy.”

“Really?” Manami looks surprised. “My mom called me and yelled at me about him. And my dad. Everybody.”

“Fuck them,” you say patiently. The sooner Manami picks up that attitude about your whole stupid family, the better. “If he treats you well and makes you happy, that’s what I care about. Even if he likes tea a little too much.”

“Ugh, that’s how we got caught!” Manami flops backwards onto the table. “Midoriya Izuku ran into us and Gentle had to say something about him ruining the aftertaste of the special tea – and then Midoriya knew about the tea – so then Gentle had to talk to him about it –”

This sounds like a train wreck. “I didn’t know tea could do that.”

“Me. Either.” Manami sighs. “He was so excited that somebody else might like the weird stuff he likes. I can’t be mad at him for loving stuff. Even if he was dumb about it.”

She glances at you. “What would you do if your boyfriend was doing something dumb?”

“Drag him out of there.” That’s basically what you did that night in the convenience store, and you and Tenko weren’t even dating. “But I’m taller than you. It works a little better.”

“I knew it!” Manami crows, and you jump. “I knew you had a boyfriend! You didn’t even deny it.”

Manami’s sneaky. You forgot about that. “I was being hypothetical.”

“No you weren’t. You aren’t very good at makeup,” Manami says. You freeze. “Maybe you could fool a boy, but any girl could see that hickey from space.”

You clap your hand over the side of your neck, but it’s already way too late, and Manami laughs so hard she starts crying again. Maybe you’re bad at makeup, but you’re going to blame this one on Tenko – Tenko, who missed being crushed to death by inches seven times during the last fight cycle, and was so strung out on adrenaline that you could barely get him to focus long enough to try to fuck him to sleep. If he couldn’t focus on that, there was no way he could focus on not being loud, and he bit down hard on you to muffle himself so the others wouldn’t figure out what was going on.

There wasn’t time for you to grab a condom, so your first errand of the next fight cycle was the morning-after pill, followed by drugstore-brand makeup to cover up the bite mark. Apparently you did a bad job. A really bad job. “How do I fix it?”

“Tell me about the boy first.” Manami wipes her eyes. “Do you have a picture?”

You do. It’s old, and it’s in a locket around your neck, and your hand twitches upwards to it before you can stop yourself. Manami’s eyes track the motion. “Let me see.”

You hesitate. There’s a chance that Manami will be able to recognize Tenko – she went to your fifth and sixth birthday parties, and he was at both of them – but even if she recognizes him as a kid, she probably won’t be able to match his face to Tomura’s as an adult. You unclasp the locket and hand it over. “This is him as a kid. I don’t have a recent one.”

“Oh, he’s cute.” Manami tilts her head, studying the photo – and then her eyes widen. Her voice goes whisper-quiet, so much that you have to lean in to hear. “He’s alive?”

You nod. “He’s who I think he is,” Manami says, and you nod again. Of course she guessed. She’s a villain, and you know for a fact that villains keep track of each other’s press clippings. You should have thought of that, but you didn’t. Maybe you wanted her to know. “How?”

“They took him.” You’re not sure how else to phrase it subtly. Manami closes the locket and hands it back to you. Her hand is shaky. Yours is steady. “I’m lucky I found him again.”

“Lucky?” Manami shakes her head. “No.”

“What do you mean, no? Look at your boyfriend.”

“My boyfriend is a gentleman thief. He’s refined and elegant and he wants to write his name into history by making things better.” Manami’s proud of him, proud in a way you can’t be proud of Tenko, and your stomach twists with guilt. “Yours did – that.”

She’s pointing at the bite mark on your neck, the one she was teasing you over a few minutes ago. Now it’s something evil, just because of who left it there. “I could be into that,” you say, and she gives you a frustrated look. “It’s not any different than you.”

“It is. Look at me.” Manami gestures to herself, her eyes brightening with tears again. “Me and Gentle don’t hurt anyone. Gentle wants to help people and show them another way. What does your boyfriend want?”

To tear the world down, so something better can be built by people who know what needs to be fixed – but he has to tear it down first, and that will come with casualties. Lots of them. You’re slow to answer, trying to package it in a way that doesn’t sound insane and terrifying, and Manami takes your hesitation for what it is. “You don’t have to do this,” she says. “You’re not like I was. You have friends. You have a real job you like, and you’re normal. I mean, quirkless, but normal.”

Not quirkless, but that doesn’t matter. You stare her down, daring her to say what she actually means. To her credit, she does. “You don’t have a reason to do this,” Manami says, and she talks right over you when you protest that you do. “That means you have a choice. It doesn’t have to be him.

“I don’t have a choice,” you say. If she’d just let you talk, you could have explained, but you don’t need that many words to do it. “I –”

You’re trying to say you love him. If you can’t say you love him – to your cousin, who knows all about love that ruins you – who can you say it to? You try again. “I don’t have a choice. I – I lo – I do. I lo –”

Manami’s hand clamps down over your mouth. “Don’t,” she orders. “You have to save it.”

“What?” Your voice is muffled. “I can’t say it. I’m trying. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Why can’t I say –”

“You can. You have to save it for when it counts.” The door to the visitation room opens, and over Manami’s shoulder, you see a guard step through. Two guards. No, three. “You’ll find Gentle, won’t you? You promised –”

“I’ll find him,” you say. You grasp Manami’s hand, hold it tight. “And I’ll be back to visit you. I promise.”

“Please think about what I said,” Manami says. She looks worried – worried, and sad, and even when the guards come to collect her, she hesitates long enough to try one more time. “It’s not too late. You don’t have to be like me.”

You thought you and Manami would be on the same page about things, since you’re both in love with villains, but apparently not. Apparently Manami sees the League as much worse than Gentle Criminal, just like the League sees Overhaul as worse than they are – and she’s worried about you. Yoshimi’s worried about you, according to Mitsuko and Ryuhei, but Manami’s worry worries you more. And then there was what she said while you were stuttering and panicking around the admission that you love someone you’ve loved in one way and another for almost your entire life. Save it for when it counts. What does that mean?

“Wait.” A guard stops you as you try to walk out through the metal detector and you nearly jump out of your skin. “Take that off.”

He’s pointing at your locket, and your hand flies up to cover it. “Yeah, that,” the guard says. “Take it off before you walk through.”

“It was fine before,” you say. Your nerves are jangling. “Why do I have to take it off now?”

“The prisoner touched it.”

“So you think her quirk works on a locket?” You can’t be combative right now. You can’t make waves – but you’re angry with yourself, angry with Manami, and you don’t want to hide it. “She touched my hand, too. Are you going to make me take that off?”

“Take it off or I’ll detain you,” the officer says. If you’re detained, they’ll search your backpack, and if it comes down to them looking at a baby photo of Tenko or checking out the gun in your backpack, you know which one you prefer. You take off the locket and drop it into the guard’s palm. “Thanks for your cooperation.”

You stand there, seething, as he pries open the locket and studies the photo inside. It occurs to you that the guards were watching you and Manami, that they saw her reaction when she opened it. Of course they’d want to take a look. But the guard never met Tenko, doesn’t know what to look for, and after a moment, he hands the locket back. “Was that so hard?”

“No,” you admit. You look down, bite your lip, the picture of quirkless contrition. “Sorry. It just means a lot to me.”

“Of course,” the guard says magnanimously. They’re all magnanimous once somebody gives in. “Go on.”

You walk through the metal detector again, retrieve your backpack and your phone, and step out of the jail. It’s a sunny day, but it’s cold, and you wish you’d brought a heavier coat. Or a scarf. It’s not hard to imagine that the bite mark is beaming like a searchlight from your neck, letting everybody know just how bad your boyfriend is at keeping quiet. You alter your priorities. You’ll get a scarf first. The firing range will still be there after you’ve covered up.

This far into the fight against Gigantomachia, and your errands during each fight cycle have taken on a new pattern. Food and sleep first – as guilty as you feel for eating hot food and sleeping in a bed when Tenko can’t, you’d feel guiltier if you made a mistake because you were too hungry and sleep-deprived to keep a clear head. Once you’ve gotten that out of the way, you do a few things to maintain the ruse that you’re on a leave of absence from work, then check up on the others.

Usually that means corralling Toga, or finding Compress before he can fence whatever he’s stolen. He’s recognizable enough that it’s safer for you to fence it yourself. You worry less about Spinner. Spinner tends to stick close. If he’s not shadowing Tomura or passed out and snoring, he’s usually following you. Once you’ve checked up on them, made sure they’re eating and sleeping in addition to whatever else, you run an errand of your own. You’ve got a gun now. You need to make sure you can use it.

You go to at least one firing range every fight cycle, sometimes more. You’ve learned how to tense yourself against the recoil from a shot, how to load and reload quickly, how to clean the gun, disassemble it, and fix any problems with it before they get work. The main thing, the most important thing, is shot selection and accuracy. Your accuracy is decent – not quite as decent as it is in Call of Duty, but above average. It got a lot better once you stopped trying to aim for the head.

You don’t need to aim for the head. You don’t want to kill somebody. What you need to do is slow them down long enough for you or your friends to get away, and that means hitting somewhere in the center mass. The fact that gunshots to the center mass can kill somebody just as easily as shots to the head is something you try not to think about. You’ve got a lot of practice not thinking about stuff by now. Enough that you can almost forget about the casualties that will result from tearing everything down, and forget basically everything Manami said except her stories about her villain boyfriend and your twin promises to visit her again and find out where he is.

You text Kazuo to ask if he knows where Gentle Criminal is being held, telling him specifically not to use his quirk to find out, and put your phone away. Then you step into your booth at the firing range.

You’re good enough at it now – barely – that you can practice firing one-handed, firing from positions other than square-on in front of your target. You’re also practicing using the gun for something other than shooting people. One of the guys at the firing range in Nagoya, an ex-cop who took a shine to you in a way that made you deeply uncomfortable, told you that a gun’s not helpful at a distance of less than twenty feet. Somebody with a knife can close that distance faster than you can fire. Dodging a knife strike and clocking somebody in the side of the head is a better bet, so today you’re practicing that, too. You’re as useless with a latent quirk as you were without one, so finding another way to be useful in a fight is your top priority. A stupid latent quirk is the same thing as no quirk at all.

But even as you practice firing one-handed, firing from a crouched position, firing from the floor, you can’t shake off what Manami said. Her hand covering your mouth, her order to save it for when it counts. Save what? The I love you? Sure – you should probably tell Tenko before you tell anybody else, as soon as you figure out how to get the words out of your mouth. What was weird was how intense Manami was about it, but Manami’s always been intense about love. Intense enough to cover your mouth about it? Maybe. Maybe she just wanted you to shut up about how much you love Shigaraki Tomura, aspiring of the supervillains, while you’re in the visiting room at a jail. She’s been at this longer than you have. She’s better at it.

She’s the second person to point out that Tenko’s hurt you, and she and Mitsuko had the same reaction. You’d be worried about it if you didn’t know the whole story, but you can’t explain that your boyfriend bit you because he’s loud in bed or that he hates letting even you see him cry. You also can’t explain that you don’t hate the bitemark, that you don’t want people to see it but aren’t mad that it’s there. You definitely can’t explain that you’re trying to build a new world, and you’re terrified of the thought that he won’t be in it with you.

And there’s no possible way to explain that you’ve weighed the world against the idea of losing Tenko again and decided that keeping him was more important. Not without sounding insane and selfish and awful. Not without sounding like a villain.

You stay at the firing range, drilling over and over again until the time you’ve paid for runs out, and then you check your timer. Four hours before the end of the next fight cycle, and the new base camp is two and a half hours away. That’s plenty of time for you to get there before Tenko does.

Or at least that’s what you think. There’s a disruption in the train service, courtesy of some villain, somewhere, and you wait as ten minutes, forty-five minutes, an hour and a half tick by. There’s no way you’re going to make it there by the end of the fight cycle, and you might miss the break entirely. You have to be there. You need to see Tenko and make sure he eats and sleeps, so that the next fight cycle doesn’t end with him being killed. This far in, he’s barely alive. You don’t know how he’s keeping it together. You don’t know how anyone is.

Another twenty minutes slip past with agonizing slowness. You’re getting desperate. If Kurogiri was here, you’d have options, but he was captured months ago, and you don’t know anyone else who has a –

Yes, you do. You dig the earpiece the doctor gave you out of your backpack and activate it, jamming it into your ear. The doctor’s already on the other end of the line, and that strikes you as weird, but you don’t have a chance to think about it any more before he speaks. “I was just about to reach out to you, Saintess. There’s been a development.”

Your blood turns to ice. Tenko can’t be dead. He’d have told you first if Tenko was dead. If Tenko was dead, you’d know. “What is it?”

“Shigaraki Tomura has devised a plan to destroy both of his enemies at once – the Metal Liberation Army, which has challenged him to a battle, and Gigantomachia, whom he has yet to defeat.” The doctor doesn’t explain who the MLA is, but he doesn’t need to. You’re quirkless. You know all about the people who want to make society’s might-makes-right thing explicit instead of poorly concealed. “I’ve just transported he and the others to the outskirts of the battlefield. He gave me explicit instructions to keep you away from the fight.”

“No,” you say at once. “I’m the medic. They need me. I have to be there.”

“My thoughts exactly,” the doctor says. Oh. “I believe you could be very useful indeed. Stand by for transport.”

You hold still. The doctor heaves a dramatic sigh. “That means get out of sight, dear.”

You’re an idiot. You duck into the bathroom at the train station and lean back against the door, blocking anyone from coming in. “I’m out of sight.”

“Excellent,” the doctor says. A moment later, your mouth fills with black sludge.

When you get to the edge of the city that must be the battleground, the fight’s already in full swing. You can tell by the clouds of dust that are rising, the flashes of blue flame appearing and vanishing just as quickly. Tomura must have called for Dabi. Dabi, but not you. Dabi can fight.

“Allow me to provide the lay of the land,” the doctor says. “The Meta Liberation Army has a hundred thousand members in this city alone. Shigaraki’s objective is to hold them off, without drastically reducing their numbers, long enough for Gigantomachia to awaken and pursue him here – where he will theoretically clash with the MLA and incur enough damage to allow Shigaraki to defeat him.”

It’s brilliant. Tomura’s plans these days usually are. But when you check your phone for the time, your heart sinks. “They’ve still got an hour left. That’s too long.”

“That’s where you come in, my dear. The MLA left you out of their calculations entirely due to your perceived quirklessness.” The doctor sounds smug as all hell. “I’ll direct you where you’re needed. With that gun of yours, the amount of ammunition you’re carrying, and the practice you’ve been putting in, you should be quite effective in thinning the MLA’s ranks – assuming, of course, that you’re willing to get your hands dirty.”

You made that decision a while ago. You put on your veil and crown. It’ll complicate your vision, but you couldn’t practice with it on. “I’ll do what needs to be done to keep Tomura safe.”

“Let’s hope he proves worthy of your devotion. Descend into the city. Avoid the main avenues and work your way towards the tower in the center.

It’s a distance down to the city, and the doctor put you on a rocky slope. There’s probably a defined path down, but you don’t want to waste time looking for it, and you roll and slide and tumble your way down to level ground, the doctor tsking in your ear the entire time. You ignore him and choose a deserted side street, working your way towards the chaos in the center of the city. The doctor gives you periodic updates. “Toga has neutralized her opponents, but she was injured – no, no, my dear, your objective is Shigaraki.”

“I’m the medic. If Toga is hurt –”

“Twice is on his way to assist her, and her injuries aren’t immediately life-threatening.” The doctor’s voice takes on a bite of impatience. “You’ll be able to aid her later, assuming Shigaraki’s plan succeeds – which it may not do if you waste time here.”

Helping Toga isn’t wasting time. But there’s a bigger picture here, and you know it. You pick up the pace again, jogging through the streets, until the doctor tells you to stop. “Dabi and Compress are near. Dabi’s opponent could stand to be distracted. Avoid being seen.”

So you can’t help Toga, but you can help Dabi? The doctor’s priorities are pissing you off. You creep closer, pivoting down a small alley and climbing into a building, peering out a broken window for a better view. There’s Dabi, and Compress. And there’s his opponent, some guy with white hair in a blue coat, who’s doing his best to crush Dabi and Compress under a hail of ice.

Strategy isn’t your strongest suit, but this one is easy. Dabi is the League’s only ranged combatant – other than you, and you barely count. If Dabi loses this fight and switches to chasing Tomura, it’s over. Ice Guy is moving around a lot. You take out your gun, make sure it’s loaded, make sure there’s a round in the chamber. You can’t stay here long. You have to get out fast, so you give yourself three shots to get the job done. You peer up over the window frame, steady yourself, flip off the safety, and hook your finger around the trigger. Ice Guy is holding still for once, bantering about something with Dabi. Perfect.

You fire all three shots in a tight burst, but you aren’t solid at this distance, or this angle. You miss with all three, and you cringe in embarrassment. Ice Guy falters for a second, looking around wildly for the source of the gunfire. You drop to the floor and belly-crawl out of sight, gritting your teeth at the amused note in the doctor’s voice. “Obviously it would have been better if you’d hit him, but he’s unsettled enough to hand Dabi a momentary advantage. All Dabi must do is make use of it.”

You make your way into the building’s back lot, then through a gate onto a quieter street. This one is lined with piles of dust. Big piles of dust, and two sets of footprints through them. “Tomura was here. And Spinner?”

“Yes, although Spinner’s unable to compensate for Shigaraki’s near-incapacitation.” The doctor gives you a new direction to run in and keeps talking. “I admire your efforts to keep him healthy, but they’re ultimately futile. The exhaustion will kill him sooner rather than later.”

“Later,” you correct. He can die of exhaustion when you’re both ninety. “Where are they?”

“Continue straight, then turn left at the next major intersection.” There’s an edge in the doctor’s voice now. “If I were you, I’d hurry.”

You pick up the pace, furious with yourself for not being able to move faster. Training with a weapon clearly wasn’t enough – on your days off, you should have been improving your physical fitness, enough that scrambling from house to house as cover on a street parallel to the one Tomura and Spinner are traveling on would be nothing to you. You turn left at the next intersection and you’re bolting down the street when the doctor orders you to hide, his voice loud and sharp. You dive into the shelter of the nearest fenced yard just in time to see a horde of figures dressed in black and white stampede down the street Tomura and Spinner are apparently on. It looks like Twice. Twice, but hundreds of him.

You thought his quirk would only let him make two copies, and he never copies himself. What happened? “It appears his quirk has awakened,” the doctor says, and you realize you’ve spoken aloud. “If only the same thing would happen to you.”

“If I could do that, I’d know.” You poke your head up over the fence to see if it’s clear, and one of the Twice clones spots you. Shit. You duck down out of sight, but you know he’s coming. “What should I do?”

You hate yourself for asking, and the doctor doesn’t answer. At least not in a way that’s helpful. “Your objective is to aid Shigaraki. Proceed with that in mind.”

Before you can even begin to parse that, the Twice clone reaches over the fence and grabs your arm, pulling you upright. “Hey, you’re not supposed to be here! Shigaraki said to keep you away!”

“I’m supposed to be here. I’m the medic.” You struggle to pull your arm free, but he’s stronger than you. “Let go. I have to help him –”

“We’re helping him.” The clone’s chest puffs with pride. “Don’t worry, sister. Your boyfriend’s in good hands!”

You need to get away from Twice. You need to get away from him right now. What’s the chance that this is the real Twice? Next to none – you can’t imagine the real Twice leaving Toga’s side if she’s hurt. With that in mind, what you’re about to do should have no consequences whatsoever. “I’m sorry,” you say to the clone, and you strike him so hard in the side of the head with the barrel of your gun that he collapses instantly into sludge.

“Wonderful. It seems you weren’t lying – your devotion to Shigaraki does extend to getting your hands dirty.” The doctor sounds pleased. You don’t feel like anything at all. “Continue your pursuit course. Shigaraki has pulled ahead of Spinner, but you shouldn’t have trouble catching him.”

You decide against using the main streets, opting instead to hop fences and cut through backyards and alleyways. You don’t want to have to kill any more Twice clones. You don’t have the greatest view, but you’re sure the doctor will tell you if you need to speed up. Tomura might be in the midst of a battle, high on adrenaline, but you’ve eaten and slept in the last three days, so you must have the advantage in speed. You’ll catch him soon. You have to.

You hear the screech of tires, followed by the sound of hundreds of feet on the road – and then a voice, booming out through a megaphone. The voice that responds is quiet and thin in comparison, but you recognize it. It’s Spinner’s voice. Is Tomura with him? No, the doctor would have told you to change course, and he’s said nothing of the kind. Out of everyone in the League, Spinner’s the most loyal to Tomura, second only to you. He wouldn’t leave Tomura for anything. You break the back window of one of the houses, climb in, and pick your way through until you’re peering through the front window. There are too many people in the way. You head for the stairs.

Once you’ve got the elevation, it’s obvious – Spinner’s trapped in the middle of an angry mob. There’s a news van blocking his way, and a guy standing on top of it. He’s calling Spinner by what must be Spinner’s real name and saying the kind of things that make you see red. Spinner shouts back, owning it – owning weakness, owning a lack of vision, owning unimportance except as a follower to better people. That’s not all he is. You don’t let anybody talk to your friends like that, your friends included.

You need to do something. “No,” the doctor hisses in your ear. “Pursue Shigaraki. Leave him.”

“No,” you say. The doctor makes a scathing, offended sound into the phone. “That’s not who I am.”

You don’t have enough bullets in your gun or your backpack to take out the entire crowd, but you can handle the guy in charge, and the resulting chaos might be enough of a distraction that you can yank Spinner out unnoticed. Forget this only-three-shots nonsense – you extract another clip from your backpack and set it down beside you, at the ready once you empty this one. You break the window you’ve been peering through, trusting that the mob’s own noise will cover the sound, and screw the silencer onto the end of your gun. You haven’t practiced with it much, or at all, so you don’t know how it’ll disrupt your shot, but between the gun and the clip you have nine shots to get the job done. At least one of them will have to hit.

The man on top of the van has just donned a mask. Probably a support item rather than a shield, but you were never aiming for his head. Your first shot strikes him in the shoulder. He staggers, turning halfway just in time for you to empty the clip, sending two bullets tearing laterally through his torso. You eject the empty clip and load the next, and in the time that takes, your target collapses. His blood is pooling on top of the van, running down the sides. He’s not moving. Unless somebody in the crowd has a serious healing quirk, he’s dead.

You turn away from the window and race back down the stairs, keeping the gun hidden at your side. Most of the mob’s forgotten Spinner in their efforts to help the leader, and Spinner’s crawled through them, heading towards you. He must have guessed who was shooting. He’s the only one in the League who knows about the gun.

You race out of the house to help him up, drag him out of sight. One person notices the two of you, and you shoot them without thinking twice. Not fatally. It won’t be fatal if they get some help soon.

Spinner needs help right now. He’s bleeding, and while you can see the puncture wounds in his shirt, you can’t tell how deep they are. “You’re wasting time,” the doctor hisses in your ear.

You ignore him, but Spinner unknowingly echoes him a moment later. “Don’t worry about me,” he says, grimacing in pain. “Get to Shigaraki. He needs you.”

“I’ll patch you up and we can both go.”

“No, you need to –”

There’s a colossal explosion from somewhere in the distance. At least, you think it’s an explosion. You don’t know what else to call it, except that it’s the loudest sound you’ve ever heard, and it makes the ground rattle beneath your feet. You and Spinner both freeze. “What was that?”

“Change of plans, my dear. Get as far from here as possible.” The doctor’s voice is in your ear again – and in Spinner’s, based on the way Spinner startled. “Shigaraki has engaged the leader of the Liberation Army, and his chances won’t be improved if he’s distracted by your presence.”

“What if I just shoot him?” you ask. Spinner stares at you. “The leader of the Liberation Army. Could I get a clear shot?”

“He’s the size of a house,” the doctor says, and your stomach clenches tight with fear. “You could hit him from the moon if your weapon had the range. But you don’t, and he’ll see you coming, so –”

“He wouldn’t care about me. You said it yourself. I’m quirkless, so I don’t factor in.” You help Spinner straighten up. “I’m Tomura’s sidekick. I can’t let him fight alone.”

“You can if doing it will get you flattened.” Spinner stumbles as the ground shakes again. “Give me the gun. I can do it.”

“You won’t be able to get clear in time.” Get clear in time for what? At the kind of range you’ll need to be effective with a gun this small, you won’t be able to get clear, either. The ground rattles again. “I have to do this.”

“Yes, I believe you must.” The doctor’s voice is crisp and abrupt, almost as abrupt as his change of tune. “I’m quite impressed with Shigaraki’s fortitude. I’ll be sending another gift to assist him in this fight, in addition to you. Spinner, make for the outskirts. I’ll direct you to Toga and Twice. Saintess, head for the center. Stay out of sight as long as you can.”

There’s no time for you to patch Spinner up. The two of you trade a glance and a nod, and then you split up. Spinner books it in the opposite direction of the disaster that’s unfolding at the center of the city, and you run towards it.

What you see there in the midst of the destruction horrifies you. You’ve only caught glimpses of Tomura’s battles with Gigantomachia, but you’ve heard stories from the others, and in spite of the fact that the giant he’s fighting this time is smaller, you can tell from a single glance that his odds are worse. He was tired going into this fight, and he’s already injured beyond what you or anyone else could fix. And unlike Gigantomachia, this giant can talk.

He wants to know what Tomura’s going to do with the world, if he survives. “Is the pursuit of destruction your only worth as a human? The world you wish to create will be as empty as you are.”

“It’s not my world.” Tomura’s face is smeared with blood. One of his legs is twisted at a terrible angle, broken so badly you can’t believe it’s bearing his weight. His left hand is mangled, missing two fingers at least. He can’t fight like this. How could he? “It’s for them. They can choose what’s in it.”

It’s for him, too. If he gives you the chance to build a new world, you’re going to make it worth living in. “They can choose?” The giant scoffs. “Your pack of outcasts and delinquents don’t have that kind of vision. None of you can see beyond your own petty desires and think of the greater good!”

“I don’t need to see it.” Tomura stumbles sideways to avoid a strike, then loses his footing and falls. “She can.”

He’s talking about you. You get set, raise the gun, and fire.

The giant is too bulky for your bullets to make much of an impact. You’d have to hit him in the eyes or the mouth, and you’d have to get closer for that. He reacts to the shot like you’d react to a mosquito bite, mere annoyance and temporary distraction, and Tomura struggles back to his feet long enough to exploit the opening. For a split second you’re drawn back to the games the two of you played as children – facing some terrible villain, distracting them so Tenko could land a decisive blow. The same game as always. Now it’s real.

Even with the giant distracted, Tomura’s injuries are slowing him down. It’s not just that he’s limping. You come closer, unable to stop yourself, and you see how badly he’s favoring his other side. He’s only got one hand, his quirk at half the strength it used to be, and even as your empty the remainder of your clip into the giant’s torso, load another, and fire again, you know you can’t do enough to make this fight one Tomura can win. If you’ve really got a quirk, if there’s something you can do, now’s the time.

But there’s nothing. Why would there be anything? If you had anything more you could do, you’d do it. if running into the middle of things and getting killed to save him would mean he’d win, you’d do it in a heartbeat.

You wouldn’t hesitate, but you won’t get the chance to choose. The giant’s spotted you. He swats Tomura aside with one hand and turns his attention to you. “So you came to join us after all,” he says. You hold your ground. If he comes close enough, you’ll have a clear shot at his eyes. “It’s a shame to say so, Saintess, but there’s no place for your kind in our future. I’ll put you out of your misery.”

You shoot him. It glances off his cheek, and his footsteps rattle the ground, jarring your next shot into thin air. “You’re only resisting the inevitable,” he continues. “Is this truly a world you want to live in? A world where meta abilities are used freely, where your kind are left to occupy the lowest rung of society while the rest of us wait for evolution to wipe you out?”

You’ve heard people with quirks say some truly out-of-touch things, but that might be the worst. You open your mouth for a retort, but instead of a snappy comeback or heartfelt appeal to humanity, laughter pours out. You can’t make it stop, and the giant stares at you, puzzled. Behind him, you see Tomura rising from the dirt, all his weight on his knees and his mangled hand. It only takes a split second’s thought to understand why he’s putting pressure on his injured hand instead of the good one, but it’ll all be for nothing if you can’t give him time. You need the giant to keep looking at you.

He hasn’t looked away. Your semi-hysterical cackling is keeping all his attention. “Is something funny?”

“This world you want,” you start. You have to pause to suck down air, aware that he’s coming closer to you, aware that you can’t let him look back at Tomura. “It’s the same world we have right now. I’ve lived in your perfect world my whole life.”

Tomura steadies himself. You see him steady his right arm with what remains of his left hand before the giant’s bulk fills your vision. You look up at him, holding his gaze even as he raises his hand to crush you to a bloody paste on the ground, and you smile, even though your veil hides your face. “It’s our world now.”

The giant’s fist comes down towards you. You hear a distant scream. A split second later, the ground falls out from beneath you.

You can’t decide if you’re dead or not. You’re falling through a haze of dust and ash, listening to screams that fall abruptly silent, flinching as buildings crack and crumble around you. Above it all there’s a sound you’ve never heard before – half howl of rage, half insane laughter, all rough and painful, as though it’s tearing apart the throat it’s issuing from. Tenko’s still alive. You can’t die yet. You have to get to him.

Maybe your quirk is some kind of willpower, because even though the impact with the ground is agonizing, you’re on your feet within seconds of the hit. You find yourself standing on the edge of a massive crater, one that’s swallowed half the city. You’re not the only one at its edge. You see Spinner, Dabi, Compress, Twice – about a billion clones of Twice, holding as many clones of Toga, and Giran off to one side with a clumsy bandage wrapped around his hand. The League of Villains made it through.

A few members of the Meta Liberation Army made it through, too. They’re staring down into the crater, sheer horror on their faces, as they look at what’s left of their leader.

He amputated his legs to avoid getting caught in the wave of Decay Tomura unleashed, and the part of you that’s a nurse and not a murderer notes that those wounds will need to be cauterized soon if he wants to avoid bleeding out. But the leader of the Meta Liberation army is a footnote, an afterthought. Tomura’s down there, too. Tomura’s on his feet. His hair’s gone pure white, and his right arm’s been torn to shreds.

He and the Liberation Army’s leader are talking. You can’t hear what they’re saying, at least not at first. Not until the leader announces his unconditional surrender and orders his soldiers to lay down their arms – or rather, to turn them over to Shigaraki Tomura, the new leader of the Meta Liberation Army. Tomura’s won, and it’s not just the MLA who’s submitted to him. When you glance at the far side of the crater, you see Gigantomachia crouched there, calm and awaiting orders. It’s a mark of just how focused you are on Tomura that you didn’t even notice.

The enemy leader’s still talking, but Tomura’s not paying attention. He’s looking up, around the edges of the crater, his eyes lingering on each member of the League. Twice and Giran to Twice and Toga, Dabi to Compress to Spinner, and finally to you. You hold his gaze, unsure of whether to take down your veil and smile, not certain if he needs reassurance that you’re okay or if he’s just making sure you’re alive. Then his face goes pale beneath the mask of blood. You see his eyes roll up in his head, and before you can make a move to help him, he pitches sideways, unconscious.

The enemy leader is the one who catches him, and something snaps in your head. You hop the edge of the crater and skid down the slope, racing towards them. You’re not the only one on the move – Spinner and about fifty Twice clones are doing the same thing, and the enemy leader is shouting for help. Somebody with a healing quirk, maybe. Or transport to a hospital. You can’t think. All you can think about is getting Tomura away from the person who was trying to kill him five minutes ago. A person whose soldiers will kill you all without him to lead them.

You pry Tomura out of his grip, slide your backpack off your shoulders, and start giving orders. “Twice, take the sterile pads and start packing them onto his legs.”

“Whose?”

You gesture one-handed at the giant, who’s not so giant anymore. “Re-Destro,” he introduces himself.

“Yeah, him.” Once the Twice clones are in motion, you unwrap the scarf you bought earlier today and shove it into Spinner’s hands. “Use that as a tourniquet for one of his legs. Find something else for the other one.”

Spinner doesn’t question it. You wonder if he’s made the same calculation as you have, figured out that your survival is tied to Re-Destro’s for right now, but now that you’ve got people helping him, you can focus on Tomura. And Tomura is – is –

The rise and fall of his ribcage is lopsided. He’s got a punctured lung. His shirt’s been torn away, and most of his torso is turning a strange mottled color, one you remember all too well from the victims at Kamino. Internal bleeding. His left hand’s down to three fingers. His right arm’s all but flayed. His leg’s broken so badly that you can see pieces of his femur protruding through his skin. The only thing that’s still working properly seems to be his heart. He still has a pulse, but he needs more help than you can give him. You can’t tourniquet internal bleeding. You can’t stitch wounds inside his body. As much as you want to save him, this is out of your skill set by a hundred kilometers.

You hear a helicopter approaching, and when you look up, you see a cross painted on its side. Medevac, but they’re here for Re-Destro, not for Tomura. When he sees the medics approaching, Re-Destro shakes his head. “Take him. I can wait.”

You’re terrified that they won’t listen, but Re-Destro’s minions are loyal. They come to Tomura’s side instead, load him onto a stretcher, and rush him to the helicopter with you chasing after them. One medic turns to tell you to back off and you shout in her face. “I’m a nurse! I can help!”

You’re not sure if she believes you, or if she just believes that you’ll throw yourself in anyway and spend the entire flight clinging to the landing gear if she says no. Whatever her reasons are, she steps aside, and you scramble onto the helicopter alongside Tomura’s stretcher.

You’ve never been inside any helicopter before, and you have a feeling that most of them aren’t this nice. They have actual gear, actual scanners, and while you get pressed into service trying to secure Tomura’s broken leg, then promptly kicked out to deal with his right arm, the medic who let you in runs a scanner over his torso. The image pops up on a screen attached to the cockpit divider, and when you glance up at it, your heart plummets a thousand meters, all the way back to earth.

Internal bleeding, just like you thought. Massive internal injuries, the kind a person can’t come back from, and the medic who ran the scan shakes her head. “Even if we had the blood to transfuse him, we can’t waste resources. This is ATC, and with those injuries – he’s not going to make it to the hospital.”

“No.” Your voice comes out watery and weak. “There’s something you can do. There has to be. I know –”

“You’re a nurse. You should know.” The medic gives you a look. “He’s got minutes. Say your goodbyes.”

It feels unreal. It can’t be real. This can’t be happening. Not like this, not after everything the two of you have been through, not after he’s won. How could you have let this happen to him? You look back up at the scan, hoping desperately that something’s changed and finding nothing. The medic is right. You’re a nurse, and you should know – a patient with injuries this severe isn’t someone who can be saved. No matter how many surgeons could work on them, no matter how many units of blood they might be transfused, there’s no way to hammer life back into a body this damaged. It’s cruel to try.

You lift his right hand, careful to avoid making contact with all his fingers at once. You can’t kiss it, but you bow your head over it all the same, fighting back tears. You can’t face the thought of never hearing his voice again, never linking little fingers with him again, never kissing him or making him laugh or playing another game. You swore you’d follow him through the end of the old world and into the new one. You can’t lose him again. If you could take his place, you would.

“Tenko,” you whisper, even though he can’t hear you, even though everything that matters is already beyond your reach. Maybe that’s why it’s easy to say, why the words are lighter than air on your tongue. “Tenko, I love you.”

You curl over his hand, eyes shut, head bowed. You can’t watch the light leave his face. Feeling his hand go limp and cold will be horrible enough. You stay still and wait as seconds tick past. Seconds, then minutes. The medic said he had minutes. How many minutes did she mean? A spark of hope catches in your chest and you smother it without mercy. He’s gone. You can’t have him back this time. He’s gone.

You hear the medic’s voice, but nothing she says makes sense. “Scan him again.”

“Why?”

“Just do it.”

You stay where you are until someone nudges you aside, but you don’t open your eyes, and you don’t let go of Tenko’s hand. The scanner hums as it runs over his limp, nearly lifeless body, then emits an excruciatingly loud beep. Even with your eyes shut, you see the flash of the screen coming to life. The medic’s voice is hesitant, stunned. “Holy hell.”

“That’s not possible,” the other medic says. “It isn’t! Not without –”

Both of them stop talking. If they’re not going to explain, you should look up and see for yourself. You open your eyes, and sit up, and that’s when you see the second scan, side-by-side with the first. And they’re – different. The first scan is apocalyptic, unsurvivable. Even someone with no medical training could tell. The second scan is bad, too, but it’s better. Better enough to change his status from black-tagged to red-tagged in the medics’ opinion, because they get back to work, working around you rather than telling you to move.

It’s weird, because you’re definitely in the way. You’d ask you to move, if you were them. Do they need you to help? You ask, and the other medic lets out a cracked, uncomfortable laugh. “You’re more useful where you are.”

“What?” you say blankly. “I don’t understand.”

“I do,” the doctor says in your ear. You’d forgotten he was there. “Tell me what you see.”

You describe the first scan, then the second. “Hm. It sounds to me as if Shigaraki’s body is repairing itself,” the doctor says. “Small repairs, obviously – he still requires major surgery and quite a bit of luck – but even such repairs take hours, days, or even weeks to occur naturally. And here they’ve occurred within the space of a few minutes. My dear Saintess – it seems you have a quirk after all.”

The doctor keeps talking, about how he and All For One are never wrong, how you were so silly to doubt him, how he knew your quirk would awaken if the right circumstances were met, and you ignore him. It’s easy to do, just like it’s easy to ignore the medics as they pivot around you, easy to ignore the pilots’ discussion of which MLA-controlled hospital to make for, easy to ignore the fresh scan that pops up on the screen, revealing even more improvement – impossibly slight, but enough. You focus on holding Tenko’s hand, keeping it safe between yours for the landing on the hospital’s roof, the race down to the operating theater, the hours and hours of surgery that leave you dead-on-your-feet tired, interrupted only by orders to move this way or that.

You’re still holding his hand as they wheel him out of surgery, into the recovery unit off the ICU. Still not thinking. Still ignoring everything but his hand, warm and wrapped in bandages, a pulse still beating in his wrist. He stirs slightly in his sleep, eyelids fluttering half-open with no awareness behind them, and you wonder if he’s in pain, if you can call someone to medicate him so he’ll get a good night’s sleep for the first time in months. Your hands are stiff and frozen around his, locked into position for hours on end, and you force yourself to let go. You might need your hands to help him. You’re still a medic, still a nurse. He might need more from you than this.

You leave your little finger linked with his, though. It’s tradition by now, and tradition, too, to tighten your grip just a little bit, letting him know you’re here. “I love you,” you say, in case he’s listening. It still feels easy to say.

Tenko doesn’t stir, doesn’t open his eyes. But his breathing is even, his heartbeat steady, and his finger hooks a little tighter around yours. He’s all the way under. It’s just a reflex, but you’ll take it as proof: In spite of everything, he’s here, too.

#shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x you #shigaraki tomura x reader #shigaraki tomura x you #tomura shigaraki x reader #tomura shigaraki x you #shimura tenko x reader #shimura tenko x you #tenko shimura x reader #tenko shimura x you #x reader #reader insert #please hold #man door hand hook car door

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nevermindtheweights · 3 months ago

Note

"Heeeyyy, Master Manami!" The ever-bubbly Shinigami found her way at La Brava's again, easily cozying up to the sheltered shortstack. "How are things?"

"Clothes are looking a liiittle tight there. Do you need new ones?"

The couch-filling redhead smiled a little as she was visited by the very huge and obese lady. It was nice to see her again. Days tended to pass by when you remained stuck inside, watching tv or lurking online. Still, she was starting to feel more animated as time had gone on. She'd probably never admit it openly but Shinigami was building her back up.

Days had meaning, the tastes of food grew more full-figured and while she spend days on the couch, they were not days spent in bed.

"Hey.. Heh.... I guess I have been eating a little more lately.... Is it that noticeable?"

She tugged uselessly at the t-shirt she wore, arms wobbling along with the rest of her as the shirt barely budged form her tug

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violetsaffron5 · 2 years ago

Text

Beautiful Disaster (1)

series masterlist • Chapter 2 →

↳ 1 | Memories

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x f!Reader

Gojo Satoru: confident, flippant, an all-around red flag. It’s a wonder why you started a multi-year tumultuous relationship with him that alters the course of your life and those around you.

cw: violence, profanity, heavy drinking/mention of drugs

words: 4k

an: i changed the name of this fic bc i wanted to pls don't come after me (or do i'm not your mother)

an2.0: broke this chapter into two parts so it wasn't a random 10,000 word first chapter, porn next chapter though

Taglist • Ao3 • Discord 18+ • Social Media • Series Masterlists

April 2018

You wake six minutes before your alarm is set to go off. The room is dark and cold, but the bed you’re laying in is warm, soft and cozy. Your head aches from the lack of sleep you got last night, having stayed up entirely way too late in nervous anticipation for this weekend.

When you stretch, the warm body next to you pulls you in close to him, begging for five more minutes before you roll out of bed and inevitably leave.

You grant him that wish, snuggling in closer and place several chaste kisses to his lips before he runs his hands along the curve of your spine down to your ass, grabbing a handful, tugging you closer to him. You gasp, feeling his hard length press against your stomach and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue in your mouth, gliding it against yours, groaning softly as he rocks his hips into you gently.

“I really have to go, otherwise I’m going to be late.”

He huffs before kissing the tip of your nose, “You’re right. Utahime can be a bitch like that.”

“Be nice,” you scold while rolling out of bed and grabbing the bag you pre-packed before changing into your clothes for traveling, kissing your partner, ensuring them that you’ll see them later and head out for the weekend's festivities.

A bullet train and several hours later you’ve reached your destination, just outside of Kyoto at a beautiful venue. The main building is white, traditional with several other smaller buildings resembling the primary one scattered across the lawn.

There are several cherry blossom trees in full bloom where wait staff are setting up various chairs; the wooden archway and florists are getting the flowers setup along the aisle and on the arch posts.

As you take in the view around; the ponds with cherry blossom leaves falling elegantly into the water, the sporadic rays of the sun filtering through the branches of the trees, you absentmindedly run your thumb along your ring finger before sighing and continuing your trek along the cement path.

Walking inside the main building, the floors are marble, with a modern grand staircase leading up to the bridal suite where you’re greeted by several college friends, including Utahime, who walks over and embraces you awkwardly, never having been one to show physical affection.

“You made it, on time even.” She comments in surprise as you chuckle, telling her how you barely made it out of the house with a certain someone trying to coax you back into bed.

She grimaces before excusing herself to go smoke a cigarette, to your surprise, out on the balcony while the other ladies giggle, changing into their outfits for lunch.

Manami Suda makes her way into the room holding a glass of champagne and squealing before taking a seat at one of the vanities near you.

“Did you hear Gojo’s going to be here this weekend?”

You give a curt nod and take a deep breath before sitting in front of the vanity next to hers, turning on the curling iron. It’s a subject you were hoping would be avoided the majority of the weekend, but clearly you’re not going to get that lucky.

“Yeah, I did.”

“Listen,” she says, suddenly serious which makes your brows knit together, “this weekend is about Utahime and -”

You glare at her from the corner of your eye, grabbing a section of hair wrapping it around the tool before letting it go, watching the perfect curl fall next to your face.

“We’re all adults, I’m pretty sure I can handle seeing him for a few hours.”

“I just want to make sure there’s not going to be any drama between the two of you.”

“There won’t be, so let’s just change the subject, okay?”

“Okay,” Manami replies quietly, “want help with your hair?”

You nod and give a half-hearted smile as Manami walks over and begins curling the rest of your hair telling several anecdotes with the rest of the bridal party about Utahime, how they all met and how they’re so excited for this luncheon and the ceremony that’s going to take place in a few days.

All the while, you stare at yourself in the mirror, smiling along with everyone else and laughing when they laugh, a sour feeling filling the pit of your stomach as you think about the events that have transpired over the years that brought you here, by Utahime’s side, of all people, before she walks down the aisle to the love of her life.

September 2011

You’ll never forget the moment you first laid eyes on him.

Skin glistening with sweat in a basement of one of the off-campus university houses, dim lights accentuating the curve of each of his toned, sinewy muscles. Ivory hair damp, lip and eyebrow busted and bleeding from the cuts he received prior to you walking into the crowded space.

It’s a small, cramped room, filled to the brim with other students yelling, screaming and booing while he wipes the sweat from his forehead and blood from his lip with the back of his hand, chest heaving up and down with each deep breath he takes.

You’re making your way through the mob, hand cupped tight to Shoko’s as she leads the way to the front. There’s a yellow ring spray painted on the floor and inside only the white haired man and two others are located. One looks as if he’s acting as a referee, with strawberry pink hair on top and a chocolate colored fade just below. The other person is flat on his back, face turned away from you; he’s clearly been knocked out.

Through the horde a tall man appears, black skin-tight shirt, well defined muscles so visible through the thin layer of fabric he may as well not have one on, his gray sweats hang low on his hips as he bends over, checking the pulse of the boy on the floor.

The room goes quiet and the scent of copper and perspiration fills the room, more noticeable than before as you wait for the verdict. The man stands, with the other boy in his arms, hanging off his shoulder loosely, head dangling towards the ground and walks him out of the ring towards the entrance you just came through.

“Everyone shut the fuck up,” the peach haired man says, tattoos sprawling across his face, eyes small and somehow crimson as he speaks into a bullhorn when the the room explodes with rambunctiousness again. “You all know how this goes: betting ends once the opponent hits the floor, no touching or assisting the fighters in any way and no encroachment on the ring. Break any of these rules, and you’ll get your ass beat.”

Everyone in the room is intent on bloodshed and you wonder if you’re going to be able to make it out unscathed as you stand near the border of the ring. You’re being pushed and bumped into, the sea of people spilling their beers and other beverages as many of them try to make their way to the front, pushing you into Shoko so they can get a better view.

When you came to tour the campus last week and learn your way around, you met two people during orientation - Ieiri Shoko and Geto Suguru. Both were happy to help you get acquainted and show you around, both surprised to learn you were transferring to Tokyo Tech for your sophomore year - the same year as them.

You explained that you wanted to get further away from home, and how Tokyo Tech has courses that are more suited for your degree, so in an effort to be more independent, you opted to go ahead and transfer rather than procrastinating and trying to wait until senior year.

Shoko took the opportunity to show you to the dorms, to where your room is and let you know her room is just a few doors down the same hall, and Suguru let you know there’s a party at his place off campus during Welcome Week, and invited the two of you to come.

Shoko and Suguru were already acquainted with one another and in an effort to make friends, you agreed to come, but an underground fight club is not what you were anticipating to find out about during your first week at this college, or ever really.

The emcee continues to hold the bullhorn to his lips, introducing the fighters for the next round, “alright, this fucker needs no introduction, but I’ll give him one anyway: Gojo Satoru.”

The crowd explodes into whoops and hollers like this guys is a fucking celebrity of some sort.

“What’s the deal with him?” You lean towards Shoko, yelling into her ear so she can hear you over the noise.

“Gojo’s undefeated, started fighting the day Sukuna started this in an abandoned Wendy’s parking lot last year as freshmen. Everyone loves it - sick bastards.”

“How has the school not shut it down?” You ask, eyes trailing Gojo’s movements as he walks around the ring, stretching his shoulders and cracking his neck from side to side, spitting out some blood from his lip in the process.

“The big guy earlier, the one who carried that freshmen out - that’s Toji Fushiguro, one of the professors here. He helped Sukuna start this, keeping an ear out if there’s any talk in the school from the higher-ups. Occasionally these fights will be moved to someone else’s basement, or even back at the parking lot just in case the school decides to investigate.”

You nod in understanding as a young bleached blonde steps into the ring, cracking his knuckles. He looks to be wearing eyeliner, which seems to be an odd choice when getting ready to fight, since it would just smear with sweat, his ears are also covered in earrings which seems like an even worse choice in a fight with barely any rules.

“Who lives in this house then?”

“Sukuna, the emcee,” she nods her head in his direction, “Geto and Gojo, though it’s not uncommon for people to spend the night after these parties, since the house is so big.”

It’s true - the house is large but also a mess. When you made your way across campus and down the street the house sits on, you could hear the music blasting from the corner, several cars lined the driveway and even sat in the yard. Some of them looked incredibly expensive, others slammed or souped up.

The house itself is two stories, white siding with plenty of windows for natural light. There are columns on the front porch holding up a balcony on the top floor. The yard was a mess with red cups and empty bottles strewn across the grass. A typical college party house.

Inside, you didn’t get to see much as Shoko grabbed your hand and led you down the steps immediately.

“Here we’ve got a newbie freshman, trying to prove his worth: Zenin Naoya!” Sukuna states, raising his hand in the air.

You watch as the two men interact with one another with some familiarity, Gojo leans down, whispering something in Zenin’s ear, which clearly upsets him judging by the knitted brows and pissed off look in his eyes, he looks as if he’s about to murder someone while Gojo stands, bouncing on the tips of his toes looking mildly amused with himself.

The two take a few steps back from one another before Sukuna drops his hand. Zenin immediately takes a defensive stance while Gojo throws several punches at the same time several people jab you in your own side, trying to get a better view, pushing you out of the way and slightly into the ring.

“Fuck off, dude!” Shoko yells, grabbing you by the elbow and pulling you back into her.

When you finally look back into the ring, Zenin’s face is already bloodied and Gojo’s lip is bleeding again. Zenin grabs Gojo with his muscular arms and wraps a leg around Gojo’s, trying to grapple him to the ground, but without losing balance, Gojo’s other knee connects with Zenin’s face causing him to stumble backwards.

Zenin isn’t able to recover before Gojo lands a series of blows to his face before landing one final punch to Zenin’s nose, causing his eyes to roll back and his body crashing onto the concrete floor with a loud thud, blood from his nose spraying out and gushing down the side of his face.

The room grows quiet for a moment again before Sukuna mutters a “shit,” and grabs the bullhorn once again, “that’s enough for tonight. Go party, shit heads.”

Gojo doesn’t seem fazed, standing tall, breathing heavy again with blood running down his chin. He looks out into the crowd as if he’s looking for someone. There’s a churning in your stomach that happens the moment his eyes lock with yours; they’re wild and unhinged, which makes you queasy from the intensity. But at the same time, so beautiful, crystalline and blue, filled with a passion you’ve never experienced before.

Like a beautiful disaster just waiting to happen.

He grins at you, it’s lopsided and alluring, the dim light of the basement casting a golden halo over his skin. You smile back, biting your lower lip before Shoko grabs your elbow, pulling you back the way you came.

“We’re taking shots!” Shoko shouts as soon as you’re in the kitchen. The island is set up with bottles and bottles of alcohol along with stacks of red plastic cups lined, some empty to be used, others filled and left behind by the owner.

Shoko grabs a few of the cups, filling them with vodka before handing you one, clinking your cup with hers you gulp it down, wincing and scrunching your nose at the taste before she fills your cup again, taking another.

She’s able to drink more than you anticipated, and she seems unaffected when her friend, Utahime, appears by her side, joining her when you tap out after the back to back shots.

Utahime is in a pair of cute overalls, with a black shirt underneath, her silky black hair is down going past her shoulders with half of it pulled back with a red ribbon. Her eyes are a gorgeous deep set brown. She’s stunning when she smiles brightly at Shoko whose caramel brown hair barely touches her shoulder, the sides tucked behind her ear as she laughs at something Utahime says.

She looks less tired tonight than when you met her last week, the deep purple bags under her eyes less prominent, like she was able to get plenty of rest last night. She’s in pre-med, studying her ass off to go to a good medical school, on top of working part-time at a local restaurant where she works with Utahime, whom you met earlier in the evening while getting ready to go out with Shoko.

In an effort to not be attached to her hip all night, you make your way down the hall and out into the living room. It’s a large open space, a huge sectional couch taking up most of it with a coffee table in the center littered with more drugs than you’ve seen in your entire life along with several bottles of alcohol and a giant TV hung up on the opposite side with surround sound speakers.

Suguru is standing on the opposite side of the couch, facing the direction you just walked in from, talking with a few ladies with bleached blonde hair. Next to him is the emcee from the basement, Sukuna.

He smiles and nods his head, patting the pink haired man on the shoulder and excusing himself as he makes his way over to you. He greets you with a quick “hey,” and a hug which you happily return in your tipsy state.

“You good?” Suguru asks curiously as he pulls away, looking at the goofy grin on your face.

“I’m actually so good right now.”

You were secretly hoping to run into Suguru and be able to spend more time with him tonight. He’s incredibly attractive with his chiseled jaw, gauged ears and glossy ebony hair pulled back into a bun that sits on top of his head. Suguru has an aura about him that’s just calming and makes you feel good about yourself.

“I didn’t see you downstairs.”

“I came up to help Toji with the kid who got knocked out earlier.”

The two of you make your way to the couch as you explain how you must have just missed each other because the kid was being walked out when you arrived with Shoko.

“So, is this like, some fucked up wonderland for drugs?” You ask, nodding towards the coffee table.

Geto laughs before shaking his head, “nah, but Sukuna would appreciate that you said that. Want anything?”

You’re looking at the assortment of pills, powders and liquids on the table as Sukuna walks over, “your boy likes the powder, the other is a fan of the pill.”

“The other?” You look at Sukuna confused.

“Satoru,” Suguru says, “he was the one fighting in the ring earlier.”

You hum and watch as Suguru pops one of the pills into his mouth. “That freshman was already trying to fight him. Doesn’t the semester start in a few days?”

“They’ve known each other for a long time. Family businesses are entwined.” Sukuna states, lighting a joint before offering it to you, which you decline. The night is still young and you want to catch up with Shoko and Utahime again later, so it’s best not to get too fucked up and have to rely on one of your new found friends to care for you.

That’d be embarrassing on your first night out on campus.

“If you’re not gonna smoke, let's go get something to drink,” Geto offers before grabbing your hand and leading you towards the kitchen. You wave to Sukuna just before a girl with light pink hair grabs Geto’s other hand, getting his attention.

“Suguru,” she wines, “can you help me really quick?”

He purses his lips, looking over to you where you smile and say, “go ahead. I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”

You chuckle to yourself and roll your eyes as you walk down the hall towards the kitchen, placing your hand on the wall a few times to balance yourself so you don’t accidently trip over your own feet.

“Still don’t see why you care.” An icy tone from the kitchen says before you stumble in seeing the voice belongs to Gojo, leaned against the counters, a lit cigarette between his fingers before bringing it to his glossy lips, taking a drag.

“Because these fights are fucking animalistic, and your image affects me too.” There’s a woman with straight silver-tinted hair standing across the kitchen island, her eyes sharp and filled with furry as she stares at the ivory haired man, ignoring your presence.

Gojo shrugs, “sounds like a you problem,” the smoke be inhaled earlier leaving through his nose and mouth as he pushes off the counter, snubbing the cigarette along the way and going to the island to pour himself a drink.

The woman scoffs, grabbing her own cup and stomping out of the kitchen rather dramatically in your opinion. You purse your lips and avoid looking at him as you grab a new cup, dumping a dark colored soda you don’t bother reading the name of with one of the clear liquors, and pour a generous amount in, swirling your cup to mix them.

“You look uncomfortable.” Gojo says, making you look up to meet his gaze.

The lights in the kitchen are brighter than the ones in the basement, showing off his jawline and high cheekbones, all sharp edges. His eyes are somehow brighter in this light as well, more crystal clear like the ocean surrounded by thick, long, fluffy white lashes. He’s in a black shirt with dark jeans now, the cuts on his lip and eyebrow no longer bleeding.

“Uh, what?” Your brows raise and you blink several times because yes you are obviously uncomfortable from having accidentally walked in on their private conversation.

“Gojo Satoru,” he says smoothly, “you look great, by the way.”

Your cheeks flush at the sudden compliment, before muttering a thanks. You tell him your name in response and he says it several times, tasting it on his tongue like fine wine, eyes watching your every movement.

“That’s a beautiful name. Really suits you, just like that dress.” His eyes unashamedly wander your body before he comes to stand next to you. He’s confident, cocky and his mere presence is intoxicating. “You new?”

“Yeah, I am.”

“Freshmen?”

“Sophomore.”

“Hm. Maybe we’ll have some classes together.” He grins down at you as you crane your neck up to him because he’s so, so much taller than he looked in the basement earlier.

“What’s your major?”

Gojo tells you he’s pre-law, hoping to get a good internship junior year and make his way into an Ivy League law school. You tell him your major and the classes you’re taking, but he just says “guess you’ll have to wait and see,” when you ask if there are any classes you have together.

You roll your eyes and laugh, taking a sip of your drink, watching him smile over the rim of your cup.

“You don’t seem uptight. I think most uptight people just aren’t being fucked all that well.”

You cough and sputter into your drink, not having expected him to say that, “is, uh, is that what her problem was?” You nod your head towards the entryway to the kitchen where the silver haired woman left, “she just isn’t getting fucked well?”

“Ouch,” he feigns hurt, holding his hand over his heart, “I’ll have you know I’m a great fuck.”

“That’s great,” you laugh awkwardly, “that’s really… good for you.”

Satoru smiles down at you, and you’re not entirely sure when during that conversation your back made contact with the wall behind you, but it did, his face inches from yours, leaning on one of his long arms caging you in.

“God, your laugh is precious,” his voice is low, honeyed. He grabs the cup you’re sipping on between two of his fingers, setting both his and yours on the counter next to you, and you just let him.

Turning your head up to meet his gaze, you feel your cheeks heat again, noses brushing alongside one another. Your lips part every so slightly when his ghost yours; you lean forward, ever so slightly, unconsciously trying to close the almost non-existent gap between the two of you but he moves away ever so slightly with a shit eating grin plastered on his face.

You find yourself gripping the fabric of his cotton shirt at the base of his stomach, feeling his hardened muscles clench at the contact, keeping him close.

His breath is mingling with yours in the tight space, smelling alcohol and cigarettes with each exhale.

“Gojo.” you murmur, almost a whisper, almost pleading.

He chuckles, hand finding its way to your hip as he threads the other through your hair, slotting his lips with yours.

Gojo’s a graceful kisser, tasting of alcohol and mint from the cigarette. His lips meld with yours, snaking your lower lip between his teeth, tugging playfully, loving the sound of the soft sigh that leaves your lips as he does this.

The feeling of a little metal ball on his tongue takes you back for a second before you realize he has his tongue pierced, the thought sending a jolt right to your core, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss.

You can’t hear the ongoing party, haven’t been able to for a while now. The bass is still reverberating through the walls and the floor, from the tips of your toes through the rest of your body.

He pulls back, eyes half lidded flickering between yours and your lips, voice husky with arousal as he asks, “my room?”

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