#Then the neighbors two doors down from them and so on | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ghostlyreader09 · 18 hours ago

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snapshots of love

kento nanami x (y/n)

enjoy!!! (i had yellow by coldplay in mind for this so give it a listen for a better experience!)

age 5: the garden grew twice

Kento Nanami was a quiet boy even at five, one who preferred the rhythm of solitude to the clamor of the playground. He found comfort in routine: the deliberate brushing of crumbs off a table, the orderly rows of books in the school library, the steady sound of his grandmother humming while she watered her garden. The world was large, loud, and unpredictable, but here in her small backyard, with the soil under his knees and the scent of marigolds in the air, he could carve out a piece of peace.

You arrived like a pebble breaking the still surface of a pond. His grandmother had called you over from next door, her words soft and warm as she introduced the neighbor’s granddaughter. Your sunhat was comically oversized, the wide brim flopping over your forehead. Dirt already streaked your cheeks, evidence of earlier mischief, but your eyes sparkled beneath the shade of the hat. Kento stared, unsure of what to make of you.

“I’m here to help!” you declared, hands on your hips, as though you’d been assigned a mission of the utmost importance. Without waiting for an invitation, you dropped to your knees beside him, your skirt pooling in the dirt.

Kento said nothing. He liked quiet, and you didn’t seem to understand the concept.

“These seeds,” you said, holding up a handful of tiny kernels, “are going to turn into the biggest sunflowers you’ve ever seen.”

“They’re just seeds,” he replied, his voice flat.

You gasped, as though he’d insulted something sacred. “They’re not just anything! They’re magic. But only if we treat them right.”

“Magic?”

“Yup.” You nodded, utterly serious. “You have to talk to them. Cheer them on. Plants grow better when they feel loved.”

Kento frowned, skeptical. His grandmother had never spoken to her flowers—she simply tended to them with care. He returned to pulling weeds, dismissing your words as nonsense. But you were undeterred. With a dramatic flourish, you buried a seed in the soil, patted the dirt gently, and leaned down until your nose was almost touching the ground.

“You’re going to grow so tall,” you whispered to the seed, your voice soft and encouraging. “You’ll reach the sky one day.”

Kento watched, equal parts amused and baffled. Your determination was infectious, though he would have never admitted it aloud.

“Your turn,” you said, holding out a single seed to him.

He hesitated, his hand hovering over the seed in your palm. The idea of speaking to a plant seemed absurd. But your gaze was expectant, your eyes wide with the kind of belief only children possessed, and he couldn’t bring himself to refuse. Taking the seed, he pressed it into the soil and stared at it for a long moment.

“Grow,” he mumbled awkwardly.

You giggled, the sound as bright as sunlight breaking through clouds. “See? Now it knows you care.”

Weeks passed, and the garden bloomed as it always did. Kento had all but forgotten about the sunflowers until the day his grandmother called him outside. The air smelled of earth and rain, and the garden was alive with color. But it was the sunflowers that stopped him in his tracks.

Two rows of golden giants swayed gently in the breeze, their faces turned toward the sun. The first row was neat and orderly, the product of his grandmother’s careful planting. But the second row—slightly smaller, slightly wilder—was unmistakably yours.

Kento’s grandmother marveled at the sight, running her fingers along the sturdy stalks. “I didn’t plant these,” she said, her voice tinged with wonder. “How did they grow?”

Kento knew the answer but kept it to himself. He thought of your whispers, your dirt-streaked cheeks, the way you had spoken to the seeds as though they were friends. “(Y/N) told them to grow,” he muttered under his breath.

The next time you visited, he showed you the sunflowers, their golden heads bobbing in the wind. You beamed, your pride as radiant as the blooms themselves. “See? I told you they’d grow. They just needed someone to believe in them.”

Kento didn’t reply. He wasn’t good with words, especially when faced with your boundless enthusiasm. But he felt something stir in his chest as he looked at you, your eyes alight with joy.

It wasn’t love—not yet. He didn’t have the words for it, didn’t understand the quiet pull he felt toward you. But in that moment, standing beside you in the garden, he thought that maybe, just maybe, there was something magical about you after all.

Every time he passed by the sunflowers that summer, he thought of you. And every time, he felt that strange, inexplicable warmth bloom in his chest. Though he didn’t know it then, it was the first seed of something much bigger, something that would grow in the quiet corners of his heart, waiting for the right moment to bloom.

————

age 8: the day the sky broke

Kento Nanami wasn’t the sort of boy who ran headlong into chaos. He was deliberate, careful, and observant, already displaying a maturity that made him seem older than his ten years. At a glance, he might have seemed stoic or cold, but really, he was just trying to keep his balance in a world that often felt unsteady.

That day had begun with the heaviness of an oncoming storm. The sky hung low, bruised with dark clouds that rolled in like soldiers marching to battle. The air was thick and electric, and even the chatter of his classmates felt muffled, like everyone was holding their breath. Kento didn’t care for storms. Rain turned the ground slick and treacherous, and thunder rattled the air like a drumbeat announcing that everything could fall apart at any moment. He preferred days of clear skies and dry ground, where everything made sense and stayed where it was supposed to.

At recess, Kento had retreated to the edge of the playground, sitting under the shelter of the old swing set with a library book balanced on his knees. He wasn’t really reading—he’d read the same sentence three times without absorbing a word—but the act of holding the book gave him an excuse to stay apart from the noisy groups of children. It wasn’t that he disliked them, exactly. He just found their energy overwhelming, their laughter grating when it stretched too loud.

But then there was you.

You were part of the noise, part of the wild tangle of voices that raced across the field, but Kento had always thought you were different. You weren’t the kind of loud that made him want to retreat further into himself. Your laughter, for some reason, felt softer. More inviting. It didn’t push—it pulled.

He watched you now from the corner of his eye as you darted across the field, your ponytail swinging behind you like a banner. You were playing tag, your arms outstretched as you chased another kid, your sneakers kicking up clouds of dust. Even from a distance, Kento could see the determination on your face, the fire in your eyes. You ran like you had no intention of ever slowing down, like the world would simply have to keep up with you.

And then, as if on cue, the first drops of rain began to fall.

It started as a whisper, soft and tentative, but within moments, it was a roar. The sky opened up, unleashing sheets of water that drenched the playground in seconds. The other kids scattered, squealing as they raced for cover under the small awning near the swings. Kento closed his book, tucking it carefully into his bag to protect it from the damp.

But you didn’t run.

He saw you stop in the middle of the field, tilting your head back as the rain poured down. You stood perfectly still, your arms slack at your sides, your face upturned toward the sky. For a moment, Kento thought you were frozen, caught off guard by the sudden storm. But then you moved.

You spread your arms wide and spun in a slow, deliberate circle, your sneakers splashing in the growing puddles. Your laughter rang out across the playground, bright and unrestrained, cutting through the gray like a ray of sunlight.

Kento stared, unsure whether to feel embarrassed for you or annoyed by your recklessness. “What are you doing?” he muttered under his breath, though no one could hear him.

The other kids huddled under the awning, their jackets pulled tight around their shoulders as they whispered and pointed at you. Kento thought about joining them, about blending into the safety of the group. But something kept him rooted to the spot.

“Come back!” one of the kids yelled, their voice barely audible over the pounding rain.

You didn’t listen. Instead, you looked toward the awning—toward him—and waved. “What are you all waiting for?” you shouted, your voice carrying through the storm. “It’s just water!”

Kento felt his cheeks flush. He couldn’t understand you, couldn’t fathom why anyone would willingly stay out in the rain when shelter was so close. You were soaked to the bone, your hair plastered to your forehead and your uniform clinging to your small frame. But you didn’t seem to care.

“Nanami!” you called, your grin wide and infectious. “Come on!”

He shook his head, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. “No thanks,” he muttered, though you couldn’t hear him.

You shrugged, unbothered, and returned to your puddles. Kento told himself you were foolish, reckless, even childish, but he couldn’t look away. There was something mesmerizing about the way you moved, how you jumped from puddle to puddle with abandon, each splash sending arcs of water into the air. You looked so alive, like the rain was an old friend you were welcoming home.

When the bell rang, signaling the end of recess, you finally trudged back to the awning. You were dripping wet, your uniform a mess and your shoes squelching with every step, but your grin was as bright as ever. “You missed out,” you said, shaking water from your hair like a dog. “It was amazing.”

Kento frowned, reaching into his bag and pulling out the small towel he always carried. He handed it to you without a word, his gaze fixed on the ground.

“Thanks,” you said softly, wrapping the towel around your shoulders.

As the two of you walked back to class, the rain still falling in a steady rhythm, Kento found himself glancing at you from the corner of his eye. You were dripping and disheveled, but you didn’t seem to mind. In fact, you looked… content.

That night, as he lay in bed listening to the rain patter against his window, Kento thought about you. About the way you had defied the storm, how you had turned something most people avoided into something to celebrate. He thought about your laughter, about the way it had cut through the gray and made the world seem less heavy.

For the first time, he wondered what it might feel like to step into the rain.

And though he didn’t know it then, that day planted something new in Kento’s heart. It wasn’t a neat row of sunflowers like before. This was wilder, untamed, like the storm itself. It was the start of something that would grow quietly, steadily, until one day it became impossible to ignore.

————

age 10: summer nights of fireflys

The summer seemed to stretch forever, each day warmer than the last, the sun high and unrelenting. The grass, golden and dry from weeks without rain, brushed against Kento Nanami’s legs as he sat on the edge of the porch, staring out at the quiet yard. He loved these long afternoons, when the world seemed to settle into a slower rhythm, when even the cicadas’ hum became a steady companion to his thoughts.

The evening breeze was cooler, carrying with it the scent of pine and earth, and the last rays of sunlight kissed the edges of the horizon, painting the sky in streaks of pink and orange. A perfect summer evening.

But then there was you.

Kento watched from his perch on the porch, the heel of his sneaker dragging across the worn wood beneath him, as you darted across the yard, your small form a blur in the fading light. Your hair was wild and loose, the strands catching the glow of the sun like threads of copper and gold. You wore one of those old summer dresses with little flowers on it, the hem flying up as you ran.

“You’re going to trip, you know,” he called from his spot on the porch, though his voice lacked any real heat. He knew you weren’t listening, anyway.

“Don’t be boring, Nanami!” you shouted back, without looking over your shoulder. “Come help me! They’re getting away!”

You were chasing fireflies, darting after them with the kind of joy that Kento could only admire from a distance. Your arms reached out, fingers almost touching the glowing lights before they flitted away again, your laughter ringing through the air like a bell. Kento’s gaze lingered on you, a mix of exasperation and something else bubbling up in his chest, something he couldn’t quite name.

He was always like this, wasn’t he? Watching from the sidelines. But he couldn’t bring himself to join you, not when you were so carefree, so wrapped up in the magic of the evening. His feet stayed firmly planted on the porch, while you ran wild through the yard, your giggles like music in the air.

But then you stopped, just a little bit out of breath. Your arms hung at your sides as you took a moment to catch your breath, and Kento saw you glance at him.

“Don’t just sit there!” you yelled, waving both arms at him. “Come catch them with me!”

Kento sighed, knowing you wouldn’t stop calling until he came over. He wasn’t really sure what he would do once he joined you, but you were relentless, and it was easier to give in than to ignore you.

So, with a huff, he pushed himself off the porch, his shoes scraping against the wood as he walked toward you. “Fine, but I’m not going to run around like you,” he muttered, though there was an edge of amusement in his voice. “I’ll just watch.”

You didn’t say anything at first, but your smile grew wider as he joined you in the yard, his hands tucked in his pockets. “It’s all about the surprise,” you said, a wink flashing in your eye. “You have to surprise them. Sneak up like this.” You dropped to your knees in the grass, your hands poised like a cat’s paws.

Kento knelt beside you, unsure how to mimic your movements. He was used to doing things by the book, following the rules, being patient and quiet. But the way you approached the fireflies was something else entirely. It was more like playing hide-and-seek than anything else.

“Watch this!” you said, bouncing to your feet. Then you took a slow, exaggerated step forward, crouching low as if the fireflies might somehow notice her. You reached out with one hand, and in a moment of perfect timing, you cupped a firefly in your hand.

Kento blinked, his mouth slightly open in surprise. “You got it,” he said, his voice more stunned than impressed.

“See?” You opened your hands to reveal the tiny glowing insect resting in your palm. Its tiny body pulsed with light, the glow soft but steady. It seemed to shimmer in the last bits of daylight, small enough to fit in your palm like a secret.

Kento looked at your glowing hand for a moment before he nodded. “Okay. Let me try.”

He moved his hands carefully, trying to be as quiet as possible. But as he reached for one of the little lights, it darted away before he could catch it.

“Oh, no!” you exclaimed, laughing. “You scared it away! You have to be slower!”

Kento sighed, annoyed at himself. “I know. It’s harder than it looks.”

You giggled, not in a mean way, but in that way you did when you were trying to encourage him without mocking him. “It’s not hard,” you said, grinning. “Just watch me. You can do it. Don’t think too much. Just… reach out, slow and steady.”

Kento bit back a grin of his own. “Alright, alright.” He crouched down again, trying to copy your movements. This time, as his hand hovered close to one of the fireflies, he waited. The light blinked, bright against the dimming sky, and he made his move. Slowly, he reached out, cupping his hands together as you had done.

“Got it,” he said, the smile in his voice.

You cheered, jumping up and down. “See? I knew you could do it!” You pulled your hands back, showing him the tiny, glowing insect caught within his palms. The firefly buzzed softly, trying to free itself, but Kento held it gently, just tight enough to keep it safe.

For a long moment, the two of you just stood there, looking down at the tiny creature. It pulsed faintly in the dark, like a little heartbeat.

“You did it,” you said, breathless, your eyes wide. “That was amazing!”

Kento didn’t say anything at first, just letting his hands stay still, watching the way the light in his palm reflected in your eyes. You weren’t looking at him the way most people did—you weren’t waiting for him to say something clever or show off. You were just… there, in the moment with him.

“Thanks,” he said, finally looking up at you. His voice was quiet, almost shy.

You smiled, and there was something warm in that smile, something unspoken between you, as if the evening had somehow woven a secret thread connecting the two of you.

“I’m going to let it go now,” Kento said, his voice soft.

You nodded. “Yeah. Me too.”

He slowly opened his hands, watching as the little firefly blinked once and then darted upward, disappearing into the night like a tiny star.

For a while, neither of you said anything. The only sound was the distant rustling of the trees and the occasional soft chime of crickets in the grass. The fireflies began to thin out as the night grew deeper, but Kento didn’t want to leave yet. The moment felt too fragile, like if he moved, it might shatter.

“I’m going to go in soon,” you said suddenly, turning toward your house.

“Yeah,” Kento replied, standing up and brushing the grass from his knees. “I should too.”

You didn’t walk away immediately, though. Instead, you lingered, the two of you standing side by side, your shadows long on the grass in the dimming light.

“Goodnight, Nanami,” you said finally, your voice soft and sincere.

“Goodnight, (Y/N),” he replied, a small, shy smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

As you turned and ran back toward the house, your dress fluttering behind you in the summer night, Kento watched you go. Something shifted inside him, something warm and quiet, like a secret he didn’t know how to name yet.

And for the first time, Kento realized that the fireflies weren’t the only things that had gotten away that night. He had, too—lost in the glow of your laughter, in the quiet magic of just being beside you.

————

age 13: maybe something more?

The sun was bright, almost too bright, as Kento Nanami stood in the schoolyard, his uniform pressed neatly, the edges of his shirt stiff against his skin. It was one of those mid-afternoon moments where the air felt thick with humidity, making even the simplest movement feel like a slow-motion effort. He hated the weight of it, how the sun seemed to burn into his back, leaving his skin feeling hot and sticky, despite the fact that school was over for the day.

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his hands shoved into the pockets of his pants, trying to cool his palms. The yard was filled with the usual bustle of students—some laughing, some chasing after balls, others in animated groups exchanging stories from the day. But Kento wasn’t really paying attention to any of them.

His gaze was fixed on you.

You were a few steps away from him, talking to one of the girls from your class. You were laughing at something she’d said, your smile wide and unguarded, that familiar light in your eyes—bright, wild, and completely free. Kento didn’t know why, but he found himself watching you more often lately. Maybe it was how you seemed to move through life so effortlessly, like you didn’t carry the same weight of responsibility he did, or maybe it was how you could make something as simple as walking across the schoolyard look like a kind of magic.

He swallowed hard and looked away quickly, hoping no one noticed the way his thoughts seemed to linger on you. It wasn’t something he wanted to acknowledge, not just yet. Kento was always careful with his emotions, keeping them tightly locked away, like precious objects in a box. Feelings were distractions—he knew that much. They didn’t make sense, didn’t follow rules. But lately, there was a tug in his chest, something odd that stirred every time you laughed or looked his way, something that felt less like a choice and more like something inevitable.

“Oi, Nanami! What are you staring at?”

The voice pulled him from his thoughts with the sharpness of a well-aimed dart. He turned his head, only to see Gojo and Suguru standing just a few feet away, both of them grinning from ear to ear. Gojo’s expression was that of someone who’d just discovered the greatest secret in the universe, while Suguru had that mischievous glint in his eyes, the one that always preceded trouble.

Kento felt his cheeks flush, but he kept his gaze steady. He hadn’t even realized they were nearby.

“I wasn’t staring,” Kento muttered, his voice steady, but his heart rate spiking ever so slightly.

Gojo rolled his eyes dramatically, stepping closer, his hands raised in mock surrender. “Oh, come on, Nanami. Don’t act like we don’t know.” He leaned in, lowering his voice as though sharing the most scandalous gossip. “You’ve been eyeing (Y/N) like a hawk for weeks now. What’s going on, huh? You like her or something?”

Kento’s heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, he couldn’t find his words. The teasing was sharp, but not unkind, and it stung more than it should have. Gojo’s eyes gleamed with that playful arrogance that always made him impossible to ignore. Suguru, ever the instigator, leaned in with an exaggerated expression of curiosity.

“Well, Kento? Are you going to admit it? Have you caught feelings for (Y/N)?” Suguru’s grin stretched wider, knowing he had the upper hand.

Kento couldn’t suppress the heat rising in his cheeks, and he quickly averted his eyes, looking back down at the ground, though it did nothing to quell the nervous flutter in his stomach. Was it that obvious? Did they know?

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Kento muttered, but there was no bite to his words. It was almost a reflex, a defense against something he wasn’t ready to face. “I’m not interested in all that.”

Suguru gave him a knowing look. “Sure, sure,” he teased, crossing his arms over his chest. “You know, Nanami, it’s perfectly normal for a guy to like a girl. Don’t you think it’s a little strange to keep denying it?”

Gojo snorted in the background. “What he means to say is… maybe you’re afraid of her finding out you like her. You’ve got a crush, huh? That’s so cute.”

The words hung in the air like a heavy silence. It wasn’t that Kento didn’t know what a crush was. He’d seen his classmates laugh and blush when they talked about their crushes, and he understood the concept. But somehow, hearing it applied to him made his thoughts spin. Was it really a crush? Was he really feeling that way?

He couldn’t answer them, not right away. It was as if his words were tangled up with the feeling itself—something soft and confusing that was stirring inside him whenever you were near. He didn’t want to admit it, but the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. He hadn’t just noticed you because you were always around. No, it was something deeper, something he didn’t know how to put into words.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Kento muttered again, though it was a little less convincing this time.

Gojo laughed loudly, slinging an arm around Kento’s shoulders in that over-the-top, annoyingly affectionate way that always made Kento feel like a little kid again. “It’s fine, Nanami! We’ve all been there. I mean, come on, look at you. You’re practically glowing whenever you look at her. Your little ‘silent admiration’ thing is cute, but don’t you think it’s time to say something?”

“You’re both ridiculous,” Kento snapped, though the heat on his face was undeniable.

Suguru chuckled, raising an eyebrow. “Hey, we’re just trying to help. So… what’s the plan? Are you going to keep pretending you don’t like her?”

Before Kento could respond, you walked over, still laughing with your friend, oblivious to the conversation happening just a few feet away. You gave a friendly wave in Kento’s direction, and his stomach lurched in a way he didn’t understand. His heart, as if on cue, gave a little jump, and his breath caught in his throat.

“See?” Gojo whispered to him, his voice low but teasing. “You can’t even look at her without getting all flustered. That’s your cue, Nanami. You’re whipped.”

Kento could only nod stiffly, his eyes following you as you walked past, his mind a flurry of thoughts he couldn’t quiet. Was he really being obvious? Was it possible that everyone could see it, even if he couldn’t bring himself to admit it?

You smiled at him, and something in Kento’s chest seemed to tighten. The world around him seemed to fade out for a moment, leaving only the soft sound of your laughter and the memory of your smile.

“Hey, Nanami,” you called, your voice light and carefree, like always. “You going to hang out with us later? There’s a movie marathon at my place.”

For a moment, Kento just stood there, unable to form a coherent thought. You were inviting him. You were inviting him to spend time with you. And that was when it hit him—the overwhelming flood of realization. It wasn’t just admiration. It wasn’t just a passing fancy. He liked you. He liked you in a way that felt like something real.

And the worst part? He was terrified. Terrified of what it meant, terrified of what would happen if he told you. He was sure of one thing, though—he couldn’t hide this feeling much longer.

“You should go,” Suguru said with a grin, nudging Kento in the ribs. “She’s waiting.”

Kento barely heard him. The only thing he could hear was the quiet pounding of his own heart, louder now than the teasing laughter of his friends.

“I’ll think about it,” he said finally, his voice softer than he intended.

You waved again, and for the first time, Kento didn’t feel the need to look away. He simply smiled back at you, quietly acknowledging the truth that he couldn’t deny anymore.

————

age 15: where the earth breathes life

The sky stretched endlessly above Jujutsu Sorcerer High, painted in hues of late-afternoon gold. A faint breeze swept across the training grounds, tugging at the edges of uniforms and sending whispers through the surrounding trees. Kento Nanami stood in the shade of one such tree, its branches sprawling like outstretched arms, a quiet sanctuary from the relentless sun.

His friends, Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto, were animated as ever, their voices blending into the hum of cicadas and the distant clash of training spells.

“Okay, okay, hear me out,” Gojo said, reclining against the base of the tree with his arms tucked behind his head. His infinity field shimmered faintly around him, a subtle but constant reminder of his strength. “If you had my technique—limitless and the Six Eyes—what’s the first thing you’d do with it?”

Suguru chuckled, twirling a loose strand of his dark hair between his fingers. “I wouldn’t waste it showing off like you, that’s for sure.”

“Showing off?” Gojo sat up straight, mock-offended. “I don’t show off. I demonstrate my genius. There’s a difference.”

Nanami exhaled through his nose, a small, barely perceptible laugh escaping him. He wasn’t one to get caught up in their endless banter, but their dynamic always managed to lighten the weight of the world they carried.

“And what about you, Nanami?” Suguru turned to him, tilting his head in genuine curiosity. “What would you do if your Ratio Technique wasn’t bound by limitations?”

Kento thought for a moment, his gaze fixed on the horizon. “It’s not about pushing boundaries for the sake of power,” he said quietly. “It’s about precision. Control. Efficiency.”

“Always so serious,” Gojo teased, leaning closer with a grin. “You know, Nanami, you might actually smile if you loosened up a little.”

Before Kento could reply, the breeze shifted, carrying with it a faint, sweet scent—earthy, alive, and tinged with something floral. It was subtle at first, but it drew his attention like a thread pulling him toward something unseen.

“Do you smell that?” Suguru asked, straightening up.

Gojo sniffed the air dramatically. “Yeah, smells like…” He paused, his grin widening. “(Y/N).”

Kento froze. Your name landed like a weight in his chest, tugging at something he wasn’t prepared to confront. He followed the direction of the breeze, his eyes narrowing as he spotted a figure in the distance, standing at the edge of the practice field.

It was you.

You were alone, your back turned to them, your posture relaxed yet purposeful. Your hands hovered over the ground, and as Kento watched, a faint glow of cursed energy began to pulse around you. The energy wasn’t sharp or chaotic like so many techniques he’d seen before. It was soft, flowing, and alive, like the rhythm of a heartbeat.

He stepped away from the tree, drawn toward you before he realized what he was doing. Gojo and Suguru exchanged knowing looks but said nothing, letting him go.

From his vantage point, Kento could see the ground beneath your feet begin to change. Where there had been only dry earth and sparse grass, something miraculous began to bloom. A single green sprout pushed through the soil, followed by another, and another, until a field of lush wildflowers surrounded you, their vibrant colors swaying gently in the breeze.

But it didn’t stop there.

With a graceful wave of your hand, vines erupted from the earth, twisting and curling as they reached toward the sky. Trees grew in fast-forward, their trunks thickening and branches spreading wide, leaves unfurling in shades of deep green. It was as if the earth itself responded to your call, breathing life into the barren space around you.

Kento’s breath caught in his throat.

He’d seen you practice before, of course. You were a gifted sorcerer, your nature manipulation technique as unique as it was beautiful. But this—this was different. There was something about the way you moved, the way your cursed energy flowed so effortlessly into the earth, that left him completely captivated.

Your face was serene, your focus absolute. Strands of your hair caught the sunlight, glowing like molten gold, and your expression—calm yet determined—was unlike anything he’d ever seen. You weren’t just commanding the earth; you were connected to it, in a way that felt almost sacred.

“Wow,” Gojo whispered from behind him, breaking the spell. “She’s something else, huh?”

Kento didn’t respond. His eyes remained fixed on you, unable to look away.

Suguru leaned against the tree, his arms crossed. “You know, Nanami,” he said, his voice teasing but quiet, “if you stare any harder, you might actually set her on fire.”

“Shut up,” Kento muttered, though there was no real heat in his words.

The vines you’d summoned began to move, twisting together to form intricate shapes—arches, spirals, and patterns so delicate they looked like lace. Then, with a flick of your wrist, the vines shot forward, striking a nearby training dummy with enough force to shatter it into pieces.

You stepped back, breathing hard, your shoulders rising and falling with the effort. The glow of your cursed energy began to fade, but the beauty you’d created remained—a lush oasis of life where there had once been only barren earth.

Kento felt something stir deep within him, a feeling he couldn’t quite name. It was more than admiration, more than respect for your skill. It was a quiet awe, a sense of wonder that left him both exhilarated and terrified.

You turned then, as if sensing his presence, your eyes meeting his across the field. For a moment, the world seemed to fall away, leaving only the two of you. You smiled—a small, shy smile—and Kento felt his chest tighten, his heart pounding like the rhythm of a distant drum.

“Hey, Nanami,” you called, your voice light but steady. “How long have you been standing there?”

He opened his mouth to respond but found himself at a loss for words. How could he explain the way he felt, the way you seemed to make the earth itself come alive?

“Not long,” he said finally, his voice quieter than he intended.

You nodded, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “Just practicing,” you said, as if what you’d done was the most natural thing in the world.

Kento nodded, his hands tightening into fists at his sides. He wanted to say something more, something meaningful, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, he stood there, letting the silence stretch between you, filled with all the things he couldn’t say.

“You’re incredible,” he wanted to tell you. “You make the world look different. Brighter. Alive.”

But he didn’t say any of that. Instead, he watched as you turned back to your practice, the glow of your energy lighting up the field once more.

Behind him, Gojo and Suguru snickered quietly, their whispers lost in the breeze. But Kento didn’t care.

For the first time, he realized that his feelings for you weren’t just a passing infatuation. They were rooted deep, like the vines you summoned from the earth—strong, unyielding, and impossible to ignore.

And as he stood there, watching you shape the world with your hands, he couldn’t help but wonder if you had already shaped him, too.

————

age 16: the weight of mortality

The rain had stopped hours ago, but the ground remained slick and treacherous as Kento Nanami and you navigated the forest. The air hung heavy, dense with the clinging scent of wet earth and decayed wood. Shadows twisted unnaturally among the trees, their gnarled branches clawing at the sky like broken hands.

“We should’ve run into it by now,” Kento muttered, his voice low, wary. His grip on his weapon tightened as his eyes scanned the path ahead.

“It’s close,” you said, your voice steadier than his. You knelt beside a patch of disturbed earth, fingers brushing the mud. There was no mistaking the lingering traces of malevolent cursed energy. “It’s watching us. Waiting.”

That was what unnerved Kento the most. The curse was grade one, and grade one curses didn’t wait. They attacked with reckless fury, their hatred for humanity so consuming they couldn’t hold themselves back. But this one—this one was different. It was intelligent.

“We need to keep moving,” he said, extending a hand to help you to your feet. The touch was brief, professional, but his heart still skipped in its chest.

You nodded, falling in step beside him, the soft glow of your cursed energy forming a protective aura around you. It lit the path ahead, a faint beacon against the encroaching dark, but Kento knew it was also a lure. The curse would come for it—would come for you.

And then the forest stilled.

Every sound vanished at once: the rustling leaves, the distant calls of night birds, even the faint hum of the wind. It was as though the entire world held its breath. Kento stopped in his tracks, holding an arm out in front of you.

“Kento?” you whispered.

He didn’t respond. His eyes narrowed, scanning the trees for any flicker of movement. The silence was oppressive, pressing against his ears like a scream held just out of reach. His body tensed, every muscle coiled like a spring.

Then, it came.

The curse emerged from the shadows with terrifying speed, a blur of jagged limbs and gleaming fangs. Its body twisted grotesquely, its long, spindly arms ending in claws that glistened like obsidian. Its head was almost human, but its eyes burned with a sickly yellow light, and its mouth stretched into an unnatural grin.

“Move!” Kento barked, pushing you to the side as the curse’s claws slashed through the space where you’d been standing.

The fight began in a whirlwind of chaos.

The curse was fast, faster than anything they’d anticipated. It darted between the trees, its movements erratic and impossible to predict. Kento swung his weapon, his Ratio Technique flashing as he aimed for its weak points, but the creature twisted out of reach with an agility that defied logic.

You were already in motion, your cursed energy flaring as you summoned vines from the earth. They erupted from the ground like serpents, coiling and snapping toward the curse in an attempt to restrain it. For a moment, it worked—the vines wrapped around its limbs, tightening like chains.

“Kento, now!” you shouted.

He lunged forward, his blade slicing through the air with deadly precision. The curse shrieked as the blade connected, severing one of its arms. But instead of retreating, it retaliated, its remaining claw slashing at him with feral intensity. Kento barely had time to raise his weapon to block, the force of the impact sending him staggering back.

The vines began to wither, the curse’s malevolent energy eating away at them. With a violent roar, it broke free, its twisted body writhing with rage. It turned its glowing eyes on you, and Kento felt his stomach drop.

“Get back!” he shouted, but it was too late.

The curse moved faster than he could, its clawed hand striking you with bone-crushing force. You were thrown into the air like a rag doll, your body colliding with the trunk of a tree before crumpling to the ground.

“(Y/N)!”

Kento’s voice cracked as he ran to you, his heart pounding in his chest. You lay motionless, your breathing shallow, blood seeping from a gash on your forehead. Your cursed energy flickered weakly, the once-brilliant glow reduced to a faint shimmer.

“Stay with me,” Kento said, dropping to his knees beside you. He didn’t dare shake you, afraid of causing more harm. “Can you hear me? (Y/N), look at me.”

Your eyes fluttered open, unfocused but alive. “I’m… fine,” you whispered, though the words were barely audible.

“You’re not fine,” he snapped, his voice trembling with barely contained panic. “Don’t move. Just stay still.”

Behind him, the curse let out a guttural growl, its twisted form shifting as it prepared to strike again. Kento turned, his jaw tightening as he rose to his feet. His body ached from the earlier blows, but he ignored the pain. He couldn’t afford to falter.

The curse lunged, and Kento met it head-on. His movements were sharp, deliberate, every strike calculated with the precision he’d spent years perfecting. But the creature was relentless, its hatred radiating from it in waves. It clawed and snapped, its attacks wild yet devastatingly powerful.

Kento ducked beneath one of its strikes, his blade slashing upward to sever another limb. The curse screamed, its body convulsing as black ichor spilled from the wound. But even maimed, it fought with a ferocity that made Kento’s blood run cold.

It was toying with him, he realized. It wanted to drag this out, to prolong their suffering.

Kento’s anger flared, hot and consuming. “You don’t get to win,” he growled, his voice low and venomous.

With a surge of cursed energy, he activated his Ratio Technique, his blade glowing with a golden light. He lunged forward, his movements swift and precise, and drove the blade deep into the curse’s chest.

The creature let out one final, ear-splitting shriek before its body disintegrated into ash.

The silence that followed was suffocating. Kento stood there for a moment, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. The glow of his cursed energy faded, leaving him in the dim light of the forest.

Then he turned back to you.

You were still slumped against the tree, your eyes half-closed and your breathing shallow. Kento’s heart twisted at the sight of you, so small and fragile against the towering trunk. He dropped to his knees beside you, his hands trembling as they hovered over your injuries.

“You’re an idiot,” he said, his voice breaking.

You blinked up at him, your lips curling into a faint smile. “Nice to see you, too.”

“I’m serious,” Kento said, his hands finally resting on either side of your face, his touch gentle despite the turmoil raging inside him. “You could’ve died. Do you understand that?”

You didn’t respond, and for a moment, the weight of his words hung heavy between you.

“I can’t…” Kento’s voice faltered, his throat tightening. He closed his eyes, taking a shaky breath before continuing. “I can’t lose you, (Y/N). I—” He stopped himself, the words catching in his throat.

He couldn’t say it. Not yet.

Instead, he let his actions speak for him, his touch tender as he began to bandage your wounds with shaking hands. His care was deliberate, almost reverent, as if tending to you was the only thing keeping him grounded.

You reached up, placing a weak hand over his. “I’m okay,” you said softly. “Really.”

But Kento shook his head, his jaw clenched. “You’re not okay,” he said. “You’re hurt, and it’s because you refuse to think about yourself. You’re always so focused on everyone else, and one day, it’s going to get you killed.”

You smiled faintly, your eyes meeting his. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Well, you did,” he said, his voice cracking despite his efforts to stay composed.

For a moment, the two of you sat in silence, the only sound the faint rustling of leaves in the wind. Kento’s hands lingered on yours, his grip firm but comforting.

“I care about you, (Y/N),” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “More than I can explain. So please… don’t ever do something like that again. I wouldn’t—” He stopped himself, swallowing hard. “I wouldn’t be able to handle it.”

You gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, your smile soft and tired. “I’ll try,” you said. “For you.”

And though the words were simple, they carried a weight that left Kento breathless. He didn’t know how to tell you the depth of what he felt, didn’t know how to put into words the way you seemed to fill the cracks in his carefully constructed world.

So he stayed silent, his hands still cradling yours, silently vowing to protect you—no matter the cost.

————

age 17: gravity, giggles, and grace(or lack of thereof)

The late afternoon sunlight poured through the windows of Jujutsu High’s ancient halls, casting golden streaks on the scuffed tiles. You and Kento Nanami walked side by side, a stack of textbooks in his arms and your hands swinging freely at your sides.

“Okay, Nanami, answer me this,” you began, already grinning. “Why do you carry your books like that? Are you afraid they’ll run away if you don’t keep them in a death grip?”

Kento, ever composed, arched an eyebrow without breaking his stride. “It’s practical. Less risk of them slipping.”

You rolled your eyes. “Practical. You are the human embodiment of that word. Do you dream about practicality, too? Like, ‘Oh, what an efficient cloud formation tonight!’”

There it was—the faintest twitch of his lips. A Nanami half-smile, as rare as a sunny day during monsoon season. “I’ll have you know I’ve never once dreamed about clouds.”

“Ah, right,” you said, nodding solemnly. “Your dreams are probably about perfectly portioned bread loaves.”

Kento stopped walking, turning to you with an expression caught between amusement and exasperation. “Do you even listen to yourself when you talk?”

“Constantly,” you replied with mock pride. “It’s part of my charm.”

He let out a soft huff, adjusting the books under his arm. “I don’t know how I let myself get roped into this.”

“Because I’m delightful,” you said, spinning around so you could walk backward and grin at him. “Admit it, Nanami. Studying with me is the best part of your week.”

“I admit nothing.”

“Oh, you love me,” you teased, waggling your eyebrows.

Kento was about to retort, probably with some dry remark, but you didn’t give him the chance. Too busy laughing at your own antics, you didn’t notice the top step of the staircase behind you.

And then—gravity intervened.

Your foot slipped, and for a split second, you felt the universe itself betray you. Arms flailing, you let out a startled squeal, your body tipping backward.

“(Y/N)!” Kento shouted, lunging toward you.

It was a valiant effort, really. His arm shot out with all the precision of his Ratio Technique. But fate, or perhaps just bad timing, was not on his side. His fingertips brushed your sleeve—just enough to not catch you.

You tumbled backward down the stairs in a whirlwind of arms, legs, and increasingly hysterical giggles.

It should’ve been a scene of chaos, maybe even concern, but instead, laughter erupted from your lips as you hit step after step. “Oh noooo!” you cried between fits of uncontrollable snickering, your voice bouncing off the walls.

“Are you serious?!” Kento shouted from the top of the staircase, staring down at you in absolute disbelief. “How are you laughing right now?”

Your body finally came to a halt at the bottom of the stairs, where you sprawled out like a starfish. There was a brief silence—save for your wheezing giggles—and then you erupted again, full-bodied and tear-inducing.

“Oh my—Nanami!” you managed, clutching your stomach. “Did you see that? I just—I went full acrobat mode!”

He was down the stairs in three long strides, his books abandoned somewhere behind him. Dropping to one knee beside you, Kento hovered uncertainly, his hands ghosting over your arms and legs. “Are you okay? Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Oh, I’m peachy!” you replied through your laughter, flopping dramatically onto your back. “Ten out of ten! Would recommend falling down a flight of stairs to anyone!”

His lips twitched again, the corners threatening to pull into a smile. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And you’re the worst catcher ever!” you countered, sitting up and pointing at him accusingly. “What happened to your vaunted precision? Your super reflexes? Did you even try?”

Kento’s mouth opened in protest, but then he hesitated. “I—well—”

“Oh no, you don’t get to explain your failure!” You doubled over, laughing so hard your face turned red. “Your face—oh my God, Kento—your face when I fell! You looked like someone just insulted bread!”

That did it. A chuckle slipped past his defenses, quiet at first, but then it grew. The usually unflappable Kento Nanami let out a full-bodied laugh, deep and rich and entirely uncharacteristic.

“Don’t make me laugh,” he said, though he didn’t sound remotely serious.

“But it’s so easy!” you shot back, tears streaming down your face as you wiped them away.

Kento leaned back against the wall, his laughter mixing with yours in the echoing hallway. It was contagious—every time you started to calm down, one look at his rare, genuine smile sent you spiraling into giggles again.

“I still can’t believe you’re okay,” he said after a while, shaking his head in disbelief. “You fell like… twelve steps.”

“I told you, I’m made of steel,” you said, flexing an imaginary bicep. “Nothing can take me down.”

“Except stairs.”

“Except stairs,” you agreed, grinning.

The two of you stayed on the floor for a while, leaning against each other as the last remnants of laughter faded into the warm quiet of the hallway. The sunlight streamed in, illuminating the dust motes swirling in the air, and for a moment, everything felt light.

“Thank you for trying to catch me,” you said after a while, glancing over at him.

He shrugged, his expression soft but unreadable. “I’ll catch you next time.”

“You better,” you teased, nudging his shoulder.

And as you both sat there, side by side at the bottom of the stairs, Kento let himself relax. Your laughter was still ringing in his ears, and for the first time in a long while, he thought: Maybe the world isn’t so heavy after all.

————

age 18: the words that wouldn’t come

The golden hues of the setting sun bathed the grounds of Jujutsu High in a dreamlike light, illuminating every blade of grass, every stone, and every goodbye exchanged in hushed tones. The ceremony had concluded hours ago, the caps tossed, the congratulations shared. And yet, the air hummed with lingering anticipation, as if the day hadn’t truly ended.

You and Kento Nanami stood at the edge of the training field, where countless battles had unfolded, where victories and bruises were won in equal measure. Now, it was quiet, the echoes of sparring matches and laughter replaced by a solemn stillness.

“Well,” you said, breaking the silence, your voice light and teasing as always. “That’s it. We survived.”

Kento looked at you, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, his tall frame still and composed. But there was a tension to him, something barely concealed under the ever-present calm he wore like armor.

“We did,” he said simply, his tone even, his gaze steady.

“You don’t sound very thrilled,” you teased, nudging his arm. “Come on, Nanami. It’s over. No more grueling training sessions, no more Yaga yelling at us to get up at the crack of dawn. Aren’t you even a little excited?”

“I don’t think ‘excited’ is the right word,” he replied, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Of course not. You’d probably use something like… ‘adequately satisfied with the progression of events.’”

That earned a soft huff from him—half a laugh, half a sigh. It was a sound you’d grown to love over the years, even if he didn’t realize how often he made it when you were around.

The breeze picked up, carrying with it the faint scent of blooming flowers from the nearby garden. You turned your face to the wind, closing your eyes for a moment and letting the cool air brush against your skin.

Kento, standing just a step away, watched you quietly. There was something about the way the light caught in your hair, the way your expression softened in the glow of the setting sun, that made his chest tighten.

“I need to say something,” he said suddenly, the words slipping out before he could stop them.

You opened your eyes and turned to him, your brows lifting in curiosity. “What’s up?”

He hesitated, his fingers twitching at his sides. How did one even begin to explain years of unspoken feelings? How did he tell you that you weren’t just a friend to him, that you hadn’t been for a long time?

“I’ve been thinking about what’s next,” he started, his voice low but steady. “Now that we’ve graduated, things are going to change.”

“Well, yeah,” you said, leaning against the old wooden fence that bordered the field. “That’s kind of the whole point. Change is good, right?”

“Not always.”

There was a weight to his words that made you pause. Your teasing smile faded, replaced by a look of quiet concern. “Kento, what’s wrong?”

He looked at you then, his gaze searching, as if trying to find the courage he so desperately needed.

“I just… I’ve been meaning to tell you something,” he said, his voice faltering slightly. “For a while now.”

You tilted your head, waiting patiently. But that was the problem—you were always so patient, so kind, and it made this even harder.

Kento exhaled, dragging a hand through his hair. “I—” He stopped, the words catching in his throat. How could he say it without ruining everything? Without changing the way you looked at him, the way you smiled so easily in his presence?

“You…?” you prompted, your brow furrowed in confusion.

He clenched his fists at his sides, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. For all his precision, for all his calculated movements, this was something he couldn’t master.

“It’s nothing,” he said finally, his tone clipped.

Your frown deepened. “Nanami, come on. You’ve clearly got something on your mind. Just say it.”

“I said it’s nothing,” he repeated, his voice sharper this time. But then, as if realizing he’d spoken too harshly, he softened. “Forget it. It doesn’t matter.”

You stared at him for a long moment, your lips pressing into a thin line. “If it didn’t matter, you wouldn’t have brought it up,” you said quietly.

He looked away, his jaw tightening. He hated this—the way he couldn’t find the right words, the way his heart betrayed him every time he tried to speak.

“I just wanted to say… thank you,” he said finally, though it felt like a coward’s escape.

“For what?” you asked, your voice softening.

“For everything,” he said, meeting your gaze at last. “For being you. For sticking by me all these years.”

A faint smile tugged at your lips. “Well, yeah. Of course. What are friends for?”

Friends.

The word hit him like a blow, and he swallowed hard against the lump in his throat.

“Yeah,” he said, forcing a small smile. “Friends.”

You seemed satisfied with that, your usual grin returning as you reached out to lightly punch his arm. “You’re such a weirdo sometimes, Nanami. But you’re my weirdo, I guess.”

The words warmed and stung in equal measure, and all he could do was nod.

“Come on,” you said, pushing off the fence and gesturing toward the main building. “The others are probably wondering where we are.”

He followed you without a word, his heart heavy with everything left unsaid.

As you walked ahead, chatting about Gojo’s ridiculous antics or Suguru’s latest half-serious plan to prank Yaga, Kento allowed himself one stolen glance at you. The way you moved, carefree and full of light, the way your laughter seemed to fill the air—it was unbearable and beautiful all at once.

He clenched his fists, the words he couldn’t say swirling in his chest like a storm.

One day, he promised himself. One day, I’ll tell you.

But today wasn’t that day. And as much as it hurt, he knew he’d wait as long as it took.

————

age 20: the rift between us

The café was nearly empty, a quiet refuge from the torrential downpour outside. Rain cascaded down the windows, blurring the world into a wash of grays and silvers. The air inside was warm, thick with the scent of roasted coffee beans and something bittersweet—regret, maybe, or something close to it.

You sat across from Kento Nanami, your hands curled around a mug that had long since gone cold. His gaze was fixed on the table, tracing the grain of the wood as though it might tell him how to explain the mess inside his head.

“So, that’s it?” you asked, your voice low but sharp, each word a carefully aimed dart. “You’re quitting.”

Kento didn’t look up, his fingers tightening around his own mug. The coffee in it remained untouched. “I’ve made my decision,” he said finally, his voice even, too even. “This life… it’s not sustainable.”

The calm in his tone infuriated you, made the ache in your chest twist into something hotter, sharper. “Not sustainable?” you repeated, your voice rising slightly. “That’s what you’re going with? After everything we’ve been through, everything we’ve built together—‘not sustainable’ is your excuse?”

“It’s not an excuse,” he said quietly, still refusing to meet your eyes.

You leaned forward, your hands trembling now, whether from anger or desperation you couldn’t tell. “Then what is it, Kento? What is this if not you running away?”

His jaw tightened, a flicker of something—guilt, perhaps—crossing his face before his mask of composure slipped back into place. “I’m not running away,” he said, the words clipped. “I’m making a choice. A rational choice.”

“And I’m just supposed to accept that?” you shot back, your voice breaking despite your best efforts to hold it steady. “I’m supposed to just sit here and watch you throw everything away? Watch you throw us away?”

At that, his head snapped up, his eyes meeting yours for the first time. There was something raw there, something unspoken and unsteady, and it made your breath catch.

“This isn’t about us,” he said, his voice softer now, almost pleading. “It’s about me. About what I can handle—what I can’t handle.”

“You can’t handle this anymore?” you asked, your voice trembling. “Fine. But did you even think about what this means for the rest of us? For me? Did you even consider—”

“Of course I considered it!” he interrupted, his voice rising for the first time, startling you. “Do you think this was an easy decision for me? Do you think I wanted to walk away?”

“Then why are you?” you demanded, the words tumbling out before you could stop them.

“Because I can’t keep doing this!” he shouted, the frustration in his voice cutting through the thick air between you. “I can’t keep waking up every day wondering if it’s going to be my last. I can’t keep watching people I care about—people I love—throw themselves into danger over and over again.”

His words hung in the air, heavy and unrelenting, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. The rain outside seemed louder now, a relentless drumming that matched the pounding of your heart.

“This life,” he continued, his voice quieter now but no less intense, “it’s a death sentence. You know that as well as I do. And I can’t—I won’t—let it consume me.”

You stared at him, your chest heaving, your hands trembling around your mug. “So that’s it,” you said finally, your voice hollow. “You’re leaving because you’re scared.”

“It’s not fear,” he said, his tone defensive. But the flicker of something in his eyes—something vulnerable, something fragile—betrayed him.

“Then what is it, Kento?” you pressed, your voice rising again. “Because all I see right now is someone who’s running from everything he’s ever cared about.”

“I’m not running,” he said, his voice strained. “I’m trying to survive.”

“And what about the rest of us?” you asked, your voice breaking now. “What about me? Do you think I don’t want to survive too? Do you think I don’t dream about a life where I don’t have to fight, where I don’t have to wonder if the next mission will be my last?”

He didn’t answer, his silence more damning than any words he could have said.

“But I don’t get to walk away,” you continued, your voice trembling. “Because if I do, then all of this—all the pain, all the loss—it’ll have been for nothing.”

“You don’t have to keep doing this,” he said softly, his eyes pleading. “You don’t have to sacrifice yourself for a world that doesn’t care.”

“And you think the corporate world is going to care about you?” you shot back, bitterness creeping into your tone. “You think pushing papers and chasing profits is going to fill the void you’re running from?”

His face hardened, his hands curling into fists on the table. “At least it’s a life,” he said.

“Is it?” you asked, leaning forward. “Or is it just a way to numb yourself from everything you’re too afraid to face?”

The words struck like a blow, and you saw the flicker of pain in his eyes before he looked away.

“I can’t do this anymore,” he said quietly, his voice barely audible over the rain.

Your breath hitched, the weight of his words settling in your chest like a stone. You wanted to scream, to cry, to shake him until he understood what he was throwing away. But instead, you swallowed the lump in your throat and forced yourself to speak.

“Fine,” you said, your voice steady despite the tears threatening to spill. “If you’re so eager to leave, then go. But don’t expect me to wait around while you figure out what you’re running from.”

“What are you saying?” he asked, his voice tight, his composure finally cracking.

“I’m saying I can’t do this either,” you said, standing abruptly. “I’m taking a long-term mission in the States. A year, maybe two. Maybe longer. I need space, Kento. From you, from all of this.”

His eyes widened, panic flickering across his face. “(Y/N), wait—”

“No,” you said, cutting him off. “You made your choice. Now I’m making mine.”

You turned and walked away, the sound of the rain swallowing the sound of your footsteps.

Kento sat frozen, his chest heaving, his heart pounding against his ribs. He wanted to call after you, to stop you, to say something—anything—that might make you stay. But the words wouldn’t come.

And as the door closed behind you, the weight of what he’d done crashed down on him, suffocating in its finality.

He sat there long after you were gone, the rain outside a relentless reminder of the storm he had unleashed. He told himself he had made the right choice, that this was the only way. But as the silence pressed in around him, all he could feel was the aching void where you had been.

And for the first time, Kento Nanami wondered if survival was worth the cost of losing you.

————

age 22: a call across the ages

The sun was setting on a city Kento Nanami had never intended to visit. It was a business trip—nothing more, nothing less. The skyline of Chicago stretched out in front of him, jagged and unfamiliar, a maze of concrete and glass that seemed to mirror the labyrinth inside his chest. The golden light painted everything in soft hues, but for him, the world felt muted, heavy with the weight of things unsaid and undone.

Two years. Two long, quiet, endless years since he’d last seen you. Two years since you had walked out of that café, your eyes filled with tears he hadn’t been able to stop. You had left for America, and with you, you had taken a part of him he hadn’t realized he’d given away until it was gone.

The first few months had been unbearable. He’d asked Gojo, Suguru, even Shoko, where you were, how you were doing. Every time, he was met with silence or vague reassurances that you were fine. He had stopped asking after a while, realizing that they were protecting you from him—or perhaps protecting him from himself.

Life had become a series of routines after that. Wake up. Go to work. Pretend not to miss you with every breath. But now, standing in the shadow of a foreign city, something stirred in him, a restlessness that had been dormant for far too long.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, jolting him out of his thoughts. He frowned, pulling it out to see an unfamiliar number lighting up the screen.

“Hello?” he answered, his voice steady but distant, as though the call were just another part of his endless routine.

What he heard on the other end shattered that façade instantly.

“K-Kento…” Your voice was barely a whisper, broken and raw, like shattered glass scraping against stone.

His breath caught. For a moment, he thought he might be dreaming. But then you spoke again, and the panic in your voice was unmistakable.

“Kento, I—I’m sorry. I didn’t know who else to call. I—” A sharp gasp cut through your words, and he could hear your ragged breathing, the tremor in your voice that made his stomach twist into knots.

“(Y/N)?” he said, his voice sharper now, the calm businessman replaced by something far more primal. “What’s going on? Where are you?”

“I—I tried,” you sobbed, the words tumbling out in a rush. “I tried so hard, but I couldn’t… I couldn’t do it without you. I thought I could, but I can’t. Kento, it’s too much. It’s too much—”

“Slow down,” he said, his heart pounding so hard it felt like it might burst. “Tell me where you are.”

“I don’t know,” you cried, your voice trembling. “I’m hiding—I don’t even know where—there’s this curse, and I tried to exorcise it, I tried, but it’s too strong. I’m so tired, Kento. I can’t do it alone anymore. I can’t—”

His free hand clenched into a fist, his nails digging into his palm as he forced himself to stay calm. “Listen to me,” he said, his voice firm but gentle. “You’re not alone. I’m here. I’ll find you, (Y/N). Just hold on.”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice so small it made his chest ache. “I’m sorry for everything. I—I never should have left. I never should have let you go.”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” he said, his voice breaking despite himself. “Just stay with me. Keep talking. I need to know you’re okay.”

The city’s shadows grew longer as Kento Nanami sprinted through the streets, his coat billowing behind him. The call still echoed in his ears, your trembling voice, fractured and desperate. His heart felt like it had been torn from his chest, dangling by a fragile thread as he raced against time. Two years of silence, of unspoken longing, and now your voice—broken and pleading—was the only thing tethering him to the present.

His breath came fast, the ache in his legs a distant memory compared to the pounding in his chest.

“(Y/N), where are you?” His voice was sharper now, teetering on the edge of panic.

“I—I don’t know,” you stammered, the sounds of labored breaths and distant crashes filling the line. “It’s dark, Kento. I don’t know where I am anymore. I’m so sorry—I thought I could handle it, I really did, but it’s too much.”

“I’m coming for you,” he said, his voice low and trembling with determination. “Stay on the line. Tell me what you see.”

Another crash sounded on your end, louder this time, followed by your muffled cry. “I don’t think I can make it, Kento. I’m so tired,” you whispered, each word cracking like glass against his ears.

“Don’t you dare give up,” he growled, his voice harsh but laced with fear. “Just hold on. I’m coming, I swear.”

The line went dead.

“No!” he shouted, the emptiness on the other end making his stomach plummet. His cursed energy flared unconsciously, his body moving on instinct as he followed the faint traces of cursed energy in the air. He didn’t have time to think, didn’t have the luxury to wonder what would happen if he was too late.

He wouldn’t let himself be too late.

The abandoned warehouse loomed ahead, a decaying monolith at the edge of the city. The cursed energy here was suffocating, a rancid, tangible thing that coiled around him like smoke. He pushed forward, his teeth gritted, his body tense with anticipation.

Inside, the dim light barely illuminated the chaos. Splintered wood and shattered glass littered the floor. The walls were smeared with dark, claw-like marks. And then, he saw you.

You were crumpled in the corner, your body trembling, your hands pressed weakly against the ground as if trying to summon cursed energy you no longer had. The faint glow of your nature manipulation flickered and died, and a monstrous, hulking curse loomed above you, its grotesque form pulsating with power.

“(Y/N)!” he yelled, his voice cracking as he rushed toward you.

Your head lifted weakly, your eyes dazed and unfocused. “Kento…” you murmured, your voice so soft it barely reached him.

Before he could reach you, the curse lunged. Its claws sliced through the air, forcing him to dive to the side. He rolled to his feet, his cursed energy crackling around him like lightning as he turned to face the creature.

“You don’t touch her,” he growled, his voice low and filled with fury.

The curse roared in response, its twisted form shifting as it charged at him. Kento met it head-on, his blade slicing through the air with precision honed over years of practice. Sparks flew as the curse’s claws met his weapon, the impact sending shockwaves through the room.

The fight was brutal, every strike a test of his endurance, every movement a desperate attempt to keep the curse away from you. His breaths came in ragged gasps, sweat dripping down his face as he fought with everything he had.

But the curse was relentless. It struck with terrifying speed, its claws narrowly missing his chest as he dodged and countered. Blood splattered across the ground as one of its strikes grazed his arm, the pain sharp and immediate.

“Kento…” your voice, faint but urgent, pulled his focus.

He glanced back at you, his heart clenching at the sight of your pale, trembling form. The curse took advantage of his distraction, its massive arm swinging toward him. He barely managed to block the blow, the force of it sending him skidding across the floor.

For a moment, he faltered. The weight of the fight, the fear of losing you, pressed down on him like a crushing tide.

Then he saw you, your eyes locked on his, a flicker of trust and desperation in your gaze. And something inside him snapped.

With a roar, he surged forward, his cursed energy exploding around him in a blinding burst. He struck the curse with everything he had, his blade cutting through its grotesque form like a scythe through wheat. Blow after blow, he fought with a ferocity that surprised even himself.

Finally, with one last, devastating strike, the curse disintegrated into nothingness, its screams fading into the stillness of the warehouse.

Kento turned to you, his chest heaving, his body trembling from the effort. He dropped to his knees beside you, his hands hovering uncertainly before finally resting gently on your shoulders.

“(Y/N),” he said, his voice breaking. “Are you okay? Can you hear me?”

Your eyes fluttered open, your lips curving into the faintest of smiles. “You came,” you whispered, your voice so weak it was almost inaudible.

“Of course, I came,” he said, his voice trembling. “I’ll always come for you.”

Tears welled in your eyes, spilling over as you tried to speak. “I’m sorry,” you said, your voice cracking. “I shouldn’t have left. I shouldn’t have let you go. I—I thought I could do it on my own, but I can’t. I can’t do anything without you.”

His breath hitched, his chest tightening as the weight of your words settled over him. “Don’t you dare say that,” he said, his voice firm but filled with emotion. “You are the strongest person I know. But you don’t have to do it alone anymore. I’m here, (Y/N). I’m here.”

You reached out, your hand trembling as it brushed against his cheek. “I missed you,” you said, your voice barely a whisper. “Every day, I missed you.”

He closed his eyes, leaning into your touch as tears slipped down his face. “I missed you too,” he said, his voice shaking. “More than you’ll ever know.”

He took a deep, shuddering breath, the words he had kept locked away for years finally breaking free. “I’ve loved you for so long, (Y/N). Since we were kids, since the moment I realized how incredible you are. Every smile, every laugh, every moment we’ve spent together has been etched into my heart. And when you left…” His voice cracked, and he took another breath, his hands tightening on your shoulders. “When you left, it felt like I lost a part of myself. But I was too much of a coward to tell you.”

Your tears fell freely now, your gaze locked on his as you listened to every word.

“I don’t deserve you,” he continued, his voice soft but resolute. “But if you’ll let me, I’ll spend the rest of my life making up for the time we lost. I love you, (Y/N). I always have, and I always will.”

You let out a soft, choked laugh, your tears mixing with your smile. “You’re such an idiot,” you said, your voice trembling with emotion. “I’ve loved you all this time too, you fool. How could you not see it?”

Kento felt his heart stop at the words, like a dam breaking free of its restraints. The words he had kept buried for years, those painful truths that he never allowed himself to speak, were now spilling out, mingling with the soft echoes of your confession.

“You—” His voice wavered as he looked down at you, disbelief still playing in the edges of his mind. He never imagined this moment would come like this. But there you were, staring at him with eyes full of tenderness, the very same gaze that had haunted him for so long, and now it was his. All his. “You’ve loved me all this time?”

You nodded, your face crumpling slightly as you leaned into his touch, the warmth of it sending a wave of relief crashing over both of you. “Yes. I’ve loved you. I’ve been a fool for thinking I could do it without you. And when you left… when you turned away from the sorcery life… I thought maybe I had lost my chance to tell you how much you meant to me. I thought maybe we were better off apart.” You winced, the truth spilling out raw, as it always did when one was faced with their deepest fears. “But I realized I was wrong. So wrong. Life doesn’t make sense without you in it, Kento. I don’t want to live in a world where you’re not by my side.”

The words hung between you like a delicate thread, and with each passing second, that thread grew stronger, binding you together in a way that nothing else could. Kento’s fingers trembled as they brushed against your skin, pulling you closer in a desperate but tender motion. His hands were shaking, as though he were unsure if this was a dream, unsure if he had finally found his way back to you after years of wandering in the dark.

He leaned in, his forehead resting gently against yours. “I don’t want to live in a world without you either,” he whispered, his breath shaky. “It’s like… like something was always missing. Every day, I felt it. But I couldn’t say it. I couldn’t find the right words. And when you left, I thought maybe I was better off alone. That maybe the life I’d chosen would be enough to bury what I felt.” His voice cracked, and his grip on you tightened. “But every time I thought about you, I realized I was wrong. I can’t live like that. I can’t be without you, not for a single second. You are my world, (Y/N). You’ve been my world for so long, I never knew how to tell you.”

Your hands found his, your fingers intertwining with his as you held on to each other like you might disappear if you didn’t. The air around you was thick with the weight of your confessions, with the unspoken years that had passed in silence, with the tension that had built between you like an unspoken promise. Now, those words you had both held back for so long were finally released, and it was like the entire universe had shifted.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice thick with regret. “I’m so sorry for not telling you sooner. For not realizing it sooner. All this time, I thought I was doing what was right for us, for our futures. But I was wrong.” His breath caught in his throat. “I should’ve been with you, (Y/N). I should’ve been by your side.”

You shook your head, tears spilling from your eyes as you pressed your forehead against his. “No, Kento. No apologies. We were both lost, weren’t we? We were both afraid to speak the truth. Afraid of what it might mean. But now… now we have each other. We’ve found our way back.”

His eyes searched yours, wide with a mix of astonishment and hope. It was as if he were seeing you for the first time again, as if everything he had lived through, every hardship and every silent plea, had led him to this very moment. He felt your heartbeat beneath his hands, steady and strong, matching his own. And, for the first time in years, he felt a sense of peace. A sense of belonging that he hadn’t known since the day he’d let you slip away.

“I love you,” he whispered again, his voice quiet but certain, like a promise made in the depths of his soul. “I love you, (Y/N). More than I ever thought was possible. More than anything. You’re the one I want. You’re the one I’ve always wanted.”

Your heart swelled at the words, the depth of his confession breaking through every wall you had built. “I love you too, Kento,” you breathed, the weight of the years, the heartache, and the loneliness melting away. “I’ve always loved you.”

He closed his eyes for a brief moment, letting the truth sink in, a soft exhale escaping him. When he opened them again, he saw you—his (Y/N), his everything, the only person who had ever truly understood him. The only person who had ever been able to bring the storm inside him to rest.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he promised softly, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “Not again. I won’t let you leave me again.”

You smiled, your heart blooming in your chest. “I’m not going anywhere, Kento. Not this time. Not ever again.”

As the words echoed in the quiet space, time seemed to slow. All the uncertainty, all the regrets, all the lost years fell away. In that moment, nothing else existed but the two of you, standing in the ruins of everything that had tried to pull you apart. And as you stood there, hands clasped tightly together, hearts beating in sync, the curse of the past, the weight of the unspoken, was broken.

For once, it was simple. There were no barriers, no walls, no reasons to keep your distance. The only thing that mattered was the truth that had been there all along—the love between you, undeniable, eternal.

And as Kento pulled you into his arms, holding you close as if he never wanted to let go, he whispered once more, his voice full of wonder, of everything he had never dared to hope for.

“I love you. I’ve always loved you. And I always will.”

And in your arms, you whispered back, your voice soft but strong. “I know, Kento. I know.”

————

age 23: a promise in the garden

The garden was alive in a way that felt almost magical, golden light streaming through the sprawling branches of the ancient oak tree. The air carried the faint hum of life—the rustle of leaves, the soft buzz of insects, and the scent of blooming flowers swaying gently in the breeze. It wasn’t the overgrown wilderness it had been when you were children, nor the empty, desolate space it had become during your years apart. Now, it was vibrant, flourishing—a living testament to patience, hope, and love.

Kento stood beneath the oak, his hands in his pockets, watching as you stepped into the clearing. Your footsteps slowed, then stopped entirely, your gaze sweeping across the scene. The flowers you’d planted together as children were still there, their colors more radiant than ever—wild yellows, purples, and whites scattered among neatly tended beds. The tree’s gnarled roots stretched like a crown beneath it, embracing the earth you’d dug into with small, determined hands so many years ago.

“Kento…” Your voice was soft, almost reverent. “How… how is this possible? It looks—”

“Alive,” he finished for you, his lips curving into the faintest smile. “It’s alive now.”

You turned to him, your expression full of wonder, though your brows knit slightly with confusion. “Did you… do this?”

“I did,” he admitted, stepping closer. His voice was steady, but there was an edge of something else beneath it—nervousness, anticipation, a depth of emotion he could barely contain. “It wasn’t easy. But for you… for us… it was worth it.”

You blinked at him, your eyes softening. “For us?” you repeated, your voice catching slightly on the words.

His hand reached for yours, enveloping it in a warmth that steadied you. He led you to the base of the oak tree, to the small weathered bench that had been there for as long as you could remember. The two of you had sat on that bench countless times—laughing, dreaming, arguing, and, in the quietest moments, simply existing side by side.

The weight of the years pressed down on you as you both sat. For a long moment, there was only silence, broken by the faint rustle of leaves overhead. Kento looked out at the garden, his gaze far away, as if he were sifting through the memories that lingered here.

“This place,” he began, his voice quiet but certain, “has always been ours, hasn’t it? Even when it was nothing but weeds and brambles, it felt like… like it belonged to us.”

You nodded, your fingers brushing over the edge of the bench. “It did,” you agreed. “Even back then, I could see it. The potential. I knew it could be beautiful if we just tried.”

He turned to you, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “You’ve always been able to see things I couldn’t. You looked at this place, at me, and you saw something worth saving.”

Your throat tightened at the quiet reverence in his voice. But before you could respond, he continued, his gaze dropping to the patch of flowers you’d planted so long ago.

“I think that’s when it started for me,” he said softly. “When I realized how extraordinary you were. How you could bring life to things that seemed beyond saving. I didn’t understand it back then. I just knew I wanted to be near you, to see the world the way you did.”

His words hung in the air, heavy with years of unspoken truths. You felt your heart ache with the weight of them, the quiet sincerity in his voice leaving you breathless.

“We’ve come a long way since then,” he continued, his voice dipping into something deeper, more vulnerable. “We grew up, faced things no one should ever have to face. Missions, losses, mistakes…” His voice faltered, his hand tightening slightly around yours. “And then I walked away. I thought it was the right thing to do, the practical thing. But leaving this life—leaving you—was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. And the worst.”

You swallowed hard, the memory of those years apart rushing back like a tidal wave.

“When I heard your voice that day in the States,” he said, his tone quieter now, “when I thought I might lose you…” He broke off, his jaw clenching as he struggled to steady himself. “I realized then what I should’ve known all along. That you’re everything. That you’ve always been everything.”

The tears you’d been holding back spilled over, and you turned to him, your voice trembling. “Kento…”

But he wasn’t finished. He stood suddenly, his hand slipping from yours as he moved to the base of the oak tree. His fingers brushed over the bark, his touch reverent, as if he were grounding himself in its solidity.

“This tree has been through so much,” he said, his voice steady but thick with emotion. “Storms, winters, years of neglect. And yet, it’s still here. Still standing.” He turned to you, his eyes soft but resolute. “It’s like us, in a way. No matter what’s tried to tear us apart, we’ve always found our way back. We’ve always stood through it.”

He gestured to the flowers at the tree’s base, their vibrant colors glowing in the golden light. “And these… they’re proof that even the smallest acts of love can grow into something lasting. Something beautiful.”

Your breath caught as he stepped closer, pulling something from his pocket. The small velvet box in his hand seemed to glow in the fading sunlight, the sight of it sending a wave of emotion crashing over you.

“I don’t know what the future holds,” he began, his voice trembling slightly. “I know our lives will never be simple. There will be battles we can’t avoid, losses we’ll have to endure. But I also know this—whatever time I have, I want to spend it with you. I want to stand by your side, to face everything together.”

He knelt before you, his eyes never leaving yours.

“You’ve given me so much,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “Your patience, your kindness, your belief in me… I don’t deserve any of it, but I promise you, I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to be worthy of it.”

He opened the box, revealing a ring that was simple yet radiant, its design a quiet reflection of everything he felt.

“I should’ve told you sooner,” he admitted, his voice breaking slightly. “I should’ve said it years ago, when we were kids planting flowers in the dirt. I should’ve said it every day since. But I’m saying it now, and I mean it with everything I am—I love you, (Y/N). I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember, and I’ll keep loving you for as long as I have.”

Tears streamed down your face as he held the ring out to you, his hand steady despite the weight of the moment. “Will you marry me?”

For a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath. The garden, the oak tree, the flowers—all of it seemed to lean in, waiting for your answer. Finally, you nodded, your voice breaking as you whispered, “Yes. A thousand times, yes.”

Relief flooded his face, and he slid the ring onto your finger with care. When he stood, you threw your arms around him, holding him as tightly as you could.

“I love you,” you murmured against his shoulder, your voice trembling with the depth of your emotion. “I’ve always loved you.”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his forehead resting against yours as he whispered, “And I’ll love you for the rest of my life. However long that may be.”

The words hung between you, bittersweet and beautiful, a quiet acknowledgment of the dangers that still lay ahead. But in that moment, beneath the oak tree and surrounded by the garden you’d built together, the future felt distant, almost irrelevant.

For now, there was only this: two hearts, battered but unbroken, promising to face whatever came next—together.

————

age 24: yes now and forever

The morning was one of hushed anticipation, as if the world itself held its breath for the event to come. Soft rays of golden sunlight streamed through the windows of the venue, casting dappled patterns across the stone floor. It wasn’t an opulent cathedral or a grand ballroom; it was a small, ivy-covered chapel nestled in the countryside, its charm lying in its quiet beauty. The ancient oak tree they had planted so many years ago stood just outside, its branches adorned with ribbons and lanterns. Around its base, wildflowers bloomed—a living testament to her magic, their love, and the journey that had led them here.

Inside, chaos brewed as friends bustled to prepare for the ceremony.

“Where’s Nanami?!” Gojo shouted from the chapel hallway, holding up a pair of sunglasses like they were a crucial piece of the wedding puzzle. “I need to give him my trademark advice before he ruins his life—I mean, begins his new life!”

Shoko rolled her eyes, perched on the edge of a pew, sipping champagne from a flask. “The only advice you’re giving is how to be insufferable for eternity. Leave him alone, Gojo.”

Suguru leaned against a wall, smirking. “Pretty sure he’s too busy freaking out to listen to you. My money’s on him crying when she walks down the aisle.”

“Oh, absolutely,” Shoko chimed in. “Man’s a softie. He’s gonna lose it the second he sees her.”

“You’re all underestimating me,” Kento grumbled as he entered, adjusting the cufflinks on his impeccably tailored gray suit. The tie was perfect, the pocket square precisely folded, but the man himself looked like he was barely keeping it together.

Suguru raised an eyebrow. “You’re sweating.”

“I am not.”

Gojo slapped him on the back with an exaggerated laugh. “Nanamin, it’s okay! I cry every time I look in the mirror. Today, it’s your turn.”

Kento glared at him but didn’t rise to the bait. Instead, he glanced toward the closed doors at the far end of the chapel, beyond which she was preparing. His stomach churned. He hadn’t even seen her yet, but the weight of the day—the promises they were about to make—was overwhelming.

In the bridal room, (Y/N) was surrounded by her closest friends, who busied themselves with last-minute touches to her gown and hair. The dress was stunning in its simplicity—white as freshly fallen snow, with vines and blossoms embroidered into the bodice and train. The design was an homage to her abilities, subtle yet unmistakable. Her veil was a delicate gossamer, pinned in place over a braid adorned with tiny flowers she had grown herself.

“Relax, (Y/N),” Shoko said, expertly applying the final stroke of eyeliner. “You’ve fought grade-one curses. You can handle saying ‘I do.’”

“I’m not nervous about that,” she murmured, her voice soft but tight with emotion. “I’m nervous because… this feels like a dream. What if it’s too perfect?”

“Perfect?” Gojo poked his head into the room uninvited, earning a chorus of groans. “Nanami’s in the other room, looking like he’s about to hurl. Trust me, it’s not perfect yet. You will be.”

Shoko shoved him out, rolling her eyes. “Ignore him. You’re gorgeous, and this day will be perfect because it’s yours.”

(Y/N) smiled, though her hands trembled as she adjusted the lace on her dress. “Thank you, all of you.” She looked at herself in the mirror one last time, inhaling deeply. “Alright. Let’s do this.”

The chapel doors opened, and the entire room turned to look at her. A collective gasp rippled through the crowd, but Kento didn’t notice anyone else.

His breath caught the moment he saw her. His usually composed demeanor crumbled as tears welled in his eyes. She looked like a dream—no, she looked like the most tangible, real thing he had ever known, a manifestation of light and love walking toward him.

“Holy crap,” Suguru whispered from his side.

Gojo nudged him. “Called it.”

Kento’s lips parted, his eyes glistening, but no words came. He didn’t even realize the tears slipping down his cheeks until Suguru handed him a handkerchief.

(Y/N) caught his gaze and smiled, her own eyes misty. Step by step, she came closer, and with every step, Kento felt his heart swell, nearly breaking with every heartbeat. The world fell away, and there was only her—only the woman he had loved for so long, in every quiet moment and in every tumultuous battle.

When she reached the altar, her eyes never left his. Kento didn’t know if he could keep standing, his knees weak as if they might give out at any moment. But somehow, he stayed rooted, his hand trembling as he held out his palm for hers. She took it with a smile so tender it felt like the beginning of everything.

The officiant’s voice barely registered in Kento’s ears as he stared at her, his pulse racing. He couldn’t believe this moment was real. It felt like a dream he had never dared to hope would come true.

When it was time for the vows, the silence hung heavily between them, the air thick with meaning.

(Y/N) smiled softly, her hands clasped in front of her, eyes never leaving Kento’s. She took a deep breath, her voice quivering with emotion but steady in its resolve.

“Kento,” she began, her voice like a prayer, “for years, I have lived a life filled with chaos and strife, yet you have always been my constant. You’ve been the calm in every storm, the one person I’ve trusted with my heart, with my fears, and with all of me. You’ve shown me love in ways I didn’t think were possible. And in return, I vow to spend every day of my life showing you the same love, the same support, and the same devotion. You have given me your heart, and now, I give you mine. No matter what the future brings, I am yours, always.”

Kento’s eyes glistened, and his hands tightened around hers, his throat tight with emotion. He had never expected this, never expected to be here, with her, in this sacred space that seemed to transcend time itself.

When it was his turn, he almost couldn’t speak. His voice wavered as he began, his eyes never leaving hers.

“(Y/N), for as long as I can remember, I’ve been afraid. Afraid of being vulnerable, afraid of loving too deeply, afraid of losing the one person who means everything to me. And yet, here you are, standing before me, and I know—I know—that I was wrong to be afraid. You are my heart, my breath, the reason I push forward even when everything seems dark. I’ve been given so many chances to tell you this, to let you know just how deeply I care, and I’ve always hesitated, always been too afraid to admit what was right in front of me. But I’m not afraid anymore. I stand before you today, telling you with every ounce of my being, that I love you. I will love you every day for the rest of my life, no matter what comes our way. And I will be here, with you, beside you, for as long as you’ll have me.”

The room was silent, holding its collective breath, as Kento’s words settled into the air. His tears fell freely now, a testament to the years of unspoken emotions, to the weight of all the times he had longed for this moment but could never quite bring himself to claim. But now, here he was, and he would never take it for granted again.

And then, as the officiant pronounced them husband and wife, Kento leaned down, his hands cradling her face with such reverence that it made her heart ache. When their lips finally met, it wasn’t a simple kiss; it was a promise, a culmination of everything they had endured, everything they had fought for, and everything they would become together.

The reception that followed was a whirlwind of love and laughter, a celebration so full of joy that it felt like time had slowed, as though the universe had conspired to make this one day eternal.

The hall was alive with music, its golden chandeliers casting warm light over the gathering of family and friends. Gojo, as expected, was the life of the party, making grand speeches and trying to get everyone to join him in embarrassing dance routines.

“Come on, Nanamin!” Gojo shouted over the music, dragging Kento onto the dance floor. “You’re married now! You’ve got to dance, or I’ll never let you hear the end of it.”

“Not even if I beg?” Kento deadpanned.

“Nope!” Gojo grinned mischievously. “Now twirl your wife, or I’ll make a speech about how amazing your moves are.”

(Y/N) laughed, slipping her hand into Kento’s and pulling him toward the center of the dance floor. The moment they began to move together, the world seemed to fall away once more, their laughter blending with the music as they swirled beneath the shimmering lights.

Suguru, who was never one to shy away from a joke, stood nearby, an amused smirk on his lips as he clinked his glass to get their attention. “Now that’s a love story, folks. What I want to know is, who’s going to teach me to dance like that?”

Shoko rolled her eyes. “There’s no hope for you, Suguru. You’re all posture and no rhythm.”

“Hey, I’m all rhythm,” Suguru retorted, eyes glinting with challenge. “I just need the right partner to prove it.”

Laughter erupted around them, the joy of the evening spilling over into every corner of the room. But even in the midst of the lighthearted chaos, there was a quiet serenity between Kento and (Y/N). They weren’t just married—they were finally living the dream they had once thought was too far out of reach.

The night went on, each moment becoming a memory etched in their hearts, a story they would tell their children one day. As the last song played and the guests began to filter out, Kento and (Y/N) stood together beneath the oak tree, bathed in the soft light of the moon.

“I never thought we’d get here,” (Y/N) said softly, her hand slipping into his. “I used to wonder if it was all a dream.”

“It’s not a dream,” Kento replied, his voice hushed but sure. “It’s real. And I’m here, with you, forever.”

She leaned her head against his shoulder, her heart full, her body tired but content. She had everything she had ever wanted. And in this moment, surrounded by love and laughter and the promise of a future together, she knew that the journey was just beginning.

And as they stood there, in the quiet of the night, the future stretched before them, a beautiful, endless road, paved with love, laughter, and every step they would take together, side by side in the beautiful life they had built together.

————

age 26: a slice of peace

It had been a long day—too long, if you asked Kento—but when he stepped through the door of their cozy home, the weight of the world seemed to lift just a little. The soft glow of the living room lights, the aroma of something simmering in the kitchen—it was everything he needed after a day spent surrounded by curses, chaos, and endless meetings.

Kento hung his jacket on the back of a chair, loosening his tie as he crossed the threshold. He was met with a familiar sight: (Y/N) standing at the stove, her back to him, humming softly to herself as she stirred something in a pot. The sound of her voice—however quiet—was like a melody to his ears, a reminder that after every battle, there was peace. And peace, it seemed, was always found with her.

“You’re late,” she said, her tone playful but somehow still teasing, even though she didn’t turn to face him.

“Am I?” Kento raised an eyebrow, leaning against the doorframe. “Sorry. I had to deal with a particularly stubborn curse today. It didn’t want to die—or follow orders.”

She laughed softly, turning to glance over her shoulder. “I don’t blame it,” she said with a wink. “If I had to face you all day, I’d want a break too.”

Kento’s lips twitched into a smile. He could never resist her teasing. It made everything feel light, like they were in their own little world—a world far removed from the heavy responsibility of being sorcerers. “Are you cooking again?” he asked, knowing full well she was. (Y/N) was always the one who made their meals, though it had started as a joint effort. Over time, she’d made it clear that she enjoyed it more than he did, and he, in turn, had enjoyed the results.

“Obviously,” she replied, her voice full of playful confidence. “I figured since you’re so great at taking down curses, I should balance things out by feeding you.”

He chuckled as he made his way into the kitchen, catching the faint scent of garlic and herbs in the air. “I don’t think I’m the one who needs balancing. You’re the one who’s been feeding me perfectly every night, making me gain at least five pounds from your cooking.”

“Who’s counting?” she teased, waving her hand dismissively. “At least you’re not the one who accidentally set off the fire alarm three days ago.”

“That was one time,” he protested with mock indignation, though he knew she was right. (Y/N) had made a batch of cookies, and they had almost set the kitchen ablaze because she’d gotten distracted by the latest mystery novel she was reading. “Just a little smoke. Nothing to worry about.”

“Nothing to worry about? Kento, I think the neighbors thought we were hosting a fire drill.”

“I think they were just worried the smoke was coming from the neighbor’s apartment, not ours,” he teased, stepping behind her to take a look at whatever she was cooking. “What’s for dinner, then?”

“Beef stew,” she said with a smile. “With extra carrots—since I know you like them so much.”

He bent down to kiss her cheek, his lips brushing her skin lightly. “I’ll take it. Just don’t make me go for seconds… I might need to squeeze into my suit for that charity gala tomorrow.”

She gave him a mischievous look. “Are you trying to tell me I’ve been feeding you too much?”

“Maybe…” Kento smirked, leaning against the counter and crossing his arms. “But I’m not complaining. In fact, if it weren’t for your food, I’m pretty sure I’d be too thin from all those sleepless nights we’ve had recently.”

(Y/N) shook her head fondly, her hair catching the light as she moved. “You’re impossible,” she said softly, but there was warmth in her voice. “You’re impossible and perfect, and you know it.”

A silence stretched between them, comfortable and steady, like the calm before the storm. Kento watched her for a long moment, his gaze softening. There was something about the way she moved, so graceful, so at peace in their home, that made everything in him feel steady. This was their life now—quiet moments like these, after the chaos of work, before the next battle, before the storm.

She glanced back at him, catching the look in his eyes. “You’re staring at me again,” she said, raising an eyebrow, but the hint of a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.

“I can’t help it,” Kento replied, pushing off the counter to stand next to her. “You look beautiful, even when you’re just cooking dinner.” His voice was quiet, and there was an edge to it, the kind that only came when he was being serious, when he didn’t try to hide how much he loved her.

She turned to face him fully now, a slight blush coloring her cheeks, but there was something else in her eyes—something more intense, more profound. “Stop making me blush,” she said, trying to play it off, but her voice was softer than usual, more vulnerable. “You know how much I love you too, right?”

Kento didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he leaned in, pressing his forehead gently against hers. The moment felt eternal, like the world was paused around them, just for a second. There was no curse, no mission, no threat hanging over them—just the simple, steady rhythm of their breathing and the warmth of their connection.

“You make everything feel like it’s worth it,” Kento said finally, breaking the silence. His voice was rougher than usual, filled with emotion. “The world is chaos, but I’d face it all over again—if it meant getting to come home to you. You… make this life worth it.”

She smiled at him then, the corners of her lips curling up into a soft, knowing grin. “You’re sappy sometimes, you know that?”

“Only for you,” Kento teased back, gently brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. “And only because I’ve got you figured out. You make me want to be better… just by being you.”

(Y/N) laughed softly, her head tilting back in that way that always made his heart swell. “And you make me want to stop burning things… just by being you.”

Kento grinned and pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her waist. She melted into him, her warmth seeping into his bones, as they swayed together to an unspoken rhythm that only they understood. This was life now—peace after the storm, home after the chaos, simplicity in the face of all the complexities of their world.

After a few moments of silent contentment, (Y/N) broke the calm with a mischievous grin. “So… when are you going to admit that you’re hopelessly in love with me?”

Kento chuckled and placed a soft kiss on her lips, his hands resting at the small of her back. “You already know the answer to that.”

She tilted her head in mock curiosity. “Oh? And what’s the answer?”

He smiled, his eyes full of affection and tenderness, his voice low and sincere. “I’m madly, irrevocably, and completely in love with you. But you already knew that.”

Her lips twitched with the tease of another smile, and she leaned in for a kiss, letting it linger just a moment longer than usual. “Well, I guess I’ll have to keep you around, then.”

“Oh, I plan on staying,” he said softly, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from her face. “And I’m never leaving.”

For once, they didn’t have to fight curses or fear the world beyond their door. The peace, the love they’d cultivated, was enough. They were enough. And in this small kitchen, with flour in their hair, the faintest scent of burnt cookies still lingering in the air, everything was as it should be. Perfect in its imperfection.

They spent the rest of the evening together, laughter and love filling the air—before the next mission, before the next challenge. For now, they had each other, and that was everything.

————

age 27: what if?

The air had grown heavier with each passing day. The world of jujutsu sorcerers, for so long a constant whirlwind of curses, danger, and conflict, had finally reached a new precipice—a moment where the known threats no longer made sense. As they all gathered at the table in the heart of the Jujutsu High’s war room, it felt as if something far darker, far deeper, had begun to stir once more.

Kento Nanami stood at the head of the table, his usual calm demeanor softened only by the tension in the air. His fingers drummed idly, a rhythmic, almost involuntary gesture as he pondered their situation. He glanced around at the others, each of them readying themselves for a battle they hadn’t been prepared for.

For months, rumors had spread. Whispers in the underground world of jujutsu had suggested something sinister was in the making. But even those who had the most insight into the curse-riddled world hadn’t anticipated the return of Suguru Geto—or, rather, what Suguru Geto had become.

The once-esteemed ally had become a dark force, someone who sought to tear down everything they had built. His alliance with Mahito, the twisted curse that had wreaked havoc on their lives, had sealed their fate. The two were no longer isolated threats—they were a unified front, hell-bent on reshaping the world.

Kento wasn’t alone in his thoughts. (Y/N) sat beside him, her posture upright and composed, yet her eyes betrayed the storm brewing in her chest. There was no denying the severity of the situation. They had fought together for so long, weathered every storm, but this felt different. This wasn’t just a fight for survival; this was a fight for their very way of life.

A tense silence settled over the room as the sorcerers gathered, all awaiting Gojo’s entrance. When he finally did arrive, it wasn’t with his usual exuberance—his confident smile was absent, replaced by a heavy seriousness that sent a ripple of unease through the group.

“Alright,” Gojo began, his voice steady but tinged with an edge of concern. “I know we’ve all been trying to prepare for this day. Suguru’s been on the move. Mahito’s been gathering power. And now they’ve come together in a way none of us expected.”

The room fell even quieter, if possible. Kento’s gaze never wavered, his focus sharp on Gojo as his former teacher continued, detailing the threat they now faced.

“What we’re looking at now isn’t just another curse,” Gojo said, his voice dropping a notch, becoming more serious. “Suguru’s intentions are clear now. He wants to reshape the world—our world. But this time, he’s not working alone. Mahito’s power has evolved. He’s no longer just a dangerous, unpredictable force; he’s something else entirely.”

(Y/N)’s grip tightened around her coffee cup, the usual quiet fire in her eyes flickering as the gravity of the situation set in. Kento reached over and gave her hand a subtle squeeze, his own thoughts swirling with dark uncertainty. They’d fought so many battles together, faced impossible odds, but this? This was different. Suguru Geto had always been a threat, but now, he was a living nightmare.

“Mahito’s power—his manipulation of souls—has become much more sophisticated,” (Y/N) spoke up, her voice calm but heavy with the weight of the truth. “He’s learned how to twist souls even more efficiently, and Suguru… Suguru has learned how to weaponize that power for himself.”

Kento felt a deep chill settle into his chest. Mahito’s ability to reshape souls was already something that they had struggled to combat, but hearing that he had grown even stronger made Kento question if they were truly prepared for the coming fight. His mind replayed the last battle they had fought against Mahito, how terrifying and grotesque his curse had been then. The thought of facing him now, knowing his abilities had only grown, sent a shiver down his spine.

“The problem isn’t just their power. It’s their coordination,” Gojo added, folding his arms as he leaned against the wall. “Suguru and Mahito are working together in ways we haven’t anticipated. If they’re allowed to continue unchecked, they’ll tear through the sorcerers—and worse, they’ll start targeting civilians.”

Kento’s eyes narrowed. This wasn’t just about fighting curses; it was about defending everything they had worked for. The lives of innocents, the future of Jujutsu High, and the very stability of their world were at stake. But even with all their power, even with their best strategies, the reality was becoming clearer: Suguru and Mahito were far more than anyone had prepared for.

“They’ve taken steps to turn the tide in their favor,” Kento muttered, his mind churning as he thought of their next move. “But we can’t let them gain any more ground.”

“Agreed,” (Y/N) said, her voice cutting through the tension in the room. “Suguru and Mahito think they have control over the cursed energy—but we can’t allow that to happen. If they manage to manipulate the energy the way they want to, it will be chaos.”

Gojo stood up straighter, his eyes flashing with determination. “We’ll hit them before they can make that move. But we need everyone on this mission. We need to be smarter than we’ve ever been before.”

Kento felt his pulse quicken. This wasn’t just another cursed spirit to hunt. This wasn’t an ordinary mission. This was a war.

“What’s our game plan?” Kento asked, trying to stay focused amidst the rising tension.

“We need to break their alliance. That’s the key,” Gojo explained, his mind working quickly. “We split them up. Isolate them. Mahito thrives on chaos, and Suguru on control. If we separate them, they’re not as strong. But we have to act fast.”

(Y/N)’s gaze sharpened, and Kento could see the determination in her eyes. She was ready, just as he was. They had faced impossible odds before, but this? This felt different. This felt personal.

Kento had never doubted their ability to win, but this time, there was an eerie feeling in the pit of his stomach. Suguru and Mahito weren’t just enemies—they were harbingers of a new, terrifying age of curses. And this time, they were ready to break everything down.

As the meeting adjourned, Kento stood, his mind racing through strategies, his heart thundering in his chest. (Y/N) caught his eye, and the unspoken bond between them flared with intensity. They were in this together. They always had been. And though the threat before them was greater than anything they had encountered, Kento knew, in the quiet recesses of his heart, that they could face it.

But even as his thoughts aligned with hers, the bitter truth began to creep in. They were staring at a war, and wars often had no victor.

The day of the battle was swiftly approaching, and as the sorcerers gathered their forces, the weight of the situation settled over them all like a thick fog. Suguru Geto and Mahito were no longer the isolated threats they once were. They were a force, united in their plan to reshape the world of jujutsu sorcery, and the heroes that stood against them had to act quickly.

Kento and (Y/N) stood side by side, preparing for the fight of their lives, knowing full well that their victory might come at an unimaginable cost. When they arrived home, the tension was almost a living thing.

The tension that hung in the air as Kento Nanami and (Y/N) prepared for their battle felt suffocating. Every passing moment seemed to stretch into eternity. They had fought together countless times, against curses of all kinds, but this… this was different. This was a battle against the very fabric of the world they had sworn to protect. This was a war against the forces of destruction that threatened to tear apart everything they knew and loved.

They stood in the quiet of their shared space, the soft hum of the lights and the distant sound of voices in the other rooms of the compound the only things breaking the silence between them. The night was quiet, too quiet, as if the entire world was holding its breath. It was in moments like these, when the weight of what they were about to face hung over them like a stormcloud, that the unsaid things began to creep to the surface.

Kento turned to (Y/N), his usually composed demeanor flickering with a hint of something deeper. Something unspoken.

“What if we don’t make it out of this?” he asked, his voice low but clear. The words hung in the air, heavier than any curse they had faced before.

It wasn’t like Kento to voice his doubts. He had always been the steady one, the grounded one, the one who gave others strength when they needed it most. But this was different. The weight of the situation had begun to erode the walls he had so carefully built around his heart. He needed to know—needed to understand—if this was it. If this was the end of everything.

(Y/N) looked at him, her gaze intense, searching, as if she, too, could feel the tremor of uncertainty that was quietly shaking the foundations of their resolve. The world outside was preparing for battle, but in this room, in the space they had created together, it was just the two of them and the unspoken fear they each carried.

She took a deep breath and stepped closer, her fingers brushing against his. “What if we don’t? What if this is the last time we see each other?” she whispered, her voice trembling just slightly. “What if this is the end of everything we’ve built?”

Kento’s heart clenched at the sound of her words. He had never been one to indulge in what-ifs. He had always focused on the mission, always believed in the future they could create if they fought hard enough. But the reality of what they were facing now was different. There were too many unknowns, too many variables they couldn’t control. Too many things that could go wrong. And the possibility of losing (Y/N)—the woman who had become his anchor, his everything—was a thought too painful to bear.

“Do you ever think about it?” he asked, his voice cracking slightly. “About what happens if we don’t make it through? About the things we’ve left unsaid? The things we might never have the chance to say?”

(Y/N) was silent for a long moment, her expression unreadable as she let his words settle. She had always been strong, always able to keep her emotions in check, but in this moment, with the reality of the threat they faced so close, the façade slipped just enough for Kento to see the vulnerability she rarely allowed to show.

“I think about it every day,” she admitted softly, her gaze dropping to their intertwined hands. “I think about the things we could have said… the things we should have said. But I also think about the things we’ve done, the life we’ve built. What if we never get the chance to… to have more time? What if this is the last memory we make together?”

Kento’s breath caught in his throat. Her words echoed in his mind, her quiet vulnerability striking him to his core. He had always been so certain, so steadfast in his resolve to protect those he loved. But now, in the face of this unknown, he couldn’t escape the nagging doubt that perhaps he hadn’t done enough. Perhaps he hadn’t said enough. Perhaps they hadn’t had enough time.

“(Y/N), I—” Kento started, but the words faltered on his tongue. What could he say? How could he express everything he had kept buried for so long? He had always been so careful, so calculated with his feelings, but this… this was different. This wasn’t a mission. This was his heart on the line.

Her hand squeezed his gently, the touch grounding him. “Kento, we don’t know what the future holds. We never have. But we’ve always fought together. And no matter what happens tomorrow, I want you to know…” She paused, her eyes locking with his, her voice steady but filled with an emotion that left him breathless. “I don’t regret a single moment of this. Of us.”

The sincerity in her voice—so raw, so full of love—made Kento’s heart ache with a longing he had tried to ignore for so long. He had always held back, always buried his emotions behind duty and responsibility. But with (Y/N), he had learned to open up, to trust, to be vulnerable. And now, in this moment of uncertainty, all he wanted was to hold on to that trust, to hold on to her.

“I don’t want to lose you,” he confessed, his voice breaking with the weight of the truth. “I can’t imagine a world without you in it. I’ve spent so much of my life thinking I had to protect you, thinking I had to keep you safe, but I—” He stopped, unsure of how to continue, unsure of how to express the depth of his feelings.

(Y/N) reached up, her fingers brushing the side of his face, her touch gentle and comforting. “Kento, I’m not going anywhere. No matter what happens, we’ve been through too much to let this be the end.”

A silence hung between them, the unspoken promise in her words sinking deep into his heart. They didn’t know what tomorrow would bring. They didn’t know if they would survive the coming battle, if they would make it through the storm that was about to crash down on them. But in that moment, standing together in the quiet of their shared space, they both understood one thing: they had each other.

And that, in the face of everything that lay ahead, was enough.

Kento drew her into his arms, holding her tightly, his breath coming in shaky gasps as he tried to steady his racing heart. He knew the coming battle would be unlike anything they had ever faced, but for now, in this moment of calm before the storm, he allowed himself to bask in the warmth of her embrace.

“I don’t know what the future holds,” Kento whispered against her hair, his voice filled with a quiet resolve. “But I know that I can’t face it without you. I’ve never needed anyone more than I need you.”

(Y/N) smiled, a soft, knowing smile that spoke of years of shared battles, of late-night talks, of love that had grown so strong it had become the very foundation of their existence. “And you never will,” she replied, her voice filled with the same determination. “We’re in this together. Always.”

The silence between them felt sacred, a moment of peace before the world would demand everything from them. As the weight of the war loomed large on the horizon, Kento and (Y/N) allowed themselves this brief respite. Because no matter what came next, they knew that as long as they had each other, they could face anything.

And perhaps, that was all they really needed.

As the night stretched on, the sorcerers prepared for the battles that lay ahead. But for now, Kento and (Y/N) allowed themselves one last moment of peace—a quiet conversation, a soft kiss, and the certainty that no matter what happened, they would face it side by side.

————

age 28: the final stand

The streets of Shibuya were eerily silent under the bloodshot sky, the moon half-hidden by the suffocating clouds that rolled over the city like an endless tide. Shattered glass crunched beneath the soles of boots. The usual hum of city life had been swallowed whole, replaced only by the distant echoes of battle—snarls, curses, and the constant reverberating thrum of cursed energy. The city had fallen into chaos.

Kento Nanami’s breath came in uneven gasps as he pressed forward, his eyes flickering over the chaos. The air was thick with cursed energy, the dark, corrosive force tangling with the very fibers of the world around him. His fingers gripped the hilt of his sword tightly, knuckles white, his every move sharp and precise. And beside him—always beside him—was (Y/N), her dark eyes gleaming with determination, her hands weaving through the air, bending the earth and the wind to her will.

It was a beautiful thing, the way she controlled nature. How the trees seemed to bow to her, how vines erupted from the cracked ground like the earth itself was alive—alive with her power. She was a force of nature, unstoppable and fierce. The thought of her had always kept him going, in every mission, every battle. And in this one? In this hellish night? She was his anchor. His world.

And yet, as the fighting wore on, he saw it—saw the cracks in her resolve, the way her shoulders hunched a little lower with each strike, each breath growing more labored than the last. Her power, magnificent as it was, came at a cost. The earth, it seemed, was exhausted as well.

“Don’t push yourself,” Kento’s voice was gruff, a hint of panic creeping in as he shot a glance over his shoulder, meeting her eyes for only a moment before turning back to the front lines. “We need to pull back.”

But she was already casting again, her arms sweeping the air as the ground cracked open beneath her feet, plants rising to form barriers, blades of grass becoming whips, branches of trees turning into spears of unyielding nature.

“We can’t stop now,” she said, breathless but unyielding. “We have to end this. For everyone.”

Her voice trembled as she spoke, but her eyes remained firm. They locked for a moment, as if sharing a silent vow: they would make it through. They had to.

But the world had other plans. The moment she cast her final spell—a wall of twisting, gnarled branches and vines—there was a shift. A cold gust swept through the air, and Kento’s heart skipped a beat. The trees… they weren’t just twisting. They were bending, breaking, and snapping in a violent, unnatural rhythm. Her energy was draining faster than he could keep up with.

Behind them, a curse—a towering abomination of shifting shadows and jagged, broken limbs—crept from the blackened streets.

“Y/N!” Kento’s voice broke as he turned to face her, a shiver of dread crawling up his spine.

Her body trembled with the strain, but she pressed forward, bringing the earth beneath her to life with the last of her strength. And then the creature charged, its massive clawed hands outstretched.

“NO!” Kento screamed, rushing to intercept, but it was too late.

The creature was upon them in an instant, its claws tearing into the earth, and in a blur of motion, it swept her off her feet. Her scream echoed through the air, a piercing, gut-wrenching sound, as the curse’s claws raked across her side. Blood stained the earth, and Kento’s heart shattered in that instant.

“(Y/N)!” His voice was raw, hoarse, barely a whisper as he lunged toward her, his sword raised to strike. But the curse was faster, its claws digging deeper into her flesh as it pinned her to the ground.

The earth she had so desperately controlled began to falter, the vines curling up as if recoiling from the monstrous presence. Her body convulsed, the energy she had fought so hard to control draining from her with each tortured breath.

Kento could feel his chest tighten, as if something inside him was slowly being crushed. Time slowed in that moment—her blood, so dark against the dirt, her body so small and fragile in the creature’s grasp.

She met his eyes, her lips curling into a pained but fond smile. “I love you,” she whispered, barely audible through the suffocating storm around them.

“Don’t—” he began, but he never finished. The monster’s claws descended again, sharper, faster, and with an inhuman screech, it pierced her body.

The world seemed to collapse around him.

Her scream was silenced by the gurgling, choking sound that escaped her lips as her body was impaled. She was still smiling, through the agony, her eyes locked with his, even as the life slowly drained from her.

“No… please… no…” His voice cracked as he dropped to his knees, reaching out toward her. But he couldn’t get close enough.

Her hand reached for him, shaking, but the weight of the curse was too much. The earth she had commanded refused to rise, her power fading faster than she could fight it. And in the final moment, she was gone.

Her body went limp, her eyes closing as the curse ripped her from him.

Kento’s scream tore through the air, raw and guttural, as he watched her slip away.

It felt like his soul had shattered, but he couldn’t look away. He couldn’t let her go, even as her body was ripped to pieces before him.

And then, before he could move, before he could even gather his bearings, a cold presence loomed behind him.

Mahito. Jugo.

The two curses stood before him, their faces twisted with cruel delight.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?” Mahito’s voice was smooth, mocking, as if everything about this moment was some twisted joke.

Kento gritted his teeth, his hands shaking as he reached for his sword. He couldn’t let them win. Not after all this. Not after her.

But he knew he was too late.

Mahito’s cursed energy wrapped around him, tightening like a vice, while Jugo’s immense power loomed behind.

“You should have stayed out of this, Nanami,” Jugo said with a low growl, before lunging at him with terrifying speed.

The fight was brutal.

Kento’s sword clashed with Jugo’s fist in a flurry of sparks and violence, but his body was already worn down, his mind shattered from the loss of (Y/N). His strikes were slow, weak, and he knew—he knew—he wouldn’t survive this.

Mahito stood back, watching with that sickening, twisted grin as Kento fought, desperately, to stay alive.

But the world had abandoned him.

Jugo’s next strike hit Kento square in the chest, sending him crashing to the ground. Blood stained his lips, but even as he struggled to breathe, the pain, the agony, the heartache—it all felt so familiar. She was gone.

And just like that, in that moment of anguish, Mahito moved in for the kill. His fingers brushed against Kento’s forehead, and Kento felt the chilling touch of the curse wrap around his soul.

In that moment, Kento realized what he had been fighting for, what he had always fought for. It had never been just survival. It had always been for her. And now, as the world faded, as the pain and the blood mixed together, all he could think of was the life he never got to share with her.

Mahito’s laughter echoed in his ears as he faded into darkness. His body went limp, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, he let go.

And then there was only silence.

As Kento’s body lay still on the cold, unforgiving ground, his thoughts were scattered. They drifted to her—the only thing that mattered now, the only one who had ever mattered.

Her face, her smile, her laugh… All the memories that had once been so vivid now felt like they were slipping away, like smoke dissipating into the night air. His heart, which had once beaten for her, now lay heavy and silent within his chest. The world he had fought so desperately to protect, the mission he had once lived for—none of it mattered. Not without her.

The weight of that truth was crushing, but at the same time, there was a strange peace in it. He had failed. But in the end, he had given everything for her.

His consciousness began to fade as the cursed energy of Mahito wrapped around him like a shroud. The darkness crept in, inch by inch, until there was nothing but an emptiness he could no longer fight. The sounds of battle—the distant screams of curses, the clash of swords—dissolved, becoming a faint hum. And just as the light of the world blinked out before his eyes, one single image remained.

Her face. Her eyes.

He saw her, not broken or bleeding as she had been when he last laid eyes on her, but alive. Smiling, her hand reaching for his as she always did, her warmth, her essence filling his soul.

For a moment, he felt a flicker of something—something gentle, something soft—as though her spirit had reached out to him. She had been the light that guided him, the anchor in the storm, and in the end, he had followed her, reaching out for her even in death.

And then, as the world finally went black, Kento Nanami’s last thought was simple, pure, and filled with longing:

I’m coming for you, Y/N. Wait for me.

The cold night air stretched on, silent now, save for the flickering embers of the chaos that had consumed Shibuya. The curses were no more, their twisted forms scattered like broken toys across the battlefield. The city, in its death throes, was still. The streets that had once been so full of life were now empty. A hushed, sorrowful calm had fallen over it, and the earth mourned its bender and her lover.

————

an eternal love

Kento’s first breath in the afterlife wasn’t a breath at all. It was something far deeper, something that swirled in the very essence of his being, as though his soul had been waiting for this moment all along.

At first, everything was nothing. Blank, vast, and weightless. The kind of silence that presses into your ears until your thoughts blur. But then, a glimmer.

A soft light appeared on the horizon—a soft, golden glow, like the first rays of dawn kissing the earth after a long, dark night. His feet, though weightless, moved instinctively toward it. There was no pain. No burden. No scars. Only warmth and the promise of something that had always been missing.

As he stepped forward, his heart—still tethered by the love he had once known—began to beat again. He felt it as a quiet thrum within his chest, a comforting pulse that reassured him everything would be okay. That everything already was.

And then, as the light grew clearer, he saw her.

Y/N.

She stood there, bathed in soft gold, the light wrapping around her like a halo, but not in a way that seemed distant or unreachable. She was tangible. Real. Breathing in the same rhythm as him, as though they’d never been apart.

Her hair, once torn and tangled from battles, now flowed freely in a gentle breeze, like a field of flowers dancing in spring. Her eyes—those beautiful eyes that had always seen him—were more radiant than he had ever imagined. She stood tall and strong, no longer a broken soul but a piece of the very heavens themselves.

His breath caught in his throat, even here. The very sight of her, her existence—this moment—felt like a dream he had fought so long for. But it was real.

Her eyes met his, and for a heartbeat, time paused.

She smiled—oh, how she smiled, and it was a smile that reached deep inside him, threading its way through the soul he thought he’d lost. It was the kind of smile that, in its simplicity, made everything right again. It said everything they had never said, everything they never needed to.

She stepped toward him, her pace slow, deliberate, each movement graceful as if the space between them could never be fast enough. He didn’t wait. He moved toward her as well, almost desperate to close the distance, but this time—this time, he wasn’t afraid.

When their hands touched, it was as though the entire world breathed in at once. Their fingers intertwined like it was the most natural thing in the universe. Her skin was as warm as it had always been, but there was a lightness in it now—a peace that hadn’t existed before. She wasn’t a warrior anymore. She wasn’t the person who had been dragged through a life of curses and bloodshed. She was simply Y/N, and she was perfect.

“I thought I’d lost you forever,” Kento whispered, his voice rough, a silent tear slipping down his cheek. It was a tear not of sorrow, but of relief. Because here she was. Here, with him, in this place that wasn’t an ending, but rather the beginning of something far more beautiful than he had ever imagined.

She laughed softly, a sound that filled his chest with a warmth that he hadn’t known in life. “You never lost me,” she said, her voice as soft as the wind, carrying a truth that wrapped around his heart. “I’ve always been here, Kento. I was never truly gone.”

And it was then he understood.

This was not an afterlife of sorrow or regret. This was peace. This was the love they had fought for, the love they had lived for—eternal, unbroken. In this place, there was no time. No distance. No fear.

They stood together, in a quiet serenity that washed over them, knowing that their souls had always been tethered, even in the darkest of moments. Their hands were still entwined, their bodies close as they both took in the purity of this moment.

Kento pulled her closer, his chest resting against hers, his arms wrapped around her like she was the only thing that could ever make sense of the world. His heart ached in the most beautiful way, full of longing and love. And for the first time in what felt like an eternity, he allowed himself to completely sink into the peace she offered.

“Y/N,” he whispered again, this time his voice barely audible, “I don’t ever want to leave this place. With you, I’ve found everything. And if I could’ve told you sooner… how much I loved you… I would have.”

She pulled away slightly, her hands resting on either side of his face, her eyes full of softness, understanding. “I knew, Kento. I knew,” she said, her voice a melody that soothed his soul. “In every moment, I knew. And now… now we don’t need words anymore. Because this… this is our forever.”

And forever it was.

They stayed there, in the quiet of the afterlife, no longer burdened by time or fear. Every moment they shared was a memory woven into the very fabric of their being, a new chapter of their love story written in the stars above.

It was in the way their fingers brushed against each other, how the world around them stood still, as though even the universe itself honored their bond.

Kento didn’t need to speak. There was no need to confess, not anymore. Their love had never been about words or promises—it had always been about being together, despite everything the world had thrown at them. And now, here, in this place of peace, there was nothing to fear. Only each other.

They walked side by side, their steps light and effortless, no longer weighed down by the struggles of their past. There were no curses to battle, no wars to fight. In this place, there was only love.

Their love, eternal and pure, would echo through the cosmos, like a soft whisper carried on the wind.

And for the first time, Kento Nanami knew that everything had always been leading to this—this moment, this peace, and this love that would never fade. He’d choose her love and their story forever, and ever, and ever again.

thank you so much if you read all of this!!! im not so sure if i like it but at least its out there. feedback and suggestions are always appreciated! and if you see typos, no you didnt! also i take requests(please i yearn to write). much love💕💕

#x yn #nanami kento x reader #jjk kento #kento x reader #kento fluff #kento x you #jjk gojo #jjk geto #jjk x yn #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk fanfic #fluff #angst with a happy ending

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blonde0chaos · 11 months ago

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HOAs sound so good on paper but are such a shit show in practice. Like, they're supposed to stop people from, I don't know, parking broken down cars in the front yard (which I still think is a fine thing to do. If Billy says he's gonna fix up his T-bird let 'em. May take 3 years but that's Billy's problem). Instead of 'protecting home values' you get the most entitled, self important chuckle fucks stomping their feet and making up bullshit rules.

Before we moved, a neighbor was voted onto the board. I knew this man from my brother's cub scout days. He was that flavor of loser that if his kid didn't earn a patch or come in first or second in something. He'd throw a royal hissy until the troop decided to just give EVERYONE a patch/merit for participating. He was also that parent the for things like the wooden car derby or DIY boat race would VERY OBVIOUSLY make his son's for him.

HOAs, if they ever had a redeeming purpose, have been run into the ground by spoiled brats. Brats who think they have any authority to tell you what to do on your land. Never mind you pay your mortgage, you pay your taxes, you pay for the upkeep, etc. Karen and Ken down the road decided they don't like your clothes line. So now you get a fun new threatening letter from the management company the HOA hired. Ya know, the one that NEVER ANSWERS THE PHONE!

HOAs sound awful, how do people deal with strangers telling them what color to paint their house and shit I would start throwing rocks

#We hunted for almost 10 years #For a house or piece of land #The ONLY qualifiers were it not be in a flood plain or HOA #I have STORIES about the HOA from our old neighborhood #Mostly because I was the one who started the secret chicken keeping ring #It was SOOOOOO funny to watch people on Nextdoor #Absolutely LOSE THEIR MINDS!!! Trying to find out who had the chickens #Little did they know I was only the first #It slowly spread from our yard to the neighbors on the left #Then the neighbors on the right #Then the neighbors two doors down from them and so on #And the HOA couldn't do shit because we all had privacy fences and the management company couldn't trespass down the driveway #My one legacy in life is covert chicken keeping

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emawinslow · 2 years ago

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I miss my childhood house so much I would give anything to grab the knob at the end of the banister and jump from the third step and catch a million seconds of air while I whip myself around the banister and down the hall

#I also miss my treehouse and the pool table I would use for fashion shows and the smell of the “secret garden” under the stairs and #the way the house would settle and the planes overhead and that stain on the carpet from where I dropped an entire plate of mac n cheese #and the distinct smell of my mom’s closet and climbing down over the back bank and going to the entryway where the ceiling was two stories #high and throwing bouncy balls as hard as I could to get them to bounce off the ceiling and the rope swing in the backyard and eating #the buttercups that grew there bc I read once they were edible and the sound your nails made when they scratched across the counter and #using hot clue to peel off paint and make patterns on the workbench and the shed that smelled like gasoline and climbing the tree that #my dad installed handles into to make it easier and making umbrella forts and playing washing machine (spinning around and around in #circles with your arms out then falling to the floor and watching the room spin) and the mismatched rung on the banister from where #I broke it and the sound of the cat door and how the garage door was so heavy that it would slam if you didn’t prop it open and how the #smell of laundry would waft up into my room and how if you laid on the bathroom floor you could see a piece of the old yellow flower #wallpaper that my mom missed when she ripped it out and the sound of the sliding glass door that we could never quite get clean and #the sound that the bag full of bags would make when you opened the pantry door too far and how my neighbor always used to sing when #she brought her trash out late at night and the crunch sound the carpet would make when you walked on the edge and how raccoons would #always come to the back door and my cat would try to scare them away and being scared to go into my mom’s bathroom bc the shower #had been ripped out for years after my dad tried to power wash it so it left several gaping holes to the rest of the house but there were #spiders in there for all I knew or cared #carmen.txt

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kaidabakugou · 2 years ago

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genuinely want to cry rn, like i’m never leaving my house ever again y’all

#kai.rambles #i can’t live in peace deadass #y’all remember last week when i sneezed and hit my forehead on the counter #i thought that was hella embarrassing BUT TODAY DUDE? TODAY TAKES THE CAKE #where i live my neighbors are super nice we always share the extra produce we have or receive since we all grow different things in the yard #and today my neighbor who is married has kids and his wife is so sweet i love chatting with her #brought me some extra produce from his restaurant and my dog was barking really loud so i picked him up to put him behind the little-#gate he has in the hallway so he doesn’t escape when i open the door to guests #i had on a crop top - you can already imagine where did is going lol #when i picked him up (he’s usually very calm when i pick him up) BUT TODAYYY the stray mommy kitty that i feed happened to be waiting for -#me with her two baby kittens for me to feed her and when my dog saw them he went crazy in my arms #AND KICKED MY CROP TOP DOWN IN FRONT OF MY DAMN NEIGHBOR #I FLASHED MY FKN NEIGHBOR!!!!#he was super respectful about it BUT STILLLL #he immediately covered his eyes while i was apologizing like crazy and he was like no don’t worry about it things happen etc etc #he gave me the box with produce after i put my dog behind the gate and we just chatted normally like always since he knows my mom and -#grandma so he was asking about them BUT I ON THE OTHER HAND #was talking while holding back tears BECAUSE HOW EMBARRASSINGGGGG #it’s not the first time i’ve flashed ppl but other times has been with friends or strangers NOT MY GROWN ASS NEIGHBOR #AGHHHHHH #my dog and i had a stared down afterwards too like damn bitch that really just happened #sorry for the long post but i needed to scream it into the void #and i called my mom and she was like oh that’s no big deal i’ve even flashed the mailman a couple of time and im like ok thats on you #my mailman has seen me in my robes but i haven’t flashed him BUT THE NEIGHBOR- THAT I ACTIVELY TALK TOOOOO NOOOOOOOOOOJDNEJSJDSJSJSJ #and bf just laughed about it and hasn’t stopped since bc he finds it hilarious :(

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lxnarphase · 16 days ago

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𓇼 FUCK HER, FLIP HER, BEND HER BACKWARDS !

❤︎₊‧⁺...synopsis : the church always says sex for pleasure is a sin, and nanami kento is a man of the lord. but fuck, if his wife isn't worth sinning for. wc: 4.3k

❤₊‧⁺...cw : n. kento x fem!reader, religious themes, traditionalist views on sex and marriage, loss of virginity, missionary to mating press, breeding kink, overstimulation, unprotected sex, nanami loses himself in your pussy, slight cum play, dirty talk

❤₊‧⁺...lunar's note : am i unintentionally coping with religious trauma? possibly but it is fun :33 anyways based of this! forgive me if my writing is a bit rusty, it's been a while but enjoy !!

the two of you have spoken about eventually having children many times, but knowing the steps it took...it kept you both pushing it back, knowing eventually you'd both be ready.

after speaking with doctors, asking for advice from the church, and having you grumble about the neighbors who welcomed a cute baby girl, the two of you figured it was time.

you did your best to act normal all dayl, trying not to seem to nervous or too excited as you went about your chores for the day.

it may just be an act to procreate, but...it's still your first time with nanami. you want it to at least feel special.

there was nothing in the bible that went against that, right?

well, you have plenty of time to overthink since it seems that your dear husband will be at work late. to pass the time, you wait upstairs in your shared bedroom, the TV on as a distraction.

you're so stuck in your own world that you don't even notice him in the doorway before he clears his throat, leaning in the doorway. "oh! hi, honey, welcome home!" you go to stand up, but he holds up a hand, making you stop before you can get up from the bed.

it's silent, aside from the noise from the TV, and you can feel your stomach flip in anticipation.

has...has he always looked that handsome?

he continues to stand by the door, still not making eye contact. "you said it...starts today, correct," nanami questions, focused on undoing the straps of his watch. it shouldn't be attractive, it's such a simple task...yet it has your stomach doing flips as you nod.

"mhm, my, uh...ovulation starts today." it's such a weird thing to say, it just makes everything feel so...clinical. but that's how it's supposed to be, right? those who use sex for pleasure instead of procreation are sinners, or whatever the reverend at the church says.

"mm."

slowly pulling it off, he sets the watch on the dresser before shutting the bedroom door

"good."

dear god in heaven, you think to yourself, struggling to swallow the saliva pooling inside your mouth as he starts to undress. please forgive me for such inappropriate thoughts about my husband.

he removes his suit jacket—black today, it seems—placing it carefully on his desk chair, followed by his cufflinks and tie. his shirt is next, each button popping to reveal his strong, well-maintained physique.

you have to stop yourself from pumping your fist in the air for getting so lucky with such an attractive man as your husband. too busy ogling him like a horny teenager, you miss him undoing his belt before tugging them down and stepping out of his boxers.

once you do realize he's fully undress, you blush hard once he approaches the end of the bed—it took everything out of you not to stare at that...monster hanging between his legs, dear lord—and climbs onto it, making his way to hover over you.

his eyes roam up and down your body, taking in the pretty silky night dress you had on. It’s a soft blue with lacy white trim with little intricate flower designs.

modest, yet sensual.

"this is new," he comments, voice low and sultry. you can't help but wonder if he meant to sound so...so...

you don't find the correct word for it, but this new tone lights a fire in your stomach that has your r thighs squeezing together just a little bit.

"well, i figured it was an important night...you know, finally popping our cherries a-and starting a family?"

it's a weak attempt at humor, your voice clearly giving away your nervousness. you just pray that he ignores it.

a soft hum leaves him, his fingers playing with the intricately designed lace trim. the idea that you want to make this whole ordeal special, that you want to give yourself to him wholly, and that you want to swell with his child...

it pleases him greatly, a small smile touching his lips.

"well, aren't you sweet, my dearest?"

such simple words, yet they relieve so much tension from your shoulders. you can't help but smile back before a little gasp falls from your lips when his hands start to lift the dress up. his hands, they're so big, so hot on your skin.

It's a struggle to remember that this is for the purpose of producing offspring and nothing else, but you try, you try so hard.

but when you hear the hitch in his breath at the realization you didn't have anything else underneath the dress after he pulls it over your head, it's hard to remember.

the thought just about completely leaves your mind at the way nanami, your usually put-together husband, looks so hungrily down at you, a look you've never seen before in those pretty hazel eyes.

his gaze lingers on your body for a moment, mouth opening before shutting instantly, preventing himself from saying something he'd likely regret.

calm down, kento, he reminds himself, taking a second to clear his mind. this is for the purpose of family, not sinful and carnal desires.

even so, he's drinking in the sight of you, unable to stop his hands from rubbing up and down your sides, the soft skin of you, his wife, warming his palms. all his.

"gorgeous," he mumbles, unaware he even said it.

the moment you feel his leaking cock brush against your leg, a thought occurs to you.

neither one of you has a single idea of how to do this.

sure, you both know enough about putting it inside and moving, but that was about it. is there something else you should do? things you should say, places you should touch to aid in the process?

they never explained the actual process of sex in church, and lord knows your mother and father would've keeled over and died instantly if you were to ask them.

'it comes naturally when god deems it your time' the reverend stated once during a sermon. you fight back a frown, realizing that man probably had even less of an idea of how to do it.

however, the feeling of his tip nudging against your slit rips a gasp out of you, bringing you back into the present.

"are you alright? you left me for a bit there," nanami asks, his brow furrowed in worry. if you weren't ready, he was willing to back off. he may want to fulfill this important aspect of marriage, but...not if you don't want it.

"n-no, i'm okay! just...wondering how all of this is going to work out," you softly reassure, giving a weak giggle.

he can't blame you, he isn't very sure either. but as the man of the house and as your husband, he didn't plan on letting you worry. he would do all the work, you just needed to lay there looking so pretty, so soft, so...he realizes he's doing it again, letting his mind wander to places it shouldn't.

"just...j-just relax, we will figure it out as we go along."

with your silent nod, nanami starts to push his hips forward, hissing silently when he realizes the wetness that greets him.

you were this aroused just from...talking?

the thought of scolding you for letting your mind wander crossed his own, but...it would be hypocritical when his cockhead is dribbling precum all over your soft mound.

you choke out a noise of pain when his cock finally notches onto you and starts to push inside. sure, your wetness helped get the tip and the few inches after it inside, but just that is already too much for you, and you're expected to take all of it?!

you do your best not to move, not really sure what you should be doing. you'd be a good wife and bear with the pain if you had to, your nails digging into the pillow under your head as you braced yourself for the rest of his cock.

but this is absolutely unbearable, how do other women bear with this and have 6 or more children?!

a flicker of concern flashes through nanami's eyes at the sound you made, and he stops moving forward. he may be a bit mean sometimes, but he wasn't cruel.

if you both are going to go through with this, he is not going to make you suffer and nor is he going to force you to endure a painful experience.

no true man of god would do such a thing.

"breathe, don't hold it in," he instructs, his voice somehow calm and collected. one of his hands laces with yours, hoping to provide some sort of comfort as his lips brush against your forehead. "i've got you, darling, the pain will pass, just...tell me to stop if it gets too bad. don't hold it in."

giving a soft nod, you try to match his breathing, your body relaxing and making it easier for nanami to slip the rest of himself inside, a near silent sigh escaping him. the tightness and initial resistance that greeted him nearly made him moan, his cock twitching violently inside of you.

something about the physical feeling and knowledge that you saved yourself for him like you promised years before you both got married sent a surge of possession and pride, knowing he has such a loving and faithful wife who is so willing to give herself up to him like this...he can only hope you feel the same knowing he saved himself for you and only you.

so, as a 'reward'—and totally not because he fears you'll strangle his cock off with how tight you are—he's so gracious to you, not moving to let you get used to the stretch and feel of him inside, the room silent except for your matching breathing.

a few moments go by, and you should feel embarrassed when you feel slick drip out of you and down your ass. the realization that your dearest husband, one of the most faithful men of the church, is letting his cock soak inside of your hot cunt makes you whine a little, slick walls fluttering around him.

he's so fucked.

"a-ah...i'm going to move now," he warns, taking your sudden noise as a good sign. nanami shifts his legs just a bit before giving an experimental thrust, his brow furrowing as he slowly finds a rhythm.

the feeling of your hot and gummy walls is absolutely intoxicating, divine, nothing he's ever felt before.

this is what it felt like?

this is what he waited for?

fuck, it felt...it felt so good.

too good.

for you, the pain completely melts away, and you silently thank god and the angels above for giving you a merciful husband who is so kind as to wait for you to loosen up around him.

little do you know, he would rather kill himself than start moving when you're still adjusting to the pain and stretch.

his gentle movements make you all but melt under him, your eyes fluttering at the unbelievable pleasure coursing through your veins.

no wonder your parents preached about saving yourself until marriage, and thank the heavens you listened.

the very thought of feeling this way with anyone but your kento puts a bad taste in your mouth.

meanwhile, nanami chants prayers in his head over and over again as he tries his best to focus on the 'true' purpose for this.

the sticky, wet, and gooey sensation of your plump cunt sucking him, practically weeping each time he pulls out is just unfair.

the poor man, he's fighting so hard to maintain his composure, to not succumb to the base instincts that those soft moans of yours are beginning to stir within him.

"s-shush, darling," he grits out, hips still following his slow, deep pace. "don't...don't make such noises," he all but pleads, voice tinged with a huskiness that betrayed his growing need for you.

“i-i’m sorry! just, it...feels good, y-you feel good, feels s-so good,” you whisper, hands coming up to cover your mouth and stifle those sickeningly sweet noises.

but of course, that isn’t enough because each push and pull of his cock stirs your drooling cunt, filling the room with wet, filthy squelching sounds.

nothing about this is holy, nanami thinks as he grits his teeth, hands fisting in the sheets next to your head.

look at her.

those soft, muffled noises are truly music to his ears, his pace morphing from the slow, deep grind into a faster pace as your soft body gives into the pleasure.

so wet, so damn tight around my cock., like she never wants to let me pull out.

"k-kento, y-you're goin' too deep, i-i can't be quiet, s'too much!"

messy little pussy, 's beggin' for cum, needs it, needs to feel my tip kissin' her cervix as i pump load after load into her womb.

he knows what that little voice is, and no matter how much he wants to claim that it’s the sound of demons pouring their sinful words into his mind, he knows that it's his thoughts, fueled by those dirty little noises that she can't hold back.

how pitiful, how sinful, doesn't she know she's going against all the teachings they've heard preached every weekend in their church?

doesn't she know she's giving into lust?

doesn't she know her pretty sounds are making his dick throb, painting her insides with his hot, gooey precum?

"hush, 'm not going to t-tell you again, you...you need to be quiet," he growls, the command lacking its earlier authority.

nanami also knows lying is a sin, and he's doing a damned lot of it right now as he tries to convince himself that you need to stay silent. after all, this—this is just a process of giving you both a child, just like you wanted, and nothing else.

but he's lying to himself.

he needs you to be quiet or else he'll lose it.

the poor man is barely holding onto his restraint, and these sweet noises pouring from your mouth aren't helping at all.

"y-you make this so difficult sometimes, my dear..." his voice is rough with need and desire, a stark contrast to his usual composed demeanor. "but, by god, you're...you're. absolutely. exquisite."

he punctuates his words with a particularly hard thrust, grinding his hips into you in a way that has the coarse hair on his crotch to rub against your clit. the pleasure it gives you is electric, your legs coming up to squeeze his hips as you try to grind with him.

his words, his simple praise only makes you hiccup his name, crying out louder as your watery eyes roll back as your needy cunt squeezed down on his fat cock.

you're such a sweet thing, trying oh-so hard to mute your sounds. each snap of his hips is all but driving you insane.

“i-i can’t, ken, y-you don’t understand, i-it feels so good, i-i’m so full! you’re pressing against all the good spots, kentoo, i-i love you s' much, b-but i can't!”

be a good fucking husband and do what you were made to, nanami kento.

his teeth dig into his bottom lip, trying to hard to ignore that temptation purring in the back of his mind.

the voice is so much louder now, echoing throughout his mind and muting any prayers or pleads to be mindful of the sanctity of this whole process.

fuck her. give her what she needs, what she deserves.

but it's too fucking hard, he can't his hips are speeding up, his strong hands moving to grip your thighs, unaware of how they start to anchor behind your knees.

breed your pretty little wife and give her a baby like she deserves.

with a deep groan, nanami finally loses all control, fingers digging into your supple thighs to push them to your chest and practically folding you in half.

this new angle has him openly moaning like a dirty whore, allowing him to plunge even deeper into your tight, gummy walls, the head of his cock kissing your cervix with each and every deep thrust.

"k-ken, kenny, k-ken," you sob, tears catching onto your lashes as your entire being is assaulted by the endless pleasure your husband is giving you. he doesn't even look like your kento anymore, his pupils blown so wide that you can barely see the ring of greens and brown of his iris.

"f-fuck. 's all your fault, you know that," he hisses, eyes narrowing as he weakly glares down at you. but you can see the hearts in his eyes as he gives in to the pleasure.

his dark eyes bore down into yours, the wet plap plap plap plap of his hips slamming into yours almost overpowering his voice. "if y-you just stayed quiet like i asked, w-we wouldn't be here."

a little spurt of wet gushes out of you, making his fall forward into the juncture of your neck with a groan at the dirty noise it makes,

"god, i-i can feel it, y'know? can feel this sticky pussy—such a dirty little pussy—makin' such a mess. saved it jus' for me, didn't you, baby? mmhm—fuckin' hell, 's tight—thank you god f' giving me such an angel of a wife." nanami is huffing nonsense against your neck, pounding into you with a force that has the bed creaking loudly.

if you weren't being fucked stupid, you would be worried he was about to break the bed.

"you can keep that pretty mouth of yours shut, b-but you jus' had to have the noisiest little cunt."

he's so mean, but it only serves to make you gush even more, the way juices pour out of you and only make the already filthy noises even nastier.

"she's talkin' to me, baby, y'hear it? i'm...i-i'm gonna breed you," he manages to whine into your ear, pulling away to press his sweaty forehead against yours.

his tongue, so pink and pretty—you want it in your mouth, want to taste it want to feel it against yours—runs over his top lip as he watches drool drip down the corner of your mouth while you nod brainlessly.

nanami's never felt so dirty, so unhinged, but it feels so right, feels so fucking good. he never wants to leave your pussy, never wants to pull out, this is where he belongs, buried deep inside you as his cock pumps load after load right into your tummy, giving you what you need, what you deserve.

"yeah? you want that? i'll give it to you, baby, promise, 'm gonna be a good husband a-and knock you up, gonna make you a mommy."

that has you keening, tears pouring down your cheeks at the pleasure it shoots up your spine. you know you're close, but it's different.

it feels different, feels too much, there's pressure you've never felt before from the few times you'd cave in and play with your puffy, swollen clit in the shower when you waited for nanami to get home from work to kiss you to sleep.

no, you feel like you are about to fucking explode. "ken, i-i can't, 'm gonna—s-something's coming," you try to warn, your hands fisting in his hair as you tug and tug and tug.

the pull of his hair makes him moan like a slut, it sounds so fucking good. his eyes are rolling back before he rushes to comfort you, pressing soft little open-mouthed kisses against your lips.

you don't need to fight it, you just need to give it to him, give him what he needs.

"shh, shh, don' cry, y' look t'pretty, honey. l-let it happen, cum for me, i've got you, angel, cum for me s-so i can fill you up," he coos, his hips growing erratic as he feels your silky walls starting to fluttering around him, feeling you teeter on the edge of release.

he shifts, just barely, just enough to better position himself to fuck deeper into you. but that slight movement has his cock smushing against something soft and spongy that makes you sob, growing softer and more pliant under him, and you know you are done for as all you can do is wail his name.

"please, pretty girl, cum for me, show me how good 'm making you feel, soak my cock, c'mon, you can do it."

with a loud mewl that nearly has nanami soaking your walls in cum, you dig your nails into his biceps as you finally, finally cum. and you're right, it is different, your cute pussy squirting and creaming all over his dick.

the poor man is choking back a whine, eyes wide in shock as your cunt just gushes slick everywhere, clenching around him like a vice as you cum.

your juices are soaking his cock and balls, splattering against his lower abdomen obscenely. the thought of making you do that again crosses his mind for a split moment before the need to fill you up for being so good overpowers any other thought.

not giving you a break, he continues his unforgiving fucking, ignoring your cries and pleads for him to slow down.

"nonono, shh, shh, shush, you can take it," he coos against your lips, no longer caring if this was sinning or not. all he could think about was the constant squeezing and spasming of your poor overstimulated slit that was milking him toward his orgasm.

you try to squirm away, but the way he has you folded in half has you unable to do anything but accept his stupidly deep thrusts that make you swear you can taste his cock in the back of your throat.

"t-tha's it." he's panting, slurring his words, his fingers digging into the fat of your thighs. it’s so wet, so messy now, but he can't find it in himself to care.

no, all he can think about as he looks down at you is how you'll have that angelic glow as you grow round with his baby, and everyone will know you're his, that he knocked you up, he pumped you full of his cum, that you're his you're his you're all fucking his—

"f-fuck, honey, i-i can't..." his hips stutter as he does his best to maintain his rhythm, but his own release is barreling down on him. his heavy balls are drawing up tight as they slap against your ass, your juices still pouring out and soaking all of him.

"'m gonna fill you up, 'm gonna pump this—this sinful little cunt f-full of m'cum, angel, gonna knock you up, gonna have you drippin' with me, g-gonna give you a fuckin' baby, shit—"

with a deep, guttural groan, nanami hisses your name as he buries himself as deep as possible, his hot tip kissing your cervix as thick, hot ropes of his potent cum pour right into your womb, hips grinding into you and giving little thrusts as you milk his cock weakly despite your overstimulation.

it's—it's so much, he's still cumming, how was all of this inside of him? you can practically feel it sloshing around inside of you, and you whimper when you feel it gush out around his now softening cock, dripping down your ass onto the bed.

a moment or two passes, and he sits up, pushing his sweaty hair out of his face and looking down at you.

oh.

you sweet thing, you're an absolute mess. you have tear streaks down your cheeks, your lips swollen from him unknowingly biting them between the little kisses he was giving you, a pretty sheen of sweat on you, and...

his eyes trail lower to where his dick is still nestled inside of you, and it takes everything in him to not accidentally thrust his hips a little bit.

it's a creamy, sticky mess, a mixture of his and your cum seeping out your poor, abused pussy.

"o-oh. sorry, my love. i'm...not quiet sure what happened there. i apologize for such...foul language," he mumurs, his hand stroking your hip. "'s okay," you softly coo back to him, your eyes fluttering shut as you try to catch your breath. "i-i liked it..."

but you quickly learn you've married both a man of god and a curious, insatiable bastard who can't help but drag his cum all over your pussy, quickly finding your clit. and the reaction you give him is one he decides he likes, your hips canting up as your soft, oversensitive walls squeeze around his cock again.

"k-kento, that's nasty!"

all you get in response is a grumbling noise in his chest as it takes you weakly slapping your hands against his chest to get his eyes to snap away from your gooey, creamy pussy.

clearing his throat, he looks down at you, that heated look slowly creeping back onto his face. "perhaps we...we should try once more. just to ensure it takes," he states, doing his best to show some semblance of dominance.

but it's impossible when his hair is sticking to his sweaty forehead, his pupils blown as he gazes down at your panting form like he's about to devour you whole.

"after all, a...a big family is what god wants from man and woman, right? so we...shouldn't delay and keep trying." his hand trails up your side before finding its way to your breast, squeezing the soft flesh.

his thumb experimentally rolled your nipple, and the way your body reacted, a soft gasp of his name...how is he supposed to explain the feeling he's getting in the confessional booth?

"y-yeah," he gulps, leaning his head down. you can feel his hot breath against your tit, and you swear you feel drool drip onto your breast. "w-we'll keep trying. jus' to make sure w-we do what the scripture asks."

may god forgive him for being such a fucking liar and a damned bad one at that.

#nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami x you #nanami kento x you #nanami smut #nanami kento smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #˗ˏˋ ★ lxnarworks .ᐟ #[💳] kento .ᐟ

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wickedhawtwexler · 5 months ago

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sometimes you've gotta spend your afternoon day drinking and listening to tori amos's entire discography

#in my defense. i'm also writing. i'm being productive i'm just also drinking barefoot moscato and feeling a little sorry for myself #the event space next to me is hosting a loud outdoor event for the second day in a row #yesterday it was a sports game viewing and as soon as it was done the crowd migrated to the restaurant across the street from me #which proceeded to play loud music until midnight. so that was fun!!!!#normally i'm not that annoyed by that event space but i'm so frazzled because of all the construction going on downstairs #yesterday my next door neighbor went down and yelled at them to shut the fuck up lmaoooo #it's all fine bc i'm gonna be moving in two months so yay <3 #it's not just the noise it's like 8 other things. i've been considering a move for months this weekend was just like. the last straw lmao #i'm gonna get a cat friendly apartment with a bathtub and then all my dreams will have come true #m.txt

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tonycries · 7 months ago

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Welcome To The Itadori's! - C.K.

Synopsis. Three times Choso really, really wanted to hold you without his family barging in, and the one time he actually does.

Pairing. Best friend! Choso Kamo x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, childhood best friends to lovers, slowburn, cameos from the Itadori’s (Yuji, Jin, grandpa, SUKUNA), smút only when they’re adults, first times, oral (female receiving), cúnnilingus, marking, rough, Choso’s a bit mean in bed, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.0k

A/N. The unc-kuna brainrot got me here, Yuji’s family tree is HILARIOUS.

“You’ve never what?”

“I mean, yeah? So what if I’ve never…uh-” eyes darting to the erotic scene on-screen. “M’surely not missing out on that much.”

Maybe he was. Maybe he wasn’t. Whatever the answer was, Choso could only pray that no one walked into your apartment right now.

---

Choso swears his family is well and fully intent on ruining every waking moment with you.

He’s convinced even, at this point. Because in the 13 long years of being inseparable from you - ever since you were both whiney, snot-faced brats - Choso’s racked up more interruptions than he’s seen on those k-dramas that his grandfather swears he doesn’t watch.

It was like some cosmic joke, really. All he wanted was a moment with just the two of you…and maybe a second or two to confess his undying love. But that didn’t seem too realistic when the Itadori’s were a bit of a packaged deal, unfortunately.

Alas, Choso’s resigned himself to accept the fact that maybe - just maybe - this was the universe’s way of telling him that his pretty best friend was indeed too good for him. Something he’s suspected ever since the both of you were eight.

The realization had hit him like a semi-truck back then - five of them, in fact. And a whole zoo of animals afterward.

Of course, it’s not like that was any secret. He always thought you were perfect from the second you’d moved in - that new family next door he’d been eagerly waiting ages to arrive. And Choso, being the dutiful oldest son, was the one to deliver welcome cookies to your doorstep. Stumbling, and carefully trying to reach for the doorbell without dropping any.

“Um, welcome to-”

“Your hair’s funny.”

Now, Choso’s never greeted neighbors before, but it surely wasn’t supposed to go like this. Why was he being insulted by some little girl - you were missing a few teeth, and his had just grown back in so obviously he was much older and wiser. All unapologetic smiles and twinkling eyes as you blink up curiously at his space buns. Pretty, even when you were tearing his heart out because hey, he thought this hairstyle was cool, okay?

Which is what had him huffing and puffing back home, running straight into the arms of his dad while he tried not to cry. That is, until you came knocking at his door with your parents. Very much bawling and pulling him into a bone-crushing hug with wet mumbles of “M’sorry, meant your hair’s very cool. Wanna match-”

And, if his cheeks burned just a bit, well, Choso blamed the tears.

After a disaster like that, of course you’d grow to be best friends within the day.

But what that didn’t explain was when - after hours of bickering over whether to play tag or house - you were all tuckered out and sat beside him in a corner of his room, too exhausted to talk his ear off. Head lolling once. Twice. Falling softly onto his shoulder.

Oh.

Now, Choso might just be having the first epiphany of his entire, grueling eight years in this world - that you were very, very pretty fast asleep with your head on his shoulder.

Why? Why were you here barging into his life and turning it upside down? Calling him your “new best friend” and dragging him along wherever you went. It made his poor head absolutely spin, not daring to move a muscle so that you didn’t wake up and see this tiny predicament.

He didn’t know why. But what he did know was that he found himself subconsciously reaching for your hand, a strange little part of himself wanting to see how much smaller they were than his. They looked so soft and warm and-

“I WANNA PLAY T- Oh.”

Oh indeed. He hastily lurches away from you like it burned, hands raised like he was caught red-handed. Feeling slightly sorry when he sees you blinking away the sleep to take in your surroundings, eyes bouncing off of a very excited Yuji and resting on the clock.

“Oh no. Mommy’s gonna be mad.” you gasp, hastily getting up. And he feels a weird pang as you quickly dust down your dress, running out the door with a laughed out, “Bye, Yuji! See ya later, Cho~!”

“Bye, crybaby.”

And then it’s quiet. Only Choso still staring after you, and Yuji staring at his older brother, somewhat awestruck and wondering only one thing-

“Big bro, why are you so red?”

Choso doesn’t think he’s gotten a moment alone with you since that first initial meeting.

Fourteen was definitely the worst, in his opinion.

“Hey, Cho, y’know the girl sitting next to me in math said she had her first kiss today.”

“Oh.” It’s all Choso can manage to get out, paying more attention than he should to the gravel beneath him as he tries not to trip over air beside you. Hot under his uniform collar at the sudden shift in conversation from the usual after-school banter.

Looping your arm with his, you heave out a playful sigh, “I wonder what that feels like. Have you ever thought about it?”

No, but Choso has never thought that he’d be here - face burning at your body pressed up against his. Just knowing that his ancestors above are laughing at what a loser he is, barely able to stammer out an answer to your question.

Okay, maybe he was being dramatic. Because it wasn’t like he hadn’t thought about kissing before - it’s just that whenever it popped into his mind, you were usually accompanying him. Along with those strange thoughts of whether your lips are as soft as they looked? Or would your heartbeat be as fast as-

“Man, are you even listening?”

Shit.

Your hand waving in front of Choso’s face brings him back to reality. Blinking hastily, he tries to gather his thoughts, mumbling out a quick, “Uh, yeah, sorry. Just lost in thought.” averting his gaze as he feels the heat rise to his cheeks at your intense gaze.

Your smile only widens, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you nudge his side. “Thinking so hard about kissing, huh? Cho, you lecher!”

“Am not.”

“Am to.”

“Am not.”

“Am to.”

“Who were you imagining it with, huh? Gonna give ‘em a big smooch tomorrow?”

God, you were going to be the death of him. “N-no! I haven’t even- shut up, crybaby, it’s not like-” he sputters out useless protests over your laughter - his favorite song, even when you were teasing the hell out of him. But ah how you relish in his embarrassment, tittering out little giggles all the way until you’re steering him onto your lane.

Choso, on the other hand, keeps wishing the ground would swallow him up more and more with each step towards his porch. He’d have broken into a sprint right then if he hadn’t known you and the way you’d race him there instead.

“Alright.” you declare once you’re stood at his front door, jolting Choso out of his reverie. And he’s barely opening his mouth to register your words before you plowing on confidently. “We’ll just have to practice our first kisses with each other.”

Perfect. Great. Wonderful.

The final nail on his coffin. You might as well have planted a bombshell right in the middle of his already-chaotic world with the way he was reeling in- shock? Fear? Anticipation?

“Practice.” Choso whispers, more to himself than you. Yet you nod anyway, eyes locked with his like you were studying his reaction. “For…practice.”

Doubt starts to creep into your pretty features, “Well, we don’t have to if you do-”

“No no no no, I want- ahem.” he cringes at the pathetic desperation in his voice. Desperately trying to scramble back some semblance of sanity as he clears his throat, “I want to. Just-” Choso urgently looks around for- ah, there it is.

Dragging over the brick from the side of his porch because goddammit he might be 14 but he sure hadn’t hit that growth spurt yet. “Practice, right?”

You nod with a fiery determination that, later on, would make Choso chuckle with fondness. Muttering out a firm, “Practice.” Letting the boy in front of you nervously leans closer, breath fanning your face. And shit if you were nervous then you didn’t show it, but Choso felt like he was about to spontaneously combust.

Brows furrowing in concentration, eyes only squinting ever-so-slightly as he takes peaks at how pretty you looked. Close enough that he could count every lash as your pretty eyes closed shut, lips glistening with that strawberry chapstick you loved, puckering adorably. Only inching closer and-

Click!

“You two are so cute! But um- dear, how do you mute this thing?”

You spring apart so fast that Choso wouldn’t be surprised if you’d teleported. He doesn’t even know what’s happening before, from the safety of about three meters away from him, you’re muttering out an embarrassed little, “Hi there, Mr. Itadori. The gardenia are coming along nicely.”

His dad smiles like he hadn’t just starred in what was likely Choso’s villain origin story. Waving happily, “Aww, thank you, sweetheart. Now, why don’t you two go back to doing your lil’ thing and I can ah- practice my photography.”

“Dad, I’m running away.”

That practice kiss never happens. And, well, if there was a proudly framed photo down the hallway of the two of you - with Choso absolutely bright red and standing comically on a brick to meet your height, faces nervously scrunching towards each other - well, neither of you ever mention it. Jin Itadori does, though - every time you come over, in fact.

It’s only when you’re both eighteen, when Choso’s a lot deeper in his feelings - and only slightly less embarrassed about it - that he thinks that maybe not all family interruptions were that bad.

Graduation was…something. Not exactly something that he’s sure if he’ll ever want to relive with the sheer amount of awkward photos and tears that his dad lets out. God if he has to shuffle into another-

“You alright, Cho?”

Ah.

Traitorously, a smile makes its way onto his face, peering down at your beaming face. Both of you having made it way past the awkward early teens. Well, at least you certainly have - Choso still feels like the same awkward little boy with an even more awkward crush. “Hm? Yeah, m’great.”

“Are ya sure? Because you look like you’re about to have an aneurysm any second now.” you raise a brow teasingly. Ah, how gorgeous you were - even when you’re picking him apart.

“Yeah. Great. Only had this smile plastered on for the last five hours.”

“Aww, but you look so pretty smiling.” you shrug, with the audacity of someone that didn’t just have Choso’s knees dangerously weak. “Anyway- A bunch of us are gonna try to convince ol’ Yaga to let us take photos with his shades, you wanna come?”

“You think m’pretty?” he muses, embarrassingly late.

“Cho.”

“Yaga. Shades. Got it.” Choso mock salutes, drinking in the little laugh it startles out of you, eyes sparkling with mischief and looking right into his soul. Beautiful. You were always beautiful.

And Choso can’t just stand around and do nothing about it.

“Crybaby, look, I-” Fists clenching, he takes a steadying breath. The heat only rising to his cheeks at your awaiting gaze, “I…”

“HEY, GRANDPA HELPED STEAL YAGA’S SHADES LET’S TAKE A PIC-”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP ITADORI. YOU’RE RUINING A MOMENT, LET THEM HAVE THEIR MOMENT.”

“I don’t know either of you two.”

It would be a miracle for a moment not to be ruined with two overly-energetic first-years (and a very reluctant Fushiguro) pushing their way into your little bubble. Choso bites back a groan as you’re immediately swarmed by a bickering Kugisaki and Yuji, one apologizing for “ruining your k-drama moment” and the other trying to get you to put on some sunglasses. Well, at least he could empathize with the black-haired boy, who gave him an apologetic nod.

He’s only halfway through waving off the interruption before a voice speaks up from his side. “Why didn’t you say it?”

Whirling around, Choso comes face-to-face with the disappointed look on his grandfather’s face. Already having some idea of what you mean, “Wha-”

“I may be old but m’not deaf, yet, boy. Why didn’t ya tell her?” he sighs, tilting his head to where you were wearing those shades and taking ridiculous pictures with two animated first-years.

“I don’t know what you-”

“M’not blind, either. Quite frankly I’m insulted.”

And, well, if there’s anyone that he can’t hide from - it would be his grandfather. So he heaves out a defeated sigh, touselling his hair while muttering out a pathetic little, “M’not- Ugh, she’s too fuckin’ perfect and I…I chickened out.”

Choso doesn’t know what he expected in response but it definitely wasn’t for his grandfather to laugh. Full, and raspy - loud enough that even you stop to stare. “Thought so, idiot boy.” he chuckles, drawing indignant protests. “Did she tell you?”

Raising a brow, “What?”

“Did she tell you that you weren’t good ‘nough for her?”

“No, but-” Whatever protest on the tip of Choso’s tongue is cut off by a rough hand smacking his back in what he thinks is reassurance, but felt more like a punishment for being such a pussy around you all these years.

“Then go. Ya might just be surprised. After all, you’re my grandson, and all the ladies at bingo love me.”

Shaking with both adrenaline and the effort to keep that image out of his mind, he makes his way towards you. Purposeful. Pointedly ignoring the matching smirks flashed his way.

“You really think they’ll finally get together today?” Fushiguro deadpans from where he’d snuck up beside the old man, in an attempt to escape the public nuisances he calls ‘friends’.

Choso’s grandfather hums thoughtfully, watching the scene play out before him - Choso flushed such a delicate shade of pink as you playfully put Yaga’s sunglasses on him. Settling on a gruff, “I’ll give it a few months more. He’s my grandson, after all.”

“That’s generous. I’d give it a couple years more.”

“Wanna bet, brat?”

“...”

Safe to say, his second button ended up safely in your hands that day. But Fushiguro would be the one to really win the bet.

Because it was only 2 years, 4 months and 3 weeks after this little incident that Choso finally had you exactly where he wanted - with no interruptions. All for him.

Freshly twenty one, splayed out on your apartment bedroom and having a conversation that he never in a million years would’ve even dared to imagine he’d have - with you of all people. All because of that stupid R-rated film you’d put on for movie night.

“You’ve never what?” you gape, turning down the volume to those painfully fake moans coming from the tv.

Oh, how gorgeous you looked - all shocked and batting your lashes up at him in surprise. Choso almost swoons inwardly (and outwardly) before he realizes that shit you were probably waiting for an answer.

“I mean, yeah?” he sputters out, cheeks heating up as you lean in closer to hear him. Close. “So what if I’ve never…uh-” eyes darting to the erotic scene on-screen. “M’surely not missing out on that much.”

Goddammit, some strange, carnal part of himself twinges dangerously at the little smirk that curls your lips. One that he quickly - and embarrassingly - realizes has the blood rushing straight to his cock. Humming a low, “Maybe. Maybe not.” The mattress dips slightly as you shift closer, lips ghosting his ear. “Want me to help you find out?”

Which is, well, how Choso found himself shoved against the armrest. Blanket thrown on the floor now, swollen cock leaking furiously through his pants as your pretty lil’ cunt hovers above his mouth. So wet that if he stuck his tongue out he could have you dripping all onto him.

“Y-you sure about this, sweetheart?” he hisses despite his hands looping around your thighs, bringing you closer to him.

You raise a brow, “Are you sure, Cho?”

He should say no. He should laugh this all off as a bad joke. He shouldn’t ruin this friendship - but oh how badly he wants just a taste of your dripping pussy - see if she’s as sweet as the rest of you is. So, throwing caution to the wind, Choso nods slowly. “Yes. Want it s’bad.”

Grinning wickedly, you whisper, “Thought so.” And then he’s pulling you onto his mouth, hot and urgent.

“Oh fuck-” he groans, eyes rolling to the back of his head at the first taste of your sweet sweet juices. “Shit shit shit.” So sloppily licking up your swollen folds - barely moving with any method or patience, just that he’s drunk on your pussy and wants more more more-

“Hngh- f-fuck. You sure this is your hah- first time, Cho?” you gasp breathlessly. And oh your best friend was so fucking beautiful. Dark hair untied and tousled, eyes half-hooded, your slick already smearing across the bottom half of his face and trickling down his jaw because shit he was so messy. So addicted to that desperate expression on your face that he just can’t help but tease you a little bit.

“Mhm?” he smirks, tongue swirling around your pulsing clit. Purposefully missing right where you wanted him the most because shit he loved those cute lil’ whines spilling out of you.

You let out a huff, hips trying pathetically to inch him closer - but Choso wasn’t budging. Holding you so firmly by the hips that you’re sure he leaves bruises, licking all over your cunt except for your clit. “Cho.” you warn. Brows furrowing in frustration at the way he bats his long lashes up at you so deceivingly innocently, “What?”

“You know…”

“I don’t.” he titters teasingly into your pussy.

“Choso.”

Now, Choso’s known and seen everything there is to do with you - but never like this. Spread open shamefully and pouting so adorably on top of him, so needy for him. It made his head spin to think of just how much the dynamics had shifted.

Shit, he really should’ve watched that godforsaken movie with you sooner. “Tell me what you want, crybaby.”

And oh how his cock twitches at the way you manage to get out an embarrassed little, “Wan’ you to ngh- tonguefuck me properly. Wanna cum on your pretty face, Cho.”

And that’s all that’s said before he’s surging forward, glossy lips wrapping around your pulsing clit to suck harshly. Rolling his soft tongue over and over-

“Wanted this for so long.” Choso mutters, muffled as he buries himself deeper into your pretty pussy. The vibrations sending white-hot pleasure running down your spine. “You have absolutely no idea, pretty.”

And you barely even have the time to register his little confession before Choso’s moving down to bully his tongue past your folds. Nose pressing against your throbbing clit as he dips into your sloppy hole.

“Oh shit. Jus’ like that.” For a beginner, your best friend really knew what he was doing. Eating you out like his favorite meal, tongue squeezing into your snug pussy to thrust in and out, swipe against your walls, stretching you out right to his will. Over and over-

“Use me.”

Your eyes snap down to meet the pure adoration in his eyes as he makes out filthily with your cunt. Choking out a little, “What?”

“Use me.”

There it was again - that strained little mantra. And as if to prove his point, Choso reaches out to deftly place your hands on his head, bucking into you touch.

And, well, how could you say no to that?

Because before you know it, you’re bunching Choso’s soft strands in your fists. Angling him just right to ride his pretty face. “C’mon, Cho. Ngh- H-harder, jus’ a bit- Oh!” he just devours the way your mouth drops into an adorable little oh! as his tongue curls deftly against that one spot. Again and again. Letting himself be so used, dragging your dripping cunt harder on his mouth.

And he likes it. Hell, he loves it even - because you’re so sweet n’ pretty on his mouth. Better than everything he’s ever been dreaming of for the past few years. And always in his dreams, you’d be clenching so deliciously around his tongue when you were close - just like right now.

So he speeds up his movements, breathing you in maddeningly. A hand snaking down from it’s favorite place on your hips to draw quick, frenzied little circles on your poor, ravaged clit. Jaw almost aching with how filthily he was dripping in and out of your entrance - be he did give a shit. Only wanting to have you breathless and creaming all over his face.

You jerk violently on top of him, “Hah! S’too much, Cho. M’so close- gonna cum- gonna-”

And then you’re cumming. Fast, and hard.

Plushy walls clamping down on Choso’s tongue, hips stuttering on his face as he laps up all your juices, an arm around your waist helping you ride his face through your high.

“S’sweet. Could get used to that.” he slurs into your cunt. Tipping his head back as far as it’d go to let the last of your juices slide down his throat. “Better than I imagined.”

The words ring in your ears as you blink back your vision. Deliriously whirling down to look down at Choso - still beneath you and looking more smug and content than you’d ever seen him. “Imagination? S’that why you’re so good.”

“No.”

You’re being flipped before you know it. Manhandled so easily by your best friend as he lays you on your back, sinking into the cushion while he looms above you. “S’jus’ that…” grunting as he flings his shirt off, “Been dreaming of your pretty cunt on m’tongue for years.”

Okay, now his confession hits - more than it did when he was tonguefucking you into insanity, anyway.

“Years, huh?” you breathe out, eyes roaming all over his sculpted torso. Taking in every dip and curve of Choso’s toned abs - all the way from his broad shoulders to the rock-hard cock straining against his pants. As if in a trance, your hand reaches out to cup his leaking erection, “S’that all you’ve been dreaming of?”

“You little minx.” he lets out a low hiss.

Before you can even react, Choso’s fumbling with that belt - cursing because shit, he’d have worn sweatpants instead if he knew they’d end up on your floor.

And you’re not any better, fingers popping open his buttons and tugging impatiently and oh- You always thought that your best friend would have a big dick - but this? He was so intimidatingly long - and thick enough that you wondered whether you’d hurt yourself. Fat tip flushed such a pretty shade of pink to match his cheeks, leaking down down down, all the way to his heavy balls.

You’re only jolted out of your little reverie by Choso spitting a steady stream of spit onto your quivering cunt, spreading it lazily across your pussy with his thumb. A ringed fist pumping his cock slowly, as he drags his tip across your folds, pooling your sweet juices. Muttering out a raspy, “I’ll be gentle.”

“You better not be, now jus’ fuck me-”

Well, you didn’t have to ask Choso twice. Because you’ve barely gotten the words out before he’s bullying massive cock into your tight cunt. Pressing in inch by fucking inch as you gasp and buck underneath him.

“Shhh, s’okay, crybaby. This is what you wanted, right?” he mumbles, with all the audacity of someone that wasn’t fucking into you in rapid, mindless little jabs to fit inside your snug lil’ pussy. Struggling to hold back at this point. “Wanted to be split apart on m’cock?”

You were so full of him. Even more so when he throws your legs over his shoulders, bending all the way down and folding you in half so easily beneath him.

He drinks in the barely-lucid squeal that leaves your swollen lips. Kissing your forehead gently, whispering against the skin, “Because I’ve wanted this for so fucking long.”

And then it was like something snapped - maybe his sanity, maybe the restraint that Choso’s been holding back for too long. Because immediately he’s plunging his throbbing cock into you - all the way till his balls, all angry and squeezing so painfully, smacks against your ass.

“Wanted this.” he rasps into your open mouth. His hips were out of control now, thrusting you in shallow, desperate rams. Pounding into you like a man possessed, and running his mouth just as much. He laces his fingers on top of your head, pushing you down even deeper into his relentless cock - as if the bastard wasn’t fucking you dumb already. “Fuckin’ needed this needed this. Shit- so bad.”

“Ch-Choso- fuck hah-” you plead as his mouth clashes with yours. All sloppy with teeth and spit and his profanities - and it felt so damn good.

“Yeah? Who’s fucking you silly, now?” he’s going harder now, tip hitting your poor cervix over and over. And you’d be sobbing at the burn and the stretch but all you can think of is shit this is Choso - the kid you used to play hide and seek with. And now he seems fully intent on breaking you. “Say m’name.”

A rough thumb starts toying with your clit, in time with the cute lil’ whines of his name that escape your mouth like a prayer. “Shit. Y’look so pretty like this.” he babbles. “Gonna cry, pretty girl?” smirking down at the way you were too cockdrunk to even snap back, only looking up at him with delirious, teary eyes. “Be a crybaby for my cock?”

You’re tugging on his hair, thighs shaky and bucking upwards. “Cho-”

“Mhm?”

“W-wanna cum. Need you to fill m’up till I can’t take it anymore.”

Oh if Choso was any lesser man he’d have cum right then and there. Instead settling for a guttural groan, drunk off the way you were milking his cock so hard as if to prove your point. It almost made him want to stay like this forever. But no - not right now.

“Oh yeah?” Hips becoming sloppy now, “Need it? Shit- m’so close.” Each word slurred, punctuated by a harsh thrust, strokes long and frenzied. Using your heavenly pussy like his personal fucktoy. So hard that he’s sure you’d have embarrassing matching bruises tomorrow - his balls on your ass, your nails raking down his shoulders.

“Me too- fuck fuck fuck-” you mewl into his neck, as Choso buried his face into yours.

“Cum f’me, my girl.”

My girl.

And then you are - and he is. And you don’t know who cums first, just that you’re seeing stars behind your eyes and Choso’s teeth digging into your neck as he thrusts once. Twice. Before cumming and cumming so hard he might as well have seen the pearly gates of heaven. And you were an angel.

Thick, hot ropes of cum that paint your walls white, so much that it gushes out of your poor overfilled pussy. Dripping down your legs and pooling into a sinful, creamy ring at his base.

“Mm- shit. Choso.” you moan, barely audible over the lewd squelches from below.

“M’here, my girl.” he grits out, voice shot. And it seems that that was his new favorite nickname, because Choso keeps murmuring it over and over as he keeps fucking his seed into you. Not even thinking about it at this point - just mindless, shallow grinds of his hips.

In the haze of your orgasm, you think you hear his quiet voice, strained with exhaustion and something that you weren’t in the right state of mind to decipher right now.

“Shhh, m’here. “Can’t believe I waited so fuckin’ long.” Whispering against your lips, “Love this. Love this pretty cunt.” Kissing softly, “Love the way y’take me. Fuckin’ made f’me.” And maybe even a soft little, “Love you.”

And maybe - just maybe, you whisper the same into his. Kissing him softly, exactly the way you’d wanted to all these years.

Neither of you speak after that. Not when Choso’s hips stall, body sticky and collapsing onto yours. Nor do you speak when he pulls away with a playful nip to your lower lip - a promise. Searching through your clothes for a washcloth he can wipe yourselves clean with.

It’s only when he settles back under the covers beside you, looking at you with such dark, hazy eyes - whirling with too many emotions to name - that the silence is broken.

“Crybaby.”

“Cho.”

“Corny.”

“You started it.”

Chuckling, Choso pulls your body close to his. Not even a hair’s breadth between you two because shit now that he’s got you, he doesn’t think he ever wants to let you go.

“Y’know…” he starts, “I think we should- I mean- if you want…” nervous now more than he was even after all that just transpired. Cheeks flaring as he meets your amused gaze, just daring him to go on - because you saw through him. You always did. “I lov-”

“Am I late for the mov- WHAT THE FUCK I ALWAYS KNEW BRATS WEREN’T JUST FRIENDS-”

---

Itadori Family Groupchat + Two More

Dad: Hey, all. I can’t seem to get a hold of Choso to confirm tomorrow’s dinner plans. Can anyone else let me know if he’s ok? XX

-Jin.

Yuji <3: He’s probs at rhat “best friend movie night” still

Dad: Hello, Yuji. What is a “probs”? XX

-Jin.

Kugisaki: He’s suspiciously quiet, though… Y’all think that “best friend movie night” is codeword for something else?

Yuji <3: Better not be cuz Sukuna stole my sparw key sayin something ab crashing it idk

Kugisaki: *spare

And you just LET him?

Yuji <3: HE THREATENED TO BURN MY MEGAN THEE STALLION POSTER

…

AND DID IT ANYWAY

Kugisaki: L

Fushiguro: L

Gramps: L

Sukuna (do not answer): DID Y’ALL KNOW THOSE TWO WERE FUCKIN????

*Fushiguro has left the chat*

Dad: :0

-Jin.

A/N. Spiritually, this is a crackfic idk.

#choso x reader #choso smut #choso x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #choso kamo x reader #choso kamo smut #choso kamo x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen #choso #tonywrites #choso kamo

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fairy-angel222 · 9 months ago

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𝐃𝐈𝐋𝐅 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐃𝐎𝐎𝐑 𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

—in which toji is constantly fucking women and disturbing your peace. your complaints lead to you becoming one of them.

pairing: toji fushiguro x fem! college reader

cw: smut, breeding, daddy kink, size kink, age gap, toji being a cocky prick, unsafe sex, ass slapping, mentions of cervix touching

Ever since you heard about your next door neighbor Mr. Fushiguro going through a divorce, things have been hell. For you.

From the day he first moved into the apartment, constantly arguing on the phone with his ex wife about whose turn it was to watch his son, Megumi.

When Megumi is over, everything’s quiet, and you finally get a chance to rest your head and relax in peace. Doing some studying and cleaning in the quiet atmosphere.

You wished the black haired boy would stay for just a day longer, because Toji is back to his usual self hours later. Bringing in young college girls one after the other. Fucking them hard against his headboard as they let out loud cries of daddy. It was annoying. You could even stay inside anymore to get work done.

At every hour of the day he seemed to be active, fucking through all sorts of women, the shaking of your thin bedroom wall never coming to an end as high pitched moans echoed through.

It was getting to the point where you couldn’t take it. You were so fed up. Didn’t he ever get tired? Tired of promising these young desperate girls to call them back only to throw away their numbers and fuck their friends the next day.

Weeks go by and nothing changes, Megumi coming over for a silent three days then leaving again. Giving his father enough time to fuck any feelings for his ex wife out of his system.

You swore you couldn’t take it, you had barely been able to study, occasionally spending an hour or two in a nearby café between classes. When you noticed your grades slipping, your eyes having prominent bags at the lack of sleep, you groan loudly in frustration. Finding your legs moving before you could even process it.

Your fist raising to knock on the man’s door once, then twice, with no answer. You huffed, going in to knock a third time before the door swung open. A tall, muscular man towering over you with a scowl. “What?”

Your eyes widened as you scanned over his body, his perfectly sculpted face, broad shoulders, defined abs, and the very distinct outline in his sweats.

The man cleared his throat, a smirk gracing his face when he startled you out of your intense drooling. “Now, what do we have here?” he chuckled deeply, tilting his head to the side with crossed arms as he rested against the door’s frame. “Here to get your turn doll?”

You gulped, finding it harder to spit out your words as the Fushiguro man stared you down. “I.. I’m here to ask you to keep the noise down, some people have actual work to do.”

Toji whistled, “Oh? A bold one huh? I like it,” His hand reaching under your chin to make you look fully up at him. “you’re a pretty little thing you know,” he spoke, running his thumb along your bottom lip, “wonder what you’d look like ruined underneath me.”

You ignored the flutter that went off in your pussy, clenching your thighs discreetly as you glared. “Just keep the noise down okay old man? I'm trying to study.”

Toji could feel his cock grow harder, you were just what he needed. “So i’m an old man now? That’s a first, usually girls like you just call me daddy.” he shrugged, “but it’s okay, you’ll get there.”

You rolled your eyes as you walked away from him, annoyance written all over your face to mask the arousal swirling in your stomach. He’d probably fucked the entire neighborhood by now, including the campus, so you weren’t gonna fall for his sick charms. You just hoped he complied and kept the place quiet, you didn’t need that usual noise the day before your big test.

Toji had surprisingly did as you asked, and you sighed in content as you read through the pages of your notes. Your pen in your hand finding itself in between your teeth as you bit down softly. You got what you wanted, so why was your mind running wild with thoughts of the Fushiguro man’s hands on your body as he fucked you like all of those other girls.

You shifted in your seat, one leg over the other to bring stimulation to your needy clit making you whimper softly. You couldn’t let yourself give in.

Another week passed and you once again found yourself in the same noisy predicament. Your mind couldn’t help but wander to the man more than twice your age. Way too old for you yet just so.. hot. Toji Fushiguro had become your fantasy.

And it was unbearable.

Hearing all these moans day and night. Hearing Toji’s loud grunts and groans as he no doubt left them with the best fuck of their lives.

It was Thursday, and Megumi would be coming tomorrow per routine, so you’d finally get a break then. But, you couldn’t deny the fact that you wanted an excuse to go over there. Your face serious as you banged on his door.

You waited a minute, a shirtless Toji emerging into the door frame as it flew open. Toji smirked, “Ah, you again.” His sweatpants hung dangerously low beneath the start of his v line, black hair messy as his tongue darted out to swipe across his lips. “Finally came to your senses?”

His last fuck had left right before you came, coincidentally of course.

“N-no.” you objected sternly. “I’m here to ask you again to just be.. what are yo-“

You swallowed hard when he began stalking towards you, a sinister grin on his face as you were backed up against a wall. His breath fanned your head as he bent his neck. Hands on the walls near each side of your face. “Your face says otherwise, doll.”

“No it d-doesn’t.. you’re just a cocky old man preventing me from getting things done.”

Toji’s brow raised with a deep hearty chuckle, “Back to that nickname i see,” His hand grabbing hold of your cheeks and squeezing them together. “Gonna have to clean that mouth of yours, teach you how to be a good girl.”

You whimpered lowly, feeling wetness pool between your legs as you looked up through your lashes. Toji’s eyes trailing to your glossy lips as he inhaled sharply. “Don’t worry, this dirty old man’s lips are clean”

Pressing his lips roughly to yours, your eyes widening as you gripped the edge of your skirt with a moan. Toji smirked against your lips, his hands hooking beneath your legs as he lifted you up. Your frame so much smaller in comparison to his larger one.

Toji was quick to bring you inside. And you found yourself sitting on the man’s lap, your skirt bunched up at your hips as he hammered up into your wet cunt with brute force. His hands kneading into the flesh of your ass each time you ground your hips onto him.

You let out a loud mewl, his thick cock stretching you out and grazing against your gummy walls as he fucked you deep. Feeling him within your stomach when you cried out. “Fushiguro-san— ah, so- ngh g-ood.”

“That’s not my name doll, try again.” he growled deeply, landing his palm onto your ass in a hard slap. And you whimpered tearfully at the sting. “T-toji—” Another harsh smack burning through your flesh making you let out a cry. “Last chance.”

You moaned loudly, your back arching as Toji slammed into you. “D-daddy, ahh daddy, o-oh fuckk—,”

Toji hummed in satisfaction, “Look at you, thought i was a dirty old man hmm?” His teeth biting softly at the delicate skin of your neck, his pelvis hitting your red puffy folds relentlessly. “Moaning for me like a little slut, so fucking pretty.”

You let out a shaky cry, “Haah— F-fushiguro-san,” Your pussy clenched down on his girth, his rough hand making its way around your throat, squeezing the sides and forcing you to look at him. “Not gonna fucking tell you again.”

You mewled, “‘M sorry— nngh,” Your back arching when Toji bullied his cock deeper into you.

“Still waiting doll.” he grunted, eyes dark as his grip on your throat tightened, your moans and whimpers loud as his thighs noisily met your sticky cunt. “D-addy— ahh- so good,” you cried, feeling his angry tip forcing its way to your cervix, kissing the entrance with each harsh thrust.

“Good fucking girl, you’re getting there” he grinned with a groan. A creamy ring formed around the base of his cock, your pussy gushing messily onto him as loud squelching sounds filled the room. “Pussy’s so fucking tight— better be on the pill cause i’m botta cum in that pretty pussy, shit.”

“Ah— nngh daddy, ‘m close- gonna cum.” you whimpered, your eyes rolling back and your lips parting in a string of incoherent babbles, Toji’s thrusts sloppy as he groaned.

“Gonna cum on this old man’s dick yeah?” He teased cockily, “Had so much talk for someone who’s falling apart on my cock.” Toji grunted, “Bet ya sat there listening like a lil perv, your hand down your panties hmm?”

You shook your head no with a cry, “Uh uh- ahh— wasn’t.”

“Sure about that? Sure you didn’t sit there and fantasize about me fucking you like a little slut?” His hand reached down to rub at your clit, a loud moan escaping your mouth.

Your breathing sped up as you felt a coil buildup in your stomach. Your body shaking with pure ecstasy. You let out a high pitched scream, the stimulation to your g spot making your head go fuzzy. Vision turning white as you clenched down tightly on Toji’s cock.

“O-oh fuck— ‘m cumming— ah, cumming daddy.” Toji’s hand pressed down harder on your throat, the pressure restricting your air flow making you let out a choked mewl. Tears welling in your eyes as his heavy balls smacked against your ass.

“Nngh—” The ring of white thickened at his base as you let out whiny cries. Toji’s hand working small circles on the sensitive bud before he brought his lips to your ear. His voice deep and gruff as he groaned. “Fuck doll- squeezing me so tight, come on and scream for me.” He breathed, “make a mess on my cock.”

Toji’s mean pace became too much, a tight pull in your stomach as your mouth fell open, legs trembling with loud cries as an unfamiliar feeling washed over you.

It was heavenly, your brain going dumb and your pupils disappearing behind heavy lids as you screamed loudly, head falling back and nails digging into his shoulders as you fell off the edge.

Toji never slowing the movement of his hips, still hammering up into you despite the mess you were making on his thighs. Your pussy spraying streams after streams of clear liquid as you arched your hips, grinding back and forth to ride out your squirting orgasm.

“Even fucking louder than any of my previous fucks.” he laughed, “Wonder what the neighbors would say, went from being a whiny little bitch to being the same thing you complained about.”

You let out a whine, Toji flipping you abruptly onto your back, his hand still around your neck as the position allowing him to hit even deeper. “Fuck,” he grunted, his words in between each thrust. “gonna fucking breed that pussy so deep.” Letting out a low groan at the last thrust, his lips meeting yours in a sloppy kiss as he bottomed out.

A whimper fell past your lips into his when you felt him fill you up, his cum shooting in hot thick spurts along the walls of your cunt.

He smirked as he pulled away, watching you pant heavily. “Would make such a good breeding bunny.” Dipping his fingers past your lips and resting them on the back of your tongue. “Might have to keep you around, can’t be disturbed if you’re the one making the noise now can you?”

You shook your head tiredly, forcing your eyes to stay open as Toji pulled out of you. His sticky cum seeping out of your fluttering pussy slowly. Your brain was still so clouded, blinking in and out of blurry vision.

Toji hid the smile threatening to creep up onto his face, his face neutral as he plopped down onto the couch next to you. “Rest if you need to, then leave.” He said nonchalantly, trying to seem like his usual self despite the fact that he had not kicked you out yet. Which was something he never did, let a girl stay any longer than a second after sex.

The man would never admit it, but there was just something about you.

He wanted to make you his pretty little doll.

#jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk #jjk x reader smut #toji x reader smut #toji smut #toji x reader #toji fushiguro #toji x you #jujutsu toji #jjk toji #toji fushigro x reader #toji fushiguro smut

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lokissweater · 16 days ago

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beetlejuice!

{beetlejuice!satoru gojo x f!reader}

— “ may you never forget me ” ♪ ༘⋆

summary: living as a psychic medium was like a ticket straight to nothing in your life, you always accidentally creeping people out and scaring them when you talked about it, and you just feeling empty— like something was missing and vacant in your life with no explanation as to why. but upon stumbling through an attic inside a house of a recently deceased couple, you meet him— beetlejuice, a silly and wacky man who was damned to live in the attic for eternity due to him breaking the rules, you never having met a spirit so forward and flirtatious in your life as you quickly bonded. but when beetlejuice presents the idea of you being able to break his contract and finally set him free, you hesitate at the one condition… marrying him.

warnings: MDNI afab!reader, DIABOLICAL angst my god, angst w/ comfort though YIPPEEE, mentions of death, mentions of murder, reader is a psychic medium, fluuufff, SMUUUTTT, p in v sex, DOM AFF SATORU MEOOWWW, unprotected sex (wrap it y’all), creampie, oral, blowie, mentions of ghosts and spirits and things, loosely inspired by the 80s movie, mentions of reader having ‘pink cheeks’ is only to amplify and over-exaggerate feelings of embarrassment, shyness, and everything in between, and not to be taken literally! this is a work of fiction, and you can imagine many things for yourself :)

word count: 19.8k

authors note: YEEEEEOOOOWWWW GET READY YALL….. SHES FREAKY… SHES ANGSTY… AND SHES THE MOMEEEENNTTTT omg i absolutely LOOOVEDDD writing this one so much and i hope you guys find it interesting or i’m gonna CRYYYY HEHEHEH no i’m jk but as always, i love you SO SO SO much and thank you for all of your love and support !! MWAAAHHH <333

you’ve always had a knack for the paranormal.

and from the newspaper clippings you saw and the meddlesome whisperings of your fellow neighbors, newlyweds adam and barbara maitland died on their way home from a day out in the town— swerving in their vehicle while crossing over a bridge and crashing through the side of it, evidently sending themselves tumbling down to the river below and drowning.

it was the biggest tragedy your tiny town had ever been hit with, the maitland’s having renovated their house on the hill from scratch and had recently just finished it when the accident happened, the both of them in the midst of planning their honeymoon to get away from winter river for a little while, happy and in love and looking forward to a quiet serene life together.

it was a shame, really, and it only took two weeks for rumors to spread about how there were always weird moving shadows from the windows of their two story home, or slight flashings of neon blue or white seeping through the cracks of their front door— all of which pissed the realtors off seeing as the rumors prevented the house from being sold again, prospected buyers coming in with high hopes only to be scared off once they so even explored the town, a store clerk or a fellow neighbor quick to tell them of the gossip and to stay away, ultimately causing the house to collect dust and cobwebs until realtors decided they wouldn’t bother much with it anymore.

and the rumors always peaked your interest, as your entire life you’ve always had a passion for the supernatural seeing as your late parents were psychic mediums for the otherworldly, a beautiful ominous gift that was relayed to you from the moment you were able to correctly comprehend sentences, your mind and soul more welcoming to spirits of the unknown compared to regular folk who flat out refused.

and why? you didn’t know. they were just mystic entities that perhaps couldn’t find their way to the other side like they were intended, and if the rumors were true, the maitland’s were in the same predicament, and you felt like they just needed time and space without the pestering of realtors or dumb kids knocking on the windows to see if a ghost would pop out— deserving of a proper chance to figure it out.

except your boyfriend wouldn’t understand that either.

“babe c’mon!” he pleaded with you, a distressed look on his face. “i thought you liked creepy ghost shit?”

you scoffed. “yes rin but not to fucking break in and steal their things! what the hell’s the matter with you?!”

rin groaned and rubbed his eyes, his friends obviously annoyed and bothered by your defiance and it only made you feel awkward, sitting there on your desk chair in your college dorm and guiltily picking at your black nail polish.

“y/n we literally cannot go if you don’t go.” he pushed. “we need your ghost brain to tell us if they’re around so we can scram if they decide to kill us.”

you snorted, already aggravated by rin’s lack of respect and wholeheartedly believing dumb stereotypes.

“you’re committing a crime—”

“the house is abandoned! no one gives a shit!” he threw his arms up. “babe c’mon i’m serious it’s getting late and we’re losing time.”

why wasn’t he listening?

“what are you looking for anyways?” you mumbled.

“money.” he replied, grabbing his black bag and swinging it over his shoulder. “that’s literally it i won’t take anything else.”

“do you swear?” you peered up at him. “don’t take jewelry or any of their things just money and we get out.”

“yeah we won’t! right guys?”

rin looked over both of his shoulders to ensure that his friends agreed, them muttering and sighing as you gnawed at the inside of your cheek and feeling embarrassed for some reason, slowly standing and crossing your arms.

you never liked his friends.

“and leave me out of it okay?” you spoke. “we could get kicked out of college for this i don’t know how you’re not worried…”

he swung a heavy arm around your shoulders and nudged you on, you stumbling a bit as he basically had a lock around your neck on your way outside.

“they’re not gonna care y/n.” he dismissed, unlocking the car and his friends piling in the back while you settled in the passenger seat. “nobody will. it’s abandoned.”

the entire way there you were aggravated and guilty, rin and his friends babbling on about the valuable things they’d hope to find and the kind of ghosts they thought would appear, not a single person in the car an actual believer of those paranormal rumors as they poked fun and teased, your forehead against the glass of the window and miserable as rin drove up the steep hill— the night chilly and so dark that you could barely make out the shape of the house until you were just about to pull up to the driveway.

rin turned off his headlights and tuned down the radio to avoid drawing attention, steering wheel shifting a little to the right so the car could gradually round over and stop next to the front steps of the porch— rin shutting off the ignition once he parked and stuffing his keys into his pocket.

and you could immediately feel a presence even from outside the house, your arms stiff and tingly as you all quietly got out of the car and made your way to the stairs, dry dirt crinkling beneath your shoes as you tried to swallow back your nerves knowing that at any moment you could all be fucking arrested.

“are you sensing ghosts?” rin whispered, a sly teasing grin on his face as the floorboards of the porch creaked with your movements, his hand reaching and jiggling the doorknob.

“yeah.”

his eyes snapped over to you. “…really? yeah right.”

“no i’m serious.” you whispered back. “what did you bring me for if you’re not even gonna believe when i tell you—”

“okay! okay i’m sorry.” he apologized, though it didn’t seem genuine as he patted your back. “i believe you trust me.”

“wait— she said there’s ghosts?” one of his friends piped up. “how do you know?”

you went to answer but rin beat you to it.

“she’s a psychic… i guess.” he unzipped his bag and pulled out a mini tool kit, a mix of screwdrivers and bobby pins inside. “she can sense them.”

“oh my god…” another one mumbled, all of his friends eerie now. “rin— i thought you said those rumors were bullshit.”

your eyes narrowed. “you said that?”

“no!— i mean, technically yes but—” he took two bobby pins from the kit and put the rest of the box away, hunching down to lock pick the knob. “you guys really think any of that is real? it’s just the neighbors man they’re bored—”

“people here don’t just make up rumors like that rin.” you cut him off. “the majority of winter river is elderly and in retirement why the fuck would they be making up—”

“because they’re old and bored—”

the lock released a prominent click and rin tested the doorknob again, this time it turning all the way and opening as he pushed it wide, you all proceeding cautiously and it somehow being colder inside than it was outside as the group shined their flashlights around every corner and space, not bothering to tell your boyfriend that the presence you felt earlier was ten times stronger now, for rin never really believed you or just thought you were being funny whenever you mentioned things like that to him.

you had known rin since the start of college, him always the rebel dickish type as he didn’t follow directions or liked whenever people tried to tell him what to do, and how you ended up crossing paths with him and it sticking was something that was a mystery to you.

rin was everything you wanted at first.

and though he was a bit selfish, you foolishly looked past the fact and let him meddle his way into your already monotonous life, it being hard for you to make friends in the first place because of your psychic abilities— always feeling like something was missing and… vacant for years growing up without any explanation as to exactly why, figuring it was just the side effects of your parents’ passing.

but it still didn’t help when you’d accidentally partake in scaring off and weirding people out when you mentioned that you just saw their deceased relative wander by, rin being one of the first to actually stay because he didn’t believe you, choosing to turn a blind eye to something you treasured about yourself the most, stuck and left to wonder if there was ever someone who did.

but turning a blind eye to just your psychic ability became him turning a blind eye to everything about you, and you felt like he never really listened to what you had to say or cared, often switching the topic back to himself or giving you a series of ‘mhm’s’ and ‘yeah’s’ to get you to move on.

you didn’t feel seen anymore, but you loved him still for some reason.

“where do we even look?” one of his friends whispered, the lot of you traveling as a group through the entry room and down the hall to the kitchen.

“wherever you think a money bank would be.” rin mumbled, leading you all and going round to the living room, his flashlight shining over dusty furniture and spiderwebs. “i think it’d be better if we split up. half of us can take upstairs and the others can look through the kitchen, y/n and i are gonna dig through here for a bit—”

“what?” you spoke, his friends nodding and walking off to their designated areas. “rin no i told you i’m not—”

“oh my god babe— would it really hurt you to just peek in some freaking drawers? let me know if something looks like it has money in it alright?”

he stepped over to the middle and crouched by the coffee table, opening and closing several compartments. “be useful please.”

you scoffed. “you’re the one who dragged me here and i told you i wasn’t getting involved.”

“you’re not.” he mumbled, standing back up and going over to a big brown dresser on the side. “just look at shit and don’t touch anything. tell me if you see money.”

you rubbed your cheek in exhausted frustration, thinking it’d be better to just mindlessly look around to appease him as you caught and stared at the photographs over by the fireplace— a wedding portrait of whom you assumed to be adam and barbara maitland propped up amongst others of family and friends, your fingers raising to gently wipe away the dirt and grime from the glass to get a clearer look of them.

you felt awful that their lives were taken from them just when they had built such a loving foundation for it, and you felt even more awful that rin and his stupid friends were invading their space and stealing in the way that they were with no sense of respect.

a sudden loud thud from upstairs made you and rin stop in your tracks, the both of you unmoving as you tried to listen.

“i’m gonna—” you gnawed at your bottom lip. “i’m gonna check upstairs—”

“no absolutely not.” rin shook his head. “it’s probably just my friends it’s fine.”

“if it’s the maitland’s your friends aren’t gonna know what to do besides shit themselves—”

“okay yeah sure.” he laughed, opening and closing different drawers from top to bottom. “it’s the house babe it’s old and worn out. maybe the— wood or whatever is acting up.”

you pursed your lips, arms crossing and apprehensive as you stood next to him, knowing with everything in you that the maitland’s were definitely still present.

“can we please just go rin...” you asked softly. “please we’ll— we’ll find a different building that’s actually abandoned and doesn’t have the maitland’s still here—”

he scoffed. “y/n this one is abandoned.“

“but it’s only been three months!” you exclaimed. “i don’t wanna do this to them—”

“—oh sweet! there’s a rolex in here—”

“no!” you snatched the watch from his upheld hand and backed away towards the fireplace. “you swore to me just money these are their things—”

“y/n they’re dead! who fucking cares? all of their shit’s gonna be donated might as well pawn it.”

“yeah for your own benefit right?” you mumbled, pushing past him and walking down the hall. “i’m going home.”

he looked at you baffled. “are you serious? over a dumb watch?”

“rin you’ve gone back on everything you promised and you’re not taking me seriously—”

“did i take the watch? no i didn’t so stop—”

“i’m not talking about just the watch!”

“you know what?! fine!” rin shoved a hand in his pocket and pulled out his keys, chucking them at you and hitting against your chest as you scrambled to catch them. “go wait in the car.”

you threw them back and they hit his upper arm, his eyes narrowing at you in return as he then bent down to grab them from the floor.

“i’m not waiting in the damn car i’m walking home.”

“you’re walking?” he shook his head. “back to your dorm? that’s gonna take you like an hour y/n.”

you shrugged.

“fine go i don’t give a shit.” rin muttered and rolled his eyes. “you always do this man—”

you didn’t bother to stick around for anything else he had to say as you trudged on down the hall and back to the main entryway, tears brimming your eyes at the lack of care he had for you and scolding yourself for the thousandth time for staying with him, trying to understand why he was like this with you when all you’ve ever done was be patient and give him the benefit of the doubt when he didn’t fucking deserve it.

it was hard for you to tell if he even loved you anymore, and you always psyched yourself out that he did whenever he’d barely just accomplish doing the bare minimum.

upon arriving at the front door, you placed the rolex gently on a lonesome night stand by the coat hanger, your hand reaching and turning the knob to step outside until another loud thud shook through the walls, and louder this time as you pulled back and craned your head to look up the stairs.

muffled voices seeped from the top as they gasped and whispered to each other to shush, you recognizing some to be rin’s friends with irritation and worry simmering in your brain, wondering if they were messing with the maitland’s things and stealing what they weren’t supposed to steal, as they were just as uncaring and selfish as rin was throughout the time that you’ve gotten to know them.

and with that in mind, you let go of the doorknob and quietly walked up the stairs, every creak and groan from the wooden slabs underneath your feet making you wince as you went further and further until you reached the top, you sighing as you saw that the maitland’s room door was wide fucking open and with snickering inside.

but with each step that you took to get closer… the more prominent the goosebumps on your arms became and the heavier the feeling in your gut grew, a strange apparent flickering light from your right blinding your vision for a moment as you stopped and turned to look.

your eyes slightly widened, a neon lime green foggy light practically oozing from the attic staircase as it streamed over half of your frame, luring you in with your body mindlessly and curiously walking towards it and up the rugged squeaky stairs, fingers quickly reaching up to swing the attic door open and halting in alarm once you did, the green aluminous light from earlier completely encasing you entirely now as you stepped forward inside the attic.

the door swung and slammed itself shut suddenly, you jumping and spinning around with hurried hands coming up to pull and tug at the knob, breathing irregular upon realizing that it wouldn’t fucking budge and was somehow jammed with no explanation as to exactly how—

“boyfriend troubles?”

“oh my god!” you screamed, hand flying over your heart as your eyes snapped to the source, a tall lanky man standing there with a little grin and vibrant pale blue eyes that only utterly confused you, his vertically stripped black and white suit peculiar and unique as your frantic eyes darted over his figure.

you knew for a fact that the strange man before you wasn’t adam maitland, for the way he looked now didn’t match the pictures you saw in the newspapers at all, you swallowing thickly and slowly backing up against the attic door with your heart dropping straight down to your ass.

who the fuck was he? was he— was he a spirit? because if not there’s a random man literally just basking and relaxing inside the—

“relax! relax jeez you look like you’re about to vomit sweets.”

sweets?

“are you dead?!” you blurted, hand scrambling behind you for the doorknob. “are you— are you alive how are you—”

he laughed loudly and wiggled his little index finger— scrunching it up and down to elicit a ‘yes’ and finding your skittishness a little funny.

“yup! so dead very dead.”

“o— oh… okay...” you spoke softly, tense shoulders gradually relaxing as you gave him a small timid smile, relieved that he wasn’t a freaking squatter and doing god knows what up in the attic.

“you seem happier to see a dead man rather than a live one...” he looked at you amusedly. “you like ghosts? scary stuff? haunted houses? handsome me?—”

you nearly choked on your spit at his last comment, an awkward smile wobbling across your face as you played with your fingers.

“i— i um..” you looked around, your eyes catching a book titled ‘handbook for the recently deceased’ sitting neatly on a dusty table by the door. “you could say that.. but—”

you hesitated, the man’s head tilting to the side as he waited for you to continue.

“but what pretty?”

you blushed furiously, never having met a spirit so forward before.

“sorry but— how did you end up here?” you stood on your tippy toes to peer over his shoulders and around the attic. “and where are the maitlands?”

“oh, those lousy goodie two shoed meanies?” he mumbled, pouting and bitter as he crossed his arms. “beats me..”

you laughed a little, guard slowly coming down as he didn’t seem or feel like a bad person to you, and you thought that perhaps he was in the same boat as the maitlands and was just trying to find his way to the other side.

“why are they meanies?” you smiled, and he reciprocated, arms falling to his sides.

“well— i’m kind of being held in the attic against my will by the— holy shit wait!”

he threw his hands out in front of him and took quick stride full steps towards you, a wild excited expression on his face and you stiffening up again, backing up against the door.

“you can help me!”

“help… you..?” you squeaked.

he vigorously nodded. “yeah! the butthead caseworkers down in the netherworld banned me from leaving the attic… but you can give me a little leg room in my contract sweets!”

netherworld— caseworkers— banned—

“huh?!” you exclaimed, brows furrowed and utterly confused at everything he was fucking saying.

you’ve only ever seen spirits from afar or casually talked to them about something fleeting before they went on their marry way, but never in your life have you met such a complex soul that was so animate and asking you for a favor straight off the bat… as spirits usually just— knew what they were doing and eventually figured out how to get to the great beyond.

so the subject of caseworkers and the netherworld and whatever the fuck else he was rambling on about was something you were not familiar with.

“i did something they didn’t like.” he gave you a boyish half smile. “so they did some ritual thing and now i can’t leave the attic.”

you frowned. “why would they do that? what did you do?”

he waved you off and swung an arm around your shoulders, pulling you forward with him towards a huge 3D model in the center of the room that you barely just noticed— intricate and detailed and colorful as your brain put two and two together and figured out that it was a model of the entire city of winter river.

“don’t worry about it! but i overheard juno telling her assistants not to say my name three times or else i’ll be let out to roam around the house—”

juno? who’s juno?

“—and that’s why i really need you sweets because i’m dying in this fucking attic… way more than i already am.”

you blinked at him. “i’ve never— i’ve seen spirits all my life and i’ve never had any of them tell me about caseworkers? and juno? who’s juno?”

“the rule is that the land of the living isn’t supposed to know.” he pursed his lips and dropped his arm from your shoulders, picking up the book that you had spotted earlier and passing it to you. “says it in the handbook.”

you timidly took it from him and flittered through the pages, old and crinkly and a little worn out as the gist of the pages you saw was a guide for those beginning their post-livelihood and the steps they needed to do so— from waiting rooms in the netherworld to being assigned a caseworker to help you out to the great beyond and so forth, your eyes falling on a particular page and catching specific line.

‘live people ignore the strange and unusual.’

they do. wrongfully they do.

and since people had been ignoring you out of fear your whole life… did that mean you were strange and unusual too?

“what?” the unknown man spoke, softly as his blue gaze switched between your solemn expression and the book, shifting his position to stand right next to you and see what you were looking at.

“oh sorry!” you laughed it off, closing the book and placing it down. “nothing i was just—”

“‘live people ignore the strange and unusual?’” he repeated. “what about it?”

you shook your head and sent him a small smile. “nothing! i was just looking—”

“just because you can see spirits doesn’t mean you’re strange or unusual.”

you stilled, eyes big as you watched the way he froze up over what he said, sheepishly relaxing after a moment and lifting an arm to pat over your head.

“sorry pretty. i can read and manipulate minds and i poked in yours...” he looked at you apologetically. “it’s another reason why they threw me in this shit hole.”

he dropped his hand then, a sincere glint in his eyes. “but i mean it.”

“i don’t know…” you mumbled, looking down and playing with the hem of your skirt. “i’ve never really had friends because of it… and i feel like that book kind of confirmed what i’ve been thinking.”

you quickly picked your head up. “oh but— it’s okay! i’m okay i’m used to it spirits are nicer anyways and i’ve always been alone so—”

“that’s not true.” he mumbled.

your brows furrowed. “what do you mean?”

he funnily froze up again. “what do i mean what?”

“what’s not true?”

“oh! that— that spirits are nicer!” he quickly sputtered. “they’re assholes. all of them. every single one. including me!”

you giggled at his franticness and a smile spread across his face at that, endearing as he watched you slowly cheer up.

“people’s ignorance doesn’t define who you are sweets.” he spoke gently. “so don’t give them that right. you look perfectly fine to me!”

your eyes softened, wondering what the hell this man did that made the caseworkers down in the netherworld ritual him into a contract, as you were convinced it wasn’t even that bad at all and just straight up unfair, him being one of the kindest and silliest souls you’ve probably ever had the privilege to come across.

“i’ll help you.”

his eyes snapped to yours. “huh?”

“i’ll help you!” you spoke sweetly. “i’ll say your name three times so you can leave the attic.”

“wha— really?!” he exclaimed excitedly, hands animatedly flying everywhere as they went from digging into his white locks to all over his suit and then thrown out to grip over your shoulders, shaking you as you giggled again. “holy shit will you actually?!”

“yeah! why not?” you grinned. “i don’t think it’s right that you’re stuck up here all alone.”

“angel! angel! you’re an angel!” he wrapped his arms around your shoulders and stuffed your face into his chest, squishing you so fucking tight and honestly holding you way longer than he should’ve, but you not minding one tiny bit as you hugged him back and smoothed a comforting friendly hand over his broad shoulders.

“what’s your name then?” you muffled against his suit. “so i can—”

“ahhh fuck.” he muttered. “i forgot about one thing.”

you pulled back a little. “hm?”

“i can’t tell you my name.”

“what?” you looked at him confusedly. “what do you mean? why not?”

“it’s part of the stupid contract sweets...” he sighed heavily. “but i can give you clues! ooo!— like charades! ready?”

“oh! o—okay!” you nodded, him finally letting you go and stepping back.

“don’t freak out.” he grinned in a silly way. “i’m about to make things show up.”

your eyebrows furrowed. “make things show up?”

he waved his hand and a life sized fucking black bug appeared out of nowhere, landing on one of the old wooden rocking chairs in the corner of the room as it wiggled its little legs and peered around, you screaming and flying behind the strange blue eyed man while he laughed loudly and looked over his shoulders for you.

“it’s okay! just a figment of your imagination is all.” he cheesed. “but guess now!”

“guess what?!” you shrieked.

“what that is!” he pointed to the bug.

you peeked an eye out from his side, the bug still gross and horrifying as it wiggled it’s antennas.

“a bug!”

“what kind?”

“a beetle!”

“yes!” he nodded vigorously. “okay that’s the first part!”

“your name starts with beetle?!—”

he waved his hand again and the bug disappeared, a carton of orange juice replacing it instead and floating in mid air, a shiny glass cup next to it as you amazedly watched it pour its bright orange contents into the cup without spilling a single drop.

“…orange juice?” you spoke softly, timidly coming around from behind him. “your names beetle orange juice?”

“not quite!” he made a drinking motion with his hand.

“beetle drinking orange juice?”

he laughed. “no! you’re adding too many words pretty take some out.”

“beetle drinking juice?”

“nope.”

“beetle drinking orange?”

“colder.”

“beetlejuice?—”

“yes!” he threw his hands out, eyes wild and excited. “yes that! and you’ve already said it once now just two more times—”

“beetlejuice.”

“uh huh uh huh—”

“beetle— mmph!”

a pair of hands clasped over your mouth from behind you and pulled you back, you letting out a muffled scream as you thrashed and quickly pried their fingers away, you spinning around and fully expecting to see rin behind you with a shit eating grin and laughing in your face for scaring you.

except it wasn’t rin.

it was the maitlands.

“don’t say his name honey.” barbara spoke first. “trust me… don’t.”

“i mean— are we sure about this sweetheart?” adam looked at his wife. “maybe he isn’t all that bad… hell we don’t even know for sure—”

barbara shook her head. “adam, did you not hear a word juno said? he was about to take advantage of that poor girl!”

take advantage?

you heard a scoff behind you and you turned around, a disgruntled and pissed off look on beetlejuice’s face as he crossed his arms.

“jeez i know you don’t like me but that’s low.” he mumbled. “i wouldn’t do something like that.”

your head turned back to barbara. “you know who juno is?”

she nodded. “juno’s our caseworker… we got assigned to her in the netherworld after we died.”

“took us three months waiting in the waiting room until she finally got to us.” adam added, chuckling in humorous disbelief. “but all she really did was nag at us and warn us about him.”

adam pointed behind you and you turned around again, beetlejuice bitterly looking to the side with his lips pursed.

oh god.

had he been feeding you nonsense this entire time?

“warn about what.” you mumbled, and beetlejuice snapped his head in your direction with anxious eyes.

“juno calls him a bio-exorcist.” barbara informed you. “he tried to illegally cross over to the land of the living and bring himself back to life.”

your eyes bulged open. “back to life? how?”

“you switch souls with someone else through a ritual.” adam piped in. “juno says he attempted to trick and switch souls with somebody that was alive so he could terminate all who were living… and they didn’t even know about it.”

“that’s not true!” beetlejuice countered, utterly exasperated. “the old hag made that up!”

he quickly walked towards you, taking your hands in his and looking at you pleadingly.

“please sweets you’ve gotta believe me i never wanted to kill anybody—”

you ripped your hands away and glared. “so this entire time you’ve been lying, playing some hopeless victim so you can poke into my head and find out shit about me to use to your advantage?—”

“no! no i— i haven’t been lying about anything it’s juno!”

“juno.” you repeated coldly. “and what’s she lying about exactly.”

“about killing the living!” he threw his hands out in emphasis. “she literally pulled that out of her ass when her and her minions banned me—”

“and what about tricking that person to switch souls with you so you can come back?”

he faltered, words completely failing him and guilty eyes looking into yours so deeply that it nearly made you feel bad for yelling at him.

“that’s… that’s true.”

you let out a breath of disbelief and barbara put a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it gently and comfortingly as she looked at you with caring eyes.

“we don’t know what to believe either honey.” she began. “it’s a lot of he said she said… but it’s better to be safe. he tried to get us to say his name three times too in exchange for his help.”

you quirked a brow. “help? what do you guys need help with?”

“your buddies downstairs.” adam sighed. “they’re stealing our things and just messing up the house… but we’ve been watching you and we know you’ve been trying to get them out and so have we… horrendously though.”

“oh my god—” you slapped a hand over your gaping mouth. “i totally forgot about them! i’m so so sorry oh my god i can’t even begin to explain to you how embarrassing this is i’ve been telling them to stop—”

barbara laughed and waved you off. “it’s alright! we know sweetheart. but we’re not frightening enough to scare them off whatsoever… so that’s what we were trying to get his help for.”

“and i still can y’know…” he muttered. “even though you hate me.”

“i don’t hate you juno does.” she crossed her arms and leaned her weight on one side of her hip. “adam and i are lost we don’t know what’s going on and we can’t even read that thing for the recently deceased.”

“we’re just trying to get them out of the house son…” adam finished off.

and in that moment you felt like you were the one responsible for this. that if you had bitched about it harder, even screamed at rin to get him to stop or damn near called the fucking cops on them so that this wouldn’t be happening right now… the maitlands wouldn’t have to suffer and struggle like this every waking day to protect their home and what rightfully still belonged to them even after death.

because the maitland’s roaming around and producing shadows and figures and scaring the realtors and prospected buyers off wasn’t just for shits and giggles… but to try and keep what was once theirs and feel a sense of normalcy for the life they once had.

that was their great beyond. their home.

“i’ll get them to leave.” you smiled at barbara and adam. “i don’t care if i literally have to start fist fighting with his friends this is so unfair—”

“wait! are— are you sure sweets?” beetlejuice interjected worriedly. “your boyfriend’s kind of nuts and i can’t help you once you leave the attic—”

“i’m sure.” you mumbled, still bitter and annoyed at him. “can’t be anymore nuts than you basically trying to kill someone so you can prance around alive again—”

“i already apologized to the entire netherworld nation for that!” he argued. “but if you ask me, if it’s so bad then they shouldn’t have put the fucking instructions in the guidebook.”

“juno says guidebook reveals to you what you want most.” adam spoke. “because barb and i didn’t see a single page that had to do with that… mostly just tips on how to scare the living.”

beetlejuice closed his eyes exhaustedly and shook his head. “doesn’t matter. i’m not trying to trick anyone right now i just want to get out of this damn attic—”

he looked to you again. “—please say my name three times pretty i’ve poked in your boyfriends head and he’s looney i don’t want you to—”

“i’ll see you guys in a sec!” you walked over to the door and left a sputtering frustrated beetlejuice behind. “if nothing works i’ll literally just take my boyfriends keys and drive the car down the hill, he freaks over that thing—”

your voice trailed off as you walked down the creaky stairs of the attic and down the hall of the second floor, the maitlands main bedroom coming into view as you tried to get a script together in your head as to what exactly you were gonna tell rin… but your footsteps quickening at the sound of loud yelling and laughing coming from inside the bedroom, sounds of glass shattering and moving furniture making you panic as you practically stumbled in from the doorway.

and your heart stopped, rin standing there with a crow bar in his hands that he got from who the fuck knows where, smashing multiple vases and porcelain jewelry cases and stuffing his pockets full of anything that looked shiny and valuable in his eyes, the mattress and blankets thrown over to the side and the mainland’s things just completely ransacked as you took it all in.

“rin!”

he jumped and spun around, brows pinching upon seeing you standing there.

“what are you doing here? i thought you left?”

“what the fuck?!” you gestured to the broken shards on the floor and strewn about articles of clothing. “what the hell is wrong with you?!”

“calm down babe it’s fine.” he turned and smashed another small jewelry case, you scoffing in response. “it’s all useless shit that’s gonna dust over—”

“get out.”

he snorted. “uh huh—”

“i’m serious rin get out.” you spat. “all of you.”

“yeah like i’d listen to you.” he spoke harshly, eyes narrowed and sharp as he turned again. “go wait in the fucking car or go home—”

“i’m calling the cops.”

“what?!”

a series of protests and worrisome comments erupted in the air from the group, all thrown directly at a fuming rin as he chucked his crow bar to the side— it clattering on the wooden floor as he hastily trudged over to you and gripped your upper arm, yanking you with him and out of the room into the hallway by the stairs.

“what the fuck do you think you’re doing huh?” he spoke lowly and in your face. “embarrassing me in front of my friends like that?”

you shoved him off. “get out and find another building or i’m calling the cops rin.”

“yeah and if you do that i’m telling them you’re a shitty psychic medium so they can throw you in the shrink.”

your jaw dropped.

rin was being meaner than usual.

“why are you like this.” you mumbled. “i don’t even know why i’m still with you you’re an asshole and you’re pathetic—”

he got in your face again and grabbed your jaw, pressing you up against the railing of the staircase and damn near throwing you over as the edge of it dug into your lower back, your fingers gripping his arm and struggling to pull him away from you while his friends quietly gasped and silently watched in shock.

“pathetic? me?” he laughed humorously. “you’re the one who doesn’t have anything or anyone besides me and yet you still treat me like this you ungrateful bitch—”

“rin okay that’s enough dude let her go—”

“you wanna shut up? or do you wanna trade spots with her?” his fiery crazed eyes switched over to his friend, him only cowering under rin’s intense stare and shaking his head no, diverting his gaze and you still squirming and tugging for your freedom.

“get— off me—”

“or what?” he pushed you further back and your breath hitched, your feet off the ground now at this point as one of your hands shot out to grip the railing for support. “you gonna call your ghost friends for help? go ahead i wanna see you do it you lying—”

“beetlejuice beetlejuice beetlejuice!”

a thunderous roar broke out into the air, actual lightning and black smokey fog spreading over the ceiling and around you as rin instantly let you go and looked around, all of his friends in a pure state of fear and alarm as they lost sight of each other amongst the suffocating mist— including you as you frantically tried to look for a clear path out, unable to decide if you regretted what you had just done.

“never seen a man with such a power trip!” a booming voice echoed through the house that you quickly recognized to be beetlejuice’s, the walls vibrating with each word. “seems to me like it’s all bark and no bite!”

“what did you do y/n?!” you heard rin’s distant yelling from somewhere you couldn’t pinpoint, the air cold and prickling at your skin. “who did you call?!”

“a god!” beetlejuice excitedly answered. “achilles preferably! wait actually he’s a demigod not a—”

“who the fuck is achilles?!”

the air cleared in the center suddenly and revealed a petrified rin, wide eyed and angry as he whipped his head around to try and figure out what was going on.

“you don’t know who achilles is?” half of beetlejuice popped out of nowhere from above the fog and his friends screamed at the mere size of him, for he wasn’t the normal looking man you saw before but a borderline monster— huge and crazed as he looked down at rin in particular with a scary grin.

but his eyes were still a fascinating sparkling blue, oddly familiar in a way as you watched the scene before you through the black air, beetlejuice continuing.

“read a book your stupid is showing.”

he lunged while simultaneously popping his eyeballs out of their sockets with his tongue out, cartoonish and terrifying as his friends yelled for help and scrambled to try and leave, struggling though the smothering mist as you placed a hand over your mouth in shock.

beetlejuice sucked his eyeballs back in and blinked to adjust. “what? you guys scared too? shouldn’t have been so mean to my little sweets over there then!”

they all looked to you and you froze, rin’s gaze narrowing.

“his little sweets?” he clenched his jaw. “the hells he talking about?”

beetlejuice didn’t know why rin was so dumb for even attempting at getting near you again after everything he did and said— his footsteps quick and stompy towards you until he straight up smacked into an invisible wall and doubled back with a hand over his nose, your brows pinching in confusion.

you timidly reached a hand out, expecting your fingers to touch an invisible barrier except there wasn’t one at all as they fell through completely over nothing, your arm slowly retracting back to your chest.

you looked up at beetlejuice’s huge figure, and he gave you a bright cute smile that made your cheeks heat up.

“this is bullshit!” rin roared, wiping his bloody nose with the back of his hand and pointing at you after. “you’re a goddamn nutcase y/n! what kind of show are you putting on huh?!”

“me?!” you shot back. “maybe you should stop being a dick for once in your life and listen when i tell you things you idiot.”

“yup!�� beetlejuice quipped. “doll if you’re still with him after all of this i’m gonna have to start haunting you in your dreams.”

your gaze switched to beetlejuice and you laughed, a little glint to his eye as he watched you shake your pretty head.

“i was gonna dump him the minute i got him out of the house—”

“what?!” rin barked. “dump me? for what?!”

you scoffed. “are you serious? what do you mean for what?”

“fuck— babe okay i’m sorry alright? i’m sorry i’m just a little overwhelmed right now—”

“you’re a sack of shit.” beetlejuice spat. “and call her babe again and i’ll start the engine of your car and ram it through a tree.”

you snickered and rin swiveled around to face him.

“why don’t you stay out of this freak and leave my girlfriend alone—”

“sweets i’ll make him go away if you marry me.”

you choked, flustered and stiff as you looked at him, bewildered out of your mind.

“huh?!”

“pretty pleeaaseee.” he dragged. “you saying my name got me out of the attic but not the house itself… but if you marry me i’m a free man!”

“how does that—” you let out a shocked breath. “how does that even make sense—”

“marry me.”

“but i!—”

“marry me that’s my condition.”

“hold on!—”

rin dove at you with the full intention to grab you and pull you away, but eyes widening in terror as an invisible force practically grabbed his ankle and sweeped him back and away from you, dragging his body across the wooden floor and over to beetlejuice, his friends having enough of all of this and making a run for it down the stairs.

“oh! i almost forgot about you guys!”

beetlejuice nudged his head and they were sent flying back just like rin, all of them screaming and pleading for mercy as their bodies dragged across the floor and returned to him.

“which of you should i gobble up right now… i’m feeling the one on the far right! he’s trembling like a little leaf—”

“please no!” he cried. “i’ll— i’ll do anything! i’ll leave i’ll never—”

“—and i’ll save rin for the very end… best for last right?!”

they all wailed and clawed at the foggy air, your body unmoving as you tried to figure out if beetlejuice was actually being serious.

“please man!—”

“i’m sorry i’m so sorry!—”

“don’t apologize to me you doofuses.” another invisible force grabbed them all by the ankles and pulled them up, dangling them upside down. “apologize to her. then maybe i’ll spare you… how’s that sound?!”

“y/n! please! i’m sorry—”

“we’re sorry dear god!—”

“y/n!—”

“put— put them down!” you wavered. “that’s enough it’s okay! jesus..”

“awww already?!” beetlejuice pouted. “but i haven’t even started swinging them around yet… like a little ferris wheel! heh.”

you slapped a hand over your mouth to suppress a laugh once rin and his friends started wailing in fear again, you shaking your head and smiling at him.

“it’s okay! next time! just let them go i’m sure they’ll run—”

“y/n, it seems like you understand me… you’re the only one that hasn’t bitten my head off in the entire three years that i’ve been dead!”

you laughed again. “i’m glad! now put them down please—“

“so be my wife then.”

“beetlejuice!”

“what?!” he whined. “you don’t wanna be my lawful wedded wife?”

“no!— well— just—”

“is it because i’m dead?”

“put them down and i’ll consider it!”

“yes ma’am!”

the invisible force dropped them and they slammed against the hardwood floors, each and every single one of them fumbling to get their things that flew out of their pockets while upside down and scurrying away, hurried footsteps stomping down the staircase as they tripped over their feet to get to and out the front door, you observing in amusement and slight guilt, leaning over the edge of the staircase to watch them go.

and the second that they did, the stuffy black fog lifted and felt immensely lighter, it dispersing into the air above you as it thinned out to a mere silly mist, cold and wet to the touch and similar to the air you’d feel after a long days worth of rainfall and cloudy weather, slow strides coming up from behind you as you saw beetlejuice’s shiny raven leather dress shoes out of the corner of your eye, you standing upright and turning to him.

he smiled warmly at you.

“thank you.” you grinned, bashful as he reached and fixed up your hair— hands smoothing over your head and down before his fingers lightly grazed and played with the ends of your strands.

“you’re welcome.” he murmured. “thank you for getting me out of the attic sweets!”

you kindly nodded.

“sweetheart, are you alright?”

you looked back and saw the maitlands, barbara walking up with outstretched arms and pulling you in for a hug.

“that boy was insane!” she pulled back and held you out at an arms length by the shoulders. “we tried so hard to intervene while he was yelling at you but we’re useless… they couldn’t see us.”

you giggled. “no it’s okay! really you didn’t need to i wouldn’t ever wanna put you guys in that position.”

“honey— he almost pushed you off the railing…” adam spoke softly. “if you hadn’t called for beetlejuice lord knows what he would’ve done… he was so aggressive and we were worried…”

your heart warmed, never in your life having been so cared for and looked after— funnily enough that you were receiving that sacred feeling from beings that were dead rather than living and it reminding you a little bit of the way your parents were with you when you were young, when they were still alive.

“we’re sorry for being so hard on you kid…” barbara sighed, gaze shifting to beetlejuice. “mistakes happen. i’m sure your passing was something you weren’t expecting like us.”

“oh! no it’s okay don’t.” he smiled brightly. “i almost killed a man i understand.”

“but we understand too.” adam added, and you felt like he was also referring to something you had no clue about as he had a particular look in his eyes, something that was only amongst them three. “i would’ve considered the same.”

beetlejuice swung an arm around your shoulders and looked down at you.

“so are you my little wife?”

“okay—” barbara laughed. “not that you know this—”

“adam! barbara!”

a sudden shriek boomed through the house and beetlejuice instantly pulled you behind him, waving his hand and an invisible force sending you further away until your back gently bumped against the wall, panic rising in your chest as the same black fog from earlier returned and swirled around you, blocking your vision.

was he… was he hiding you? what for?

“juno!” beetlejuice greeted, laughing awkwardly. “heyy long time no see!”

oh.

“zip it bozo.”

from the cracks and openings that you could see through the whirling wind, a proper old lady in professional office attire stood there with her arms crossed, a pissed off look on her face as she tapped her heel against the floor and played with the pearls around her neck.

“what did i tell you two about letting him free?” she scolded. “he’s a loose cannon! he’s not to be trusted!”

“i know i know we’re sorry… we just really needed to get those kids out! and they’re gone! and beetlejuice seems alright!” barbara looked to her husband, a desperate flicker in her gaze. “right adam?”

“yes! uh uh!” adam stepped forward and sighed softly. “please juno… he’s just a kid. he’s learned and what he did was three years ago—”

“what he did could’ve cost me my job and set my entire office up in flames.” juno lectured, pointing her wrinkly finger at beetlejuice next. “you broke a million undead laws and have hundreds of violation codes on your record. your punishment was to stay in the attic for eternity.”

eternity?

oh god no.

“but now i’m gonna have to send you to live inside mr. maitland’s winter river model and you better stay there!”

“what?!” beetlejuice scoffed. “juno please there’s gotta be a way i can lift those violations?”

“i’m afraid there isn’t.” she seethed.

“pretty please?”

“no.”

“with a cherry on top?”

“absolutely not.”

“not even probation?—”

“not even probation! you’re gone!”

your eyes blew open as you watched juno extend an arm out and move it to the side, a bright white blinding light encasing her entire figure and you quickly pushed a hand through the black fog and grabbed the back of beetlejuice’s suit, everything around you scarily blurring out and disappearing and you squeezed your eyes shut, arms reaching out to wrap around his upper torso as you buried your face in his back.

you didn’t want him to go… not at all. and the thought of him stuck inside a model forever like that all alone terrified you.

you understood why he was punished in the first place, but why couldn’t juno just see that he was good? that all he was trying to do was come back to life and live? something many other souls would also kill for?

hadn’t he been punished enough already? he stood stuck in that attic for three god damn years straight with no means of escape whatsoever, and now he was shamefully being sent to live inside a styrofoam cardboard model that was far worse than that stupid attic, for now he couldn’t be seen by anyone even if he truly wanted to be.

had that not been enough? enough of a sign to reconsider his contract?

why couldn’t he just be given a second fucking chance—

“pretty?”

you opened your eyes, forehead quickly detaching from his back and looking up, his piercing blue eyes staring down at you worriedly from behind as he shifted his body a little in your hold to face you.

“what are you doing here i thought—” his surprised gaze shifted over to the way you were clutching onto him, and he relaxed, smiling a little.

“you grabbed me baby?”

“i—” you let him go and stepped back, your cheeks a vibrant pinky shade. “y—yeah…”

he turned around fully.

“why?”

“because—” you bit your bottom lip, peering cutely up at him.

“because i thought we were getting married…”

beetlejuice’s expression dropped and he stared at you wide eyed, his face reddening at your words.

“i don’t— i don’t understand—”

“what?” you giggled. “i thought you proposed to me earlier?”

“i did! yes i did!” he rapidly nodded. “but— but are you actually serious?”

you nodded. “mhm! i am!”

“you can say no sweets honestly it’s okay…”beetlejuice spoke softly with pinched brows. “i’ll cry myself to sleep and shrivel up but i can handle it don’t worry about me—”

you laughed and nudged his shoulder with yours. “i wanna marry you… i wanna set you free.”

you walked over to a little bench, the feeling of you stepping on rubber and glue a little weird under your feet as you sat down and smiled, gently patting the spot next to you.

“i’m not letting you stay here forever by yourself, not when you’ve been doing that already for years.” you murmured, him taking a seat next to you with a yearn-full but apprehensive face.

“you deserve to do the things you want to do and see the things you want to see…” you looked at him so sincerely and loving that he felt his undead heart throb. “… and if i can help you in anyway to get you there i don’t care what it is. i can’t think of anyone more deserving of freedom than you.”

“you’re so pure…” he softly took your hand, yours warm and pumping in comparison to his cold and stiff one. “you always have been.”

he stared at your hand still, his index finger delicately tracing over the faint markings of your working veins underneath your skin, trying to remember what they looked like on him when he was alive, and if they ever looked as precious as yours did.

beetlejuice raised your hand and kissed it, eliciting a fuzzy blush to your cheeks.

“i think we’re meant to be.”

you faltered slightly, for you felt a rush of deja vu hit you like a stifling wave.

“have we met?” you teasingly asked. “before you died?”

he laughed and shook his head.

you sat in comfortable silence for a moment, beetlejuice still tracing the lines and indentations of your hand before you spoke up again.

“i have a question.”

his content eyes switched to yours before they looked back down. “yes sweets?”

“is your name really beetlejuice?”

he weirdly stopped, and you quirked a brow.

“it’s…” he swallowed. “it’s not.”

“oh what the?” you paused, a little puzzled. “where did it come from?”

“juno.” he snickered. “the old hag said it fit how bizarre and stupid i was, so she put it in my contract.”

“oh my fucking god.” you mumbled. “why the hell would she do that? that’s cruel… you’ve already paid the price for what you did the least she could do is address you by your given name.”

beetlejuice laughed cutely, his eyes twinkling as he looked at you.

“that woman doesn’t care baby… so don’t sweat it.” he lifted a hand and ruffled your hair. “and if you ask me, she needs to retire immediately. like— yesterday. all she does is fucking nag at me and the rest of her damn clients.”

you giggled.

“so what’s your name then?”

“not important! now i say we figure out a way to get out of this rinky dink model—”

your eyes narrowed.

“why won’t you tell me your name?”

“—or maybe we should just stay and make ourselves at home!—”

“you won’t tell your soon to be wife your name?—”

“—oh! oh! i can manifest a little jacuzzi in the middle of the cemetery that’s neat—”

you slapped a hand over his mouth and he stopped, your pleading little eyes making him guiltily melt against your hold.

“your name.” you urged softly, lowering your hand and revealing a little frown that he had on his lips. “please.”

“i—” he blinked, utterly remorseful. “i can’t… i can’t tell you my name.”

your brows pinched. “why not? is part of your contract?”

“no— well yes.” he sighed deeply through his nose, and you wondered why he looked so… strained.

“it’s not their contract, but my contract… with you.”

you froze.

“with—” you struggled. “i don’t—”

he rubbed his tired sunken eyes.

“it’s okay sweets but that’s all you need to know—”

“no.” you replied firmly. “what i need to know is your name.”

he dropped his arms and shook his head desperately. “y/n please i put that contract on you to protect you if— if i tell you my name you’ll be hurt and i don’t want that—”

“what do you mean?” you bitterly scooched away from him on the bench and he stubbornly moved closer, eliminating the distance you had created.

“i lied when you asked me if we had met.”

your heart dropped.

“because we have… and i— i wanted you to forget me so i took away your memories and if i tell you my name—”

he swallowed hard.

“… it’ll break the contract. and you’ll remember me again.”

you stared at him, his regretful tortured gaze so anguishing that it was almost unbearable to watch him endure it, wanting to mend it instead, something that already felt so right and easy to you and in no way shape or form unfamiliar.

slowly, you reached up and cupped his cold cheeks in your hands, bringing his forehead to rest against yours.

“but i want to remember you…” you murmured. “…please let me.”

his pupils worriedly shook as they darted all around your striking features, his name practically hanging off the edge of his tongue but his throat physically unable to get the words out, for his dead heart was pulling and fighting with his vocal chords to prevent him from doing so, everything within him wanting to save you from memories he had to live with even after death.

but the other part of him was filled with such intense longing for you that it effortlessly slipped between the cracks of his defensive wall of not telling you his name…the relentless feeling going straight to his heart and mind and strangling the fuck out of it to get a formidable yes instead.

he wanted the life he once had. more than anything.

“satoru.”

something snapped in your brain and you flinched back, memories flooding through your mind faster than the speed of light as you recollected each and every moment in your existence, for the sentiment of vacancy and like a specific thing was just missing in your life was finally put back in its rightful place— for the thing that was missing in particular was him.

satoru gojo.

there were images of meeting him when you were both itty bitty in middle school under a magnolia tree, him sporadic and silly and making you laugh so hard on the third day of school that strawberry milk blew out of your nose and all over his clothes, satoru not having a care in the world as he cackled along with you and thought the way you made liquid come out of your nose was cool.

and there were images of the both of you becoming the best of friends— never one without the other as you pulled pranks on your teachers and ended up in detention together almost everyday, your parents utterly done with you as you never seemed to get it through your head how to behave, the both of you brushing off your scoldings and lectures because you had each other to endure all of it with.

and you saw how much he cared about you.

how he would physically fight and yell and reprimand anyone who called you a freak, anyone who spread rumors about you and your psychic medium abilities as he constantly reminded you everyday that your gift was sacred… a treasure while he wiped your tear stained cheeks and cheered you up after another day of your classmates poking fun at you, him saying that your skills were the coolest and how much he wished he was just like you, how much you both were meant to be as he loved ghost stories and scary stuff.

you saw how you fell in love too.

and it didn’t take long either, as your stolen glances and teasing turned into much more as soon as you grew and went to high school together, the both of you making it official literally your freshman year despite the apprehensions from your parents on both sides because of how young you were.

but it never proved to be an issue, you and satoru not once stumbling over a hiccup since the two of you had built such a strong foundation of genuine friendship and care before you blessedly fell in love, satoru throughout your years together absolutely smitten over you as he always passed you silly notes during class that had a gazillion hearts scribbled all across with your name in the middle, telling you all of the time just how much he loved and cherished you to the point where you had to funnily push him away from you to get him to stop smothering you, you always giving in anyways due to the fact that you were just as smitten, physically unable to go a day without him, and him still physically unable to not iterate how you were meant to be.

satoru understood you, satoru listened to you, and satoru believed you whenever you would speak on your psychic gift and how you had spoken casually to a spirit just the other day, him always interested and unbelievably amazed at everything you had to say as he bombarded you with fifty questions and begged you to teach him how to see spirits too.

he was respectful and supportive of you through it all.

especially when your parents died.

satoru wouldn’t leave your side. he refused to as you tried to piece together what the fuck had just happened, their accident so sudden and weird that it never made sense to you and still didn’t to this day.

and you grieved of course, cried and weeped and clung to satoru like a moth to a flame, feeling alone and without your biggest support system— without your loving peculiar parents that gave you your priceless gift in the first place, him accepting your tears with open arms as he encouraged you to let it all out and was worried for you when it seemed like you had moved on rather quickly from it.

but it was simply because your parents weren’t afraid of the afterlife. it was because your parents had talked so much about it and taught you everything that they knew, that you were convinced their souls peacefully made it through to the great beyond straight away and together, for you never saw their spirits roaming around aimlessly after and feeling eternally grateful for that, your whole life being about acknowledging and embracing the mysteries of life after death.

the knowledge of knowing they were at peace was enough to get you by for a little while.

satoru continued to check in on you about it though... even when it was the end of your junior year and nearing a year since their passing, his parents kindly taking you in after the ordeal and making satoru sleep on the floor and you taking over his bed since they didn’t have an extra room, satoru doing it without even needing to be told and you thanking all of them any chance you got for their amicable kindness and tried to pay them back, satoru checking in on you every night with a series of timid ‘are you okay’s’ and ‘are you happy’s’ before going to bed, your arm dangling off the edge so you could intertwine your fingers while you slept.

you were never alone like you thought you were. ever.

because of satoru.

and he made it obvious that he wanted to marry you too, that he wanted to have you for the rest of his life and didn’t give a single shit if you were both only 18 and barely starting college, him deeming it pointless for the both of you to pretend like the hope of marriage wasn’t there just for the sake of shutting up his parents, as every time he brought it up you stammered and blushed and fidgeted and he only giggled at you, telling you it would happen soon, to be ready, and to sit pretty and patient until the right time came.

except it never did.

because satoru gojo died a year later following that on halloween, precisely on his way over to your dorm when he was snatched by an unknown man and murdered in the middle of the night, you stuck wondering what had happened to him and why he wasn’t answering the phone when he was hours late to come get you, your chest on fire and aching as the feeling in your gut was weirdly excruciating, a part of you completely torn away and lost and you had no idea why until the very next morning.

and he had to watch you mourn. properly this time and not at all like the way you did for your parents, as this time it was fucking worse, painfully and all alone and for no way for him to get to you and comfort you— to tell you it was okay to cry and that he loved you, to tell you to be happy, to be hopeful for the future and hopeful to the thought of spending the rest of your lives together and being meant to be.

but instead he had to watch you wail and scream in your pillow every night with no saving, clutching his clothes and things and picture frames, you making yourself sick as the grief was too much to bare— everything that your parents had said to you and taught you about the afterlife meaning absolutely jack shit as the workings of supposed fate took away the only thing that ever made you happy.

satoru’s dream was to live with you. and it was taken away from him so brutally that he went absolutely nuts in the netherworld.

because yes he violated every single fucking undead law in the book and jumped over restricted gates and strange passage ways and doors, shoved through emotionless security guards, ignored juno’s warnings, and yes he tricked a living human being so he could exchange souls with him—

all for the sole purpose of getting back to you.

it was always for you.

and now, him sitting next to you with an anxious waiting expression, your body and mind now feeling the effects of not having seen him for three entire years and the way your conscious mind grieved for him and his return, his skin sickishly pale and cold but still so handsome nonetheless… absolutely broke you.

it broke you as you let out a strangled hiccup and covered your mouth tightly with both hands, eyes squeezing painfully shut as you reeled over and wailed with a broken heart, for you were mourning the loss of him all over again.

“baby no please—” he quickly caught you and brought you to his chest, his breathing erratic and with the biggest lump in his throat. “see? i didn’t want you to remember i— i wanted you to forget—

you continued to bawl and borderline scream out in agony, his words meaning absolutely nothing at this moment as your mind wouldn’t quit flashing painful memories through your mind, memories that were once entirely missing as they suffocated you with displays of satoru in his grave over and over and over again.

“i can’t—” he frantically looked around for something, anything that would make you feel better before looking back down. “look at me—”

“why did you leave?!” you wailed, pushing him away as the sight of you drowning in your tears ripped him to shreds. “why did you abandon me toru?! why did you—”

“i’m sor—” his voice gave out and he placed a hand over his heart, tears slipping from his eyes. “i’m sorry i’m so sorry i— i never wanted to leave—”

he reached out and tugged you in again, your body slumping against his as he struggled over his sobs.

“i didn’t want to die i tried so hard not to die—”

his words only made you cry harder as he gripped you tighter and shut his mouth, his frame trembling against yours and his tears trickling down and wetting your hair.

“you left me! you were supposed to come— hic— to come get me! you were supposed to marry me!—”

you were babbling mindlessly at this point, your shattered heart taking over the words that were tumbling out of your mouth as you gripped and clawed at his suit, trying to bury yourself in his skin and stay there where you belonged.

he was too cold. and you couldn’t hear a heart beat.

satoru could only cry and bawl with you as he gently rocked you side to side, knowing that there was nothing he could do to make you feel better, and nothing he could do to come back to life.

no matter how much he wanted it.

no matter how much you wanted it.

this is what fate had decided for the two of you.

“i tried so hard.” he mumbled. “i never stopped trying to get to you that’s why juno hates me so much because i’ve violated fucking everything.”

he pressed his lips to your forehead and laid his cheek on it after.

“i got sent to the attic and i couldn’t look after you anymore and i didn’t even get the chance to let you see me either—”

besides the fact that he took your memories, that explained why you never saw his spirit after he died, and you quickly pulled back again and narrowed your bloodshot eyes at him.

“why did you take my memories i never— hic!— i never asked you to i never wanted—”

“because i didn’t want you to grieve over me pretty…” he gently wiped your cheeks while you cried. “you were hurting so much and it was torture watching you suffer like that.”

you sniffled and wiped your eyes with the base of your palm.

“i wanted to see you happy…” satoru finished off.

“was i?”

he dropped his hands and frowned.

“were you?”

“no!” you muttered. “my entire life i’ve felt like something was missing and i didn’t know why… like this— this block in my brain that i couldn’t figure out and it was always just empty and like something was supposed to be there.”

you tucked your hair behind your ear and solemnly looked down, a pulsing headache racking through you from how much you were crying.

“i had to live with the fact that i was alone and that i never had anyone… and i had accepted that too… only this entire time i did have someone. you.”

and oddly enough, through everything that happened— all of the memories that you now remembered and the devastating death of your late boyfriend, you finally felt a little bit less strange and unusual.

because you always thought that something was wrong with you for feeling the way that you did, for craving something— someone that never existed, for wanting to fill the void that you now know satoru once happily sat in, all of these things now officially clicking into place and bringing you the weirdest sense of peace you had probably ever felt.

“i wish you never made me forget.” you mumbled. “you’re worth remembering toru…. even if it hurts me.”

he guiltily nodded and sniffed. “m’sorry… i thought you were better off forgetting.”

a part of him still does, because the small glimpses he caught of you no longer crying and just simply living after he took your memories away, was enough to bring him a tiny sense of relief just before he got banished to the attic, hopeful that you would live a long and happy life even if it was painfully without him.

but the minute he sensed you coming up to the house earlier that night with him thinking he was going absolutely insane and if it was truly you, was also enough to send all of that out the fucking window and falling back into a pit of despair and longing for you when he finally saw you again— for the first time in three years, looking just as pretty as he remembered and a little more grown up.

you slowly shook your head side to side, lifting your arms to wrap around his neck and him immediately responding, snaking them around your waist and pulling your warm beating body flush against his chest.

“do you still love me?” he murmured. “even though i’m dead?”

you slightly snorted, softly kissing his cheek.

“i’ll always love you toru. wherever you are.”

“i’ll always love you.”

he pulled back and gently smiled, eyes flickering to your soft lips as he juggled in his mind if it was okay to kiss you, every fiber of his undead being begging for it after missing and wishing it for so long, left with only recollections of your kisses to suffice through the years that he spent without you and wondering if he still had the right to— since even though you were once his, and he shamelessly still considered you his, he didn’t know if you were on the same page.

but you were.

it would be stupid not to be.

you leaned your pretty little face closer to his, timid doe eyed gaze looking at him so fondly that it brought back that same familiar feeling he felt with you those years ago, his hands coming up and settling themselves on your warm lively cheeks, holding you like fragile porcelain.

but were his dead lips still worthy of yours? even after everything he’d done?

“toru.”

he hummed.

“do you remember our first kiss?”

“uh huh.” he breathed out softly. “it was in my room.”

“i think—” your nose brushed with his. “i think we should have our second first kiss.”

he bit his bottom lip and smiled.

“you think so?”

“i do.”

he hummed again, his thumb gently grazing over your plushy lips.

“i think it should look a little more like the first time.”

he tilted his head to the side a tiny bit and a delicate gust of wind brushed through your hair, your surroundings now completely and miraculously morphed into his room with the both of you sitting on his bed— just like how you remembered it and basically had grown up in as you slowly took in your surroundings.

“how the fuck—”

he laughed a little, lifting one hand and keeping the other still on your cheek, his index finger lightly tapping the center of your forehead.

“mind manipulation pretty.” he grinned. “cool huh? i poked in your head again.”

“yeah!” you giggled. “very cool.”

“you know what else would be cool?”

“what?”

“if you gave me a little kiss.”

you tilted your head to the side and leaned in again, your breath fanning across his face and your lips so close but not quite that it was fucking excruciating.

“you want a kiss toru?”

“uh huh.”

“how bad— mmph!—”

satoru didn’t even let you finish that sentence as he stuffed his tongue in your mouth greedily, wet and messy kisses smacking through the room as he cradled your jaw, cold lips delving all over yours and him giddy over the sensation of your warm mouth in comparison to his, your hands clutching his blazer and making out so sensually as you made up for the time that was stolen from you.

and the only thing the two of you felt in each others arms then was serenity— one pumping, working heart and the other stiff, unmoving and cold, still equally beating for one another even through the restrictions of death, for satoru’s heart continued to move and love you regardless of how lifeless it may have appeared.

he suddenly pulled away, breathless.

“sweets?”

“yeah?”

“where in the actual fuck did you meet rin?”

you laughed, pulling back a bit to look at him with a regretful look. “knowing what i know now, i’m sick to my stomach toru.”

“did you meet him after i died?”

you nodded. “he was in one of my literature classes… and since back then i only remembered living my life— alone, i guess he was the first person that didn’t make me feel that way. at the start.”

“lame.” he mumbled. “you cheated on me sweets.”

“no!” you laughed again, giving him a little pout. “he was awful. horrendous. and i only stayed because i didn’t wanna be alone again… even though i shouldn’t have.”

you leaned and gave him a soft tiny lingering peck.

“did you love him?” he murmured against your lips, and you shook your head.

“remembering you again made me realize what being in love with someone was supposed to feel like.” you reached and brushed through the front stands of his white hair mindlessly. “and it was no where near what i felt for rin. i didn’t feel anything for him actually.”

he pursed his lips to the side, eyes squinting in thought and distaste.

“hmmm…”

you giggled. “what toru?”

he hated that you got associated with a guy like that, and hated even more that rin was kissing and hugging and touching you whenever the fuck he wanted when you were his first.

“i’m gonna haunt him for the rest of his life.”

you playfully rolled your eyes and nudged him. “honestly? do it. he sucks.”

“and you know what else sweets?”

you quirked a little brow. “what?”

“i’m gonna make you forget!”

“toru!” you giggled. “no more taking memor—“

satoru leaned his face closer to yours and you froze up, wide eyed as a little mischevious glint in his vibrant blue gaze made you fidget.

he slowly grinned and tilted his head, lips coming closer to the side of your ear and tantalizingly hovering, arms snaking around your torso and pulling you up against him.

“did you let him touch you pretty?”

“t—touch?—”

“mhm.” he gripped you a little tighter. “did you?”

“um.” you squirmed a bit, your body turning hot in the matter of seconds. “what— what do you mean—”

“did you let him fuck you.”

your breath hitched and your cheeks went pink, hands timidly resting flat on his chest and feeling a little… guilty.

“maybe—” you paused, shaky breaths blowing through your nose. “maybe once—”

satoru shot up to stand and hauled you with him, a squeal slipping past your lips as he hiked you up and brought your legs around his waist, walking across the room in quick strides and plopping you down roughly on his desk, kicking away his chair and it slamming against the wall as it rolled back.

“toru?—”

“why can’t i make you forget… hm?” he grazed his lips from your jaw and up the side of your cheek, feather like as he squeezed and kneaded at your thighs, your heart fucking hammering against your chest.

“why would you wanna remember being with someone else other than me baby…”

“i— i don’t but you erased my memories—”

he pulled back and tutted, head shaking and fingers drumming against your thighs. “doesn’t matter! should’ve avoided them like the plague silly.”

you giggled and wrapped your arms around his neck, tugging him gently in.

“i would’ve if i remembered.”

“remember this remember that—” he smiled brightly and brought his face close to yours once more.

“y’know what?” he cutely pecked your lips. “i’m gonna help you remember something!”

your brows pinched momentarily in curiosity. “what?”

“that i’m the only man that ever gets to fuck you.”

satoru smashed his lips against yours and pulled you in tight, the bulge in his dress pants abundantly obvious as he grinded and rutted his aching cock on your clothed pussy, you gasping in his mouth at the feeling as you tried to keep up with his feverish fast kisses.

he slipped his icy hands underneath your top and you jumped at the change in temperature, satoru ravishing you up and obsessed with the heat your body produced and radiated, leaving him toasty for once and bringing a faux sense of life to him.

“did you forget that too?” he murmured against your lips, hands ever so slowly creeping up and sliding under your bra to grope your plump tits. “how i feel?”

“nuh uh.” you breathed out. “i didn’t—”

“tell me what you remember then sweets…”

he slid his hands back down and hiked your skirt up, you lifting your hips a little to help him bring it up as high as he possibly could, your pretty little panties tight and suffocating your pussy as his fingers came down to play with your swollen needy clit.

“i remember—” your mouth hung open, words lodging in your throat.

“hm?” he shoved his hand in your panties and your eyes fluttered closed, him placing open wet mouthed kisses all over your neck and chest, your mind unable to grasp the amount of pleasure he was getting out with simply just his fingers, pleasure you missed so fucking badly as he slipped his digits up and down your folds.

“your dick—” satoru pushed two fingers inside of you and you whined. “i remember the way you felt.”

“yeah?” he pulled back from your chest and grinned, fingers squelching as they pumped in and out. “and how did i feel?”

“big.” you choked out, legs spreading wider as you gripped the edge of his desk, his frenzied lust filled eyes drinking in the way you unraveled and crumbled before him.

something he was positive rin didn’t even come fucking close to.

“aww.” he cooed, digits speeding up as you squealed and tried to close your legs, him prying them open again. “bet you missed the way i filled you full huh? stretched you out so good?”

you rapidly nodded, eyebrows contorted in ecstasy as your thighs shook.

“anything else you missed baby?”

arousal trickled down your folds at this point, making an absolute mess out of his fingers.

“your hands— heave— on my neck when you’d fuck me—”

a shiver ran down his spine at your words, his cock so fucking hard and aching as it begged him to let it spring free and bury itself in your hole.

“my god…” he whispered. “i bet your slutty little self wants me to fuck you right now right? stuff you up and make you cum on my dick like i used to?”

with each word your hole was clenching and screaming for his cock, your hands quickly shooting out to pull and unbuckle at his belt, him laughing as he continued to finger your pussy while loosening up the collar of his tie.

“you’re so needy.”

you pouted, embarrassed as you pulled your hands away and brattily tugged at his wrist to take his fingers out.

“i take it back—”

“no!” he quickly yanked his belt off and flung it, his fingers unzipping his pants and taking out his solid dick. “hell no please i need to be inside you—“

he lined his cock up and without warning pushed, your hands flying to grip his shoulders for support and crying out at the mere size of him, his dick icy in between your gummy walls that somehow added a whole new wave of pleasure for you.

“hard toru.” you whined. “please i can’t— i—”

“i know baby i know.” he gripped your hips and snapped his hips up, your moans fueling him as he plunged in your hole and took no time in fucking you in just the way he knew you liked it, proud of the fact that your pussy still took every single inch of him like he’d trained you— almost like she recognized whose dick was actually for you and not some other fucking morons.

“you’re not screwing anybody else anymore, you hear me sweets?” he tapped your cheek to get you to look at him, you completely dazed and fucked out as you tried to hold eye contact with him amidst his drilling cock. “should’ve only been me… living or dead i don’t care.”

you nodded dumbly, you leaning and kissing him sloppily and desperately that you muffled his next words, refusing to detach from his mouth.

“did you— mmph— let him cum inside?”

you didn’t answer, not because you were afraid to, but because his dick was silencing you as you hiccuped and spasmed with every slam of his hips, satoru a horny goner and pinning everything all on you even when it was literally his fault he erased your memories in the first place, fuming over the thought of you tainted by another man that he wanted to perform a full fucking cleanse.

he rammed inside of you faster against the desk as you separated from his lips and clamped a hand over your mouth, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“don’t tell me you let him cum inside you little slut—”

“i didn’t!” you heaved. “i didn’t i didn’t—”

“good baby!” he cheered, a complete contrast to his menacing tone from seconds before. “so you do love me.”

“i do! i love you i love you i love yo—”

his unbeating heart soared.

“you love me?”

“uh— hic!— uh huh—“

“even when i’m dead?”

you nodded vigorously, feeling your orgasm starting to bubble up in your tummy as you choked and squirmed.

“perfect my sweet little thing…” he cooed once more, him literally lightheaded over the way you clenched around his cock. “make a mess all over me baby i’ve been dreaming of your cute cunt for three fucking years—”

you wrapped your arms around him by the neck again and moaned, burying your face in his neck as he placed two palms on your bent knees and spread your plushy thighs further apart, jack hammering you and so mean about it as you shook violently against him and came, heaves and sobs of pleasure racking through your body as he threw his head back and groaned.

“you want me to cum inside you?” he asked. “fill you up just like i used to?”

“yes! please please—”

“oh fucking well.”

he pulled out of you and your eyes bulged open, his dick shiny and covered in your juices as he grabbed your upper arm and yanked you down on your knees.

“you’re gonna suck me off and swallow what i give you for letting rin’s filthy hands on you.”

satoru tapped his dick against your cheek to get you to open up, you listening and opening your mouth as he shoved his cock inside and placed a hand on the back of your head, fucking your mouth as you choked and gagged on his length and loving every second of it.

“goooddd baby.” he whispered, your slobbering so nasty as he watched drool dribble down your chin. “so good…”

you gulped him down and lathered your tongue around while he used you, his balls swollen and twitching and him needing to dump his cum in your mouth for you to swallow.

“remember when we used to do this every night?” he smiled wickedly. “when i’d make you swallow me up?”

you hummed around him and tried to nod, eager for his release and wanting to show him that you in fact did remember— wanting it just as bad as you hollowed out your cheeks and sucked him harder.

“h— oh my god—” he fisted your hair and shivered, letting you take over and milk him for all his worth. “i’m gonna— jesus baby slow— slow down slow down— hah!”

satoru’s release shot to the back of your throat and you choked, blinking back tears as you gradually slowed your pace and continued to deliciously suck him through his orgasm and gulp down his cum, him with a death grip on the edge of his desk as he heaved and swallowed, hips jittery and twitching away from you— tip now overly sensitive.

you licked up the last of his cum and stood back up, shimming your skirt back down and satoru shakily stuffing his softened dick back in his pants and zipping it, eyes softening once you reached up and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, his over your waist and squeezing you gently.

“so you’re telling me.” you began. “that you haven’t had sex in three years and you fucked me like that?”

he snickered and smoothed a hand over your back. “it’s my instinct sweets! and also because i’m sure rin did a horrendous freaking job—”

you laughed and rolled your eyes, kissing his cheek before looking at him fully.

“i’m serious you know.”

he raised a brow. “about what?”

“about marrying you. even more so now.”

and just when he was about to pick you up and spin you around and jump up and down, he stilled— face sickishly paling more than it already was.

because satoru was keeping something else from you… a condition between the living and the dead and one he overlooked entirely because he was selfishly desperate for you and just wanted you with him again, like the way he had you when he was alive.

“what toru?”

“huh?” his eyes snapped to yours, and he quickly shook his head. “oh nothing nothing!”

his mind was frantically pushing it to the back, ignoring it and wanting to go through with the one thing he’d practically been dreaming of his entire living and dead life— marriage with you.

this was fine. this was okay.

right?

“white or black.”

you tilted your head. “what?”

“you’ll see… but choose!” he grinned. “white or black?”

a slow giddy smile grew on your face.

“black.”

satoru waved his hand and you stilled, the clothes on your skin changing and morphing into something completely anew, your eyes landing on his black and white button up suit now and head quickly dropping down to yourself— gasping once it registered in your flabbergasted brain.

you were wearing a black wedding gown, beautiful and classy as you picked up and felt the soft silk material between your fingertips, your tule sheer veil intricate as you looked behind you then— it long and stretching for what seemed like miles across the floor with gorgeous embroidery at the base of it.

it was heavenly.

your gaze snapped back to his, and he smiled fondly, taking your hand and intertwining your fingers.

“three times.” he murmured, and you picked up on what he was referring to, tightening your grip on his hand and nodding.

“beetlejuice beetlejuice beetlejuice.”

and the room spun around you, so astronomically fast that you almost doubled over in stifling nausea as the wind whipped through your hair and veil, expecting to land in the attic and finally outside that damn model when in reality, you were in a church cathedral as soon as your surroundings had stopped spinning… and one that looked exactly like the one in winter river.

“are we…” you looked around. “are we still in the model?”

he shook his head. “nope! i was focusing my mind here when you were saying my name… we’re in winter river baby.”

you smiled, the atmosphere around you soft and serene as the dimly lit candles around you quietly flickered, a random lilac colored hue across the cathedral and one you assumed was placed by satoru himself as he took your hands in his, almost in a haste too, but choosing to brush the observation aside.

this was wrong… and satoru knew it.

but he pushed it to the back of his head again.

“we are gathered here today—”

“shit!”

you jumped and whipped your head to the side, breathing out and shoulders relaxing once you saw it was just your church’s pastor that you’d known since birth— a strange far off look in his eye that you deemed to be something that satoru did, for there was no way he was up at the crack of fucking dawn right now to do a wedding.

“sorry!” you laughed. “is he… is he okay?”

“oh yeah he’s fine! he’s actually still sleeping.” he let go of one of your hands and patted the pastors head. “i’m manipulating his head for a little bit. just until you’re my wife.”

his wife.

you nodded, cheeks so warm as you tried to refrain from jumping over how excited you were at the thought of finally fulfilling the vows you had placed on each other when you were young— them now nurturing into something real.

“dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness and celebrate the love of satoru gojo and y/n y/m in holy matrimony.”

he shouldn’t do this to you.

“today, they declare their intention to build a life together, sharing their joys and their challenges, and supporting one another in pursuit of their dreams.”

he can’t— he can’t build a life with you… can he?

he pushed his worries back again and gripped your hands tighter.

“do you, satoru gojo, take y/n y/m to be your lawfully wedded wife? do you promise to love, honor, cherish and protect her, through sickness and in health for as long as you both shall live?”

this is wrong.

but he swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded.

“i do.”

“and do you, y/n y/m, take satoru gojo to be your lawfully wedded husband? do you promise to love, honor, cherish and protect him, through sickness and in health for as long as you both shall live?”

for as long as you both shall live.

satoru can’t live.

“i d—”

“stop.”

you froze.

“what?” you asked worriedly. “what’s wrong?”

“i’m no better than the man i was when i first died.”

the look in his eyes was… odd, and it only further confused you.

“i don’t—”

“i can’t let you marry me baby.”

your heart dropped.

“what?”

“i told you that if you married me it would break my contract and i would be a free man and that’s true…” he began. “but there’s something else that i didn’t tell you... i— i kept it from you.”

oh fuck.

“what are you talking about toru.” your voice was low and heedful, almost like a warning to him, and he wanted to slam his head against the wall for being so fucking reckless again.

“if you—” he breathed in and shook his head, letting go of your hands and letting his fall tight at his sides, balling up. “if you marry me, you’re freeing me…”

he gnawed at his lip.

“but i’m killing you.”

your blood ran cold and drained from your face, words entirely at a loss and useless as your brain tried to process what the fuck he just told you.

kill you?

“marrying me is like exchanging your soul with the dead.” satoru slowly shook his head. “you’ll die sweets… i can’t— i can’t do that to you.”

satoru was desperate to for you, so much so that he was willing to hide such a detrimental part of the marriage clause until the time came, choosing to play freaking stupid and tune it out in the hopes that in the end, he would be brave enough to go through with it just to keep you and not ever have to say goodbye again.

but it was wrong. so incredibly immoral and wrong and he felt like a monster for even trying to do it, for letting it go as far as it did and have you standing there in front of him in your pretty gown and veil— just like how he’d imagined it when his blood was pumping and his heart was beating, and just like how he’d imagined it even now, shriveled up dead veins and all.

this is what fate had chosen for the two of you.

and though it took forever for satoru to accept it… you and him were simply not meant to be.

for you were meant to live, and satoru was meant to die.

“you disgraceful bafoon! you insolent crook!”

the big doors of the cathedral kicked open and juno walked through, adam and barbara maitland running behind her and trying to pull her back, the both of them spouting reasonings and explanations.

“this is her choice juno!—”

“she wants to let her do it!—”

“the kid’s just in love!—”

“button it or i’m sending you back to the house!” juno grumbled at them, turning back around and pointing menacingly at satoru once she reached you both, her brittle old lady perfume wafting in your nostrils.

“juno!” satoru greeted with faux cheerfulness, eyes wide and alarmed. “good to see you hah! you look livelier than the last time i saw y—”

“what the hell do you think you’re doing boy?” she spat, eyes switching to you next. “and you! young lady— this man is a spirit!”

“i—i know—”

“juno they know each other.” barbara spoke up gently. “they grew up together when he was alive.”

“yes they were in a relationship this isn’t him trying to trick her into anything—”

“no but it is.” satoru exhaustedly whined, cutting adam off as he ran his hands through his snowy hair. “she didn’t know about the clause… i just told her now.”

silence.

“you didn’t tell her about the clause?!—”

“are you out of your mind you cockroach?!—”

“you’re doing what you did before!—”

“i know!” satoru exclaimed over the yells of scolding and belittlement. “i know i know that’s why i told her just now… i’m not letting her do it i— i couldn’t.”

he turned to you.

“baby i want you. i need you and that’s why i didn’t say anything like a fucking dingbat because i’m tired of living forever without you... it sucks.”

you felt tears prickle at your eyes.

“but this isn’t fair to you at all. you deserve to live man… i can’t— i won’t drag you down with me.”

“toru—”

“the living and the dead were never meant to coexist.” juno interjected, her gaze looking at satoru sincerely for once that it was a strange sight for him.

she placed a hand on her chest. “i’m sorry that your love was separated by death, truly. i sympathize with you. i can’t think of anything more cruel.”

you both solemnly nodded.

“but the living and the dead were never meant to coexist.” she repeated. “so even though you two move on from this and go back to being what you are, satoru will stay like this and you will not. you will grow.”

juno addressed you directly and you listened with a heavy heart— the use of satoru’s actual given name now from her instead of ‘beetlejuice’ adding a layer of somber seriousness.

“and let’s just say this clause didn’t exist and you get to marry her and she stays alive… satoru will still stay and you will grow. do you both understand what i’m trying to say?”

you quickly wiped the corner of your eyes, satoru peeking over at you sadly.

“i won’t tell you what i think the right choice is young lady.” she continued. “the dead aren’t even supposed to associate with the living like this… but weigh the consequences of either path and see which one you want to walk in.”

she stepped a bit closer, holding eye contact with you.

“but let me make one thing clear— the power of the living is greater than the dead. if you choose to marry him, you will break his contract forever and free him of his violations. but if you do, you will die and be one of us.”

either path is difficult.

to sacrifice his freedom, or to sacrifice your life?

but you knew that a life without satoru was nothing and bleak…. you had lived it for three years.

were you willing to return to that? just to keep your heart beating? and say goodbye to satoru for good?

you didn’t want to live in a world that didn’t have him in it. you didn’t want to live in a world where you remembered satoru for longer than you’d known him, and the thought only made you absolutely sick to your stomach as you envisioned the rest of your life without the person who knew you best.

it was almost easy… you didn’t have to weigh the consequences at all.

your path was satoru.

“we’re getting married.”

“what?!” satoru frantically shook his head. “no sweets no we’re not.”

“yes we are.” you pushed. “this isn’t for you to decide it’s my choice and i choose you—”

“and i’m not letting you.” he countered. “you’re choosing wrong so unbelievably wrong—”

“but i’m not though!” you argued. “literally explain to me right now how me stuck in a world that doesn’t have you in it is better than—”

“y/n you need to live.” he cut you off. “i died, not you it’s not supposed to be you alright? i can’t let you do this.”

tears slipped from your eyes and you wiped them right away.

“do you not— sniff— do you not want me do you want me to go away what—”

“no…” he stepped forward and cupped your cheeks. “that’s the last thing i want and you know that…”

“then why won’t you marry me?” you hiccuped. “why won’t you let me stay with you?”

“baby— life is so unbelievably precious.” he moved strands of your hair away from your face. “do you have any idea what i would give to have it again? to feel my body actually working for a change instead of it just being nothing?”

you continued to cry, your hands clutching his wrists.

“i don’t want you to take that away from yourself because of me… i want you breathing. i want your little heart pumping and your cheeks warm, i want you to move on.”

“i— hic!— i don’t want to move on from you—”

“you have to sweets.” he quickly wiped his eyes before cupping your cheeks again. “we’re not meant to be baby and i hate so much that we aren’t… and i’m sorry.”

“toru stop it—”

“please live for me okay? for the both of us. and don’t forget me either please don’t forget me—”

“why are you—” you harshly wiped your eyes. “why are you talking like that what are you doing—”

“i don’t think i should be around you anymore baby.”

“huh?!” your eyes narrowed. “are you serious?”

“satoru—”

juno raised a hand, stopping barbara from interjecting.

“it won’t be good for either of us if i stick around...” he sniffled. “i need to stay away from you because if i don’t, i might try to trick you again into giving up your soul and i can’t have that.”

“my soul?” you spat. “take it i don’t want it without you i told you already—”

“please try to understand.” he placed a soft kiss to your forehead. “please.”

“no—”

“i’ll see you soon okay?” satoru let go of your face. “graduate please. have kids and get married and stuff… travel.”

you were supposed to do all of that with him.

“satoru no listen to me!—”

“i love you.”

“stop!—”

satoru’s grief was monumental, but his love for you was greater, choosing to let you go for the sake of your life.

he looked to juno and she sighed through her nose, somehow knowing exactly what he was silently asking for, stepping forward and lifting a hand.

“satoru please i wanna stay with you!—”

juno sharply moved her hand to the side and you were pulled to a blinding white abyss, dream like and fuzzy as you felt all muscles in your body relax, your mind completely blank and free of the heartbreak and loss and sorrow for a little, floating through a cloud of soft serenity as it brought you in and tried to clear the pain in your heart.

you weren’t aware of where you were or what juno had done, but your thoughts were distant and muffled as you let it engulf you entirely in its welcoming arms, you sleepy and drowsy until the blinding white abyss slowly shrunk down to a pure black, quiet void, the nerves in your body twitching little by little until you were finally consciously aware of your limbs and mind, but you too tired still to open your eyes.

you cruelly dreamed of satoru still. of him alive.

and you weren’t sure how long you had been in this weird pit of tranquility, or how long you were asleep for until you were jerked awake and ripped from it entirely.

“hey— y/n?”

you shot awake, sitting up and whipping your head around.

you were back in your dorm.

“are you okay? why are you sleeping on the floor?”

you looked up, your roommate standing there with a weirded out expression.

“and what are you wearing?”

your gaze shifted downward, and the minute you saw your black wedding dress and veil folded neatly next to you, memories of what had happened hours prior came achingly flooding in as you scrambled to stand up on your feet, scaring your roommate and leaving her to grumble in her head about how she wished the system didn’t put her to room with the campus ghost girl.

“sorry! i have to go thank you though for waking me u—”

your voice trailed off down the hall, you running through and ignoring the weirded out looks from other students as you sprinted out of the building and down the street, engulfing the skirt of your gown up in your arms so you wouldn’t accidentally trip over it and eat shit on the ground, the goal of getting back to the maitland’s house the only thing on your mind as you ran.

your lungs burned by the time you got to the bottom of the hill, and you thanked anyone that was willing to listen for allowing winter river to exist as the smallest town you had ever known, sparing you from running a full fledged marathon just to get to the house as you heaved and tried to catch your breath, a little sweaty and hot as you began the hike up the hill.

you hoped he was there.. in the attic.

you hoped to god that he was.

reaching the top, you continued to trudge across the dirt driveway and up the porch steps, your foot lifting and just about to make contact with the old wooden platform until an invisible force grabbed your ankle and pulled you back, literally dragging you away from the house and down the hill over the grass as you screamed and thrashed for it to let you go.

satoru.

and you tried again, hiking up the hill with your bundled up wedding skirt in your arms, reaching the top faster than last time and choosing to run up the porch steps instead to see if you could outrun his ghostly abilities.

except you couldn’t, because the invisible force caught you by the ankle again just as your fingers grazed the doorknob, yanking you away and down the hill until it left you screaming and huffing in frustration at the bottom.

you continued to do that for the rest of the fucking day, and everyday for that matter, for an entire week straight.

walking up the hill, reaching the top, getting reeled back, running up the hill and getting sent back down again, sprinting for it only to get dragged away once more as the repeated cycle you had set for yourself happened over and over, until by your last attempt you couldn’t even walk up the hill anymore, satoru having put a huge invisible wall around the house that was impossible to get through.

you were angry. angry and bitter that he was doing this.

was it so bad to just want to spend the rest of your undying life with him? is that not what he wanted this entire time? why was he so adamant on damning you to live a life of suffering and— and loneliness? a life without him?

you didn’t know what to do. your psychic abilities were only for sensing the dead and being able to see them— nothing to do with calling forth spirits or summoning them at any given place and time, so there was no way for you to call satoru no matter how much you wanted to or tried.

and you cried. you cried and you sobbed just like how you did when he first died, except somehow worse knowing that there was a chance to be together with him forever and him not wanting it… not wanting you.

but you waited anyways, hoping that he would come around and change his mind, that he would bring down that stupid invisible wall and let you inside the house and back to him, counting down the days and hours and minutes until it became clearer to you that satoru wasn’t going to change his mind.

and by the third week, you had almost entirely given up.

you felt nothing. absolutely nothing as you slugged through your classes or your day to day errands, not giving a shit about anything that you had to do in this world for you had always loved the other world more— the world of spirits and the netherworld and the great beyond, the world that had satoru in it, as you appreciated and admired that one more ever since you were a kid with your parents… more than the one you were currently in— as this one was filled with ignorance and criticism.

you felt helpless… and maybe satoru was right.

if he was willing to give up an opportunity to keep you forever, then maybe that’s just the way it goes… maybe you should just accept it, and you choosing to think of the latter instead of begging and kneeling at nothing for satoru to come back and get you and marry you— was helping the bitterness in your heart grow and get you by, it at least stopping you from crying in the middle of your lectures or the grocery store and weirding people out anyways.

maybe you should accept the fact that you and him were not meant to be.

after an entire month, you had given up.

and satoru’s grave was the closest you knew you’d get to him, permanently divided by dirt and soil and grass… six feet under and totally out of your reach, his tombstone engraved and pretty and one you couldn’t believe you had forgotten about as it sat here alone for years right under your nose— you visiting it now for the millionth time as you placed your book bag down and sat criss crossed on the grass, mindlessly tugging and breaking off pieces of it as you sat there.

you sighed deeply and hugged your knees up to your chest, the day surprisingly a sunny one as chirping birds flittered past you through the wind, tiny little white butterflies occasionally stopping by to sit on your arm or satoru’s tombstone as you sat there in thought… not really sure what to think, but comforted by the fact that the engravings on his stone reminded you that he was once very much alive and real.

there was an odd wavering in your heart, and you had a feeling that this was going to be the last time you were visiting his grave, for you figured it was time to finally do what he wanted you to do— move on and forget him.

“don’t move on.”

you stiffened.

that voice… was your mind hallucinating now? jesus chri—

“don’t move on from me please… and— and don’t forget me. i take it all back.”

you heard footsteps draw nearer across the grass and you turned your head, eyes widening and unbelieving as you saw satoru standing there with a pleading anxious expression, him still dressed in his black and white suit that he had on for the wedding.

was it actually him?

“how are you…” you trailed off, your mind having difficulty processing how he was there. “how are you outside the house? i thought the contract—”

“juno gave me a hall pass…” he explained softly. “it expires at the end of the day.”

you hummed, itching to jump up and wrap your arms around him and cling to him, but stopping yourself from doing so as you still didn’t know why he was here, and you were quite frankly still bitter and hurt from him sending you away.

you slightly turned your body. “why are you here?”

“because i can’t stay away from you.”

your heart skipped a beat as he crouched down to your level, your eyes greedily running across every feature of his face and committing it to memory, as you now had him directly in front of you again instead of having to rely on recollections of him to try and mend your aching heart.

and satoru was doing the same.

“i started to sense you distancing from me and… and i had this feeling that you were starting to listen and move on and forget me and it made me fucking ill. which is crazy because i’m dead… but i was literally ill sweets.”

you let a tiny soft smile play at your lips.

“i can’t take it.” he spoke again, shaking his head. “i can’t take the thought of you forgetting me. not now, not ever, and i don’t know why i was stupid enough to try and convince myself that i could watch you do something like that even if its the right thing.”

“you sent me away.”

“i did baby…” he reached over and gently caressed your cheek. “and i regret that so fucking much. i’m sorry.”

“toru i need you to understand that you can’t make choices like that for me.”

“i know.” he mumbled and dropped his hand, eyes casting down. “i’m stupid.”

“but i also need you to understand, that i have no interest in living in a world that doesn’t have you in it… it’s not worth it now that you’re gone.”

you tilted your head to try and catch his gaze, continuing once his blue eyes flickered back to yours.

“i would die for you, and i would die without you. i look for you in everything that i do and you expecting me to just forget you is cruel.”

“no i don’t want you to forget me anym—”

“what’s life to you?” you asked him suddenly. “what does it feel to you? and mean?”

he stared at you with pinched brows, his face endearing but sad all at the same time.

“warm.” he murmured. “beautiful and… pure. it’s peaceful and it means you.”

your heart fluttered and you smiled, and satoru fell in love with you all over again— something you conquered when he was alive, and something you conquered again in death.

“that’s what life is toru.” you cupped his cheek. “to me it’s not— this.”

you gestured around you. “it’s not my body or my heart, it’s not the sun and it’s not breathing. it’s you. i feel life through you and i always have… because life doesn’t literally mean where i am now and neither does it mean the netherworld baby… it means you and me.”

satoru didn’t even realize he was crying until you wiped his cheeks, your words serving an entirely new perspective to him about the living and the dead and he felt peace.

because yes satoru was dead… but he was still living. living because he had you as the embodiment of it, and living because his soul still permitted him to see you again and be with you, to look at you with his own undead eyes and feel warmth like he did before.

but not literal warmth from your body or pumping blood or a beating heart.

but warmth from your soul. from who you are.

that’s what life was to him… and what life was to you.

satoru wrapped his arms around your shoulders and brought you to his chest, one hand on the back of your head as he cradled you and cried, finally now no longer mourning his past life like he’d been doing for the past three years, and no longer wishing for it back either or thinking that physically living in this world was the better option for you just because it meant you were breathing.

where he was, was just fine. and wherever you chose to go would be fine too.

but you chose to go with him, something that had been set since the moment you met under the magnolia tree back in middle school— living or dead, paris or italy, your choice would always and forever be him.

satoru proposed to you right then and there at his gravesite, flying to one knee as soon as you both stood back up and him manifesting the biggest diamond rock you had ever seen in your life, laughing and crying together as he slipped it over your ring finger, for your marriage meant the binding of the living and the dead, and the binding of you and him— a new beginning.

but this time your wedding wasn’t at the cathedral, but under the pretty magnolia tree where you had met, now accompanied by the maitlands as barbara cried, and juno as she herself officiated the wedding, you thinking— hoping that she grew a soft spot for satoru, and that behind her stern resting face, she was glad satoru was finally a free man and granted a second chance.

giving your soul up was nothing to you, and it didn’t hurt at all either… you feeling lighter in exchange actually… happy, with satoru standing in front of you and with a massive fucking grin on his face, shiny and bright as he practically jumped in his spot in excitement over you finally being his wife and that he got to keep you— and right this time… no lies or tricks or hidden secrets, but genuine authentic sacrifice instead, for it was the purest form of love.

because this is what fate had decided for the two of you.

it had decided that satoru gojo was meant to die… but it had also decided to bring you back to him as well— to the house of the maitlands, to the attic he was banished to, and back together again in each others cold arms where you belonged, defying the laws of the living and the dead and proving that life doesn’t end even after your hearts stopped beating.

fate had decided that you were both meant to be. that was always a fact.

and fate had decided that you and satoru gojo were meant to live, with unbeating hearts and icy cold skin, but souls still warm for each other nonetheless.

because through sickness and in health… death could not do you both apart.

you and satoru.

together for eternity.

a lovely and incredibly beautiful fanart of this fic can be found here by @courtneedsleep !! <33

taglist!! <33 (THANK YOU THANK YOU!):

@cupcaketeddybehr @soobiary @roachfun @waterfal-ling @saebaey @reneinii @luvvmae @cake-with-the-cream @pixie-dix @2ukika @cramelmacchiao @hy3phiren @fushigurioo @wil10wthetree @jameinfrau @pancakeszs @drftnzume @k0z3me @saelov3 @dindjarins1ut @starrnai @stilettoheelz @tinyray-lovesfood @iloveoldermenn @dazqa @applepi25 @aria-chikage @rose-tinted-kalopsia @runfrme @unofficialsapphire @dee-writes-anime @megumisluciouslashes @peachyaeger @yourstru1y4ever @yoonights @skendos @babylambdietcoke @yunstarz @dinomdubs @kalulakunundrum @s777athv @sugoroo @wastednightsonyou @miri222 @jayawaya @dazailover4ever @courtneedsleep @kcch-ns @halovianembrace @tsukuhoe @kayamor @lupicalbestwolf @therealkurapikakurta @amarahi123 @he-is-chaotic-she-is-psychotic

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lady-lauren · 2 months ago

Text

❥ KATSUKI BAKUGOU X FEM! READER

❥ WORD COUNT: 2.3k

❥ WARNINGS/TAGS: a/b/o dynamics (alpha Katsuki/omega reader), knotting, age-gap (Katsuki is in his grumpy 40s, you're in college), he calls you "kid", fucking in a pool, some mention of sex toys, degradation, creampie

→ Kinktober Masterlist ←

God, he’s too fucking old for this shit. Too god damn tired of the animal that kicks against his ribs whenever the slick smell of a willing cunt passes his nose.

“ ‘m sorry,” you whisper, rolling your hips to suck his cock deeper in your drooling pussy. He grinds his molars at the too-tight feeling.

“Fucking brat,” he hisses and clamps his hands to your doughy ass, jerking you up and down his cock. “Knew you were trouble. Fucking told you to stay away from me.”

Katsuki knew he would end up fucking the bright-eyed and bushy-tailed college girl the day you moved in next door. He tried to stop it, he really did, showing you his teeth and growling any time the sweet stink of your omega scent greeted him.

Yet he’s the one who couldn’t help himself. Humid summer air brought your pathetic smell right to him, had him peeking over the fence that separated his house from yours like a fucking perv.

The sight of you in your little pool, desperate to cool your too-hot skin, bikini bottoms floating next to you as you shoved a dildo into your aching hole was his breaking point.

And now here you are, stuffed full of throbbing, thick alpha cock. Because you begged him, all fat tears and plump pouts as your heat clawed at your insides.

He might be too old for this, but he’ll never get tired of how fucking stupid omegas get for dick.

“The t-toys just weren’t…weren’t good enough.”

You’re pinned between him and the pool wall, lips of your cunt dragging along his length over and over again as you try to find release.

Copious amounts of slick gush from you, making his thrusting easier. Pearly strings of your cream float around the pool, lost to splash of him fucking into you.

But even still, he’s so engorged with blood and hormones ready to knot that his fat cock struggles against your gummy walls. You hiss, not from pain, but from relief, so happy to be full that no amount of stretching will detract from your pleasure.

“You’re fucking pitiful.”

Shame briefly shines in your blown-out eyes, a bit of humanity peeking through the haze of animal instincts. Shit. This is why he hates this, why he’s tried to avoid all the breeding nonsense. Omegas are so emotionally squishy.

Not that he’s any better. One pout from you as you locked eyes with him across the yard made him jump a fucking fence and plunge his cock into your weeping hole at two in the afternoon.

“Just can’t help it, can you, kid?”

Red eyes trace over the body he’s been trying so hard not to imagine. The triangle fabric of your swimsuit is peeled away from your tits, your nipples puffy from how hard you were tugging on them before he got his hands on you.

A little mhmmmm-mhmmmm sounds from lips pressed too tightly together, your head lolling back as you keep bucking against him with your eager, exposed pussy.

You’re a mess, all swollen and gooey and desperate.

“Such a dumb omega,” he groans and wraps his arms around your back, pressing your soft body all the way against his, “fucking yourself out in the open. Wanted me to find you? Wanted the old man next door to fuck you stupid.”

“N-no,” you lie so easily. “Too hot, was too hot and couldn’t get off and—”

“Bullshit. You started splashin’ around out here just praying I’d catch your scent.”

“C-can’t help it, pr-promise. You just always smell so fucking good, alpha.”

Makes sense now why you always seem to be out on a walk when he gets home from work, and why you always seem to need something from him. He was a nice neighbor and gave you his number when you moved in all on your own, a little omega lost in a big college town. You would message him for help around your place at least once a week—changing light bulbs, fixing a leaky faucet, even opening a goddamn jar a few nights ago.

He told you several times to stop bothering him, yet you never could catch the hint that fooling around with an alpha was going to get you bitten.

Relentlessly he pounds his hips, the buoyancy of the water making it effortless to hold you and fuck in deep. His thighs barely feel any strain, his back muscles rolling like a true predator as he starts to use his arms to pull you up and down.

Katsuki slides his fat cock until it’s barely in your pussy, mushroom tip caught by the suctioning ring of muscle inside of you. Then he bottoms out, balls connecting with your ass under the water with a muted thump.

“God, fuck, that’s good, so good,” you’re fucking loud, “feel so fucking good in my pussy.”

“Christ, you wanna let the whole neighborhood knowing I’m fucking you?”

The fuck-drunk little smile on your face tells him that maybe you do.

And he thought he was the perv.

“You’re such a fucking slut,” he whispers furiously, kissing you with so much force it makes your back arch in his strangle hold.

A thick hand wraps around your throat. He doesn’t squeeze, just leaves it there possessively as his tongue forces its way between your lips. You unconsciously moan, your own tongue meeting his, but he presses it down, not wanting it in the way. You give in, letting him encircle your tongue with his own so he can taste you. He pulls back to suck your bottom lip into his mouth, teeth roughly dragging against it.

“Like feeling my cock spread you apart, hm? Maybe I’ll get you a dildo my size for next time you wanna put on a little show.”

You purr and it makes him want to scratch you to pieces.

The burning stretch of your omega cunt is bliss. The smell of sex and chlorine sting his nose, make him lose it a bit and press so hard inside of you that his cock nearly meets the resistance of your cervix. Not that you seem to mind it—your nails are sinking into his wet shoulders, holding on for dear life as he fucks you in the heat of a summer afternoon.

When Katsuki shifts his hips down, heavy cock sliding out of your tight hole, you bare your teeth and growl at a man nearly double your age.

“Easy, tiger,” he tuts and drops you in the warming water, “turn around and let me hit it from the back.”

He loves that your instincts are to obey.

You turn your back to him with an indignant little huff, bending over the edge of the pool and waiting. Katsuki locks his arms around your thighs, pushing up and letting the water do the work. Your legs float open easily, spreading wide as he spears his way back into your slutty hole.

“Ever been knotted before, kid?”

Looking over your shoulder, you shake your head, hiccuping as he works his shaft in and out of you.

“Please, please, ah, knot me. Wa-wanna know what it feels like.”

He’s toying with an ancient fire, he knows that. One fat knot from an alpha and you might be begging to move in with him, but it’s worth it. Your pussy feels too goddamn good and he’s too worked up not to plug you full.

Katsuki works you into an absolute frenzy, waves of water splashing onto the edges of the pool as you mewl and focus on how effortlessly he fucks you. Your walls meld to him, each thrust hasty and claiming, scented sweat steaming from the heat of your body and the blistering of the sun. His dick curves just perfectly inside you, cockhead purposefully brushing against the most sensitive, spongy spots within your depths.

“Surprised none of your stupid boyfriends knotted this tight cunt before.”

“Wouldn’t,” your fingers are gripping the edge of the pool for dear life, like you’re gonna drown any second, “wouldn’t let them.”

“And you’re gonna let me? Just a slut for older men?”

“Slut for you,” you correct him with a bounce of your ass against his pelvis, “love a big, strong alpha.”

He rolls his eyes at the shameless flattery, yet still the ego inside him flares to life.

“Young, stupid omegas always think they can get whatever they want,” he growls, all while keeping a rough pace inside your body, watching how the water parts for the two of you grinding into one another.

You give him a knowing gaze over your shoulder, sultry and coy.

You are getting exactly what you want. All you had to do was get his attention, pry at his most basic instincts and now here he is losing his mind over the tight squeeze of your omega cunt.

Maybe you aren’t so stupid after all.

But he’ll fuck you stupid, he’s sure of that.

“I’m too old for silly games, kid. You have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into.”

He proves his point by pawing at your belly under the water, pressing in until you can both feel how deep he is in your guts. The realization makes you whine, pushing hard back against him.

“You think I’m just some toy to use during your heat?” Katsuki tuts, licking at one of his canines. “Just wait until I knot this stupid cunt and you beg me to keep coming back.”

A symphony of sex is ringing in your backyard, sounds of primal grunts, shrill little screams, balls slapping against your ass, water gurgling and splashing.

Any animal nearby knows what’s happening, that nature is running its course and you’re both nothing but senseless bodies looking for the simplest relief.

Katsuki slides the hand on your stomach lower, pinching your aching clit before he starts swirling it under the pads of experienced fingers. You start thrashing, cunt sucking so tightly he’s sure you’re hurting with the need to cum.

“Pleasepleaseplease oh god please!”

You shatter and his pride nearly bursts with you. Your cunt clenches, so pleased to cum around a thick alpha cock. You babble absolute nonsense, beg for his knot and a string of thanks yous and pleases and alpha alpha alpha dripping from your mouth into the wake of the pool.

The way your pussy squeezes him tells him you’ve been looking for this orgasm for hours, walls so swollen and pulsing. You must’ve been fucking yourself with useless toys since morning and finally got desperate enough to make a scene and get him to fuck you the way you needed.

“Poor thing,” he coos, watching your cream float to the surface of the water.

You’re totally mindless now as he continues to fuck you, body sloshing in the pool as he manhandles you to take what he wants.

“Don’t even know if you can handle a knot, kid. You’re too tight.”

That stirs you, makes you flatten your hands against the edge of the pool and push back to meet his rhythm. Over and over, you keep up with him, so fucking fraught to finally feel an alpha swell in your guts.

“Please don’t stop, please. Need to feel it, been in heat for d-days.”

“Oh omega, have you been fucking yourself silly with all the wrong toys, hm? Been stuffing yourself all alone in your room? Should’ve, ah, just asked me to come fix it.”

“You told me to stop b-bothering you…”

“You’ll annoy me when your sink’s leakin’ but not when your pussy is? So fucking stupid.”

Only he’s starting to go dumb at the wrap of your cunt around him. The beast in his belly is raging, alpha instincts boiling in the summer sun.

“C’mon, slut, milk my cock,” he pants and slams into you, lost in the way the water reflects around your curves and how your thighs are locked around his waist. He swears your body listens, some reflexive instinct that has your pussy clamping around his shaft until he can feel the veins of his cock squishing into your walls.

The orgasmic build starts rushing up his spine, inflating the base of his cock inch by inch.

“Holy shit, fuck~” you whimper at the first stretch of his knot. “Kat–Katsuki, ‘m so fucking full!”

Finally he bursts, knot bulging into your gumminess until you’re plugged with him. His cum spills into your tight channel, filling you whole.

Your sweet, stupid omega brain can barely comprehend the stretch. Another orgasm wrecks your body, has you falling face first into the pool. Katsuki scrambles to grab you, hoist you up and into his arms as you gasp and crest and cum all over him again.

He can’t help but chuckle, easily maneuvering his back to the pool’s edge. He lets you calm down in his hold, your head falling against his shoulder as you try to breathe.

“Get what you wanted, brat?”

Katsuki pats your bloated belly, making you squeal as he rubs the heel of his hand against his knot.

You nod dumbly, eyes closing to focus on the feel of him. He smirks realizing you’ll never forget him, your first knot. Omegas really are so emotional.

Yet he’s taunted by the stupid bikini bottoms still floating in the water, mocking just how easy it was for you to boil him down to his base instincts.

He’s too old for this shit. Especially as you start grinding down against his knot, cooing, reminding him you’ll be fucking him until your heat decides it’s done with him.

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pennjammin · 3 months ago

Text

run, rabbit, run

JJK HALLOWEEN! nanamixreader

summary ❥ you babysit for the wealthy single dad who lives across the street. it’s the end of october and his halloween party is the talk of the neighborhood. you’re not invited because the kids are out of town, but you decide to pop up on him anyway, and he shows you just how badly he’s been dying to get you alone without the children.

CONTENT: age gap, 86’d sorcery, dilf!nanami, toys, smut, alcohol, dom!nanami, cunnilingus, afab!reader, fluff, friends to lovers kinda, bossxworker, aftercare, slowwwww burn, reader wears animal ears during sex, breeding kink, spit kink, masochism.

word count. 10k

soundtrack 💿: eating - madeintyo

p.s. there’s a joke in here involving the color of 🐱; i know everyone’s is not the same color so , fill in the blank for the color that fits yours if u have one LOL

✩

You give your ass a good shake.

You’re making sure the long, fluffy tail poking out of your blue shorts isn’t going to fall out. It doesn’t.

You’re dressed as a fox, but not just any fox. A fox cop. You have on a short blue collared top, matching shorts, and of course you’d be no real cop without your utility belt housing fake handcuffs and a plastic baton. To top it all off, you’re wearing fuzzy fox ears on your head, and sheer tights to cover your legs.

You nod in the mirror, satisfied. But the real test, to you, is if Mr. Nanami will like it just as much.

Mr. Nanami is your employer, but more importantly, your neighbor. You watch his two young children five days a week; sometimes even overnight when he has a particularly busy work day. You consider yourself close with them, but your feelings about Nanami are a little deeper than that.

You’d seen him the first time a little under a year ago, when he’d been out on an early morning jog. From then, on you’d become disgustingly obsessed ever since.

Your schoolgirl pining only gets worse every time you see him, and recently you've even gone as far as trying to shamelessly flirt - but he seems to have absolutely no idea. That is the less painful explanation, the other being that he’s just not interested.

But you’re planning to see if you can get that to change tonight. You always dress sensible in front of his children; this will be the first time he's seeing so much skin. It has to work, right?

Tonight, Nanami is throwing the party of the century. He has house workers of all kinds who serve towers of food and delicious mixed drinks. The cherry is that his entire gated lawn has been decorated to the perimeter of fun inflatables and spooky decorations. You know it's mostly for his kids, whom he goes nothing short of above and beyond for.

However, he had informed you days ago that they would be out of town this weekend - and, even if they were not, he's off work, so he doesn’t need you. This means he also had not invited you to his party.

You clearly still intend to show up unannounced, a bold move on your part.

You lock up your house - a small, co-owned property that truly looks out of place across from Nanami's home - which he technically pays the rent for. You carefully make your away across the overcrowded street full of cars, decorations, and humans who are already half past drunk.

As you walk up the stone steps that lead to his front door, your stomach is keyed up. You shouldn't feel any different than you normally do when coming over for work, but you’ve really let this highly unprofessional crush of yours get out of control.

You make it to the porch. You're unsure if he will even hear the doorbell, but you press it anyway. The door slides open after about ten seconds, as if he has been standing there watching it. You feel your body freeze immediately upon seeing him.

Nanami is towering over you in the threshold. His face lights up almost instantly, but that's not all that has your heart threatening to crack open your rib cage; it's also his delicious white button down, popped open by a few to reveal tiny bits of blond chest hair, and then of course there are the long, white ears on top of his head.

“Why hello, officer, did we get a noise complaint?” He chuckles at his own dad joke before bowing his head in greeting. “Sorry, I’m just surprised to see you. I figured you would be thrilled to not have to look at these four walls for a few days while my children are with... their mother.”

You watch his face drop in disgust at the mention of his ex-wife, but he’s never said anything bad about her. Whenever you’d asked why things hadn’t worked out, he’d said "they just didn't." And that was that, but part of you aches to know what had happened.

It shouldn’t matter. He is not interested in you. He gives you a paycheck, and that is all.

"Well," you begin carefully, "Who would want to miss out on the most exclusive Halloween party of the year?"

This coerces a deep laugh out of Nanami, then he steps aside and allows you to walk in. He is holding a short rocks glass of unidentified brown liquor, and you can smell whatever it is in a cloud around him.

Once inside, Nanami’s voice is quite muffled from the clank of dishes and bustle of workers. The two of you stop to stand in the foyer, a grand crystal chandelier winking at you from above.

"Exclusive isn't the word I'd use," he says, following your eyes as he takes a sip. "Everyone and their mother is here. Literally." He tilts his glass towards an elderly woman who stands next to a redhead about Nanami's age.

You should be laughing at his joke but instead, your stomach knots grow tighter at the reminder of how many people his age are here preying on him, the neighborhood catch, with careers and homes of their own.

Nanami is seven years your senior, you think. No wonder he wants nothing to do with a young, non career-oriented thing like you when he has all of these sophisticated people crawling at his feet.

You can't think about that now, or the courage you’ve spent a week building will cease to exist.

"Heh - well, either way," you continue, "it's a big party. I know the kids aren't here, but-"

"But I'm glad you are," Nanami smiles, his eyelids hanging a little low from the liquor in his system. "You look very nice, darling. I like your ears."

He grins and points to his own headband. A grown and very, very large man dressed as something as vulnerable as a little rabbit has your nerves aflame.

"Hmm, I bet you do," you tease. “Like it so much you had to copy me?”

Nanami makes a disapproving sound with his tongue, leaning forward a bit to be eye level with you. "Copy you? I was unaware that rabbits and foxes were the same animal. In fact," he adds, "if I'm not mistaken, foxes are a rabbit's natural predator."

You had been trying to look away from him now that he has moved so close, but as the last sentence rolls out of his mouth, you make the mistake of looking directly into his eyes - and what you see makes your limbs jelly. Maybe it's your delusions, but he seems to be drinking you up equally as much as he is his liquor.

You laugh to pop the bubble of tension, but Nanami's face remains as still as ice.

"Well, I certainly don't think I pose a threat to you, sir," you say, voice unnervingly dry. "You are twice my size."

At this, his intense stare transitions into a soft smile. "You just have to get my guard down. Then, I'm sure a little thing like yourself would be able to have your way with me."

You blink quickly, assuming you've misheard him. Then again, though, he tends to say things that could be flirty - but he is just a naturally charismatic man. Means nothing.

"Ah," you mumble out, shifting your weight from side to side. You have to find a way to change the subject, but most importantly, you need get his attention off of you. You’d wanted it so bad, now you don’t know how to handle it. As you scheme, he sips his drink again, eyes still watching you over the rim of the glass.

"So... the kids always go with their mom on Halloween?" you ask abruptly.

Nanami quickly swallows his sip before shaking his head. "Well I had them for the Fourth of July, you recall."

You do recall. A little too well. Nanami in nothing but tight, black swim shorts and his signature sunglasses as he flipped meat over the grill - and you playing in his pool with the kids. He’d invited you to celebrate the holiday with him after his kids had begged, but your mind was definitely elsewhere. The memory popping into your head almost makes you not hear what he says next.

"We alternate holidays. So I will have them for Thanksgiving, she for Christmas," he shrugs a shoulder. "I would have traded Thanksgiving for Christmas, but alas. Christmas is always the busiest day of the year for me, so they would just miss out on time with their father anyway. I couldn't ask you to ditch your holiday plans for us, again, either."

He sighs. You feel your heart ache; he cares deeply about his kids, but he is definitely a workaholic. That is why you spend every chance you get at his house… well, that’s mostly why. But even then, you sometimes wish you stayed more to help, because Nanami works tireless double shifts, then spends his off days trying to make up for lost time with the kids.

"Don't be so hard on yourself," you say, attempting to comfort him. "You're an amazing father who is doing all he can. They love you so much."

He smiles and bows his head politely, so as to say thank you. "They love you as well. Sometimes, I think more than they do their mother."

You swallow a choke, before rutting out, “Surely not."

Before Nanami has the chance to reply, an older woman who you’d come to known as Agnes walks by with a large tray arraignment of bright green cocktails.

“Nanamin!” she shrieks out. “Where would you like me to put these? Very afraid of them falling. There’s drunkards crawling up the walls! I’ve already swept up sixteen broken glasses! Sixteen!”

You and Nanami turn to look at her with an equally astonished expression.

Nanami leans forward a bit to whisper in your ear, “My apologies in advance for her erratic behavior.”

Agnes is still staring wildly between the two of you as you giggle, awaiting further instructions from Nanami.

“Sit them wherever you think is safest,” he says calmly.

She huffs but ultimately takes his word, speeding off with her kitten heels clacking against the marble floor.

Nanami turns back to you and opens his mouth, but another voice cuts him off.

“Nanami, sir!”

You feel a twinge of irritation in your chest, but you really shouldn’t. He is the host and people need his attention. You should have seen this coming.

“Is everything okay?” he questions politely, turning to face the short brunette in front of him, who bats her eyelashes.

“I… I think that someone is fighting outside,” she says quickly, unable to keep eye contact.

Nanami is a smart man, though. “Oh? Well, what shall we do about that?”

“I thought you could run and stop them,” she says, twisting a piece of her hair around her finger, glancing at you out of the corner of her eye.

“I’m in no mood to be in the middle of a brawl,” he says sternly. “Have the butlers stop it, and remove them. You try not to get involved either.”

She huffs and spins on her heel, walking back through the living room with an angry stomp in her step.

Nanami clicks his tongue, “I really need to have her counseled in compulsive lying. She cries wolf so many times a day.”

You’ve never seen her before, she must be new. This makes you jealous all over again. She’s not quite as old as the rest of the workers, but still older than you. The issue is you see yourself in her, the uncontrollable pining over your shared boss. She just makes hers much more obvious.

Nanami clears his throat, and you notice too late how his hand has slithered to the small of your back.

“Perhaps we should escape somewhere more secluded, hm?” he says. “I really am enjoying our conversation. A shame we keep getting interrupted.”

You swallow thickly. The hair on your spine has raised at his sudden contact, making you shiver.

“Yes, that’s a good idea, sir,” you say, trying to hide how dry your voice has gotten.

Not another word is uttered before Nanami is swiftly whisking you off to another room; his hands now free of his drink and instead gently guiding you by his hand placement.

His gaze is not as focused on you as it is leading you both through the overwhelming crowd of people, and to the hall under the stairs that you know for a fact leads to his workspace. He moves his hands into yours as he gently pushes you ahead of him.

You take the lead and find yourself pushing open the big door to his study. Inside is a complete reflection of Nanami, his wealth and his cleanliness. Even his desk is free of papers, or any indication at all that he works in here.

You recall the days he works from home, in this very study, and he'd still be in his work suit, just minus the blazer. You'd let the kids sneak in on him, only once or twice thoughout the day, just to see his smile; and while you’re already there, you'd drop off a cup of hot coffee to help him plow through the rest of his shift.

He shuts the doors behind you both as you run to make yourself comfortable in his desk chair, spinning around like a child.

As you do so, you fail to see or hear his fingers slyly clicking the lock on the door.

“Much better,” Nanami breathes, moving to flick on a floor lamp in the corner, giving the study a soft, warm glow accompanied by the full Halloween moon. “Now, what were we discussing?”

“You, uh,” you clear your throat as you stop spinning in the chair to face him. “You really didn’t have to come in here just to talk to me. You are the man of the evening, you know.”

Nanami rolls his eyes, an out-of-character action you never thought you'd see, but one that looked so tasty, so sultry. God, you’re a pervert in heat - and your sweet, sweet boss is completely oblivious to the kind of horrible thoughts you have daily about him.

Nanami's now staring at you. His mouth is moving, but you have no idea what he had been saying.

"… to spend time with all of those shallow, insolent creatures,” you register, “when I have someone like you here?" He walks over to the desk and leans against it, right next to you now, as he crosses his arms over his massive chest. "We have never just sat down and talked. We always have little people depending on us or wanting our attention. Tonight, I’d like that to change.”

You let his words simmer for a moment. “What is it you’d like to talk about, Mr. Nanami?” you then question.

“What did I tell you about that ‘Mr.’ nonsense?” He frowns. “That makes me feel so old.”

"Sorry, sir," you gulp, not intending to upset him. You just can't help the way 'Mr.' and 'Sir' roll off your tongue, or how bad you enjoy seeing him shift uncomfortably at the use of the names.

"Meanie," he tuts, knocking you playfully with his leg. Another uncharacteristic action.

"What'd I do?" you blink, tilting your head as you look up at him.

"You mean besides drive me insane with your teasing?" he questions, before his eyes widen and he looks as though he's just spilled a secret. "I- wow, I am sorry. That is not what I meant to say."

"I drive you insane?" you echo. "I didn't even think you noticed my… teasing.”

Nanami's face is neutral, but his jaw is working under his skin. "I’m not naive, little fox." He lets out a breath. “This was truly an excellent costume choice.”

He leans forward and flicks the furry ear on your head.

“Thank you,” you smile. “I can’t say the same for yours. You hardly scream innocent bunny.”

“What about me isn’t innocent?” he raises a brow, standing off of the desk.

“I…” you blink as he walks around to the back of the desk chair. “You’re just, um…”

“Fox got your tongue?” he coos, spinning the chair so that you’re forced to face him.

You inhale a deep breath and hold it as heat travels through your stomach and right to the center of your thighs.

“You’re a man who is about his business,” you say. “I imagine you’ve… had a lot of life experiences,” you pause to remind yourself to breathe, but it’s hard because of how ferociously Nanami is staring into your eyes. “So you c-can’t be all that innocent…”

“You seem nervous,” he coos. “Here. Let’s stand up, I’ll sit down. Maybe that will help you to not be so tense, hm?”

Your body obeys before your mind catches on. You’re standing in a beat, and Nanami has replaced you on the chair. Your bottom hits the crease of his large desk, and you slam your hands down on the surface to balance yourself.

“Sorry,” you say, putting a hand up to cover your face. “I don’t mean to imply that you make me uncomfortable, sir.”

Nanami's pupils flash white, but it's gone so quickly, you might have imagined it. "If I do, please let me know immediately.”

“No,” you say, dropping your hand, “I just think we need to get to know each other better, right? Our entire relationship is through the kids. I know that your son’s favorite shade of green is kiwi, but I don’t even know your first name.”

Nanami chuckles at this. “You know, I was thinking exactly the same thing.” He taps your knee. “Kento, silly girl. My first name is Kento.”

"A-And your favorite color?” you continue, trying to ignore how close he’s moved the chair towards you, now that you have fully planted your bottom on his desk.

“Pink,” he says, serious as death.

You giggle. “Why pink?”

“It’s the color of my favorite thing to eat,” he says, slowly placing his arms on either side of your thick thighs, hands planted flat on the surface of the desk.

You think for a moment. “Strawberry ice cream?”

“No,” he cocks his blond head to the side and his eyes fall on your tights. “Try again.”

You pretend to think, though you fear you may be catching on now. “Hmm, dragonfruit?”

“Nah,” Nanami says, looking up at you through his eyelashes. His pupils have been dilated from the alcohol, but there is an unrelated darkness in his eye now. “Something I don’t even have to swallow.”

You gulp. “Oh,” your suspicions have been confirmed.

“Get it now, little fox?” he coos.

“Mhmm,” you taunt back. “Well, I suppose I came prepared with your favorite dish, then.”

“Did you?” His hands boldly make their way to the top of your thighs, barely hovering over the skin but enough to make the flesh there light on fire. “Prepared it all nice and pretty for me?”

“Yes sir,” you nod eagerly, feeling your own boldness appear as your knees slide further away from one another. “How do you like it?”

“Extra moist,” he grits hungrily, fingernails curving into your tights and shredding a thick rip! through the material.

You gasp, entire torso lurching forward as he drags the hole bigger and bigger.

“Sorry, little fox. They were in the way,” he shrugs an innocent shoulder. “And what should we do about these shorts? They’re in the way, too.”

“Then let’s get them off,” you whisper, hardly registering that such filth had been uttered.

This truly can’t be happening. Is Nanami… Kento Nanami actually going to eat you out? Are his hands really slithering up your waist and fumbling with the button on your shorts, or are you in some kind of sick daydream?

"Mr. Nanami-"

"Please," he holds up a hand, one still remaining on the button of your shorts. "Kento. Call me Kento."

"Kento," you echo softly, and his eyelashes flutter. “You really want to do this?”

Nanami sucks in a breath. Several moments of silence pass, then his fingers are gently pressing against your chin, and he has risen to tower above you. "Maybe it's the liquid courage in me that's pushing me," he says, "but I’m okay with that. I dream about you on my tongue, night after night. I need you, Y/N.”

Instead of allowing you to reply, Nanami's lips are assaulting yours in a flash. A harsh, irrational kiss from a man who's lost his battle of self control.

Your hands fly up to his face to balance yourself at the sheer force the shock of the kiss has on you. He groans softly into you as your lips mold together, getting used to the shapes of each other’s mouths.

You want to begin deepening the kiss, but Nanami is suddenly pulling away.

"I'm sorry," he says quickly. You look at his face; for a man who is always so calm and composed, he is flushed and even shaking a little. “I should have asked if that was okay.”

"Did you hear me complaining?" you ask sternly.

“No-”

“Then shut up and kiss me, Kento.”

He wastes no time obeying your command; this time as he kisses you, his hands find the soft skin where your hips crease into your thighs. You’re aware of your thighs rubbing against his stomach as he crawls further on top of you.

You slide your arms up around the back of his neck to hold onto him as his lips work pure ecstasy into your mouth.

You sigh against him and he digs his fingers into your sides to get you to do it again. Now his tongue is in your mouth, softly swirling your own, smacking fiercely on your lips as he does so.

You're panting now, but Nanami is swallowing your breath with every second. He's leaning his weight on his palm, so his body isn't quite attached to yours, but you want to make him lose his balance so he can crash down on top of you. Every moment that you stay like this, your cunt drips wetter and wetter, seeping through your shorts onto his desk.

"So perfect," Nanami utters into your mouth, "s'much sweeter than I deserve."

You frown at his self deprecation but don't comment, instead your hands start sliding down his chiseled back, exploring the deep ridges and shapes of pure, hard muscle.

Then, plop! You blink in shock as his bunny ears have fallen plum onto your face, nearly gauging out your eye.

"Oh," he gasps, breaking away from you. "Forgot about these."

He pulls away from you, standing upright but staying between your legs. You swallow a needy whine at his absence, before sitting up with him, staring expectantly.

"Think they'll look better on you though, huh, darling?" he coos, reaching over your head and plucking your fuzzy ears off. Then, he’s replacing them with his bunny ears. "There, that's more fitting. I feel much more like the hunter than the hunted.”

You tilt your chin defiantly. "Mm, so I'm just an innocent rabbit in the sights of a dangerous hunter?"

“Clever bunny,” Nanami murmurs, leaning forward and catching you by surprise with a wet kiss at the nape of your neck. You shudder. “Time for me to eat my latest catch, hm?”

“I-I guess so-”

“Oh, don't get shy now, bunny,” he mewls against your ear. “Do you want to do this?”

You pretend to consider it, but your dripping hole has already answered for you. "Yes, sir."

Nanami purrs in response and taps your earlobe with his perfect teeth - before you're being shoved back on the flat surface. Three quick beats occur. Beat, shorts off. Beat, tights off. Beat, panties sliding slowly down your legs.

"God," he says, hooking his fingers over the trim of the panties, which are light blue in color, accented by an adorable pink bow in the front. "All this time, I could've had you like this, if only-” he cuts himself off to lean down and place a kiss to your inner knee.

Your nerves send repeated quivers over you. You dig your nails into the desk, but your palms are so sweaty that your hand slips. Nanami catches you, a heavy hand on your lower back, the other hand entangling in your panties and proceeding to rip them all the way off. Your clothes are now in a discarded pile to the right of you, fuzzy tail and ears a reminder of what got you into this position in the first place.

“Well we can make up for lost time now,” you whisper, sliding your feet farther apart until your knees are angled into the air - gaping pussy winking up at Nanami.

His eyes nearly jump from his body as he watches you open up for him, glistening cunt all in his face. He's sinking back down into the chair before either of you really processes it, and his heavy palms fall flat on your inner thighs.

"She's s'pretty, sweetheart," he coos, the breath from his words tickling your clit and making you writhe pathetically. "Haven't even touched you yet. Why are you shaking?”

You whine out in embarrassment. Something about your most perverted fantasies coming alive before you, Nanami talking to you like this, and him staring directly at the forbidden parts you'd never thought he'd see, is depleting your confidence.

"What's wrong, bunny?" he asks, reading your expression. "You look like you are second guessing this."

"N-No!" you cry out, making him jump, before you sigh. "Sorry, I didn't mean to yell. No, I want to. I'm just embarrassed."

"Why?" he perks a brow, astonished.

"Because you're so..." you huff uncomfortably, "fine, and here I am, of course anyone would be embarrassed of their own genitals, y'know I just kind of never expected this and-”

"Y/N," Nanami interrupts. "I've seen plenty of these before; all different types, sizes and colors. I am going to devour you regardless of what you think.”

You swallow thickly. Your head nods like a puppet, though you're unsure if that's you saying you understand, or telling him to go ahead.

While you're deciding, Nanami plants a kiss to your bikini line, then slides his hands to wrap his arms around your thighs so that it's now impossible for you to close them. Your stomach is on fire, and you're on the verge of gyrating your pelvis right into his stupidly perfect face.

"Tell me you want this, bunny," Nanami rasps, placing another loud kiss to your inner thigh.

"I want this," you confirm again, "want you."

You don't have to say anything else because his mouth has already found your clit. Warm breath travels between your folds as he keeps his tongue narrowed out to swirl agonizingly slow circles over the bulb.

Your hips convulse against his strength. It does nothing except prompt Nanami to flatten his whole mouth over your heat and pick up speed with his tongue.

"Oh, ohh," you drawl, your hands leaving the desk surface and going right through his fine hair. His hold on you ensures you can’t fall backwards, but you’re gripping his roots for dear life.

He grumbles against your cunt and you feel it all the way up to your ovulating uterus. The desire to have your womb house more of his children starts to enter your brain and you have to remind yourself that this is just sex.

Oh, but it's so much more than that. Nanami's taking his time to work your body, to know exactly which pace makes you cry out like a pathetic fucktoy, noting when you wriggle under his grip, as he pushes his fingertips into the flesh on your legs.

His warm tongue keeps your puffy lips parted effortlessly; lathering you up with his saliva, drinking in the fluid your body creates more of each second.

You sit up farther to look down at him; his eyebrows are furrowed and focused, his cheeks hollowed as he treats your twitching clit like his tongue’s dance partner.

He swirls, flicks, slurps - each variation unlocking a new noise from you as you fight back your orgasm.

As you watch him, your fucked-out, needy brain begins to tell you would give him whatever he wanted in this moment; six children and a house from scratch if that's what he requested. Because he deserves it; the way his tongue’s now dipping slightly into your desperate hole, making your hips jerk from the desk until he counter-forces them with his hands.

"Where do you think you're going?" he snaps, grazing his teeth over your clit.

You can’t even speak; he’s eaten your voice right out of you. His head shakes side to side as he plants his mouth back on you and peers up through his blond lashes, daring you to pull that stunt a second time.

Your hands are still deeply entangled in his roots, but at this point you can't keep your eyes in the front of your head. Your head lolls back on your neck as your hips twitch with an unholy amount of momentum. Your moans are growing dangerously loud; knowing full well there's an entire party nearby, as well as the possibility of nosy maids. Not that either of you care.

"Kento, s-so good," you lament, bucking your hips into his chin as if you could chase more pleasure than he's already giving you. The heat in your stomach is the first indication that your pleasure is morphing into an orgasm, but you don’t want to cum yet.

You want to try and run again, just to give yourself a little time to catch up…

The minute Nanami feels your hip bones sliding away from him, he pulls his mouth off of you; your orgasm slipping away. You take a deep breath in regret.

“Someone must not want to cum,” he taunts, keeping his mouth close to your trickling cunt. “Need you to stay still.”

“I can’t,” you breathe, trembling.

“Try for me?” Nanami requests softly, lifting your thighs into the air before plopping your feet flat on his shoulders.

He plants a heavy kiss to your clit after the adjustment in your position and you dig your toes into his back.

“F-For you,” you repeat mindlessly, brain officially scrambled like a breakfast platter.

“Mmh-” Nanami grunts, planting his fat tongue back between your slick folds, working his jaw intensely to finish pulling the orgasm out of you. He sticks the narrow tip back at your hole, flicking the rim of the inside as if it’s his purpose for living.

Your toes lift into the air as Nanami tests your flexibility, pushing your knees next to your ears. With the pressure built up in your stomach, you barely have time to mutter out the announcement of your orgasm before you're cumming all over his tongue and clenching your walls around the wet muscle.

"Give it to me, bunny," he moans, words muffled because of the way you're gripping his tongue with your pussy.

You keep shaking for a solid thirty seconds, because he is refusing to take his tongue out of you. When finally you’ve calmed to a slight twitch, he removes his face from between your thighs and the entire lower half of his face glistens in the light.

"That's one," he murmurs to himself, crawling back over you to plant a sloppy kiss on your lips. "You did so well. You taste so sweet, bun.”

"Can I return the favor?" you ask needily, dragging your palm down his chest.

He grinds his pelvis across your lower half, so that you can feel the sheer length of his bulge beneath his pants. "What for?"

Your eyes widen at just how large it feels; surely it's smaller than it appears.

"Wanna please you, sir," you babble out, watching his eyebrows furrow at the self-proclaimed pet name.

"Hm, think that ship sailed long ago,” he chuckles, rubbing his clothed dick against your inner thigh this time, and now, you take notice of the warm trail of precum that’s leaked through his pants onto your skin.

You dig your nails into his chest instead of replying. He bites back a groan and kisses your neck.

“I’m going to have to restrain you if you want’a keep being so touchy," he whispers sternly.

"I do have handcuffs," you say, following it with a giggle. Though you’re only half joking.

"That's cute," he mewls. "You think I need handcuffs to restrain you?" He pauses. "What's that you said? That I'm twice your size?"

You swallow thickly, remembering that you had, in fact, said that.

"So I can, and will easily pin you down, bun," he continues. "Don't act up, and I won't have to, yeah?"

You wish you can say you won’t, but if he thinks you dislike the idea of being pinned down, he must not be faking his innocence, like you’d thought.

A moment later, he's standing away from you, and his hands expertly unbutton his shirt. You watch him with desire, and he smiles a little shyly at you as he shrugs off the garment and tosses it to the floor.

“Funny, you’ve seen me shirtless before,” he says suddenly. “Why do I feel a bit nervous about it this time?”

You giggle and cock your head to the side, legs still spread wide. “Should’ve always felt nervous. I’m a huge pervert, y’know.”

Nanami dips his head before coming back to be close to your body again, his fingers mindlessly tugging on the hem of your shirt now.

“I know,” he whispers. “A little minx, you are.”

“Took you long enough to realize it, hm?” you tease as you lift your arms to assist him in removing the shirt. But you are caught off guard when he doesn’t continue.

"You're still sure you want to do this?" he questions, changing the subject. “I'm sorry. I'm going to ask a hundred times, it’s just a habit.”

"Yes, Kento," you rasp frustratingly. "Do I have to get on my knees and beg to be fucked for you to get it?"

He blinks, stunned, as if that is not something he ever considered; but does sound appealing to him.

"No," he says quickly, slowly lifting your shirt further over your body. "How did we end up here, hm? Was this your plan from the moment you crashed my Halloween party?"

"Uh-uh," you say innocently, as he pulls the shirt over your head. Now you sit completely naked in front of him - save for the bunny ears on your head.

"I get the feeling you're a big, fat liar," he teases, leaning back over you, now your stomachs are touching and everywhere your skin meets is tingling. "Didn't I tell you to be a good girl? Good girls don't lie."

“‘M not lying," you argue. "Admit you were over here waiting for me to show up all night."

"Maybe I was," he murmurs, dragging his top teeth over the connection between your neck and your shoulder before planting a wet kiss on your collar bone. "And you came for me, like always."

A gasp erupts from your throat and Nanami cuts it off by sliding his hand there. He uses his fingers to apply the gentlest amount of pressure to the sides of your neck and your body arches against him.

"Tell me if anything I do is too much for you, little fox," he coos in your ear before dropping his hand from your neck and standing back straight to quickly unbuckle his belt.

He slides the garment out of his belt loops, and discards it to the side, on top of your clothes. So in other words: close by.

"Kento," you pant, "please."

"Please what?" he questions, raising a brow innocently as he pops open the button to his tight pants - visibly taking a deep breath as his bulge pokes free.

"You're dragging this out," you whine. "I've needed you for so long. This is torture."

"So what?" he shrugs, allowing his pants to fall to the floor, where he steps out of them.

"I..." you cut yourself off with a frustrated grunt.

"You said please, but you aren't using your words, little fox.” He slides his body back over yours - his boxers now being the only barrier between you. "What do you want?"

"You, your cock, your mouth," you pant all of it out in one quick sentence. "I... I just need you inside of me, Mr. Nanami."

Your breasts rub against his hard chest, teasing your achingly hard nipples. Just so pathetic. Can’t control yourself. Your brain's swirling with desire and ecstasy for him. If he can't read your mind, you're sure he can see it in your face.

"Okay, sweetheart," he says, voice returning to its usual softness, "you got me. All yours."

He tugs his boxers down quickly, desperately. Now your hips are aligned to each other's. He's still hovering, his cock not even touching you yet. He slides a hand between your legs as his other keeps you steady, gripping harshly on your hip which is sure to leave a delicious bruise.

Your arms wrap around his neck and he drags his mouth across your jaw before attaching his lips to your neck. His fingers gather the drip from your hole, and then he slides them up through your folds and to your clit. He swirls the fingers softly, keeping his ear right next to your mouth so that he can hear exactly what he’s doing to you.

Your legs shake against his ribs while you moan for him, and he grunts as he takes in all of your body's reactions to his touch.

He goes to try and put a finger in your cunt but you grab his wrist. He does not argue with you, which should be a red flag, but you think you’ve won until he takes the hand he had been using to play with you and grips your wrist, yanking it back, and your entire body goes falling against the desk.

Somehow, both of your wrists are being pinned to the wood in one large hand now. You whine and squirm under him, but he doesn't care. His free hand grabs his cock.

He takes the heavy tip and taps it against your clit several times, each time causing you to gasp and arch against him.

"That's right," he whispers above you. "No escaping now, bun."

You blink up at him, lifting your hips to grind your pussy on him, which causes his lips to part and his eyebrows to furrow.

You open your mouth, tongue flying out, wanting to appeal to another twisted fantasy. “Need your spit,” you mumble shyly.

He seems to ponder for a moment before he realizes what exactly it is you are asking, and a moment later he is leaning forward, dripping a warm glop of saliva from his mouth down your throat.

“Mmh-” you moan as you swallow happily, before looking down between your legs where he is finally done lubricating himself on your juice. He's staring at you hopelessly, as if he’s thinking that putting his cock in you isn't going to be enough.

“So nasty,” he coos, “ready for me, sweetheart?”

"Hngh- please," you beg.

Not a second later, hot pressure is at your hole. Nanami slides his hips upward to push himself deeper, deeper, deeper - the girth feeling like it's going to simply rip you in half.

You shriek and shut your eyes tightly, waiting for the pain to pass. It doesn't.

You feel so embarrassed as he takes his free hand to lift up your left thigh, because pain shoots up through your stomach - and not the good kind.

"Ah- wait," you cry out, eyes falling open.

Nanami stops immediately. "What's the matter?"

"It... it hurts," you admit shyly, biting your lip. "Wh-Why d'you have to be so big?"

"Why d'you have to be so tight?" he chuckles back, but carefully slides out of you. "Hang on. I know what will help, little fox."

He pulls away from you, letting go of your wrists to lean over and dig into a random drawer in his desk. You have no idea what he could possibly be doing until he stands back straight, a hand still holding up your leg, while the other holds a small, light pink, bullet-shaped rubber object.

"Brand new," he says, eyeing it as he rotates it between his fingers. "Just put batteries in it."

You swallow as you realize what this implies. He knew he was going to fuck you - or at least, that he was going to use this toy on you at some point. Or, a third worse thing: it hadn't been for you at all.

You don’t want to think about that possibility, though.

He hands the little toy to you, a small buzz coming from it already.

"Hold it for me," he instructs. "I need my hands to keep my prey from running."

You gulp and do as he says, and again he is taking his cock head and pushing it against you, before it slides through the gummy entrance and you cry out again.

You hold the toy to your clit and the feeling travels straight through your veins. You focus on the vibrations and before you can even inhale again, your insides are completely full.

"Deep breaths, bun," he grunts, "feel her o-opening up… now.”

Did he just stutter? Kento Nanami, who's always so composed. You'd made him lose his wording. You.

Nanami takes his hands and pulls your knees up, holding them to his sides, while you keep your hand occupied on the little bullet between your legs.

The combination of the toy plus his cock filling you up and molding your walls against it has you aching to spill over, already.

Now that the searing has begun to dissolve, his cock is gliding effortlessly inside of you - feeling as though the organ was crafted to fit you perfectly. Your juices cover every inch of him, delicious squelches creating a symphony with your moans as Nanami's pace quickens.

He has his hands still pressed on your thighs but he leans forward and gently pulls a nipple into his warm mouth. You don't know what to do with your free hand, so it ends up on his back, nails mercilessly breaking open his skin. He hisses and nips your nipple between his teeth.

"Fuck. Me," he groans, pulling away from your chest to look down at you. You want to make a comment about how you already are, but he just looks so fucked out - so vulnerable. Lips puffy and wet, eyes shut tight, hair dangling over his forehead.

He’s ruined.

He claws his fingers into your outer thighs. His fingers dig so hopelessly into you as his cock swirls your insides, his hips now moving in a rhythmic wave motion.

Your hand falls away from your clit with the toy and you hardly notice that it's gone because now, his pelvis is brushing over it, sweat practically gluing the two of you together.

"Aw," he purrs, and you look up to see that his eyes are staring directly between your legs. "You’re creaming all over me. Shit - your cunt looks so good, swallowing me up.”

Your face heats and you take your hands to grip his arms, as he's now drilling into you so torturously that you're gliding up the desk - the sweat on your back making your skin slick. He notices you're moving away and shifts his hands to grab your hips, holding you down onto him, and now his fat tip is violating your cervix.

"H-Hah Kento, ngh - God," is all you can manage to say, but there’s nothing holy about what his cock is doing to you, as he angles himself upward, attacking your uterus from a new direction.

You shriek, so horribly loud. It sounds like a horror movie - which is fitting. You’ve nearly forgotten that it’s Halloween night; the moon full, your passions like the tides, being pulled to their peak.

You desperately feel a needy confession on your lips but you know that now isn't the time. You can't love a man you don't date... right? But you definitely love the way he's tearing up your insides, sure to leave you swollen and limping.

"I don't remember telling you that you could remove your hand," he snaps, realizing you’ve removed the bullet, "put it back. Now."

You shake your head, begging for mercy. "Was too much, c-can't take it."

"Yes you can," he whispers, leaning forward and hovering his mouth over yours, cognac-scented breath teasing your parted lips. "Put it back, or I stop."

You whine and obey, the vibration revisiting your clit making your body convulse against him.

"Mhmm, like that sweetheart," Nanami coos, staring at you as your face twists every couple of seconds from the introduction of new kinds of pleasure. "Stick that tongue back out for me."

Your mouth is open, drool practically spilling out of the sides in a millisecond. He's spitting another alcoholic saliva drop into your mouth the next.

His breath is ragged as he drags out, "Thought I knew everything. But y’teaching - hah - me new things. Like how I can never live without your pretty pussy, ever again."

You quiver your lip and dig your nails into his back again, ready to cum on his cock.

"S-Stop talking like that," you grit out. "G-Gonna cum if you don't stop."

"Is that supposed to scare me?" he questions harshly. "You can cum over and over. I’m not finished with you."

You shake your head, but before you can fire back, Nanami is suddenly sliding himself out of you. You panic and sit up, staring at him with wide eyes as he drops to sit on the chair.

His hands come up to grab your hips roughly, and he's effortlessly pulling you down off of the desk. Your stomach makes contact with his thighs as he lays you over his lap like a disobedient child.

"Nanami?" you breathe, but he doesn't seem to hear you at all.

"We just needed to pause for a second," he says softly, running a hand down your spine and over the hill of your ass. His voice is very misleading, as are his gentle gestures; you have no idea what's coming.

"N-No," you whine, "I was so close."

"But, naughty bunny, didn’t you tell me to stop?" he questions, distracting you from the fact that his fingers are sliding between your asscheeks and down to your swollen hole.

You jerk in his lap as two of his fingers glide down your slick, parting your thick lips, repeating the process several times just to watch you squirm.

“Y-Yes, but-”

“What’d I tell you about lying?” he grits, and a blink later his fingers have parted from your skin.

You turn to scold him and his hand cracks down on the back of your thighs.

You yelp, but the action exhilarates you in some kind of disgusting way.

“Oh, and here’s another for calling me Nanami,” he spits, another crack landing on your backside but this time - higher, and harder.

“K-Kento, I’m sorry,” you whine, but you truly don’t want it to stop. Your fingers dig into his leg and he hisses, his cock jerking against your stomach as his body responds.

“How sorry, bun?” he coos, voice faking softness before another pop! of his palm stings your skin.

“I’ll be good, promise,” you whisper, arching your hips up to encourage another smack.

“You like this, don’t you, naughty bunny?” he realizes suddenly, and you try to shake your head in denial - but he’s caught on. “Hm. I’ll only accept your apology if you give me two more orgasms. Deal?”

“Two?” you cry. “I-I’ve already had one!”

“Good things always cum in threes, baby,” he murmurs, running his hand over the pretty hand-shaped welps he’s left on your skin. “You can give it to me. You want to be good, don’t you?”

You don’t know when the shift happened, but you loved it. You loved how he was letting his soft facade crumble to the ground so that he could truly slap you around like you were just a hole. Truthfully, that’s all you wanted to be. Wanted to let him take out the stress of being a single father on your guts, fill you up with more babies to care for, and then kiss you on the forehead when it was all done.

Pathetic. This is still your employer, your boss. And not to mention how much older he is. You don’t care, but you’re unsure if he does.

“I wanna cum again, please,” you beg, wriggling your ass up to show him you still needed punishment.

He groans before his two thick fingers are pressing between your lips and then, shoving through the soft ring at your center.

Your body shamelessly arches, but he allows your arms to stay free, clawing into his skin wherever you can get a grip.

Nanami is making his own noises above you but you’re on the verge of tears, wailing and carrying on as he fucks you with his fingers, curling the tips into your squishy ridges to try and drive the cum out of you faster.

“Maybe we should get one of those tails with a plug,” he comments, tone implying he’s thinking out loud. “It’s a shame I didn’t get to see you in your cute little tail while I fuck you.”

“Hngh - no, mmh…” you don’t even know what noises to make anymore. Words escape your brain.

Nothing but mush and the burning of your approaching orgasm are on your mind.

“Hold it in for me,” Nanami requests suddenly, “I’ll tell you when I’m ready for it, sweetheart.”

“God,” you shake your head and clench your thighs, but Nanami’s strong hand forces them back apart.

Your toes curl on the other side of the chair, your head falling forward. The pulse in Nanami’s cock is still drumming against your abdomen, as if knocking on your tummy to threaten you to hold your orgasm.

“I-I can’t,” you say, “Please, can I-”

“Cum.”

Nasty, wet squelches don’t stop as your body sends you over the edge. Your vision blacks and you shake so hard that you nearly roll right to the floor.

He hums approvingly, slowing his fingers down as you clench around them. “Good job, bun. Only one more to go.”

“I can’t take another,” you shake your head, as he gently guides you up into a sitting position on his lap.

“You’re so strong,” he says, “the perfect person for me. The way you always take care of me and the kids, how you fit so effortlessly into our little family. I know you can do this for me, sweetheart. Let me repay you for all that you do for us. Make you feel good.”

You hadn’t expected this little speech. It almost brings you to tears as Nanami gently rubs your back, sliding his free arm underneath your legs to lift you princess-style back onto the desk.

“Say something,” he begs, his voice hoarse.

“I wanted to be good for you,” you grin softly, and he smiles back as he runs his hands gently over the top of your legs. “But you want to be good for me. Which is it?”

“Both,” Nanami whispers. “I told you that you already do everything that keeps me content. Now, I want to please you.”

You realize that he is passing his power off to you. Letting his dominance slip through his fingers and right into the palm of your hand. You think you can handle being in control for your final orgasm, so you grip him harshly by his cock and scoot your ass to the edge of the desk.

He moans so softly that it could have been a whimper. You take his curvy length and drag it up to be aligned with your hole.

“Is your cock alone gonna please me, hm?” you purr, swirling your hips to tease his cock head, salty precum spreading across your hole.

“Y-yes ma’am,” he mutters, body lurching forward as if he’s the overstimulated one.

“Prove it,” you quip, shoving him back inside of you before pushing your hips down onto him.

You furrow your eyebrows to try and pretend the pain of him entering isn’t still intense. You lift yourself off of your palms and feet, using them to fuck down onto his twitching cock.

“Hah - Y/N,” he speaks your name in two sultry syllables, putting his hands on the desk to fully release his control as you use him.

“Baby, I need to fill you up,” he continues, “b-but if you don’t want me to…”

“Yes,” you say, “want me to have your babies, Mr. Nanami?”

“Oh,” he whimpers, “shit. Shit, don’t say stuff like that.”

You whirl your hips on him in the shape of an ‘O.’

“Want to breed me?” you continue. “Make me all big and pregnant?”

“That’s enough,” he snaps suddenly, hand clamoring down on the belt that is to your side, before he grips the garment in his hand. He sits up from where he’d been leaning on you, before taking the leather and slithering it around your neck, pulling it through the buckle, and yanking it towards him like you’re just a pathetic bitch on a leash.

“You had your fun,” he grits, “now you need to remember your place, bunny. I’m going to fill you to the brim until your cunt can’t take anymore and it drips back out of you, got it?”

“Mmh,” you pull against his belt as your hips are no longer the once controlling the pace. “Nanami, n-nooo…”

Your voice tapers off as he fucks you, fucks you so good and hard and mean until you’re drooling and crying and shaking and hissing and-

“Cumming!” you scream, but Nanami shows no signs of slowing down.

“That’s it,” he says. “Number three. What about four?”

“Y-You said…”

“Oh, you’re the only one who gets to lie around here?” he chuckles, a deep hypnotic sound that vibrates against your chest. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m gonna - ngh” and one viscid moment later, Nanami begins to shudder, and it is the beginning of the end.

You cannot tell if you are mourning or rejoicing the conclusion of this insane chain of events, but you forget all about it when Nanami is spurting hot semen all over your taut, spongey walls - that are now sore and quivering from the excessive abuse.

Your name leaves his lips in between the sultry noises he makes, and his body jerks on top of you until he’s finished spewing his load. Now, he stands in front of you with his head dipped down as he pants for several seconds.

“Do you understand how addicting you are?” are the first words that leave his lips after he is able to drag his head up to look at you.

You’re focused on your own huffing as you try to come up with a witty response, but with your brain so fucked out, the only thing you can mutter is “Oh, Kento.”

He nestles his sweaty face into your neck and plants a feathery kiss there, reminding you that he is still the same gentle Nanami that tucks his children in bed at night and drinks green tea in the garden.

He is everything you have dreamed of, but the sex had truly sealed it. Now, as he slips out of you and his cum follows soon after, you feel your post-high clarity morphing into embarrassment at the fact that all you’d been feeling is lust; Nanami deserves so much more than that, including his recognition as a father.

“Why are you staring at me? Have I still got your nectar on my face?” he jokes, and you admire his ability to loosen the tension.

“I’m sorry,” you say meekly, “I just think you are amazing. I don’t want you to think I really did just come for some cock.”

At this, he laughs so hard that his torso shakes. You smile, as it is rare to hear, and you are the cause of it.

He grabs his shirt and begins to use it to wipe himself off, then does the same for you, his movements intentional and gentle as he cleans you up, rubbing all of the puffy, red reminders on your body softly.

“I don’t think that,” he says with a crooked smile. “But whatever the case, I do hope that things have… changed between us.”

You scoff. “I should hope so,” you tease, tilting your head as he stops his hands on your body. “I hope you’re not going around making every person who comes near you cum three times in one sitting and expect to just be friends.”

He grins. “Nah, that treatment is reserved for you, bun.” His hands slide up your hair and pat the fuzzy ears on your head. “We should keep these around, though. But I’d like to take you out before we use them again.”

You wrap your arms around his shoulders and bring his face to yours, planting a gentle kiss on his nose. “Of course. You did say good things come in threes,” you grin. “The sex was one. The date will be two. What’s three?”

And your question gets answered nine months later, when Nanami proposes to you on a white beach in another country.

…Right before you go into labor.

But of course, once the baby is out, it’s time to start on number 4 the following Halloween.

A/N 2.0

ty all sm for the love on this series so far i’m rlly havin the time of my life writing all these twisted monster-fucker stories ^.^

~ pennjammin

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