#gojo isn’t going to disappear if you blink geto -

[ansjsla]

This song + the latest cafe illustrations 🔛🔝

[kbwrites]

Breaking up is hard to do!

synopsis: breaking up with the jjk men.

⚝characters: Gojo, Geto, Nanami

⚝content: heavy angst, gaslighting(Gojo's), depression (Suguru's), mutual breakup(Nanami's)

⚝wc: 3.5k

Satoru Gojo

“Yeah so then Yuji popped out of the crate and surprised them all! You should’ve seen it baby!” Satoru wheezes holding his stomach as he recalls the event from the day.

No matter how hard you try though, you can only muster a small smile.

It had become really hard to do much else recently. With the weight of the hundreds of tasks at work taking its toll. Satoru looks over at you, waiting for a laugh—but it doesn’t come.

“Hellooo? Everything alright princess?” He questions giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

“Mhmm!” You nod.

He looks at you for another moment, unreadable expression on his face. Satoru shifts, clearly expecting more from you. “You sure? You’ve been quiet tonight. That’s not like you,” he says, his voice still light, but there’s a hint of curiosity now.

You try to hold back the frustration, but it bubbles up anyway. “I’m just tired, Satoru.”

“Tired? Seriously?” he mutters, pulling his hand away. “You work, what, a nine-to-five? You act like you’re running yourself into the ground.”

You blink, taken aback by his dismissive tone. “Satoru, it’s not just about the hours. It’s everything piling up, and—”

“Piling up?” He cuts you off with a scoff, already reaching for his phone. “Why didn’t you just say something sooner? You know I could’ve hired someone to handle that for you. I’ve got the money. You shouldn’t be stressing over... whatever this is.”

The words sting. You knew his mind would go there. It always does—like money could just make the exhaustion disappear, like hiring someone to take care of the smaller details would magically solve everything.

“It’s not about the money, Satoru.” you snap, trying to hold onto your patience. “I don’t need someone else doing my job for me. I just... I need you to listen.”

He raises an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “Listen? What do you expect me to say? You’re tired. I get it. But don’t act like you’re drowning when I could have fixed this a long time ago. Hell, I could’ve bought you time off or flown you somewhere. You're sittin' here sulking like I can’t take care of things.”

You clench your fists, the exhaustion now compounded by frustration. “It’s not about you fixing things, Satoru. Sometimes I just need support—not your money.”

He stares at you, eyes narrowing. “Right. So you want to feel miserable instead of letting me help. That’s real smart, princess.”

Your heart pounds in your chest as you shove clothes into your bag, the sound of zippers and drawers slamming echoing through the room. You can feel Satoru’s presence behind you, hovering, but you don’t stop. You can’t. Not after that.

“C'mon, princess.” he says, his voice exasperated, like he’s the one who's supposed to be annoyed. “What are you doing? Where do you think you’re going?”

You don’t answer, your hands moving faster, yanking more clothes off hangers, ignoring the sting behind your eyes. You’re so angry you can barely breathe.

“I’ll book us a trip,” Satoru tries again, a hint of desperation creeping into his usually arrogant tone. “How about Paris? We’ll stay at that five-star hotel you like, the one with the private balcony. You love that place.”

Your jaw clenches. “This isn’t about a vacation, Satoru,” you snap, stuffing the last of your things into the bag. “It’s not about your money or your fancy hotels.”

“Then what is it about?” he shoots back, his voice rising with frustration. “You’re acting like I haven’t given you everything. "What more do you want?"

You freeze, bag halfway zipped, your body trembling as you turn to face him. His icy blue eyes are wide, confused, and maybe even a little hurt, but you’re beyond caring. “I want you to see me!” you shout, the words tearing out of you, louder than you intended. “I don’t need you to throw money at the problem! I need you to actually understand what I’m going through!”

Satoru stares at you, speechless for once. His mouth opens, but no words come out. He looks almost... shocked, like he can’t comprehend that his money, his status, can’t fix this. That he can’t fix this.

“Do you even care?” you ask, your voice quieter now, but no less angry. “Do you care about how I feel? Or is it just easier for you to throw cash at me until I stop complaining?”

He’s silent, his gaze hardening as he crosses his arms. “I’m trying to help. What else do you want me to do?”

“I want you to listen!” You throw your hands up in frustration, feeling more alone than ever. “I don’t want your money. I don’t want trips or fancy dinners. I want you to care about me, Satoru. Not just the idea of me.”

His lips press into a thin line, but he says nothing. The silence is louder than any of his words.

As your hand grips the doorknob, ready to leave, Satoru’s voice cuts through the silence, sharp and bitter.

“Right, run off to Shoko’s.” he scoffs, his arms crossed defensively. “You always do this, don’t you? The moment things get tough, you bolt. Guess it’s easier to complain to her than actually deal with me.”

His words hit you like a punch to the gut, stopping you in your tracks. You turn slowly to face him, disbelief clouding your vision. He’s standing there, arms folded, arrogance in his posture.

“I always do this?” you repeat, your voice trembling with anger. “I’ve stayed through everything, Satoru!"

“You’re just like Suguru.” Satoru spits out, the words dripping with bitterness and desperation.

Your hand freezes on the handle. You weren’t expecting that. Slowly, you turn to look at him, and the mask of arrogance has cracked. His eyes are wild, wide with something close to panic. “Running away the moment things get hard,” he continues, his voice shaking slightly. “Is that it? Just gonna leave like he did?”

Your heart skips a beat, anger fading for a moment as something else stirs inside you. You’ve seen Satoru angry before, frustrated, even cold—but this? This is different.

“That’s not fair.” you say quietly, though the anger still simmers beneath the surface. “I’m not leaving because things are hard. I’m leaving because you’re not listening.”

Satoru’s eyes narrow, his lips pressing into a hard line. Then he snaps, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade, sharp and cold. “Well, fine. Go. I survived him abandoning me, I’ll survive you too.”

His words sting, burning through the air with a finality that makes your breath hitch. It’s a challenge, a defense—his way of masking the fear that’s clawing at him from the inside out. He’s pushing you away before you can leave, just like he’s done with everything else that’s threatened to crack his carefully controlled world.

You stand there, frozen for a moment, staring at him as his walls rise higher, shutting you out. This is what it’s come to. He’s too scared to let you in, too scared to admit that you leaving isn’t something he can just survive—that it’s something that terrifies him.

But he won’t say it. He won’t ask you to stay.

And that’s when you know.

Suguru Geto

You rest under the comfort of your blanket. How many days have you been in this bed? Three days? Four? 

The world was just too much right now, and your room was the only security available. It had been a week since Suguru vanished without a word, leaving behind nothing but unanswered questions and broken trust. Principal Yaga’s words still echoed in your mind—a whole village slaughtered, his parents among the dead. 

And not even a text.

You weren’t sure if he was even alive, maybe it would be better if he wasn’t. At least then you wouldn’t have to come to terms with the fact that the love of your life was now a wanted killer.

You took another tissue from the box, blowing into it and tossing the crumpled mess into the garbage can.

Satoru hadn’t responded either, was he okay? Did he know?

Your mind screamed for silence, for the thoughts to stop, but they kept coming, relentless.

“Angel?”

That voice… no it couldn’t be. You lower the covers from your face.

It was

“Hi baby...” his normally soothing voice does little to alleviate the ache in your chest.

“You…” your voice barely a whisper, threatening to break. “I thought you were dead.”

He moves closer, his footsteps barely making a sound on the floor, and you finally take him in. Despite everything, despite the horrors you’ve been told, he looks… normal.

How could he look so much like the Suguru you knew, the Suguru you loved, when everything inside of you was shattered?

Was this the same man who held you close? Whispered sweet nothings in your ear—promised to protect you with his life? 

“It’s me, (Y/N).”  he says softly, his voice cutting through the silence as if he had read your thoughts.

The tenderness in his tone feels like a knife twisting in your chest. How could he say that—so casually, so easily? Like everything was normal, like your world hadn’t come crashing down around you. You blink, trying to force the tears back, trying to find the right words, but nothing comes.

“Are you?” your voice is small, barely more than a whisper. Doubt lingers in every syllable.

He doesn’t respond to your question. Instead, his gaze softens, and without a word, he pulls the covers off of you. The cold air rushes over your skin, a stark contrast to the warmth you had buried yourself in, and for a moment you flinch, instinctively clutching the blanket before you let it slip from your fingers.

His eyes trace over your fragile form, and there’s something in them—a flicker of sympathy, regret, even—but it doesn’t change the fact that he’s the reason for your downward spiral. He knows it too. The weight of it presses on him, though he doesn’t say a word. Instead, he moves with a gentleness you hadn’t expected, sliding his arms under you and lifting you up as if you weighed nothing.

You want to protest, want to ask what he thinks he’s doing, but you’re too tired, too drained to fight. So you let him carry you. His arms are steady, and despite everything, you can’t help but melt in his embrace.

He takes you into the bathroom, the sound of running water filling the space as he sets you down gently. You can feel the cool tile under your feet as he kneels in front of the tub, turning the faucet on and testing the temperature.

You had so many things you wanted to say. You wanted to yell at him, curse him, ask him why. But you couldn’t.

He dips his hand under the stream, adjusting the temperature until it’s just right. His movements are deliberate, methodical, as if this is the only way he knows how to show you any kind of care right now.

You stand there, numb and silent, watching him. The man who destroyed your world, now kneeling before you, acting as though he can piece it back together with something as simple as a bath. It feels absurd, almost cruel, but at the same time, you don’t have the strength to stop him.

Suguru rises to his feet, his presence towering yet calm as he began to undress you. Gentle hands pulling his t-shirt off of you, the one you had been clinging onto for days.

His hands brush lightly against your skin as he lifts the shirt over your head, sending a shiver down your spine.

He had seen you in this state before, many times. But this….this was different.

Suguru guides you to the shower, washing your body with a gentleness you missed so deeply.

You close your eyes, letting him take care of you, even though you don’t understand why or how he can. The silence between you grows heavier with every passing second, filled with words unspoken and emotions too tangled to sort out.

Finally, you speak, your voice barely audible over the sound of the water. “Why are you here, Suguru?”

His hand pauses for a moment, the washcloth resting against your skin. You can feel the weight of his gaze on you, but when he answers, his voice is low, steady, like he’s speaking more to himself than to you.

“Because I….I love you” His voice almost too quiet, as if he’s afraid to say the words out loud.

“Then why, Suguru?” your voice trembles, almost breaking under the weight of your next words. “Is it true? You killed those people?”

The washcloth falls from his hand, splashing into the water as the silence between you deepens. He doesn’t speak right away, and the hesitation in his silence is an answer in itself.

You swallow hard, the air thick with the weight of the truth you already know but can’t bear to accept.

“They were… in the way,” he finally admits, his voice low, almost hollow.

You step out of the shower, the warm water sliding off your skin in slow rivulets. Without thinking, you reach for the towel, wrapping it tightly around yourself like armor.

This isn’t the man you loved, the one who spoke of protecting the weak, of valuing life. Yet, there’s something so heartbreakingly familiar in the way he says it—like a twisted version of the Suguru you knew, now wrapped in darkness.

“But those were people, Suguru,” you say, your voice fragile, as if you’re trying to reach the man you once knew beneath the monster he’s become. “Innocent people. How could you…?”

He takes a deep breath, stepping closer to you, his hand brushing against your skin, cold and distant. “Because this world is broken.” he murmurs. “And I need to fix it. I had to do it. Can’t you see that? We—sorcerers—we’re meant for something greater. And they… they were holding us back.”

You shake your head, tears brimming in your eyes. “I don’t understand, Suguru. I don’t understand any of this.”

He steps closer, his hand cupping your face gently, as though trying to reassure you with his touch. "Come with me." he whispers, his voice softer now, pleading. “Run away with me. Together, we can build something new. You don’t have to be a part of this broken world anymore. We can leave it all behind.”

Before you can respond, his lips press against yours, a kiss that’s both gentle and urgent, as though he’s trying to pour every unsaid word, every plea, into this one moment. It’s the Suguru you remember—the Suguru who once made you feel safe, loved.

But the reality of who he’s become crashes down on you.

You pull away, your hands pressed firmly against his chest, creating a wall between you. “No.” you whisper, your voice breaking. “I can’t.”

For a moment, Suguru just stands there, staring at you, his dark eyes searching yours for something—some kind of understanding, some sign that you’ll change your mind. His hand lingers on your cheek, his touch softer now, almost hesitant, as though he’s trying to hold on to whatever connection is left.

But then, slowly, he withdraws, his hand falling back to his side. He straightens up, his expression hardening as he steps away from you, giving you the space you so desperately need. The softness in his eyes fades, replaced by the cold determination you’ve seen before.

“You’ll see,” he says, his voice quiet, but there’s a sharp edge to it now. “One day, you’ll understand. When you see what I’ve seen, when you finally understand the truth about this world—you’ll come around. I know you will.”

His words hang heavy in the air, and without another glance, he turns and walks toward the door, leaving you standing alone, trembling in the silence.

Nanami Kento

Kento was an honest man. There was nothing he ever kept from you. Other people might view him as a hard shell, but you could read him like a book.

So when he came to bed that night, holding you just a little tighter than usual—you knew something was up.

You shifted slightly in his embrace, his grip tightening instinctively as if he feared you might slip away.

“Kento?” you asked softly, your voice breaking the stillness of the room. 

“I’ve decided to talk to Gojo tomorrow.” he said quietly, his voice steady but with a hint of resolve. “I want to return to being a sorcerer.”

The words hung in the air, sinking into you like lead. You stiffened, a sharp sting blooming in your chest as you processed his decision.

“Are you seriously considering this?” Your voice trembled with a mix of hurt and disbelief. “You know what that life entails. You’ve seen the consequences. Are you really willing to go back to that danger?”

Kento’s silence was heavier than any response he could have given. His arms, though still holding you close, seemed distant now, as if they were reaching out from across a chasm of uncertainty.

“I’ve thought it through,” he said finally, though his tone lacked the conviction he tried to project. “I need to do this for myself. I can’t keep pretending I’m satisfied with where I am.”

The last words echoed in your ears their weight sinking deep into your heart. “So you’re not satisfied with me?” you whispered, barely able to speak past the knot forming in your throat.

Kento’s eyes widened in shock. “No, that’s not what I meant—”

“Then what is it, Kento?” you demanded, frustration and hurt sharpening your words. “We have something good here. You have a good job. You left Jujustu High for a reason! What about Haibara—”

At the mention of Haibara, Kento’s face hardened. His eyes, which had been searching for the right words, now burned with anger and frustration. “Don’t.”

Your eyes widen at his tone. He sighs, trying to catch himself. “This…isn’t about him, or his fate. It’s about my own path, my own choices. You think I’m risking everything without knowing the cost?”

 “And what do you expect me to do, Kento?” Your voice cracked, raw emotion rising as you slid out of bed, unable to lie still any longer. “Sit at home and worry about you? Not knowing if you’re going to come back in one piece? I can’t live like that! I can’t live every day with the fear that you might not come back, that you might be hurt or worse?”

The silence that followed was suffocating. You paced the room, your emotions boiling over, while Kento sat still, his gaze following you but offering no solace.

“You’re asking me to accept a life where every day is a gamble with your safety!” You stopped, turning to face him, your chest heaving with emotion. “How am I supposed to do that? How am I supposed to pretend everything’s okay when the reality is that you might not come back to me? This isn’t just about you, Kento. It’s about us, our future!”

Kento ran a hand through his blond locks, frustration etched into every line of his face. “I’m not asking you to pretend it’s okay. I’m asking you to understand that this is something I need to do for myself, even if it means risking everything.”

You blinked, tears blurring your vision as his words sank in. “And what if everything we have is the cost?”

The question lingered, echoing in the space between you. Kento rose from the bed, standing tall before you, but the weight of the moment seemed to bow his shoulders.

He stepped closer, his hands trembling slightly as they cupped your face. His eyes, filled with a deep sadness, searched yours, looking for understanding that he knew might never come. “I love you,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “You need to know that.”

You shook your head, your voice breaking. “But that isn’t enough… is it? It never will be…”

There was a heavy silence between you, the weight of your words pressing down on both of you.

“I… can’t watch you throw your life away, Kento.”

He took a deep breath, the sound heavy with resignation. "Then… we’ve both made our decision."

His hands, which had held you with such tenderness, felt distant as you pulled away. You took a step back, a sob catching in your throat.

He opens his mouth, but no words come out with a trembling breath, he stepped forward and gently pulled you into his arms. The embrace was tender, filled with the weight of finality.

He buried his face in the curve of your neck, inhaling your scent one last time as if trying to imprint it into his memory. The warmth of his body, once a comfort, now felt like a dagger in your chest.

“I’m sorry.” he whispered, his voice strained. The words were barely audible, but the sentiment hung heavy in the air.

Kento lingered for a moment, his hand sliding from your back to gently cup your face. His thumb brushed away the tear you hadn’t realized had fallen, and his expression softened with a promise you weren’t sure either of you could believe.

“I’ll come back,” he whispered, his voice strained but resolute. “Somehow… I’ll find my way back to you. One day.”

You clung to him for a moment longer, feeling the ache of goodbye in every fiber of your being, before he slowly pulled away. Leaving you.

[tiny-wooden-robot-fics]

Magnolia - Chapter Fifteen

Rating: Explicit Media: Jujutsu Kaisen Pairing(s): Geto Suguru x Original Female Character, Geto Suguru x Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru x Gojo Satoru x Original Female Character Additional Tags: Vampire AU, Dark Themes, Attempted Suicide, Implied/Referenced Rape and Mutilation, Polyamory, Slow Burn, Smut

A/N: Tags will be added as chapters are updated. Please be mindful of the tags and warnings at the beginning of each chapter, as they will tell you what you need to know about the content within.

Minors, DNI.

Summary:

Sometimes she forgets.

Sometimes it slips her mind that Satoru and Suguru are not just ordinary men; that they are vampires, fueled by the consumption of blood and granted with superhuman strength and speed.

She remembers though, at times like this: when one second she is standing at the bottom of the stairs, looking at the two of them on the other side of the room… and the next second, in the blink of an eye, Satoru is standing right in front of her, his tall frame hovering over her and his presence filling all the space in her personal bubble.

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Chapter Warnings: Blood, references to hunting animals.

A/N: Look y'all, two in a row. Thanks for reading. :)

Chapter Fifteen: The Thirst of Infinite Desire

By now, she’s used to the strong, coppery scent of blood. 

She can smell it on them when they come back in. It lingers on their skin, on their clothes, in the air. 

It doesn’t bother her as much now. She’s grown accustomed to it, would even venture to say that it’s something she associates with those two.

It’s almost a comfort. 

“How was hunting?” She asks, watching Satoru brush his bangs off of his forehead as Suguru locks the door behind them. 

“Good,” Satoru tells her, casually. “You should come with us sometime.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Just for fun,” he answers. “It’d be like us going to the grocery store with you.”

It shouldn’t make her laugh - because she doesn’t think he means it as a joke - but she does anyway. “You’re ridiculous.”

Satoru shrugs. “This isn’t news.” 

Suguru watches the exchange silently, a fond smile curling his lips. 

Satoru crosses the room to where Lia is in just a few strides. “Are you planning on changing before we go out?”

Puzzled, Lia looks up at him. “Am I supposed to?”

Satoru’s expression gives away his answer before his mouth does. “I’m not going out with you when you’re wearing that.”

She can hear Suguru’s soft sigh, but he doesn’t say anything. In the eight months since the three of them have been cohabiting this house together, he has learned to let Lia fight her own Satoru battles. She’s gotten fairly good at knowing which ones she can win and which ones she can’t, and the ones she wins are usually the ones Suguru doesn’t interfere with. 

It’s quite pleasant for him, seeing how well she handles Satoru now that she’s comfortable with him. 

“Why not?” She asks, looking down at her clothes. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” 

“You look like a funeral director,” Satoru answers bluntly. “We’re going dancing, Lia… it’s not a wake.”

She’s only mildly offended; after all, she owns very few clothes that would be suitable for anything other than lounging around the house, and any argument to the contrary would fall flat in the face of Satoru’s inherent knack for knowing what’s stylish. 

This time, she heaves the soft sigh. “These are the fanciest clothes I own, Satoru. Besides, who’s going to be looking at me?”

“I am,” he says. He says it in such a matter-of-fact way. He casts a glance over his shoulder at Suguru. “I swear, you’re two of the prettiest people I’ve ever met, but without me you’d both probably live in hoodies and sweats.”

“I personally don’t see anything wrong with living in hoodies and sweats,” Suguru interjects. 

“Just… Wait here.” That's all Satoru says before he disappears upstairs, and Lia and Suguru are left to share a quizzical glance.

They aren’t left wondering for long; Satoru returns shortly with his arms full of hangers. There are clothes draped on each of the hangers, and Lia watches curiously as he lays those clothes flat on the coffee table. “The sizing might be slightly off on some of these, but that isn’t my fault,” he starts. “It’s hard to gauge your shape when you’re always wearing baggy shit.”

Her brow furrows as she looks at the clothes. “What are these?”

“Dresses I bought for you,” Satoru says, as though it’s the most natural thing in the world for him to have done. “So pick one you like and put it on so I can see it.”

Just for a split second, she considers refusing his request. But one look at the dresses and she realizes that she doesn’t actually want to refuse. After all, Satoru knows fashion. If he thinks she’ll look good in one (or all) of them, the chances are that he’s right. 

“Fine,” she concedes with another sigh. 

“Good girl.”

--

And once the thirst of infinite desire Possessed me like a fever, and I said, “I want to feel all radiance, fragrance, fire And joy of life within me, to inspire My soul forever!” And the faerie maid Called me to follow her, and when she spoke It was as if a harp to the soft stroke Of loving hands had wakened suddenly: She syllabled hope’s language, calling me. -Ruben Dario, Autumnal (excerpt)

--

She chooses the shimmery blue one, telling herself that it’s because of the way the color compliments her skin and not because it reminds her of Satoru’s eyes. 

“Well damn,” he says, when she descends the stairs. He looks over his shoulder at Suguru, who is leaning against the kitchen door jamb. “Am I good, or what?” He looks back at Lia. “So… you chose the blue one, huh?”

Well. She should have known better than to think he wouldn’t notice. “It goes well with my skin tone,” she offers. 

“Mmhm.” He gives her a knowing look, and Suguru stifles a snort. It makes her face flush; neither of these men are stupid.

“Anyway, shouldn’t the two of you be getting ready?” She points out, redirecting the conversation and staving off the chance for any follow-up questions about why she chose the color she chose. “If I can’t go dressed like a funeral director, you’re not allowed to go covered in the scent of blood.”

Sometimes she forgets. 

Sometimes it slips her mind that Satoru and Suguru are not just ordinary men; that they are vampires, fueled by the consumption of blood and granted with superhuman strength and speed. 

She remembers though, at times like this: when one second she is standing at the bottom of the stairs, looking at the two of them on the other side of the room… and the next second, in the blink of an eye, Satoru is standing right in front of her, his tall frame hovering over her and his presence filling all the space in her personal bubble. 

“What, you don’t like the scent of blood?” He’s grinning at her, hands braced on either side of the bannister rails, his arms caging her in. She is used to this, him being so close. It’s just the way Satoru is… invading personal space, comfortable with casual touching, his presence always slightly intruding. 

Before, it would have bothered her.

But now, it makes those things she feels harder to ignore. He’s close enough for her to smell the aforementioned scent of blood, but beneath it there is also the unmistakable scent of him… a scent she has become familiar with, a scent that sparks something in her that is dangerously close to the feeling she knows as desire. 

Satoru knows it, and he’s aware that she knows it, too.

Suguru watches the exchange from his place in the kitchen doorway. He’s no stranger to the effect that Satoru has on people, men and women alike. Satoru is magnetic, charismatic, and appealing. Suguru has watched something develop between those two for the past eight months, something that started as a tiny bud and has blossomed over time into a bigger, more noticeable bouquet of feelings.

Lia looks up, up, up at Satoru’s face. She marvels once more at how the fabric of the dress she chose really does perfectly match the blue of his eyes. Absently she wonders why she isn’t surprised at what she sees in those eyes of his, why it doesn’t make her want to run to her bedroom and bury herself under the covers, out of his sight. “I didn’t say I didn’t like it,” she says quietly, catching her bottom lip in her teeth.

Satoru’s line of sight follows the movement, his gaze falling on her mouth. “So you do like it?” He asks, his voice low.

He isn’t even touching her, but his gaze holds so much weight that it almost feels like a physical caress. It drives all coherent thought out of her head and warms something low in the pit of her stomach… loosens her tongue and her inhibitions. She wonders if he possesses some sort of magic, or if it is just him being him that makes her feel this way. “Only on you.”

Her response seems to please him. “Hm,” he murmurs thoughtfully, leaning back slightly without lowering his arms. “I’ll have to keep that in mind,” he adds after a moment. He reaches out, flashing her a grin and running his thumb along her bottom lip before moving past her to ascend the stairs. “Suguru,” he calls over his shoulder before disappearing into the bedroom, “we should get ready… our princess has been waiting for us long enough, don’t you think?”

Our princess? She looks at Suguru. He crosses the room at a leisurely pace, his smile gentle as he reaches the bottom of the stairs. “I would ask you if you’re surprised,” he starts, “but you’re not… are you?”

Even with him speaking so vaguely, Lia knows what he means. “No, not really,” she admits. “His face doesn’t really hide anything.”

It makes him laugh. “It doesn’t,” he agrees. Sobering up, he looks closely at her. “And what about you?”

Once again, she knows him well enough to know what he’s asking without him having to say it directly. “Would it bother you if… if I told you it was something I’ve been wanting for a while now?”

He laughs again. “Why would it? I didn’t want you to think we weren’t interested, but I haven’t asked you because I figured you’d want some time to figure out if it was something you wanted.” He shakes his head, still smiling. “But to hear you say it now? Well… I can’t deny that it makes me happy.” 

With that, he moves past her. “We’ll be ready before long, Princess,” he laughs, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

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Chapter Sixteen: Coming Soon

Tag list: @therealestpussyeater

[omitea]

𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐒𝐔𝐂𝐂𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐅𝐔𝐋

char. g. suguru x fem! reader.

tags. you and geto figure ur feelings out. only fluff for geto <3 he has suffered enough (not). highschool setting.

note. here u go bb @satorisoup i hope u enjoy my love <3 i tried my best…. idk if its proofread good enough.

“im sure he feels the same,” shoko exhaled. a cloud of smoke leaving her parted lips. “you’ve been pretty obvious, love” she finished and stepped on what was left of her cigarette.

this was probably the third time this week that you’ve rant to shoko about a certain problem that was occupying your mind. or a certain someone. geto suguru. he was intriguing to say the least.

maybe it was the boyish smile he wore on his face whenever he was with his two best friends. or the way his pretty face was on display whenever he wore his hair in a messy bun. you don’t know what it was, but it for sure left you kinda desperate to learn more about him.

you huffed out a short breath and shook your head. “not obvious enough when he doesn’t even talk to me.” he barely even looks your way whenever you two cross paths. “maybe this is all a waste of time…”

shoko opened her mouth to speak up, but was abruptly interrupted by an obnoxious voice calling out to her. “just the person i was looking for,” he smiled. almost too bright as he looked over his glasses.

along side the white haired boy stood his friend, almost uncomfortably standing on his own two feet. shoko leaned and whispered something incoherent in your ear before leaving with gojo— who sent a wink your way.

leaving you alone…with him. you should have known. you should have suspected something was up the moment she called you out of the blue.

the bubble of silence that engulfed you two was louder than the volume you kept your tv at, louder than the speaker that played music in your dorm when you and shoko were painting each other’s nails. fuck it, maybe even louder than your heartbeat at this moment.

oh, im so killing her after this, you thought.

what felt like slow painful minutes, soon came to an hold when suguru finally cleared his throat. this caused you to snap out of your thoughts.

“were you also forced to come out here?” you could only hum at the question— not trusting your voice to say something in return. you heard shuffling behind you and soon enough, a comforting smell of cologne wafted swiftly through your nose. almost inhaling the scent.

he was close. standing next to you. leaning on the exact same railing. but he made sure to keep a decent amount of space between you, incase you felt uncomfortable at the proximity.

“you could just leave you know,” you sighed. fingers tapping at the railing and the familiar anxious feeling bubbling inside the pit of your stomach. your eyes slightly widened at the words that left your mouth, mentally cursing at yourself for not thinking twice about said words.

a deep rumble came from out of his chest. more like a chuckle. what surprised you more, was the heartwarming smile he shot your way. eyes closed and teeth slightly showing. if your heart didn’t skip a beat before, it definitely skipped more than a hundred beats now.

“that’s not what you want, right?,” what was meant to be a question, sounded more like a statement. you let out a shuddered breath, “i don’t know what you mean by that, geto.”

the space that kept you apart, felt dramatically smaller in a blink of an eye. “i don’t recall telling you who i am, though.” he grinned. if it weren’t for the railing, your knees would’ve given up already. there was nothing you hoped for other than a curse that would swallow you whole and make you disappear.

“i heard shoko calling your name once or twice on campus,” you lied through your teeth. anything to help end this conversation sooner. he was quiet for a moment, probably contemplating whether he should believe you or not. but he goes for the latter.

“so it definitely isn’t related to the conversation you just had with shoko?”

your breath hitched and you pulled yourself away from the railing. “has no one ever told you it’s rude to eavesdrop?”

and there was that smile again. you did like his smile, but you would also pretty much like to wipe it off his face right now. “we should get to know each other better, don’t you think?” he questioned back. completely ignoring the one that was sent his way.

you stood there dumbfounded, eyebrow raised. “why’s that?.” you internally cringed a little at yourself for playing dumb. if anything, you would probably be jumping in his arms right now if you were extremely desperate.

“what if i told you i feel the same, hmm?,” he said, voice coming out almost in a form of a whisper. his eyes briefly traveled towards your gloss covered lips before they met your wide eyes.

those exact same eyes he saw a few times when walking around with gojo. the exact same eyes that filled with excitement whenever you spotted your favorite insect. or when you finally got a chance to sit under the beautiful cherry blossom trees to relax your busy mind.

it was hard to avoid you. wanting nothing more than to make his way up to you and introduce himself. but all he did, was ask shoko about you. admiring from afar. he wasn’t like his best friend, gojo satoru. the one who always had some girl drooling over him. so he made assumptions that led to him believing that maybe the quick glances weren’t meant for him— but for his best friend.

but those thoughts were erased once his friend dragged him out. just on time to hear you rant frustratedly to shoko. which finally gave him the boost to talk to you for the first time.

“would that make this whole situation make sense?,” he swallowed. “i didn’t have the courage before, but now i do.” your eyes searched his for any reason to joke about something like this, but fortunately found none.

“so tell me if this is a waste of time so i can leave you alone…,” his voice trailed off. suguru didn’t show it, but his heart rate was picking up and his hands slightly shook out of nervousness. he didn’t know if it was the sun that was making him burn up, or the anticipation— which was making it harder for him to breathe.

“yes,” you mustered up to break the silence that consumed you for the second time. his brows slightly furrowed, but you didn’t bother to give him a chance to speak.

“yes. i would be happy to get to know you better, geto.” you smiled. it didn’t matter if it took months of silently admiring, or weeks of sleepless nights. it all worked out in the end.

and so it did for the two heads that were peeking around at the corner of the hall— giving each other a fist bump for their successful mission.

©𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐀. please refrain from stealing my works !

[physicalturian]

[18+] Goodbye Head - Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader

[She/Her pronouns used for the reader, no physical description; Everyone +18] [No spoilers from the anime or the manga]

Words : 5162

Archive of our own

Tags : Cheating / Cunnilingus / Light bondage / NSFW / Power Play / Choking / Hair-Pulling / Vaginal sex

If you think I should add some tags, tell me!

Summary : Gojo is the worst boyfriend, after one too many time he forgets to come at one of your evening together: you've had enough. Nanami is here to help with what Gojo has been lacking your entire relationship : nice sex, maturity and not being a bitch.

---

Putting my phone away, I rested my elbows on the counter and exhaled, frustrated, “He’s going to be late,” I said. As I took the glass of wine Nanami was handing me, he added, “Again,”. As much as I was disappointed that my boyfriend was missing on our time together, I laughed at Nanami’s remark. He was right, but what else could I do? Cry about it? Not for him, no.

There was no reason to make a big deal out of it, it wasn’t unusual for him to get delayed on our free nights together, a few other times he wouldn’t even come. At this point, I was more surprised to have him there at all, than to receive his messages filled with “sorry’s” and “it won’t happen again”, hours after he was supposed to pick me up or meet me. Even tonight, Nanami had to come pick me up since my boyfriend wasn’t there on time and had borrowed my car.

Raising my glass towards Nanami, he mirrored it a moment before taking a sip and focusing back on the pan in front of him as he cooked, “Well, it’s you and me once again,” I scoffed with a smile, that I tried hard to keep up and not let it get to me. Twirling the glass in my hand, I got lost in the dark red liquid, thinking of what to do next. The efforts I was putting into this relationship were not reciprocated at all, I was giving more than receiving, and I was past the point of getting disappointed.

“Something on your mind?” Nanami’s voice brought me back to earth and I straightened my back with a nervous laugh. I looked at him, then at my drink, then at him again, then chugged the wine down and said, in one breath, “You know what? Yeah, did you know that when he fucks me, he says ‘Get out, get out’? Like- what’s that about? The bitch just got in, it doesn’t make sense,” Nanami quirked a brow, the smallest of smiles on his face. Wiping his hands on his apron, he rolled up his sleeves a bit higher before putting the pastas in the water. “Are you sure that’s what he’s saying?” His tone made it seem like he had a suggestion.

Frowning, I asked him to go on. “Maybe he’s saying Geto, it’s a bit closer and I know they were close… I think they’re still friends,” He trailed off, walking around the kitchen to get some spices and adding them to the pan, all while talking. I had to give it a thought a moment, weighing his words. Could it be? He never really explained why he went out, I always thought it was sorcerer business and did not give it more mind. But now that Nanami mentioned it, it made sense. I waited for him to put the wine bottle on the counter then took it by the neck and chugged a few gulps before chuckling.

“You’re saying he’s cheating on me with the hipster dude?” I scoffed dryly, drinking some more, my grip on the bottle tightening. “We’re not sure though… Right?” I argued, more to myself than to Nanami, trying to convince myself. I don’t know why I was willing to give him a chance, I knew the moment I got together with him he wasn’t the settling type. Twirling the base of the bottle on the counter, I was thinking, should I break it off now or wait until we’re home, and until we’ve talked… “I don’t think he’s worth you getting sad over him, if that’s what’s going on,” I heard Nanami real close to me as he gently took the bottle from my hand and took a sip too. Less desperate than mine.

Smacking my lips together, I sucked in my teeth and turned around, looking at Nanami with a determined expression. This was the straw that broke the camel’s back, “You’re right, he’s shit. He doesn’t even fuck that well,” I huffed, hopping on the counter while Nanami stirred the pastas.

“Is that so? He prides himself in that, if he hears you say that he’ll probably break down,” “There is no pride in being the worst,” I spat. That’s when I felt like ruining this man, or at least his credibility in that department. Giving Nanami a look, I took a deep breath and started listing, raising a finger at each thing, “He only fucks me from behind, I’ve never seen this man’s face during sex. Oh! And he says the condom doesn’t feel good, well sorry you think your raw-fucking feels good?” I paused when Nanami handed me my glass, he had filled it up and was smiling, chuckling slightly too as he nodded for me to follow him so that we could talk on the couch.

Doing so, I got off the counter and followed him, making sure not to spill my drink when I jumped. I had to force myself not to look at the blonde man’s back, finding a sudden appeal to his entire person. Ignoring my train of thought, I slumped on the sofa and felt bad for blurting out those facts about him, so I apologized to Nanami with a short laugh, “It’s just, I was willing to let it slide because I think I loved him, or something? But the more I think of it, the more I realize I let too much shit slide, you know? Sure, I can let him and his weird texting habits, be. He would either text way too much, needy for attention or would completely disappear off the face of earth without a warning,” I huffed.

I couldn’t believe I was telling Nanami all that, it wasn’t his problem and yet he was listening, willingly, not making weird faces or mocking my situation. “You are talking about it in the past already,” He noticed.

Laughing breathlessly, I nodded, “I guess I am… Maybe I’ve already made a decision, but I won’t rush it…” I trailed off, silence setting between the sorcerer and me. I couldn’t keep it like that, so I took a sharp intake of breath and continued, “Can I still rant just a tiny bit more?” The man in front of me nodded, telling me to go on. “I don’t think the man has had sex education classes,” I stated, making Nanami laugh shortly in his drink before having him ask what I meant by that.

“Except for the fact that he didn’t want to wear a condom, ever, he also didn’t seem versed in foreplay… he would just… Fuck and groan loudly, finishing super quickly,” I said, still not believing I was telling him that. Extending my hand in front of me, I gestured for him to pause as I had seen he was going to talk, “No, you know what? I’ll say it, it’s the truth so I’ll say it,” Nanami frowned at first before quirking a brow, intrigued.

“I was his personal fleshlight, that’s it, that’s what it was,” I gestured that I was done, giving him the floor so to speak. The man in front of me had to put his drink down before opening his mouth, a slight frown on his forehead, “It couldn’t be all that bad, he helped you finish, right?” He asked, probably to give Gojo at least some credits. Although from the look in his eyes, he was expecting the answer I gave him, albeit less loudly.

A loud cackle left my mouth, “Him? No, no, I don’t remember him doing that, ever. It’s alright though, I probably took too long for him,” I shrugged, tending to my drink, once again starting to get lost in it. The more I thought of it, the more it made sense. He was probably imagining someone else the entire time, I was played for a fool. “Shouldn’t have sucked him off either, since he never returned the favor,” I grumbled, suddenly feeling bitter as I drank some more.

“So, he’s garbage,” Nanami said, bringing the glass to his lips. I watched his every move, finding the man had some charm, some grace, he was poised and mature. Everything Gojo wasn’t. A strand of hair was falling from his perfectly slicked back hair, but it didn’t make it disheveled, no, it was a controlled mess. When he swallowed, it brought my attention to his throat, free from the tie that minutes ago was restraining it. It was still around the collar of his shirt, only now it was loose, along with two buttons undone.

I was ripped out of my daydream when I heard my name being called. Blinking, I looked up and stared at Nanami, confused. “I asked you a question,” he said.

“Right, uh… Sorry, I got lost in… my thoughts,” I gestured at nothing, “Sadness and all that jazz, you know?” I joked, gulping down more wine and made a rewinding gesture, this time, “Could you repeat?”

The blonde hummed. A sound that sent something coursing through my body, something I didn’t think I would get from him. “I asked what you were going to do about him,”

“Break up. Even if he isn’t cheating, I’ve come to the realization he ain’t the shit, you know?” He nodded, a pensive expression on his face. The man seemed deep in thought, and since he wasn’t talking, it gave me time to enjoy the view a bit more. He leaned forward once more to set his glass down, which gave me the most exquisite view of his back muscles and his ass, but I didn’t comment.

“He never made you cum, then.” Nanami stated, more than asked. I stammered, my cheeks heating up quickly. He wasn’t wrong, and we had been on the topic for a moment… But he said it so crudely, I was caught off guard, yet I found myself nodding at first, before replying, “Which isn’t like, a big deal or anything, he’d leave the room to get cleaned up, shower, I’d finish with anything. Or not, depending on how lazy I would be. I don’t get my hopes up anymore, really,” “And how long have you been together?”

“Don’t know, a few months?” I replied quickly but confused.

Nanami looked me up and down, asking another question, “And before that, how long had you been single?” I don’t know why I laughed timidly, so I brought the glass to my lips to hide it before finishing my drink and putting the glass down next to Nanami’s. It felt like an interview with all the questions he was shooting at me, yet I replied, “A while, I don’t remember- why all the questions?”

“It’s been a while then, since you’ve been properly eaten out,” He ignored my question and continued, making me smile in surprise, my eyes wide. I was silent for a moment, considering my answer, or if I should even answer, it all happened quickly, and my first words were, “Kento!” I exclaimed under my breath in an overdramatic tone. He did not budge, and said in what could have been described for playful, at least for him, “Is that a yes?”

“I mean… yeah, yes it’s been a while, but I don’t see why that’s any of your concern,” I said lightly, suddenly aware of the distance between us that was close to none. His knee was brushing against mine, and slowly as he spoke, his hand brushed over my knee, “I want to get those hopes up again, along with those legs,” There was the faintest hint of a smirk on his lips, but it was mostly a serious suggestion that did not displease me, if anything I was feeling excited. He had a way with words that left me speechless, unlike my boyfriend who I tried to tune out most of the time.

Fuck it says a lot about our relationship, doesn’t it? Coming to that realization, I held Nanami’s gaze with mine, looking down at his lips a few times before locking my eyes on his once more. “If you want to, then yes, I’d definitely take you up on that… offer… But don’t feel like you need to do it-“ I was thrown off balance when Nanami brought my legs on his and made me fall on my back. I was quick to support my weight on my elbows to look at him, flustered. “I don’t feel obligated, I want to do this. I’ve been picturing you naked for so long, forgive me for the eagerness,” He breathed as he moved to position himself properly between my legs.

I matched his eagerness in unbuttoning my pants, letting him pull them down, “Don’t apologize, I like the fervor, it’s flattering,” I told him with a bit of shyness in my voice. The blonde got rid of my pants, throwing them behind him before focusing back on me. He paused a moment, taking a good look, making me slightly self-conscious but I didn’t voice it. It quickly dissipated when his hands gripped my thighs semi-tightly, rubbing them affectionately. “I’ll give you all the flattery you deserve,” He whispered, leaning in for a kiss but stopping just before our lips could meet. “Do you want to make him jealous?”

I was holding my breath in expectation when I said, “I’m not really the type…” he chuckled and kissed me softly, shortly, pulling back after a moment. “Are you sure?” He slowly moved lower, raising my shirt to press a kiss on my stomach, I let out a shaky breath and tried to pull him back up by his tie, “Maybe I do,” It earned me a grunt from the man, but he let me guide him up. He kissed me once more, this time while removing his tie, “Let’s keep those wandering hands off for now,” With a smile he took hold of my hands and wrapped his tie around it, not too tightly but enough to immobilize them for now.

Reaching for my pants, he took my phone and slid it in my hands, making sure I was holding it when he let go and said, “Send him a picture of us whenever you’d like, if he’s not too stupid he’ll understand,” I couldn’t help the laugh that escaped my lips, but quickly my cheeks heat up when Nanami paused and looked at me longer than necessary, a genuine smile on his lips this time. “Alright, get at it now, stop staring at me,” I huffed, unlocking my phone with my thumb which was the best I could do right now.

Nanami pushed my phone down, while I was still holding it, and made me look at him as he crawled up once more, “Ask politely,” he breathed against my lips before kissing them. I returned the kiss with a lot more passion, gasping in the kiss when his fingers slid inside my underwear and pressed between my legs, curling his fingers ever so lightly. He didn’t have to ask twice, I was the one to break the kiss breathlessly, already too impatient from just his promise, “Please, Kento,” I tried to grab the buckle of his belt with the tip of my fingers, he was faster to pull back with a dark laugh.

“And to think Gojo hasn’t been giving you all his attention, what a grave mistake,” He trailed off, I hooked one of my legs on his shoulder while he took my underwear off, throwing it on the ground with my pants. When I was fully open for him, he helped me hook my other leg on his shoulder and leaned in, his mouth closer to my fold, “Kento, stop wasting time, just…” I held back from asking him to fuck me, because he was not going to, not tonight, or at least not right now, “Please…” I pleaded.

“Fuck you look so good like this, legs spread wide, begging for my tongue,” Before he latched his lips on my sex, he said, “Be good and show me how good you’re feeling,” then dragged his tongue slowly, from my entrance where I felt his muscle prod, to my clit, with more pressure he flicked his tongue a few times, making me swear under my breath in surprise. I took the opportunity to take a photo of him from that very angle, his gaze locked on mine and not on the camera. Nanami stopped and pressed a kiss on my inner thigh. “Go ahead, send him, you won’t be able to focus much once I’ve started,” His words made me hurry in my writing.

I was quick to send the picture to my boyfriend, along with a message reading “Slumber party 😊” then I locked the screen and let my phone fall on the pile of clothes on the ground. “Don’t worry, I made you look good with the angle,” I joked. I don’t know why I did that, but I felt the need to lighten the mood. Nanami did not care, “Of course I’d look good, your legs around my neck are quite the accessory,” I could feel my core pulsing simply by his words, he hadn’t said much but the charisma rolling off him turned me on more than I was ready to admit.

Without losing more time, Nanami dived once again between my legs. This time, he wasn’t holding my legs anymore, one hand was grabbing my ass while the other spread my lower lips as he dragged his tongue through my fold. It was slow and delicate at first, I was arching my back at the pleasure it was giving me, but I was not nearly as close as I wanted to be. After a few minutes, the pace increased, his lips around my clit were doing more than licking, they were sucking, blowing, biting, the latter having brought a deep grunt as I moaned “More,” before covering my mouth with my tied hands.

He was playing me like an instrument. Upon hearing my plea, Nanami looked up with a smirk, he was enjoying the way my cheeks burned up from begging, the humiliation, the submission, he was relishing in it. Seeing me writhing under him seemed to make him go wild, and yet he did not seem content yet, he wanted to make me beg more. He returned to his task, his tongue lapping at my sex while groaning in pleasure too, it was a lot more stimulating, and when I felt his hand let go of my leg, I held my breath, letting out a controlled whine when he slid two fingers inside me.

When he started thrusting them in and out, I moaned in my hands, covering the lascivious sounds that were escaping my mouth. I was very much aware of how loud I was being, and I was trying to keep it down as much as possible, I had been told many times to keep it down by my boyfriend and had taken the habits of doing just that. That’s when Nanami surprised me and paused everything, his free hand gripping my thigh with force to keep them from closing on him. “Breathe, move your hand from your mouth and let me hear you,”

When I took too long to obey him, he gently moved my bound hands from my mouth, I let out a shallow breath, “There,” He breathed, smiling down at me for letting him do as he pleased, “A lot better already, let’s see how good you sound now,” My eyes darted to his lips, it made him smile knowingly. He let me grab his shirt with my tied hands, but did not comply when I pulled him closer, instead he curled his fingers inside me, elating a weak gasp, “Oh that does sound better, I think you can do even more,” “Kento…” I whispered, wanting more of his touch, more than just his fingers but also the closeness of his body against mine, his lips…

Humming, he thrusted his fingers deeper all the while looking at me with a satisfied smile, “My name rolls of your tongue so beautifully, but if you want something you have to ask for it, I’m not a mind reader,” I rolled my eyes, knowing full well that he knew what I wanted, but he cut my attitude down to the root when he rubbed his thumb over my clit along with thrusting his fingers inside me. I moaned his name in surprise but didn’t stop as he kept his thrusts at a fast pace. “That’s it, you’re being so loud for me, you’re being so good,” He showered me with praise at each sound that left my throat in pleasure.

Hearing him say those things had an effect on me, it was almost electrifying how good it felt, the feeling went straight to my core. He must have felt my walls clench around his fingers since he leaned closer, his free hand traveling the length of my body to gently settle on my chin, “God, look at you-“ “Please kiss me, please- fuck,” Arching my back, I felt his fingers hit the perfect spot and it made me cry in pleasure, my eyes closing in pure bliss. That cry was muffled when Nanami’s lips crashed hungrily against mine, his fingers thrusting faster and faster inside my aching sex.

I was getting closer to relief when suddenly everything stopped and Nanami leaned back, out of breath and grinning while I let out a humiliating whine. “You’re such a good girl for me, just from my fingers…” He said as he pulled his fingers out of me, and moved down once more, both of his hands holding my thighs with a painful hold… A painfully pleasurable hold. I was fully aware of each of his touch, of his stroke on my body, on my burning skin, and yet, I felt like his touches were hotter than my skin, it sent shivers down my spine at each graze, each grasp.

Giving a tentative lick in the length of my sex, he said smugly, “I’ll have you cum on my face or not at all, now be good and be loud for me, we have a spectator,” He showed me his phone where Gojo’s name was displayed, Nanami mouthed ‘voicemail’ then started fucking me his tongue, I quickly called out his name in despair, making him look up, my slick running down his chin. “Can I?” I motioned my hands to his hair, “Don’t be shy, give it a push,” He cooed me, and I did exactly that.

I pushed his face between my legs and felt the vibration of his groan against my clit, pressure started building inside me once again. My mouth fell open, sounds of pleasure pouring out of my mouth as I gripped the blonde’s hair with more force, our moans were basking the room, definitely giving a show to the asshole who was going to hear it soon enough. Sucking my swollen nub, Nanami made the most sinful sounds, getting me so high on pleasure with his ministrations that I heard a sob escape my lips. Lust was clouding my senses, my head rolled back as a shiver ran through my whole body, my heels digging inside Nanami’s back while I arched my back.

His name escaped my mouth over and over again, at each press of his tongue against my clit, each time he’d drag his tongue along my fold, I was rocking my hips against his mouth for more. It only took his hands around my hips, pulling them towards his mouth for a better access, for me to let out another high-pitched cry of pleasure. The knot inside me snapped, utter bliss flooded my body as I felt the tension leave my body and my muscles relaxed, legs going limp around Nanami’s shoulders. I felt him give one last lick before gently removing my hands from his hair and lifting his head to hang up the phone.

When his eyes set on mine, he frowned, “Are you alright?” with care, he untied my wrists. It wasn’t as tight as it could have been, which meant it did not leave a mark, nor did it leave pain, something I was grateful for. “I’m more than fine, thank you for this…” With a short laugh, I tried to sit up, but Nanami held me down just a bit longer as he used his tie to get me cleaned up. I went to stop him, in vain when the man just looked at me while slithering his hand between my legs once more. “It’s gross, I could have gotten a towel or something…” I trailed off as I finally sat up, my thighs already a bit sore.

“Gross? You gave me the most enjoyable display that led to this, gross wouldn’t be the word I’d use to describe it. A treat, perhaps, a gift even, but not gross.” Flattered by his words I felt bad when I pointed at his dirty tie, “I meant… to use your tie for it,” Looking down at his hand, he did not react as he added, “It was going to go to the washing machine anyway,” He shrugged as he dropped it on the low table while leaning over to hand me my clothes. Thanking him, I saw his chin was still glistening with my cum, I quite enjoyed the sight but pointed at my own chin, for him to mirror, “You got something right there,”

Quirking a brow, he gave me a mischievous smile, “Is that so?” He asked, tilting his head to get closer to me, he looked down at me, the smile never leaving his face, “It’s your mess, clean it,”

Surprised, I stared at him a moment then let my eyes travel down to his chin, my breath hitched. If it had been anyone else, I would have stood up and told him to do it himself, but there was something with Nanami Kento that made my knees weak. So weak I could let them drop to the ground and take care of him in ways he’s never been taken care of. Instead, my mouth opened barely, my hand reached for his chin and placed itself under it. I approached my lips and stuck my tongue out then licked him tentatively, he wrapped his hand around my neck, holding it lightly. “Give me more enthusiasm,”

“Be grateful I’m doing it at all,” I breathed against his skin, tracing my tongue over his jaw. He chuckled in response, the side of his fingers digging in the side of my neck barely. “With how thorough you’re being, I’d say you’re enjoying it a lot more than you’re admitting it,” He grunted against my ear, stopping my actions. I pushed against his hand and pressed kisses down his jaw, when I tried to push him down, he tutted me, “Let’s eat first-“ he got interrupted by his phone’s constant ‘dings’, making him sigh as we both look at it and saw Gojo’s spam.

“Seems like he listened to our little message,” Nanami said, a little too happily. I let out the loudest annoyed groan when the blonde opened the conversation, he tilted the phone for me to see too. It made me laugh how he had left him on read the last message he sent, before the spam.

Satoru Gojo: ???

Satoru Gojo: what??

Satoru Gojo: what’s going on??

Satoru Gojo: Hello????

Satoru Gojo: Nanamin??

Satoru Gojo: Hi? :))

Satoru Gojo: don’t be like that, answer me

He was still typing when Nanami slowly typed back,

You: I gave your girlfriend cunnilingus on my couch.

Satoru Gojo: I GET THAT

Satoru Gojo: but like

Satoru Gojo: can I see??

Satoru Gojo: was she crying?

Satoru Gojo: why was she crying?

You: Because I made her cum. She was very polite about it, the way she asked to grip my hair…

I face Nanami quickly, my face flushed. “Don’t- there is no need to share that? He doesn’t deserve it” I breathed in panic. “Let’s say, it’s a goodbye gift, for him. To see what he lost,” Nanami said calmly.

Satoru Gojo: deadass?

Satoru Gojo: i did too

“He never did, but it’s fun he thinks he did. That means I fake well,” I said mockingly. Nanami placed his hand on my thigh and rubbed it gently, casually going higher and higher as he waited for Gojo’s texts. “What you gave me was not fake, I know what to expect now. You better not fake with me or you’ll pay the price, understood?”

My eyes widened, I scoffed jokingly but felt my arousal was very present from his words. “As long as you’re good, I won’t feel the need to fake,” I shrugged. He laughed genuinely, his hand sliding to my hip then to my lower back, “This is going to be fun,”

Satoru Gojo: she never cried tho

Satoru Gojo: do it again

Satoru Gojo: nanamin?

Satoru Gojo: hey, make her cum again

Satoru Gojo: Nams? Nanamin??

Nanami locked his phone, leaving the sorcerer on read, and turned to look at me, “That’s enough Gojo Satoru for one day, let’s see if the penny drops when he’s alone with his thoughts,”

“Right, I don’t think he realizes I’m breaking up with him, it sounds promising…” I mumbled, looking up at the blond man next to me when I felt him press gently my side, “Let’s eat first, then clear things up with him, but I have a few things to do before we talk to him once more,” the man said as he stood up, extending his hand to help me stand up. Taking his hand in mine, I let him guide me to the kitchen where he turned the stove on once more.

“As I said, first we eat, then…” He let go of my hand and stepped very close to me, leaning in, his lips grazed the shell of my ear, “Then I’ll fuck you senseless. Maybe I’ll start by fucking you in front of that glass over there,” he turned my head delicately, making me look at the bay window behind us, his open mouth trailed down my neck, barely touching my skin, “I want to show everyone how good you look when you take my cock-“ Before he finished his sentence, I hurried my hands to the buttons of his shirt. “I’m not waiting until we eat-“

Laughing, he gripped my hands tight and made me let go, “Oh, you are. You’re going to be a good girl and take it when I give it, understood? Or… you can beg, see if I care,” He trailed off, walking off to the fridge.

Looking at him, I already knew the evening was going to be long. But fuck, it sounded promising. I was not against begging, not if it was him.

[sirthisisa-wendys]

The General (Part 2): Geto Suguru x Fem!Reader

synopsis: Imperial life sounds nice on paper... but will it ever live up to reality? (the answer is always no).

wc: 2.2k

tw: none (again, backstory. I’m SORRY! The lemon-y stuff will begin in the next part)

masterlist

“There was this patch of mud I was sure we’d be able to get through...” 

You’re sitting across from the Imperial Warrior and watching him scarf down your mother’s cooking, noting his ravenous appetite and the way he waves his hands around as he details how his horse is trapped in the mud from the storm that followed him here, and how he longed for death until he happened to find himself at your door, blah, blah, blah…

Your father and mother entertain him eagerly, nodding their heads and humming at his story, but you’re not having any of it. You just want to know what’s in the letter with the Imperial Seal on it so he can go and you can return to your mourning in peace. The letter is sitting with your father, untouched and forgotten while the man drones on and on. 

There’s something about how he’s going on about his horse that’s stuck in the mud that bothers you; there are too many intricate details and he’s--

“I’m sorry, I don't think we caught your name,” you interrupt, and the white haired man stops mid-sentence, a long silence echoing in the room. 

“Gojo,” he announces, holding his hand to his chest. “You can call me Gojo.” 

“And Gojo, you say your horse is stuck outside? We should help you go and retrieve it.” 

“Oh, no need, I was about to say that the lovely townsfolk helped me out with my situation. It’s in a stable as we speak.” 

You eye the confident man with some skepticism, then look over to the letter with intent. “And the letter?” 

“Ah! I almost forgot.” He motions for your father to open the letter, and when your father breaks the seal and slides out the paper, you angle your head to read the words scripted across the paper. You and your father read at the same pace, because your faces drop at the same time. 

“The Imperial Matchmaker?” The image of the wizened young woman dances before your eyes, and you blink twice, dismissing the improbability that her visit to your village just six months ago had anything to do with you or your family. She hadn’t even spoken to you, let alone laid eyes on you. How in the world--

“My story was to conclude with why she was not picked this time. I regret that I was not on time to come and retrieve you, my lady.” When Gojo holds a hand to his chest again, you feel some sort of sincerity from him. “You see, there are three princes of--”

“But aren’t there more illustrious ladies of the Court that might suit their needs?” you ask, squinting your eyes. There’s absolutely no way you were destined to wed a Prince of the Imperial Court. 

“What the Matchmaker has ordered will go as planned,” your mother announces, shooting up from her seat and hurrying from the table toward your room. Your father follows her, letter still in hand, leaving you alone with the white-haired warrior. You look over at him in disbelief, raising a brow in challenge to speak. 

“I assume you had an eventful day,” he begins, picking at the rest of his food thoughtfully. “You should go and rest. We leave at first light.” 

_______________________________________________________________________

Your mother, fussing over you as always, is crying as you wait for the horse and carriage to be brought from the town’s stables. Your father had neglected to come out of the house to see you off, even though you knew he loved you just as much as your mother. Perhaps seeing his last daughter off was even more painful than the other three had been. 

You can’t help but feel somewhat uneasy at the thought of being thrust into marriage to someone who ranked so much higher than you. Would you even get accustomed to court life in time? Would you feel at ease among the nobility of the land? Or would you be a wife who was shunned and set aside, only to be pulled out and bred occasionally? The thought isn’t even complete when the horse and carriage parade through the gates, the white haired man reappearing. 

“Oh...” Your mother breaks into a fresh set of tears, knowing wherever that carriage goes, she can’t follow you. “Oh, y/n, you’ll have to write as much as you can. Please let us know how you adjust. We’ll be here if you ever need to come home. We’ll be there for the wedding, too, don’t worry…” As she drones on and adjusts your clothing, you realize she’s saying all the things she needs to hear in order to feel comforted. You, on the other hand, feel nothing as they load your items into the back of the carriage and finally, place you in the modest-sized thing. 

When you pull away, you watch your waving mother fade into the distance, waving back until you could see her no longer. The open-air hits your face, and as you leave the only town you’ve ever known, you wonder if you’d ever be back. 

The letter - your future - is resting in your lap, and you finger the thing, flipping the edges of the letter around and around while scenery drifts by you.

Before long, you’re out of the town’s limits, and steering toward a path you’ve never seen before. Your nerves leap to extreme heights, and you release the clasp on the curtains that will shield you from sight. What did it matter that you were in unfamiliar territory? Wasn’t that just a metaphor for the rest of your life? 

The steady rocking of the carriage and sounds of nature lulls you into a rhythm and then, slowly, into sleep. There was no point in staying awake the entire time; you might as well get some rest before you met your future husband. 

_______________________________________________________________________

You don’t realize the carriage has stopped until you awake, your left hand knocking against the side of the carriage as you slide out of sleep. 

“Gojo?” When there is no response, you peel the curtain aside, and notice you’re in the middle of greenery. When you look down, there are faint signs of a path, but it seems to be grown over by grass and moss. “Gojo?” 

You have two options: you can get out of the carriage, risk staining your dress, and find the white-haired bastard, or you could stay put and wait for him to return. At first, the second option seems fair, but the longer you wait, the more you worry about him. 

Finally, you gather up the courage to exit the carriage, planting your feet firmly on the ground beneath you and walking to the front of the carriage. The horse is still there, eyeing you as you walk around it, untethered to anything but remaining dreadfully still. You reason that if something were to have gone wrong, the horse would have taken off, and you with it. But there’s no sign of a struggle, and you’re alone. 

Well, almost. 

You hear a couple of voices getting closer, and one is unmistakably Gojo’s. But the other voice you don’t know. “Perhaps we should just go now and avoid riding straight into the camp.” 

“No,” Gojo grunts. “It’s part of the show. We have to show her off before he gets her.” 

Camp? 

“Is she really as beautiful as Yuko said?” Yuko? What did he have to do with-

“I would say even more so.” The voices are getting even closer, and you have to make a choice , and fast: either get back in the carriage or confront the two on their words. “But we have to make her believe she’s still going to the Imperial Palace even though--” You’re out of time before you know it, and you’re stuck standing on the other side of the horse, facing Gojo and a shorter, black haired man with wide eyes, who is most certainly not an Imperial Warrior. His eyes widen even more when he sees you, but Gojo just moves to scratch the back of his head. 

“I’m assuming you heard most of that conversation, y/n.” 

Instead of responding, you take off into the opposite line of trees, weaving your way through the brush and grass with as much maneuvering as you can manage. Quick footfalls are crashing behind you, but you bob and weave through the branches, hoping one might catch the person off guard and buy you more time. You have no idea where the village is in regards to your current location, but perhaps if you could find the closest town, you could get ho--

You fall face first into the forest floor, a body landing on your back with enough force to knock the wind out of you. Fallen debris is scratching at your face and exposed hands, the dress covering most of your skin and protecting you.

“Y/n… you’re fast, I’ll give you that. But not as fast as me.” You’re hoisted up by your arms, and not-Gojo throws you over his shoulder and carries you back to the carriage, defeated. 

“She’s dirty! Ugh, he’s going to kill me.” Gojo whines when you return, and the man sets you in the carriage with a thump, exhaling deeply. 

“If she didn’t run, we wouldn’t have this issue.” The man breaks the handle off the inside of the door and shuts it, effectively trapping you inside. “And if you had done what I told you to do, she wouldn’t have gotten out in the first place.” You scramble to the far side of the carriage when he tosses you a dirty look, then disappears around the front. “Ride on, dumbass. And if you think you don’t have a true runner on your hands, you’re absolutely wrong. Keep an eye on her at all times, Satoru, and don’t stop for anything.” 

Satoru. 

You store that piece of information in your brain, the name registering somewhere deep in the annals of your memory as the carriage lurches forward again. 

_______________________________________________________________________

You can’t sleep, even though it’s night. 

Your captor is being guided by the moonlight, and when you hear the sounds and smells of crackling fires and shouts of acknowledgement, you know you’ve arrived somewhere that isn’t the Imperial Palace. 

You tried to find out why Gojo had tricked you and your family, why you were being taken somewhere that wasn’t the palace, and why the letter even existed if you were simply being taken hostage. But every shout had only been met with silence. 

You dared not to open the curtains now. Even when the carriage stops, you clutch yourself and attempt to squeeze your body as far away from the door as you can manage. Silence falls over the ruckus outside, and you hear footsteps approaching the door. It feels like an eternity before the carriage is flooded with moonlight and someone grabs you roughly, yanking you out into the open. 

Your first reflex is to struggle to remain in the carriage, but when that fails, you rely on letting your hand loose and your fist fly into the face of your assailant. The sound of crunching bones as your fist makes contact with their nose is unmistakable, but your victory is short lived. Another pair of rough hands grab your arms, twisting them behind your back uncomfortably. 

“Unhand me!” you shout into the night, but the person does not do as you ask. It’s only then you can observe your surroundings with clarity. As you pant into the chilly night, you see scores of eyes - male eyes - observing the scene with a mix of disbelief and amusement. You yank against the hands that are restraining you, but when Gojo appears in your line of sight, he clicks his tongue disapprovingly. 

“You broke Haibara’s nose,” He looks over at the man clutching his face, blood running down his fingers. “That’s not very ladylike.”

“No, it’s not,” a deeper voice replies behind him, and a hand lands on his shoulder. Your eyes drag from Gojo’s face to the man now beside him, and you wonder for a moment if you’re dreaming an awful nightmare. Standing beside Gojo is a man of similar height; his long, black hair cascading around his shoulders and onyx eyes raking over your appearance lustily. 

Before you is General Geto Suguru, one of your country’s most feared enemies. His presence makes your knees weak - and not because of his good looks. No, it wasn’t even his looks that preceded him. His name was known among your people to be synonymous with “curse eater”, which made him even more fearsome than just a bedtime story told to keep children in line. Because if a man was able to eat curses… could he not eat children just as easily? 

“You’ll need to apologize to Haibara, little one.” 

But for some reason, instead of finding your voice, you spit at his feet in a show of bravery. The men in the gathered crowd reel back, inhaling in shock. But Geto and Gojo just raise their brows, looking at the spit gathered on Geto’s shoe. Geto cocks his head to the side a little, eyeing you curiously. “Haibara, follow me. Oh, and Nanami, bring her as well. I can see she’ll need some discipline before she’s wed to me.” 

[skipps-writes-for-gojo-satoru]

hello! can i request a scenario for gojo x reader ex to lovers? reader is a jujutsu sorcerer as well. both reader and gojo dated back in highschool but broke up afterwards. (cause of breakup is ur choice) but then they got reunited yrs after when they got paired for a mission, maybe angst to fluff? thank youuu! 🥺❤️

"Well, if it isn't (L/N). Long time no see."

You resist the urge to roll your eyes, not needing to turn around to recognize who it is. You knew that voice very well. The voice of your former highschool love, Gojou Satoru.

You don't respond to him, instead choosing to face the abandoned hospital which resided the curse you were both tasked to exorcise. You couldn't fathom what the higher ups were thinking, pairing you up with him. He could of very well handled the curse on his own. Maybe the higher ups just wanted to make your life harder than it already is.

"Not even an acknowledgement?" Cold~" As Gojou comes to stand beside you. "Let's just get this mission over with." You say to him, as you entered the hospitalーnot bothering to wait up for him. "Hey, wait up!" Gojou jogs to walk beside you, matching his pace with yours. "You've look different, (L/N) in a good way of course." "And you took up to wearing an ugly blindfold, but I'm not here to catch up with you. Let's search the hospital, I'll start up going down. You do the opposite." As you walked towards the staircase leading up to the upper floors, Gojou stares at your disappearing figure with a sighーdoing as he was told.

"Satoru~!" You wave your hands as you beckon him to you. Gojou who was walking with Geto, perked at the sound of your voice and ran towards you engulfing you in a huge hug leaving behind an amused Geto. "I missed you, (Y/N)~!" He exclaims as he nuzzles his face against yours. You coo against the feeling of his warm face against yours.

You slashed the last cursed spirit, finally clearing the upper levels of the cursed spirits. You wondered how Gojou was doing. "He's probably done and left" You thought to yourself, as a sigh escapes your lips, your heart aching at the thought. He looked just as handsome as he was years ago and you couldn't stop the butterflies fluttering in your stomach at the sight of him. You push that thought away you decend the down the stairs. However, what you failed to notice was a special grade cursed spirit lurking behind. As you're almost at the entrance of the hospital, a long tentacle wraps around your leg slamming against the concrete walls. You feel your breath knocked out of you as your eyes widen at the cursed spirit. "I couldn't sense it's presence at all..!" As tried to recover from the blow, but before you could even make a move, the cursed spirit continued to throw you around like a rag doll. No wonder the higher ups sent the both of you on this mission, you thought bitterlyーfeeling your consciousness slowing fading away, you body giving up due to the excruciating pain. "Satoru.." you whisper, feeling the spirit dragging your bruised body towards it's mouth...

"Satoru, what do you mean..?" You whisper, your head unable to register the words your lover uttered. "I'm sorry (Y/N), but it's better off if we're separated" as Gojou turns his back on you, unable to look at your sorrowful face. "No, you can't just leave me like this Satoru!" You run grabbing the hem of his uniform, making Gojou halt in his steps. "I'm sorry (Y/N)" as he harshly brushed your hand away from his arm. Walking away from your stunned figure. You could feel your eyes water as your heart breaks into a million pieces watching him walk away from you. Your whole world collapsing in front of you....

"(Y/N)!" You broke from your trace seeing a blurry figure stand a couple meters away from you. Gojou quickly warps behind the cursed spirit as he smashes the spirit against the wall. You could feel the tentacle lose it's grip on your leg. Your body finally giving up, you lose unconscious as the lasy sight you see was Gojou ripping the head of the cursed spirit off.

《•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••》

You feel your conciousness again, as you bleary blink open your eyes against the harsh light. A white hospital room ceiling was the first sight you registered. You tried to sit up, but a tremendous pains shoots up, making you grimace but lie back down on the bed. You could see bandages wrapped your arms but you did not expect to see your bandaged hand engulfed in the hand of Gojou Satoru. He breathes slowly as he rests head in his arms while holding your hand, he was asleep. You froze not wanting to wake him up. As you continue to stare at him you feel a few tears well up in your eyes. Then a small smile graces your face as you tighten your hold against his hand.

[cassanovancats]

felicitate. nine.

eight < current > ten

Dec. 24, 2017

You make yourself comfortable on the rooftop, debating if you should go ahead and text your brother. He would be almost as disappointed as you were; Satoru had taken to calling himself the captain of your ship with Yuta and Toge, even coming up with a nickname that incorporated shortened versions of all three names. You sigh, deciding it’s probably best to not text him. He’s likely already worried about leaving you in charge, no need to add a worry about something that isn’t deadly.

A sudden yell disrupts your thoughts and you jump into position, nocking an arrow and aiming towards the scream. You hitch your breath at the sight: Geto is striding into your school alone, leaving a trail of headless assistants behind him. One of the bodies is familiar and you recognize her as the assistant that gave you chocolate with a bright smile after a mission with unfortunate timing left you covered in curse blood and your own. She didn't flinch or offer pity - just a single chocolate kiss. Now she is covered in gore and blood, her previously pristine white shirt coated with her own brain matter.

You feel your resolve hardens. Geto is a curse-user, a human at his core, but he also is a monster. The arrow flies an accurate course but the man dodges, leaving it to embed itself into the wall instead of his torso. He turns to your rooftop, calling out, “Ah, (y/n)! And here I thought your brother would lock you in a tower.” Geto unleashes a grade-one curse that looks similar to a wolf and sends it after you. He is infuriatingly unbothered by your presence and continues his steady gait into the school grounds.

You start running across the rooftops, jumping over gaps and dodging the curse’s attempts to bite you. The rooftop tiles bite into your hands and knees. It faintly registers that a nail broke when you almost missed a jump, narrowly avoiding falling to the ground.

Satoru didn’t say how long to keep this secret, but you assume now is a good time to give Maki and Yuta a heads-up. You spot Maki stepping away from a classroom, so you run there, drawing the curse after you. On the roof next to where she stands, you plant your feet and turn, suddenly drawing your katana and slicing at the wolf. It draws back, avoiding your attack before lunging suddenly. Its claws sink into your leg. You cry out in pain, falling to your knees. When the curse lunges again, this time aiming for your throat, you fall on your back and thrust your blade into its stomach. You force the blade down its body with a grunt, disemboweling the creature. The teeth around your throat loosen, but the dead weight of the curse dropping on you prevents you from getting up immediately. Guts slide out and onto you and you suppress a gag. You feel a lot like Carrie on prom night.

When you finally stagger to your feet, you see Maki has engaged Geto in a fight that she’s obviously losing. You cry her name and rush to her side. She doesn’t get a chance to acknowledge you as Geto, in one fluid moment, breaks her weapon and sends her flying. She falls to the ground as a ragdoll, bleeding heavily from her side and head. You watch her body land, horrified, before you’re snapped back into the fight rudely.

Geto is now the closest to you he’s been since you were a child, frightened and unable to communicate with the people around you. He feels some long-forgotten sense of pity as he slides the blade of his knife further into your stomach. “W-wh-?” You look at the handle sticking out of your body curiously, blood starting to leak from the corner of your mouth. The pain hasn’t begun to register but your body understands that you are unable to fight. You faint, missing the entrance of Panda and Toge by a few precious seconds.

When Yuta comes out from the classroom, he isn’t sure what he’s expecting to find. He felt a few earthquakes and thought it best to find you and Maki to wait out any aftershocks together. Yuta was sure it was to be a little awkward after his rejection, but also wanted to be sure you were okay. He didn’t expect to find you covered in blood, the same cute gym clothing you were wearing that morning when he rejected you ruined. A quick glance around and he sees the rest of his classmates, his friends, in similar form. Inumaki is clinging to consciousness.

Geto, the one who grabbed Yuta months earlier, stands surrounded by the bodies, hardly winded. “I truly wanted you to live, Okkotsu, but this is for the future of jujutsu.” Yuta wonders how he can fight this man. How can he protect his friends, the only ones to give him a chance since Rika, when Geto already destroyed the strongest people he knew. He was so, so weak compared to each of them.

Inumaki desperately calls a slurred version of his name and says, “Run away.” The fact that the command does nothing, that Yuta feels nothing, breaks him from his spiral. He summons Rika in a rage.

“I am going to kill you!” He declares. Yuta doesn’t think he has ever felt such anger and despair, the feeling of watching Rika die now multiplied by four.

Geto simply says, “You are going to die.”

-

A sudden pull on your stomach wakes you harshly. “Shit!” Your eyes snap open, to see a sheepish Panda holding the knife that was previously in your stomach. You automatically go to apply pressure on the wound but your hands find Maki’s already there, dressing the wound. “What happened?”

“The fight’s over, but we need to find Yuta,” Maki explains. “He must have healed all of us, but you still had the blade in you. It needed to be removed before you get up. All of us are going to be fine, (y/n), you can rest now.” She helps you to your feet and you cringe looking at your ruined outfit. Maki catches your pout and smiles, glad some things never change.

Toge comes to your side to take Maki’s place as your crutch. You hug him tightly, unable to express in words how relieved you are. He hugs back, equally overwhelmed after seeing what seemed like your corpse. Toge helps you limp along as you all start tracking Yuta’s residuals. Panda clears his throat and asks, “When did this happen?”

“Only a few days ago. Don’t act like you didn’t see this coming,” you explain with an eye-roll.

“No, I totally did. Just curious who won the bet.”

“If we didn’t just fight for our lives, I would kill you.” You four continue to try to have a light conversation until you come upon Yuta’s unconscious body. Toge helps you sit on the ground and you move his head onto your lap, muttering about checking for a concussion. All of you needed medical attention but you were desperate to help any way you could now.

Yuta begins to blink his eyes open and sits up urgently. “Your wounds… Panda! Your arm!” He seems to be working himself into a frenzy. You place a comforting hand on his shoulder as Panda explains that everyone will be okay. Yuta urgently looks over you, trying to determine how much blood was yours, before he seems satisfied.

“Thank you for saving us,” You whisper. His eyes fill with tears and you wonder how scared he must have been. You maintain eye contact, hoping to communicate how much you admire him, before Rika’s jumbled voice makes the both of you jump. Yuta stands, leaving the circle your class formed around him.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, Rika,” he says, approaching her.

“What’s wrong?” Maki asks, a little fearful at how resigned Yuta looks.

Yuta hums a little before answering, “In exchange for her power, I promised to go with her.”

“What?” You screech and the suddenness of the yell pains your wound. Your classmates join a chorus of disagreement. Panda and Inumaki both grab fistfuls of his shirt to prevent him from walking any closer to Rika. Instead of her usual retaliation for someone restraining Yuta, her form just falls away to reveal a young girl. Four of you are confused but Yuta just mumbles, “Rika?”

A clapping distracts from the drama. You turn as best you can with a hole in your stomach to see your brother without any eye wear approaching your group. “Congrats. You broke the curse,” he continues to clap and stands next to you.

“Who’re you?” Yuta and Maki ask, causing you to snort before you groan at the pain.

Your brother pouts before replying, “Everyone’s favorite good-looking Gojo-sensei. Do you not see the sibling resemblance?” He gestures between your face and his, before carefully putting you on his back. He doesn’t even flinch at the grime covering you transferring onto him as well, relieved to see you awake and alert. You rest your chin on his shoulder and listen to him explain.

“I thought Yuta was interesting, so I looked into his lineage. Apparently, you’re a descendant of Michizane Sugawara. So, super-distant, but we’re relatives!” You groan and hide your face in Satoru’s neck; the teasing to come will be unbearable.

Your classmates look dumbfounded at the information while Yuta just goes, “Who?”

“One of Japan’s big three vengeful spirits.”

“A big-shot sorcerer.”

“Tuna.”

“The annoying side of the family,” you add.

Your brother takes back control of the conversation. “Yuta, you’re right. Rika isn’t cursing you, you cursed her. When the curser severs the bond tying servant to master and the cursed doesn’t desire punishment, the curse is broken. Though it seems you figured that out by yourself.” He gestures at the little girl and Yuta.

“Oh my god,” Yuta collapses in tears. “It’s all my fault…. Hurting so many people, Geto coming after me, it’s all my - all my -” He begins to hyperventilate. Inumaki takes a step to comfort him, but before he can, Rika approaches and hugs his trembling form.

“Thank you, Yuta. For giving me time and letting me be by your side. I’ve been happier these past six years than I ever was alive. Good-bye, be well. And don’t come over too soon, ‘kay?” She gives a bright smile, toothy and pure as she dissolves into bright ashes. Yuta stares at where she stood, long after all the ashes disappeared and everyone else walked away.

“See you,” He says to himself, before getting up to follow his friends to Doctor Ieiri.

[sirthisisa-wendys]

The Sacrifice Part 3: Geto Suguru x Fem!Reader

synopsis: everything is just out of reach.

wc: 1.7k

tw: none (semi-smut will be coming soon! I just wanted a soft moment for our little protagonist who has been through so much)

masterlist

You have until sundown.

Without Geto or Gojo around, things are quiet. No one comes to visit. It’s just you, Clymentestra, Helen, Serena, Danai, and Ariadne wandering around or making small talk in the alcoves of the Temple, while you wait for the sun to sink below the sky and bring you immortality. The Temple... That’s what you decided to call it. Cly called it something like “The Everlasting Residence of His Holiness, Geto Suguru, The Dragon God of blah blah blah...”, but saying “the Temple” was much easier for you and your brain to handle.

You discovered the following interesting rooms in your snooping session earlier: a set of bathrooms that were exactly identical to each other on opposite ends of a hallway, a room filled to the brim with books that you couldn’t read, a locked door that lead to a dungeon (you suspected), and another room filled with portraits of beings you didn’t know. Well, except Megumi. Megumi was in there, looking just like he did when you met him the day before. Boring.

Now, you’re just waiting on someone to come and find you to tell you that Geto is back, or that lunch is ready. Whichever comes first. But as you wait, thoughts of your impending transfer from mortal to immortal cloud your mind. Would every day be like this? Gossip with the others, wait for Geto to command you around, then sleep?

Is that what eternal life held for you?

Your train of thought is carried away on the wind when you see something blue and green winding its way down from the sky and into the field in front of the temple, followed by a white dragon.

Gojo… and…? You consider running down to the field to greet them, but your feet won’t move. Clymenestra doesn’t come to fetch you, so it’s not an urgent matter, you assume. Or she’s keeping you hidden, your mind whispers, and you remember the interaction from the day before:

“Don’t go blabbing your mouth to your stupid father, either. Geto would prefer to keep her under wraps for now.”

Did this have anything to do with your lack of immortality? And why is Geto so hell-bent on you becoming immortal, anyway? You ponder upon all of this as you toss open the doors to your chambers and walk down the left hallway, towards the dining hall. On the way there, you pass the locked door again, and for a moment, you press your ear to the wood to see if you can hear anything inside.

Nothing.

You straighten up, then enter the dining hall moments later, coming face to face with Gojo, who is sitting across from a pink-haired youth. “Oh,” Gojo stands, and smiles tightly, his eyes darting to the doors behind you. “Wrong room, darling. The kitchen is back there,” he prods, pushing you out of the dining room quickly and into the corridor to the kitchen, the youth’s eyes following you.

“Gojo, I have a ques--”

“Can it wait? Listen, you’re not supposed to be out of your rooms right now. And where the hell is Cly?” he hisses, looking about with a raised brow.

“Who is that in the dining room?”

“It doesn’t matter right now,” Gojo retorts tersely, removing his hand from your arm. “You need to stay in your rooms until Geto comes back. If he knows Yuji saw you, he’d be--”

“Can you at least tell me why Geto wants me to become immortal so badly?”

“No!” Gojo yells, staring at you intensely. “It’s enough that Megumi knows about you. Just do as I say or both of our asses will get hung out to dry, got it?” You shrink away from the angry man and brush past him to go back to your rooms immediately. When you sit on your bed and examine your bruised arm, you wonder why everyone is so secretive. It’s possible that you would glean more information upon your turn from human into immortal, but you can’t wait that long.

Or at least, you don’t want to.

But you’re forced to.

Lunch doesn’t come for another three hours, and by that time, you’ve lost any semblance of an appetite. So when Serena sits the offerings down in front of you, you just turn away and watch the sea tide roll in and out, like the thoughts rolling in and out of your mind.

“Where’s Cly?” you ask, and Selene inhales deeply.

“She’s away. The God of Death has called upon her.” You spin around in your seat, frowning deeply.

“She’s dying?”

“No,” Serena wipes her shaking green hands on her dress, and looks away from you. “His Omnipresence calls upon her from time to time for… entertainment.” By the looks of Serena’s expression, you don’t want to know what she means by that word, nor do you want to ask any further questions.

“Why does Geto allow this?” you whisper, but Serena bites her lip.

“He doesn’t know.” That’s all you need to hear. You turn back around, feeling your emotions stir inside of your stomach. “You should eat something before the ceremony,” she adds, but you shake your head.

“I’m not hungry.”

You fall asleep in that chair, only awakening when you’re lightly tapped on the shoulder by someone behind you. When you look up, you meet the soft eyes of Clymenestra, and you wonder how she’s doing before releasing she’s holding a red and gold robe in her hands.

“Get dressed and meet me in the hallway,” she whispers in the semi-darkness. You take the garment and she leaves the room silently, allowing you to disrobe in private. Once you’re redressed, you exit your room and meet Cly in the hallway.

As you follow her to an unknown destination, your heart pounds wildly in your chest, and you can feel nervousness gnawing away at your resolve. Could you back out of this? Or was it too late? All answers pointed to “too late” as your feet make contact with the warm sand of the beach behind the Temple. There, gathered in the sand, are Geto, Gojo, and the other four women.

Geto is half-clothed and holding a piece of parchment paper - only his lower body is covered in solid black kun pants, but his chest is covered in black swirls and symbols that you can’t decipher. Gojo is dressed similarly, his chest smeared in silver paint, and you wonder what everything stands for. But your curiosity is short-lived when your back is to the sea and Cly is standing behind Gojo, her eyes trained on you.

“Y/n, you were brought to my realm as a sacrifice, but you have accepted my offering of eternal life,” Geto begins, holding up the parchment and reading from it slowly. “As Dragon God and head of all things in this realm, I bequeath this gift to you.” He then hands you the parchment paper, and you accept it tentatively, wondering what to do next.

“Read it,” Gojo coughs, and your mouth dries up. When you look to Cly for help, she presses her lips together and nods at you, encouraging you to go on.

But you can’t.

“I can’t read,” you croak softly, but it’s too soft, as evidenced by Geto’s confused face.

“I’m sorry. Say that again, y/n.”

“I…” You inhale shakily. “I can’t read.” Everyone’s face goes from confusion to understanding, then trepidation.

“You… can’t read?” Gojo murmurs and Geto blinks in shock.

“Then she can’t…” Cly whispers back.

“The ceremony will be postponed,” Geto announces and takes the parchment from you. “We will have to teach you how to read first.”

_____________________________________________________________

Shame accompanies you as you sit on your bed and watch the others eat. Your body, however, wants to close in on itself and disappear. Food is the last thing on your mind right now.

“My cousin never learned how to read,” Ariadne mentions, pulling her fish apart, and other women echo her sentiments. You know they’re trying to be kind, but it doesn’t achieve the effect they desire at all. It just makes you feel even dumber than before.

Your door swings open a moment later, and Cly walks in, followed by Geto.

“Ladies, His Holiness is requesting the room.” The other women vanish in a mess of giggles and murmurs, leaving you and Geto alone as Clymenestra closes the doors. Geto strolls about in your room for what feels like ages until he stops in front of you in the bed.

“I did not know you couldn’t read.”

“No one does, your Holiness,” you reply, looking to your hands in your lap.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” he offers and holds up a book in his right hand. You watch him approach the bed carefully, then sit on the edge, his long black locks obscuring his facial features as he flips through the tome. “I’ll start coming by every evening to help you learn. Clymenestra has offered to help you learn how to write during the day. That way, you’re learning both at the same time.”

“Your Holiness, you are too ki--” Geto places his hand on your leg, looking up at you with his bottomless onyx eyes. You’re stunned into silence by his look - which isn’t one of pity. It’s one of compassion and kindness, and you can’t help but notice how handsome he looks in the flickering lamplight.

“Y/n, it is my duty and my honor to help you in this way. You returned something very precious to me, and I think it is only right to give you something just as timeless.”

“Did you get an answer from the Rain God?” you ask, and Geto drops his eyes.

“Yuta is displeased with your city for many reasons. He has demanded to speak with you personally about atonement, which is another reason why it is imperative for you to become immortal as soon as possible.”

“And the first reason why…?”

“I cannot answer that right now,” Geto whispers, and then opens the book again, shifting it so you could see the pages. “We should try this one. I like this story; it’s about a mermaid named Mija and a starfish named Nuri.”

You finger the gold-lettered pages carefully, feeling the smooth foil underneath your fingers, and Geto places your finger on the first word, holding your hand gently.

“Once”; the second word: “upon”; the third: “a”; the final word: “time”.

_____________________________________________________________

TAGLIST: @nostaren @sunfloweroranges @jibe-gajima @jotazinha @brownskinnedgirll @leanne-tamashi @vabybizzle @amaris9 @fuegy-fuegy @ambiguous-something @kontentious @missbonekitty @fyotituti @honouredsatoru @sandyscastle @flare-on @sashimeh @ggotgame

[sirthisisa-wendys]

Hiii may I request Getou + 5 + female reader please? Thank youuu and I hope you have an amazing day/night💗

This is a whole MOOD.

Here you go, sunshine! Thank you for requesting!

Son of My Enemy: Geto Suguru x Fem!Reader

wc: 1.5k

tw: none

The sounds of the Christmas party in full swing bring you joy.

For years, you begged your mother to let you plan the yearly event that drew the most elite crowd away from the stagnant shores of winter and onto the fertile grasses of the Mitsuhashi estate. This year, you were given full reign to do as you pleased: dress code, invitations, decor, food assortment, everything.

And it looks like months of planning led you straight to success. As the paparazzi attempts to catch photos of the most famous guests from outside, you make your rounds as the hostess for the evening, smiling at old family friends and introducing yourself to the newest addition to the elite crew: Maki and Mai Zenin. Nobara Kugasaki, Maki’s girlfriend, also joined them, her eyes shifting over the crowd as you approached them, but softening up once you mention Louis Vuitton and Emilio Pucci.

“They’re sweet girls,” you think aloud to your best friend, Mei Mei, who simply sips on her champagne and shrugs. “Do you thin--” A flurry of commotion attracts your attention to the front of the ballroom, and two tall males make their way into the room, dressed to the nines in tailor-made suits and simple accessories. Your chin instinctively tilts a little higher when you recognize the sons of two high-ranking Saiko-komons in the Takadashi syndicate.

One of them, Gojo Satoru, is the epitome of a cocky bastard. His strut, his white hair, his blue eyes, and his good looks make him the most popular of the two, despite rumors swirling around his lack of morality and lack of condoms. The other one, Geto Suguru, is less cocky, but more cunning. The black-haired fox face makes a great wingman, you note, noticing how he smiles at everyone in an unassuming way. They’re obviously the Yin and Yang of your age group, and they act like it, too.

“Y/n, y/n, y/n…” Gojo chants, rubbing his palms together when he sees you. “You’ve outdone yourself tonight. This will be a party everyone talks about for a week, then goes back to looking for the next party in time for New Year’s.” You want to smack the smirk off of his face and make it a party everyone talks about for years, but instead, you hold your resolve, letting Mei Mei respond.

“If you two hadn’t drug yourselves into the room, I’m sure they would have talked about the civility of the party compared to last year’s fiasco.” The memory of a destroyed oversized nutcracker flashes in your mind, and you press your lips together in displeasure.

“Why are you two here?” you wonder, and Suguru raises a brow.

“You act like we weren’t invited.”

“By who?” you ask, and Gojo whips out an invitation, the gold, and white color almost exactly like the ones you sent out in July. When you look at the paper, you’re surprised to see Gojo and Getou’s names in raised gold lettering on the invite. “I left you guys off the list this year,” you recall, distinctly remembering telling your assistant that Geto and Gojo would be marked off the list of potential guests and watching her draw a line through the names on her ever-shrinking list.

“You forged it,” Mei Mei grunts, snatching the card. She looks it over as well, then holds it up to the light to see if the watermark - copyrighted by your family - would appear. And sure enough, it did. “Hm. Looks like your brother or your mom has some explaining to do.”

“Yuta’s here?” Gojo presses, and you observe him standing on his tip-toes to see over the crowd easier. When he finds his target, he heads off in that direction, and you flash Mei Mei a look that begs her to follow him. She nods once, then disappears into the crowd. You assume Suguru has left as well, but when you turn around, you’re thoroughly surprised to see him still standing there, eyes drifting over your red sequined dress and strappy gold heels. He lets out an appreciative whistle and murmurs,

“Damn, y/n. You look beautiful tonight.”

“I always do,” you retort, turning away from Satoru’s sidekick while rolling your eyes. He follows you to the bar, where you order a rum and coke, hoping to be rid of the headache that followed you.

“You know, I would’ve thought you’d soften up by now. I didn’t expect you to still be miffed about the--”

“Can we not talk about this here?” you inquire, sighing deeply. Geto shrugs his shoulders and raises a brow.

“Would you rather we talk about it in the broom closet like last time?” You curl your lip up as the bartender delivers your drink, and you wonder if Suguru has any decency left in him as you turn away again, leaving him at the bar.

“I’d rather you leave me alone.”

“My tongue still remembers the way you taste,” he calls out, catching the attention of a few party-goers in the vicinity. You freeze, heat creeping up your neck and cheeks, and Suguru reappears in your line of vision, smirking. “I knew that would get you to pause. Now will you hear me out or will you continue to act like this? My ears can remember the way you scr--” You grab his wrist, growling,

“Meet me upstairs in the drawing-room in ten minutes.” His triumphant smile is enough to let you know he’ll be there.

_____________________________________________________________

The door opens and closes quickly behind you, and you turn to face the intruder with a frown.

“You’re hell-bent on embarrassing me, aren’t you?” Suguru walks past the various couches in the room to approach you, sliding off his dark blue jacket and casting it on a chaise lounge.

“Not as hell-bent as I am to be with you.”

“Just because we fucked while we were on vacation last year doesn’t mean we’re meant to be together,” you counter, crossing your arms over your chest. You don’t really think he’s a terrible person - or a bad lay - but his status as an associate with the Yakuza isn’t doing him any favors. But why would your mother (or brother, for that matter) invite him to the Christmas party?

“I’ve been pursuing you since then, and you’ve been brushing me off,” he notes, fingering the timepiece on the mantle. “But you and I both know why you’re not allowing me to get close to you.” When he rolls up his sleeves, you can see the various tattoos scattered about his forearms. “Just tell me you don’t want me and I’ll leave you alone forever.”

You look over at the man in the firelight and consider telling him to go away and never contact you again, but that would negate your feelings. Sure, you felt attracted to Geto. That much you could admit to yourself. But could you admit that to him?

“I brought you a gift.” He motions toward his jacket, and you sit on the chaise lounge before digging around in the pockets. You pull out a medium-sized white box, and open it slowly, the gleam of diamonds catching your eye. A Vivienne Westwood tennis bracelet sits neatly inside, and you look up at Suguru, who leans on the mantle, eyes watching you carefully.

“You didn’t have to give me anything,” you whisper, but he shrugs, blinking.

“Consider it your Christmas present.”

“But I don’t think--”

“Don’t think too much of it. First, though, I want to apologize for causing a scene. Second, I want you to know that even though I’m part of the Takadashi clan…” Suguru runs a hand through his long hair, sighing. “It doesn’t mean that I’m going to make your life hell. I know what your mother went through with your father, but I swear that I’ll make sure you’re not put in harm’s way. Ever.”

“Yuta invited you,” you realize, and a lazy grin slides over his face.

“He called me and told me your trepidation.”

You shake your head, putting the box down on his jacket, and standing. “Why would my brother tell you that?” Suguru pushes off the mantle and walks toward you, hands now stuffed in his pockets. When he stops in front of you, you contemplate rising up on your tiptoes to reach his lips, but he tilts your chin up with his right hand instead.

“I guess he saw me pining after you and felt bad.”

“He’s not the type to take pity on anyone,” you counter.

“He’s also not the type to be in talks with the Takadashi clan about securing some sort of protection against the other clans, is he?” By now, Geto’s closed the space between you easily, pressing his other hand to the small of your back. “Besides, wouldn’t it be fun to play bodyguard and heiress? Have you tried that?” he murmurs against your lips, and you press yours to his in response.

“It wouldn’t be unheard of,” you reply softly, and he kisses you again, holding you flush against him while you two make out in the firelight of the drawing-room.

[sirthisisa-wendys]

The Regular (Part 1.5): Geto Suguru x Fem!Reader

synopsis: Geto is back for more, but innocence and sincerity isn’t something you’re used to.

word count: 2k

tw: none 

a/n: This is just a brief interlude between part 1 and part 2! It will get steamier in part 2 for sure. 

The squeal of the hinges alerts you to someone’s presence in the dressing room, and you look up from your phone and into the blue eyes of Mrs. Lampton. She’s wearing a shit-eating grin and holding out a wad of cash, obviously very excited to speak to you. “This is for you! VIP room tonight. You know the deal.” Before you can stretch out your hand to warily accept the cash, you raise a brow in question. “Oh, it’s the man from last night.” She answers quickly, a blush fanning across her fair cheeks. 

Geto. 

You stand to take the cash from the manager, noting the thickness of the stack and the way that the bills were pressed smooth - not crumpled like the ones thrown at you in haste. Someone had counted this money and stacked it with you in mind. 

“This is--” 

“It’s more than enough to cover the nightly operating fees for a week,” Mrs. Lampton waves away your observation, disappearing as soon as she finishes speaking. The hunter green two-piece you wore was no longer appropriate, and you take a look at the small offerings of clothing you had at your disposal. He had already seen the red lingerie, and that left you with the only other thing you had bothered to bring: a baby blue silk slip dress. Sliding the flimsy thing over your head, you think about his intentions tonight. Would Geto touch you? Would there be any sign of his arousal beyond the uncomfortable shifting? Or would he perform the “I’m going to save you from this place” act? You didn’t want to be saved from the club, that much you knew. The club had saved you. This environment provided you a well-needed distraction from the constant chaos that was your daytime life. Compared to that, the strip club was absolute heaven, and nothing would change that. Not even the wads of cash you were bound to receive from the mysterious man. 

It’s the main reason why you empathize with your clients: escapism isn’t just a luxury they could afford. It’s one you desperately need, and they just bring the money for you to enjoy the feeling of being someone else for a change. On stage, you were someone everyone looked at with lust and desire. The attention on you there was rarely negative and if you could trade your daytimes for your night times, you would do it in a heartbeat. 

Before you can slip back into your true self, you look at yourself in the mirror and fluff your natural hair. No wigs, that’s one of Geto’s rules. You take one more look at your reflection, decide it’s enough, and slide the thin black robe over yourself before exiting. 

“Come here.” The request is met with immediate obedience, and you feel your legs magnetically pulled to the man sitting cross-legged on the couch, dressed in a dark blue shirt and black slacks. The top three buttons on his shirt are open, letting you catch a glimpse of the strong, pale chest beneath. “You look alluring, as always.” 

Geto extends a hand out to you, and you tenderly take it, sliding your fingers into his large palm. Surprisingly, the pads of his fingertips and palm aren’t rough and calloused. That’s the sign of a man who doesn’t have to work hard for his money, your aunt would say. And you found that to be mostly true. Yuma never had calloused hands, not with his late father’s money cushioning him from any hard labor. 

When Geto pulls you into his lap, you perch yourself on his right leg precariously, letting his right arm wrap around you and settle onto your hip. Instinctively, you lean into his frame, resting your head on his massive shoulder. His smell is different tonight. It’s earthen and full of some essential oil you can’t quite identify, but it suits him. 

“Talk to me,” he murmurs over the soft music. He had the selections changed, you notice, the usual songs sexual and explicit. Now, you were surrounded by jazz, which changed the entire environment of the VIP room. You no longer felt like you would have to dance around sensually for him. Now, you felt like you were in a fancy, upper class yacht club, except in a robe and a night slip with no shoes on. Was he trying to save you? “Tell me about your day.” 

“I’d rather not,” you whisper, thinking of the tension-filled morning and the afternoon you slept away. “Tell me about your day.” Geto rests his cheek against the crown of your head, inhaling deeply before exhaling; his chest rising and falling exaggeratedly. 

“I’d rather not.” A moment of understanding passes between you, but he squeezes your hip suddenly, laughing a little. “Tell me, y/n… you seem well-adjusted. Did you choose this career path or did this career path choose you?” 

“Well…” you think about the question deeply, and choose accordingly. “I chose this.”

“Do you enjoy what you do?” 

“I do,” you breathe, remembering Yuma for a second. “I enjoy it here. Do you enjoy what you do?” When the man doesn’t answer, you lift your head off of his shoulder and look into his onyx eyes. There’s a certain stare in them - not a long stare, but enough to make you wonder - and it isn’t until he blinks that his lips part to answer. 

“I do what I have to in order to survive.” 

“You make it sound like you’re a mobster.” The laugh that resonates in his chest is deep and thoughtful, like he was just considering the prospect of it all. He reaches out a hand to touch your cheek, which you shy away from slightly. It isn’t unusual for a man to attempt to touch you in a more intimate way, but all of this coming from Geto feels too familiar. He clears his throat and drops his hand, looking away from you and at the lamps on the wall. 

“If I said I was, what would you do?” 

“Nothing,” you admit. “There’s not much I could do. Who would I tell?” The thought that this man could actually be a mobster just needing a break sticks a little harder than it should. It would explain the cash, the nice outfits, the need for privacy… 

“No, I don’t associate with the underbelly of society. It’s not my game. Gojo, though…” You frown at the name, and he looks at you with a blank stare. “My bad; my friend from the night before.” 

“Blue eyes?” 

“Yeah,” he begins, looking away. “He brought me here to ease my nerves… I thought a few drinks would do the trick. But here I am.” He gives you a half-shrug, lips turning back up into a smile. That’s when the question you’ve been dying to ask falls out of your mouth without caution.

“Why do you pay more than you have to for... this room?” For me, you want to add, but decide that’s a step too far into personal details. Geto blinks, no doubt sensing your unspoken addition, and tilts his head to the side. “I mean, you could have an escort come to you every single night for the amount you pay for all of this…” You wave your hand around at the furnishings as if to prove your point. “And you could have sex with them.” 

“That’s not what I’m looking for right now.” He replies, and you squint in disbelief, moving off of his leg. 

“You’re telling me you don’t want to have sex.” 

“Is that a question or a statement?” He asks, chuckling a little at your wary expression. 

“Both.”

“Can’t I just get to know a beautiful woman in the privacy I can afford?” 

“You could date a rich woman and take her out to fancy dinn-” 

“That’s a lot of commitment.” Geto interrupts, holding a hand up to cut you off. “I don’t think that’s something I want splashed across every gossip rag.”

“And this is?”

“No one comes here to gossip. The focus is you and your co-workers, and they know what I come here for. It’s not as headline-inducing as taking out the heiress to a billion-dollar company to eat overpriced scallops in a five-star restaurant that pays its workers too little.” He hasn’t raised his voice a single octave, instead looking at you with a soft gaze and planting his hand on his now-abandoned leg. You take in all of the information he’s offered, uncrossing your arms and now standing akimbo, unsure of how to respond. 

Gossip rags… Heiresses… Headlines…?

Geto wasn’t just rich. People had their eyes on him. Why hadn’t Mrs. Lampton warned her? Who else knew about his status in a world that she couldn’t truly occupy? 

“Please,” he begins, stretching his hand out once more. “Sit with me. I enjoy your company.” You take his hand again, and this time he slides you in next to him, your bare leg touching his soft pants. “Now, tell me about the day you wish you had.” 

_______________________________________________________________________

Your alarm goes off at exactly seven am. It isn’t ideal, but you know that in order to even get to your aunt’s flower shop on time, you had to give yourself an hour head start. Waking up was hard enough, and with the situation you were facing, it seemed like times would be getting even harder. 

It isn’t until you get into the shower that you recount the details of the last night. 

“I’m going to be away for a few days, but here’s a little something that might warm your hands while I’m gone.” 

The impossible had happened yet again, and the thick stack of twenty dollars bills Geto handed you sat in your safe - untouched, uncirculated, and the seal around them remained unbroken. You had tried to look him up and find out what exactly he did during his day life, but the search results turned up absolutely nothing but an article from four years ago proclaiming the winner of a chess tournament in India named Geto. When you clicked on the article, you couldn’t read it, but the thirteen-year-old champion was absolutely not the man that had lavished you with cash. 

You tried looking up his white-haired friend, Gojo, but found nothing on him as well. Whoever they were, there was not a single gossip rag that published a photo, quote, or mentioned them. 

Because they paid them off, stupid. 

You nod to yourself at the realization, and wash yourself completely before toweling off in the steamy bathroom. You’re in the middle of wondering what kind of people actually paid to have their names taken out of magazines when the door shudders violently under someone’s fist. 

“Fucking hurry up,” one of your housemates yells from the other side, and you gather your things before rushing past the man in the doorway, ducking your head so he couldn’t accost you. But you’re roughly yanked to the side, making you drop your dirty clothes to the floor. Rough, calloused fingers bite into your arm, and you gasp, staring at the unfriendly face of the only male in the house.  “Stop using all of the damn hot water in this house, y/n. I’ve told you that you get only three minutes of hot water, or else you’re paying the entire water bill, got it?” 

“Sorry, Ryo…” you shrink away from the man’s harsh gaze, and he lets go of your arm silently, storming into the bathroom and slamming the door shut. This. This is what you needed saving from. 

Ryo’s girlfriend, Hasia, timidly shuffles into the room and gives you an apologetic look. She always did that, coming behind Ryo to apologize with her face and never her words. But it was almost over. Soon, you’d have enough to move out and be on your own - and if Geto was going to stay, then all of his money would trickle into your savings for rent, utilities, and new furniture. As it stood, you had enough to purchase something halfway decent, and with the rest of the incoming money, you would be able to fix it up to appear quite nice. You just had to time everything right, and keep your new regular coming back for more.