#halloween nights jjk | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pennjammin · 21 days

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p is for p*ssy 🐈‍⬛

JJK HALLOWEEN!! getoxreader

sum it up ❥ suguru is cursed to turn into a cat by nightfall, and you are a lonely witch who takes advantage of his human parts during the day.

CONTENT: shapeshifter!geto, modernau, swan lake adaptation, fluffy, soft, praise kink, virgin!reader, unprotected, creampie, overstim, nudity unrelated to sex

word count. 8k

song inspo 💿: west savannah ft. sza

A/N:

to conclude my beloved Halloween jjk series, i am giving our bby geto the soft love story he deserves. everything about this fic is gentle from the conversations to the smut and so, it may be boring and out of some of your interest range, so i apologize. this is just something i wanted to do. ofc it’s still a little *nasty* just not rough.

The moon kisses your skin as you sink into the small pond in your front yard.

With no neighbors for miles, you're able to do so without clothes, letting your body recharge in moon water, drenching your hair and skin.

Your practices may appear silly, but that is why you live like a recluse, your only friends being the wildlife and the riverbed. No one around to judge you as you splash your bare shoulders in the cool water.

You lean back in the pond, arms balanced on the wet earth around you. You stare up at the stars. Your eyes begin to flutter closed, until you hear rustling.

Not uncommon. Of course there's wild animals all around you, and you usually welcome them. With it being dark though, you have to be a bit more cautious.

You open your eyes and turn, scoping the scenery. At first, you don’t spot anything until you hear rustling again. Your eyes follow the noise, then you see that walking along the bushes near your porch is a fuzzy, black ball. You cannot quite make out what it is until you squint and see bright purple, slitted eyes staring at you.

It's a cat.

You gasp in excitement and pull yourself out of the water. The cat scurries around the corner of your porch and you frown, but you know how you can get it to come back.

In all your bare skin, you bolt inside the house, dripping water, and begin to scour your fridge for the tuna you had very recently made.

The real reason you live so far from society is because you are not quite an ordinary human. You see, any food that you cook heals the person who eats it. You first discovered this when your brother had busted open his head as a child, and you'd made him a sandwich out of sympathy. Hours later there was not so much as a scar in the place he'd been bleeding out of.

And ever since, when your parents weren't looking, you and your brother would beat yourselves up just to test your powers. He remains the only person who knows about them.

With this ability, you figure the stray cat could use a bit of healing. You fix the tuna into a small bowl, a soft shimmer coming from the fish.

You walk back outside, still stark naked. You don't see the cat anymore but you can hear it in the bushes. You squat down and place the bowl on the grass, just under the awning of your wooden porch, and then you back away.

“Here, kitty kitty,” you coo.

Moments later, the skinny cat emerges, glancing up at you to see if you intend harm. You back away farther and soon, it dips its head and begins eating the food.

Within minutes, the patchy fur around its ears begins to fill in, the mats disappear, and the crust around its purple eyes dissolves.

You smile to yourself. You've only had to use your healing technique on yourself in the past years, so you weren’t entirely sure how powerful they still were. This confirms you’re still fully capable.

The cat would go on to disappear, but for the next couple of months, you’d search for it outside, both day and night. It only ever appeared at night, though, and only about twice a week. Sometimes less.

“Why hello, kitty,” you’d say when seeing the cat, and it would regard you with a mew, but it would never quite come close enough to touch.

A week passed, for the first time in months, and there was pure silence. No sign of the cat. You found yourself rocking on a chair on your porch, waiting, and it didn’t come for an entire seven days.

Until a full moon-bathing night.

The cat returns, completely different in appearance and nearly a brand new animal. It's belly is thick with nutrition, ears sharp and full, tail furry and active.

And to your complete surprise, the cat approaches you in the pond.

You jump with surprise, and turn around to face the cat, putting your hand out of the water. It sits down next to the water and watches you intensely.

You don't move for a moment, afraid to scare it off. But after several beats, it nudges your wet hand and you rub your palm across its back.

You jolt with the realization that you have earned its trust.

"Welcome back," you say softly, moving your hand to scritch its chin. "I wish I knew what you were. A boy or girl. So I can name you. Right now, your name is 'here, kitty kitty.'"

The cat's ears twitch as it rolls onto its side and licks its paw.

"Oh well," you shrug. "Kitty will have to do for now. Anyway," you shake your head, realizing you are trying to hold a conversation with a cat. "Where have you been, naughty cat? I was worried about you.”

The issue with you holding a conversation with the cat is that it seems to be listening. It looks up at you with a slow blink and mews.

You smile. “It’s okay. Just missed you, is all.” You take a deep breath. “It’s chilly tonight, kitty. You sure you don’t want to stay with me? I have a warm bed.” You rub your hand along its side and it begins to purr.

Perhaps that is a yes.

It leaves your hand and skips to the porch where it then sprints towards the front door, turning to face you expectantly.

You huff and then pull yourself up out of the water, your body soaked and dripping as you reach for your dry cloth and begin to wrap it around yourself as you walk towards the feline, who is staring at you.

When you make it onto your wooden porch, you smile down at the feline and pull open your storm door, stepping inside as the cat follows.

It glances around, nose twitching, taking in this new and intimidating space.

“I would have made you your own space if I’d known you were coming,” you say, continuing to talk to the cat like it would really respond.

It was much to hope for, but you hadn’t had a conversation with anyone in years.

You lead it off to your bedroom and push open the door.

"I don't mind if you sleep with me," you say kindly, but now it appears that the cat is back to not understanding you, as it goes into the bathroom and looks around - then back to the living room, before ultimately nestling in on your couch.

You sigh as you follow it around with a smile.

"Fine, make yourself at home.” You walk over to scratch the cat on its head. “If you see any mice, feel free to take care of it for me. I will see you in the morning.”

Okay, so maybe you have lost it. A lonely, weird witch who's speaking to animals that cannot understand you. But at least you have a companion now, something to help you be a little less lonely.

Maybe.

You go into your room and change into warm pajamas, then settle into bed that night with a smile on your face. You poor thing, having no idea what you'd gotten yourself into.

The sun peeks through the window the next morning, and gently pulls you out of your sleep.

The first thing on your mind is that you have to feed your new pet. Even though it looks well fed thanks to your magic, it has been a week since you'd seen it last, so you aren’t sure if it has eaten in that time.

You rub your eyes free of sleep and grab a comb in order to gently work the sleep-knots out of your hair. You emerge from your bedroom to head to the kitchen.

Halfway down the hall, you hear snoring and you freeze. Is the little cat really that loud of a sleeper?

You peer around the corner and, you don't see the feline anywhere. But then your eyes travel to the couch, where you’d seen it last.

Your eyes land on very human toes, then they slither up a very bare human calf, then over a bare muscular thigh, and up a bare human chest, until they land on a human face - surrounded by a wild pool of ebony hair.

Your shriek jerks the individual awake.

You take your comb and hold it out in defense, but you know realistically there is no violence in your body.

"Oh, shit," he shouts, scrambling to stand off of the couch and raising his hands. "I-I thought you would sleep a bit longer."

"Who the hell are you?" you shriek, your trembling hand keeping the comb up in defense.

"I'm..." he swallows and looks down, appearing to realize that he is stark naked, but makes no effort to hide himself. "You invited me in," he continues, voice accusing. "Here, kitty kitty. Remember?"

You blink in disbelief. Your eyes trail over his black hair, then his purple eyes, the slits in them now blown to full size. He's not lying. There is no denying the eyes.

"B-But how are you human?" you whisper.

He sighs sadly, dropping his hands. "I have a curse." He scratches his head and you wonder when is the last time he's taken a bath that wasn’t with his own tongue. "I apologize, as I never intended for you to find out."

You think back to your time with the cat. He’d seen you naked a couple of times, for long periods at that. And he’d secretly been a man the whole time. Even though he stood naked in front of you now, as well, you're more embarrassed than you are upset with him.

"It's okay," you say softly, lowering the comb.

He blinks at you in disbelief but his shoulders visibly relax.

"I considered telling you sooner but, I didn’t want to scare you.” He sighs and interlocks his fingers. "But I always wanted to thank you for healing me.”

You nod slowly. "It was my pleasure.” You pause for a moment. "What is your real name?”

"It is Geto," he says.

"Odd name for a cat," you say, teasing. "I'm Y/N."

Geto nods. “Lovely, well, I'm sorry for the intrusion. I'll go now." He turns to leave and your heart stops.

"What?" you blink at him. "N-No, you don't have to do that."

"Well, don't you think I'm some kind of freak?" he questions. "Aren't you upset I didn't reveal the truth sooner?"

"No, and yes," you say softly. "I wish you would have told me because…” because it is a dream come true that you’re a human, you want to say. “Because who am I to judge you?”

Geto clicks his tongue. “People judge all the time even if they have no right to.”

“I am a witch who lives by herself in the woods and talks to animals, for God’s sake,” you throw your hands up. “Clearly, I needed someone real to talk to.”

“I’m sorry,” Geto says, swiping a hand down his face.

You take a deep breath. “No, I’m sorry, that was uncalled for.” You lower your hands. “How long will you be human?"

"Only until dusk," Geto explains.

"And this happens, everyday, without fail?" you question, taking a step towards him, trying not to allow your eyes to wander.

"Yes," he says, raising an eyebrow, hands flying up in defense. "Forgive me, but I am naked. I don't think-"

"Do you know how long I've been without companionship, kitty?" you ask, putting your hands on your head. "I enjoyed taking care of you, feeling like I kind of had a pet, anticipating your return. I don’t want you to leave so soon.”

Geto bites his lip, "Really? I... I enjoyed coming to see you, too. Especially on nights you moonbathe."

You quirk your brow. "Is that so?" That much was obvious, as you think about the previous night when he had come and sat next to you while you were in the water.

Geto nods sheepishly, keeping his eyes averted. “So, this means I can... stay with you?"

You nod happily, "Of course. How long have you been out there like this? With no where to go?"

Geto shrugs his shoulders. "My life before getting cursed is pretty fuzzy. The days and nights have blended together.”

“And you are always naked?” you snicker.

Geto chokes a bit and uses his hands to hide that part of himself, which you’d been trying not to look at and failing miserably.

“Um, I wasn’t at first,” he admits, “but my clothes became ripped to shreds and I just accepted defeat. If I am wearing something before nightfall, by morning when I am human again, I will be in the same clothes.”

“Oh, fantastic,” you say with a smile.

Geto opens his mouth to respond, but with a snap of your finger, his body is covered in a black sweater, shorts and warm socks - as you are well aware of your cottage’s autumn chill.

"Clever witch," Geto nods in approval. "Thank you. I don't deserve this kindness."

But he does, you think. A man cursed to be something as small and vulnerable as a cat, forced to defend for himself all this time.

And to top it off, as a person he is gentle and kind. You feel your heart palpitate. You aren’t sure what that could mean.

“You’re welcome,” you say, and gesture towards the kitchen. “I was going to make breakfast. Now that you’re human, would you care for pancakes?”

"I have never had pancakes," Geto admits. "But anything you make is delicious, so I’d love to try some.”

And so, you both end up at your small wooden table - a perfect fit for just the two of you as the sun beams in through the arched windows. You've poured strawberry syrup all over Geto's stack of cakes, and he is devouring them with full cheeks and a bright smile.

"I love pancakes," he mutters out. "Your food gets better every time.”

You nod at him with a smile. "Just wait till I make dinner. I know you will be a cat again, but I think you will enjoy it.”

Geto's eyes roll in pleasure, "I already can't wait."

You know your food has physical healing abilities, but you've never known it to seep deep enough to affect your thoughts and emotions. So, this means the odd twinge in your heart whenever you look at Geto must not be from the food. You wonder if he is feeling the same effect.

"So, have you ever tried to break your curse?" you question, shoving another syrupy mouthful into your cheeks.

"No," Geto mumbles sadly. "I used to sit under the sun for many hours, and then when the sun began to go down I'd close my eyes and try to fight the change. But when I'd open my eyes again, there would always be paws looking back at me. I'm used to it now, I live my life around it.” He sighs before smiling softly at you. “And, well, my curse brought me to you, didn't it?"

You feel your face warm at his kind words. They weren’t helping the fuzziness in your ribcage.

"It did," you confirm with a smile. "Well, I was prepared to give you your own little cat room. The offer still stands, but I don’t think the room will be big enough for you in human form.” You tap your fingers nervously on the table. “So… um, you are welcome to share my bed with-with me.”

Geto gasps a bit and nearly chokes on his bite of pancake. "Hmm, I don’t mind, but are you going to wake me up every morning threatening to hit me with a comb?"

You grin, "No, especially since I think it will be nice to wake up to the warmth of another person every day."

"I think so too," Geto says softly, before attempting another bite only to realize he has cleared his plate. "My, my, little witch. You have spoiled me."

He elbows you playfully and you feel your stupid, lonely heart filling to the brim with some new emotion.

"I do think you could stand a bath before you get in my bed, though," you say with a playful smile.

"Oh, right," Geto nods, pink creeping up on his cheeks. "I will do so right after breakfast."

And he did. You had gone outside to tend to your garden while he washed, to see if your vegetables were ready to be harvested yet. They weren't.

Geto joins you in the same outfit as before but now, there are droplets of water falling off of his deep black hair. He walks under the porch awning to the side where you are waving your sparkling fingers over your crops.

"I feel much better," Geto stretches as if he were still feline and leans on the porch railing, looking down at you. "A good meal, a good shower, and a place to live all in one day."

You look up at him. "Well, after so long in the wilderness, I think you deserve it, kitty."

Geto bows his head in gratitude. "At least let me take care of your garden, to... repay you."

"Why do you need to repay me?" you question, astonished.

"Well, nothing in this life comes for free," Geto mutters somberly. "Otherwise, I wouldn't have this curse."

You shake your head, "Well, I already told you that I desire companionship. You are giving me that, so it isn’t technically free."

Geto swallows. "But what is companionship? Just my presence? Or is it engaging and fulfilling conversations and time spent together?"

"All of the above, it may be different depending on the day," you explain.

Geto ponders for a moment. "So, what is it you would like today?"

You smile at him, the sun beaming in your eyes, while Geto remains shadowed under the awning. "Your presence."

And when dusk fell, like clockwork, Geto was back on all fours; a small, vulnerable ball of fur.

You prepare a quick dinner, which Geto slurps up to the last bite, and then you are ready to go to bed - just because you know that the sooner you sleep, the sooner you can wake up to be with human Geto again.

You go into your room, preparing for bed, and he follows you this time. You step behind your closet door to change into a silk nightdress and then, you climb into bed, and Geto hops up next to you. You fluff your pillows and blankets to make a little spot for him, and he curls into it before nestling his head into your side.

Your hand mindlessly strokes his fluffy back until he's purring in his sleep, and not long after, you float away with him.

The next morning, something solid digging into your back awakes you from your peaceful dreams.

You blink open your eyes and see that it is grey outside, combined with the soft tip tap of raindrops on your roof. You smile, it's going to be a lazy day indoors.

When you attempt to roll over, you notice Geto's hand is splayed on your stomach. A moment later you realize: his entire arm is wrapped around you. But that's not exactly what's bothering you, it's whatever is digging into you from behind.

You carefully roll over in Geto's arm. When your face aligns with his, you see he's still sound asleep, messy hair covering his cheeks and forehead. His lips are parted as he snores.

The something is now digging into your stomach. You glance down and find the culprit: the large tent in his shorts. You gasp at the sight. Does Geto realize this is happening to him?

Of course you know what sex is, but being outcasted at such a young age, you'd never experienced it. You certainly don’t know how it affects boys. Over the years you'd experimented with your body, though, so you knew how to please yourself. But what would it be like with another person?

You wonder if the case is the same for Geto. There’s only one way to find out.

You shake him awake with a soft press on his shoulder.

His eyelids flutter open, and the first thing he does when he sees you is smile.

"Good morning, beautiful," he grumbles sleepily, hand flying up and off of your body to rub his gorgeous purple eyes.

You smile goofily, and feel the urge to cover your face.

"Hi," you whisper. "How did you sleep?"

Geto yawns, stretching. "I slept better than I have in years. You’re very warm and soft."

You smile harder, heat filling your cheeks. "I cannot say the same for you."

Geto raises a brow. "Am I a rough sleeper?"

"No, I just mean," you bite your lip and shyly point towards his groin.

Geto's eyes follow yours and then his face turns equally as red. "Oh, shit, I-"

"Don't apologize," you say quickly. "In fact, um, I was going to ask if... if you wanted help f-fixing it."

Geto's eyes widen in disbelief. "What do you... I mean, you want to...?”

"Yes." Your answer is quick and desperate.

"Well then," Geto scratches his head and then puts his soft palm on the side of your face. "I said I would be here to offer whatever type of companionship you desired day to day. Today, this is what you really want?"

"Mhmm," you whisper, leaning into his touch. "Do you want to?”

“Of course,” he smiles. “I mean, my body kind of already answered for me, hm?”

You giggle, “Kiss me, then.”

Geto nods politely before leaning his face in, softly planting his feathery lips on top of yours. Your eyebrows furrow at the foreign contact. It feels like sparks of electricity are zipping through your veins. Like stars forming together in a constellation. You wonder if this is what soulmates are supposed to feel like.

Geto's lips part your own and his tongue drags slowly across your bottom lip, leading the kiss, as you are clearly the lesser experienced of the two of you.

A small moan falls from your mouth and your eyes pop open in embarrassment.

"Oh, I'm sorry," you say, pulling away.

"For what?" Geto questions, rubbing your cheek slowly with his thumb.

"I didn't mean to make that noise," you whisper.

"No, it’s okay," Geto explains. "Those noises let me know what I'm doing is good, that you like it. Have you never done this before?"

You shake your head, biting your lip.

"That's okay, I'm here to guide you through it," he nods reassuringly, and then, drops his hand from your face.

He gently pushes on your shoulder and you are now laying flat on your back. He then props himself up on his elbow and slides part of his body between your legs.

"Just follow my lead, and tell me if you want me to stop at any time," he instructs, pushing a piece of your messy morning hair away from your face.

You nod trustingly, and he crashes his lips back onto yours.

This time, he's harsh and desperate. He cocks his head to the side so that your faces fit together and smacks his full lips against yours. Your hands fly up to hold him at his shoulder blades, and his body begins doing a winding motion against yours. You feel his hard length pressing into your stomach with every bit of movement.

You purr softly into his mouth and he responds with his own sultry noise, which alights a flame between your legs. You’ve read about this in books, but no amount of words compared to what it actually feels like, to have another person on top of you.

Geto's hand slides up the side of your left thigh, before stopping to hold your hip underneath the fabric of your nightdress.

His touch and kisses are so soft and pure. He is speaking to you without saying a word.

"Y/N," he mutters against your mouth before breaking away from you. "Is it okay if I take these off?"

His finger tugs the band of your panties and releases it against your skin with a soft pop.

"Yes," you breathe, digging your fingers into the material of his shirt, which earns a deep sigh from his throat.

Not a second more and he's lifting his hips up in order to rip the material down your legs. His eyes linger on them before he tosses them to the floor. You feel yourself become a bit shy, even though he's seen your naked body in full before. It's entirely different when his very human eyes are raking over your body, and his hands are hiking up the nightdress to get a better look at your bare hips and thighs.

"You are the most beautiful creature I've ever seen," Geto whispers, pushing your leg up and out, so that you feel the cold air hitting you at the meeting of your thighs.

You blush and slide your hands into his soft hair. “I’m sorry, I’m just shy.”

“Understandably so,” he says, planting a kiss to your jaw. “But remember, I’ve already seen everything. God, it’s so much different to actually touch you.”

You nod and gasp as his hand moves to hover over your cunt, that had been getting wetter by the second.

You can feel the presence of his hand without him even making physical contact, and you nearly buck your hips to break the gap.

“So touch me,” you hum, desperately ready to experience pleasure that wasn’t self-inflicted.

"Okay, eager angel," Geto smiles. "Ready?"

You bite your lip, "What are you going to do?”

He chuckles, "Just getting you warmed up for now, okay? You don’t have to do anything for this part.”

You nod up at him, trusting, and then in another silky breath his fingers come down on your clit - without even searching for it. Your body has no choice but to spasm against his, as his soft fingers begin to slide across your bud like a bow on a violin.

He circles the spot and you cry out instantly, lips still dangerously close to his, but not quite touching. His own lips are parted as he burns his eyes into your face, watching the different ways your pleasure manifests in your features.

"Hngh - Geto," you murmur, your fingers now curling into the roots of his hair.

"Mhmm," Geto sighs back, planting his lips on yours again, this time shoving his wet tongue into your mouth and using it to suck on yours.

You writhe against his touch, unsure how you'd survived this long without this kind of pleasure. It seems Geto had been waiting his entire life to do this, he's so good at it.

You start to roll your hips against his hand and his fingers pick up pace, circling faster, your moans getting louder.

"Pretty girl," Geto praises, after pulling his mouth away from yours. "That feel good?"

You can do nothing but nod desperately, wanting to tell him that the pace he's at right now is perfect, that you feel heat bubbling in your pelvis, but the words won't come.

His fingers are coated in your juice now, he slides them down your folds and back up to your clit, and you almost lose your mind.

Then, his fingers go back down and his long middle finger pushes into your entrance the same way you put your own before. Although, his hand is much larger, and thus his finger fills you so much better.

Your head falls back deeper into the pillows and Geto takes the opportunity to pepper sloppy kisses all over your neck and collar, holding his mouth at times just to make you squirm.

His finger pumps shamelessly in and out of you, going knuckle deep, curling into the squishy roof of your pussy. You feel your hips pulling back from him but he follows you with his wrist.

“Just relax,” he purrs. “Let me make you feel good, repay you for all you’ve done for me.”

You nod obediently and allow your wet inner muscles to relax around him, and he notices, giving you a warm “that’s it” in your ear.

“T-Thank you,” you rasp, pulling his head to your face by his hair.

Your noses touch as you share breath, his hips dry-grinding into yours as his finger harasses your cunt. His pace quickens then slows. He takes note of the way you get louder and nearly burst into tears when he pushes a second finger inside, and begins slamming both members in, his palm hitting your wet clit with each stroke.

“Oh, angel,” Geto coos, “can already tell you’re gonna gonna do so good for me. Huh? Aren’t you?”

“Y-yes,” you hiss. “I-I’ll do whatever you want.”

“Good to hear,” he rasps against your mouth before giving you a needy kiss.

He repeats his quick, deep pumping with his wrist until an unholy wave rumbles through your nerves and your body shakes against him - moaning wildly into his mouth. The rain on the roof begins to fall harder and nearly drowns out your noise.

“Ah - ah, shit,” you whimper as he fingers you through your orgasm.

“Yes, pretty girl, you got it,” he praises, catching your moans in his mouth as your thighs shake and your back twitches on and off of the mattress.

"Mmh - so wet," he adds, pulling out his fingers and tapping them together; revealing a clear, sticky string of secretion between them.

You blink in disbelief, had you done that?

What happens next nearly makes your soul shatter. Geto brings the two fingers to his lips and licks them clean, purple eyes watching you every second that he does so.

He releases his fingers from his mouth with a pop! and plants a kiss on your nose.

"Now, you're all ready," he says with a satisfactory nod. "It's been a really long time since I've done this; I'm glad that it's going to be with you."

You smile up at him, legs still twitching as your clit tries to come down from your high. “You’re so good at it,” you quiver. “‘M glad y’gonna be my first.”

“Maybe even your last,” he says, soft enough you fear that you may have imagined it.

You drop your hands from his hair and slide them down over his sweater collar and instead change the subject. "Aren’t people usually naked for this?"

Geto grins, "Yes, my bad. I'm used to already being naked."

You giggle as he parts his body from yours, only for a second, then he slides his shirt off his body and shakes his hair loose, before discarding the garment to a random corner of the room.

Your hands immediately find his bare, chiseled skin. Albeit soft, the muscles underneath are rigid, and he's covered in tiny white scars that paint a small piece of his entire portrait.

His eyes don't leave you as his hands move to pull your nightdress over your head. Now the two of you lay topless, skin to skin, the only thing separating you being his shorts.

His hand glides mindlessly down your side, resting on your hip. "Just breathtaking," he murmurs, planting a kiss to the crook between your shoulder and neck.

You shake your head. "That's all you. Whoever cursed you must have known that seeing your beauty all twenty-four hours a day would be too much for the world to handle."

Geto cracks a laugh, his eyes crinkling with genuine adoration and happiness.

He doesn’t say another word before he tugs down his shorts, and they join the growing pile of clothes on your bedroom floor. Now he’s back to laying gently between your legs, careful not to crush you with his weight.

Your eyes widen as his length pops out, smacking his abdomen before falling forward from how much it appears to weigh. You’d seen it the day before, of course, but it hadn’t been… erect. You are amazed at the sheer difference in size, and quite frankly intimidated.

“What’s wrong?” Geto wonders, lifting your chin to look at him.

“Th-that’s gonna fit inside of me?” you ask, blinking out of embarrassment.

Geto nods slightly, “Yes, believe me, angel. You can take it, it’s not as scary as it looks.”

You stretch your knees apart so they aren't digging into his sides, and you feel that hard part of him brush against your cunt.

A small gasp flies from your mouth, as your body shudders, and Geto calmly relaxes you with his soft hands massaging your sides, burying his face in your neck.

“A-Are you sure?” you ask.

"I’m gonna need you to kiss me, and focus on breathing, okay?" He speaks against the skin on your neck before planting a kiss to your jaw, then your cheek, then the corner of your mouth.

"Okay, I can do that," you nod nervously, wrapping your arms his neck.

He sits up a bit to stare at you, faces barely inches apart. The rain still patters against the roof mercilessly in the background, occasional thunder claps landing in the distance, mirroring the thump of your heart in your ribcage.

His hand that isn't being used to hold himself up is sliding between your legs, where he grips his cock, then begins sliding it on your slick, lathering himself up.

Your back comes a bit off of the mattress, stomach sliding against his torso.

“Hngh - oh," you mumble, and Geto cuts you off with a peck.

"Don't tense up, angel," he mutters against you. "Hold on to me, don't let go."

You nod against his lips, still shuddering. He taps the surprisingly heavy head on your clit, his wetness and yours creating a smack! noise.

“Tell me you’re ready,” he requests as he takes the tip of his cock and presses it at your entrance, not applying pressure yet.

“I’m ready, Geto,” you say desperately.

As much as you are scared, you’re also ready to feel him, to please him. To be as close as two humans can possibly be.

"Deep breath," he whispers, dipping his face.

You lift your chin to grab his mouth and bite down on his bottom lip as he pushes past your gummy threshold, feeling as your walls mold to the shape of his cock and swallow him up.

You try to keep your eyes open just to see the way his own roll to the back of his head as he pushes in, but the burning at your core makes your eyes squint shut as your nails dig into his back.

“Sh-shit,” he grumbles against your bite, as his hand jerks to find something to grip on, ultimately settling for the pillow next to your head.

“G-Geto, it-” hurts, feels good, burns, is exhilarating. All of these things are entering your mind as he enters you.

He gets about halfway deep and you feel yourself clenching around him, trying to relax, but it’s hard when it’s scary and a bit painful. It’s not the first time something has been inside of you, but this feeling is raw and unique, and he’s so much bigger than anything you’d ever put in there.

He pauses for a moment and you release his mouth from your teeth so that he can prop up on his elbow, and he looks down at you in amazement.

“Doing amazing so far, beautiful,” he praises, placing his palm on your cheek and stroking away the stray tear that is falling from your eye. “How do you feel?”

You nod your head, unsure for a moment if you can speak. “G-Good. J-Just trying to adjust.”

“It’s okay, take your time,” he plants a kiss to your earlobe before whispering, “let me know when you want me to keep going.”

You keep your hands on his back, then slide them down his arms, before dropping them behind your head.

Geto glances up, then takes his own hands up the side of your body and your arms before meeting his hands with yours and linking your fingers together.

You sigh against this touch. He’s no longer hovering over you and you are chest to chest, erect nipples brushing his chest. He buries his face in your neck and awaits your command.

“Go,” you whisper softly, and he does not hesitate to grind his hips further into yours.

Now, his cock is filling you from wall to wall, entrance to cervix. Your legs are shaking on either side of him as you stretch, ecstasy consuming you and making your brain turn to mush.

Geto’s wet mouth smacks sloppy kisses all over your neck as he pulls his hips back to begin his rhythmic stroking.

You arch against him and cry out.

“Mmh, feels so good,” is all you manage to mumble in his ear, and he responds by grazing your neck with his teeth.

The rain swooshes against the window in time with your cunt’s squelches, as you drip all over Geto’s length and down onto the mattress.

“Y’so p-perfect,” Geto whines against your neck, and for several moments he pumps silently and softly into your core, driving you to a feeling you’d never thought was possible.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

His hips roll with the howl of the rain, slowly but deep. Your wooden bed creaks in his wake, adding to the symphony of sex in the room.

“Faster,” you hear yourself moan in his ear, and his hips pick up momentum.

They clap against your skin softly as he works harder to slam his cock against your taut insides.

“So warm,” he mumbles, propping himself up to look down at you, and you grip onto his hands tighter. “Shouldn’t feel th-this good.”

You grunt out a pathetic cry as his new pace results in him hitting a new spot, one he continues to press into upon hearing your response to it.

“Oh, shit,” you whimper. “Oh shit, Geto, right there.”

“Right there?” he echoes in a silky tone, pinning your hands further into the pillows as he fucks harder into you, still maintaining his soft kisses along your jaw.

Now that the pain is disappearing, ecstasy consumes all of your thoughts, and it seems to come naturally to you what to do next.

You pull your legs up and wrap them around his back, linking your ankles just over his waistline, and it creates a new angle for Geto to pound you from.

“Hngh - oh,” Geto’s eyelids flutter. He’s hitting another new spot that makes you feel like your groin is going to explode. “Pretty girl, I don’t wanna finish so soon, but if you keep me like this…”

“Don’t care,” you shake your head, wanting to feel what it’s like to be filled with the aftermath of a man’s orgasm. “Wanna take it all.”

“Don’t say - mmh,” Geto cuts himself off and dips his head back into your sweaty neck. “God, I… I think I love you.”

You gasp at his sultry confession. Of course, you had been taking care of him for a while. Though you hadn’t known his human form for long, he’d known you. He was the first person you’d come across in a long time, but in all your life, absolutely the kindest. Was it really that insane to think the two of you could be… in love?

“I-I love you too,” you reply without much thought, using the leverage on your legs to grind yourself down onto him as he pumps.

Your wetness covers his groin which has the underside of your thighs soaked, nearly sticking the two of you together as his strokes become sloppier, wetter, his cock drenching your insides in precum.

You feel him squelching around inside of you, stretching your poor virgin walls to their peak, wringing immeasurable pleasure from deep in your guts.

“Hah - mm,” Geto whines, now mercilessly drilling as deep as he can go.

It hurts but you’re taking it so well, and it shows in the way Geto is mumbling praises in your ear.

Good girl, so good, so wet, mon amour, take it.

He lets out a deep groan and then, he’s grabbing your knees and unwrapping your legs from around him. In a flash, he has you flipped to your side, and he slides behind you, as if you were back in your cuddling position from this morning.

“Just needed to switch it up,” he mumbles in your ear, kissing your shoulder.

“Mm, what are you gonna do?” you question him, and he shows you when he slides his cock between your coated thighs and pulls a gasp from you.

His hand finds your hip and grips it. “Tell me if you don’t like it, we’ll go back to the other way, yeah?”

You nod, but there’s a twist in your stomach at this exciting new angle, as Geto lifts your leg up and holds the underside of your thigh in the air. You twist backwards to put your arm around his neck, and he kisses yours.

“‘Member what I said?” he reminds raspily in your ear, “just hold onto me. I’ve got you.”

“Please, just put it back already,” you whine needily, and Geto doesn’t hesitate to push himself back into your crying hole.

This new angle hits you deep in your belly. Geto’s hand flattens out over your lower stomach and presses down. Inside of your guts, Geto’s cock is jerking hungrily, needing to feel every inch of you sliding back onto him again.

Your eyes squeeze shut as your fingers entangle themselves in his hair.

He keeps his hold on your thigh, his chin on your shoulder, biting and licking and moaning into your ear.

“S-So good, angel,” he huffs out, and all you can do is whimper as he grinds his thin hips into your backside.

“Ngh - kitty,” you whine, “where’d y-you learn this?”

Geto responds by kissing your shoulder. He doesn’t say anything aloud, instead shuts you up by fastening his pace, thundering into you in competition with the lightning from the rainstorm.

His hand glides down the side of your body and takes a handful of your ass, digging his nails into it as if he is going to slip away.

“I… regrettably think I’m gonna c-cum,” Geto stammers.

Something overcomes you, and you spin around, still on his cock. His perfect lips form a shocked, ‘O’ shape, and you put your hand against his throat, softly, applying a slight amount of pressure to each side. You adjust your legs to be on either side of him.

“Cum for me,” you mutter, shocking yourself, and Geto’s response is a guttural, pathetic groan.

“Why’d you have to - hngh - nooo-“

And not a moment more passes before he’s hopelessly spilling into you, cock jerking against the top of your sticky walls, nails breaking open the skin on your hips as you round them over his cock to drag out every drop you can.

The warmth of his cum inside of you makes your body writhe, squeezing his length painfully as your own orgasm comes intensely - covering him in watery fluid.

“G-Geto, I’m-” you can’t get the word out, you are shocked but have no way of telling him due to how fucked out you currently are.

“Agh - so beautiful,” he mumbles, bringing his strokes to a conclusion. He remains inside of you for several unearthly moments, your cunt twitching around his shakey cock.

Then you use the leverage of your legs around his waist to push yourself up and down, up and down.

Geto’s eyes bulge and then roll backwards. “Oh, oh shit.”

Your hands grip onto his shoulders for more leadway.

“Does that feel good?” you question him, a little unsure why you’ve decided to do this, knowing he’s already cum inside of you.

“Y-Yes,” Geto grumbles, leaning forward to plant a sloppy, needy kiss against your mouth before he parts his lips and holds them there - so fucked and barely able to contain his moans. “D-Do y’even know what you’re doing?”

Your body is tingling with the leftover feeling of your orgasm as you slide down on Geto in this laying position, and having him still hard inside of you does feel weird but - you like it.

“No,” you answer honestly. “I-It just feels good.”

Geto nods desperately, “Don’t stop, please.”

You obey his wish by sliding faster, feeling your walls pulsate around his cock as you push both of you beyond your limits. Whoever said sex had to end with orgasms is a loser, you think.

“Geto, you filled me up so well,” you say, “s-so glad you were m-my first.”

Geto looks up and forces his eyes open. He smiles at you through gritted teeth, “I-I’m glad too, m-mon amour.”

Him stuttering like this is doing dangerous things to your cunt, causing you to gush and pool on him even more than before. Geto notices and grabs a handful of your hair.

“O-Okay,” he shudders, and begins to laugh. “Maybe - maybe we can stop now.”

“Hmm? You sure?” you tease, and he shakes his head.

“No, but don’t know if I can take it,” his smug laughter has faded back into pathetic whimpers, and your cunt hates the thought of not being able to hear these noises from him.

You sigh softly regardless, and smile at him, before halting your movements and laying there; his cock now covered in cream and cum, stagnant inside of you.

He takes the pause to catch his breath and there you stay, cock inside, arms intertwined.

He releases your hair and puts his palm on your cheek, pulling your face towards his to kiss him.

“Perfect,” he says. “I wish that I could spend all twenty-four hours as a human with you.”

You sigh softly, “I do too. But I am glad we even get to know each other in this lifetime, let alone spend the time together.”

A moment too soon, he begins to slide out of you with a smile and both of you moan at the gushy feeling. He sits up on his elbow and stares directly between your legs to watch his cum drip out of you.

Then he sits all the way up, on his knees; his hair sticking to the crown of his face by sweat.

You lay there, all kinds of fluids dripping slowly out of you still, breathing in his scent that he’d left behind on the pillow.

“Geto, did you mean what you said?” you ask suddenly, forcing yourself to sit up, your insides squishing around, a slight pain jarring up your tummy.

Geto glances down at you, eyes still dark with lust. “About what?”

“That you love me,” you question, cocking your head to the side. “We’ve only known each other a short time, I-I just…”

“I meant it,” he says softly, falling onto his bottom, before pulling you up on onto his lap, his fluids and yours dripping all over him. “I think that if you are capable of feeling such strong things so quickly, it must be real and true.”

Your eyelids flutter softly and you wrap your arms around his shoulders, running your fingers down his back.

“It’s just that I’ve never had anyone love me for me,” you say. “I literally live alone because no one else ever accepted me.”

“Well,” Geto nuzzles your neck and kisses your collarbone, “I am equally a delinquent as you are. We are one in the same, and I think you are perfect for me. You showed me kindness when you didn’t have to, so yes, I love you.”

You smile, in your happy little post-ecstasy bubble. The rain pours still, and the clouds remain grey, but as long as Geto is around, you know that will always be able to see the sun.

A/N

why…. why am i SOBBING

this is the life our little baby deserved (with gojo) goodbye!!

and that concludes JJK HALLOWEEN! let’s take a bow everyone, i couldn’t have done it without your support!!

jjkhalloween!! is gonna forever be remembered as the series that got me jump started on this platform and im gonna remember the absolute fun I had writing it for the rest of my days :’)

this community is so welcoming and sweet and i love all of you guys and your kind words and reblogs it means EVERYTHING to my poor little jjk heart even if i’m a boomer who doesn’t know how to reply!1!1!

mwah mwah, now onto new things!!! <3

~ pennjammin

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk fanfic #jjk geto #geto suguru #geto x reader #jujutsu geto #jjk suguru #getou suguru x reader #suguru geto smut

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queenendless · 11 months

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😷🤒Sick Day(Adult!SatoSugu x Sick!Fem!Reader)🤒😷

A/N: Yep this is part of that SatoSugu Teacher AU alongside Moving Day and Nights.

Also, announcement. I have smut writing fatigue after just putting out one and I'm down with a cold right now. So that vampire AU gang bang piece is happening next month. I'm so sorry for this yall. Thanks though to everyone who commented on that and helped me decide.

But I will hopefully be posting a JJK Halloween piece to make up for it. A headcannon/ imagined scenario where the JJK cast celebrate Halloween with my ideal fave pairings in couples costumes and such in this what if AU. And yas it gonna be SatoSugu x Fem or GN reader, idk on that part yet.

All credit for JJK and its characters goes to the madman that is Gege.

* Please DON'T plagarize, translate, or repost my FANFIC content. Reblog, like, and follow instead.

I hope you enjoy!

Your throat feels raw.

Your nose feels stuffy.

And you kept coughing every few minutes.

You should have figured spotting a curse forming from a virus epidemic happening in the hotel across the street would pose a high ass risk of getting infected yourself.

But as a Window, it was your job, as life risking as it was.

The more people inside and around the building got infected, the Grade 4 grew closer to Grade 3. If it kept up, dozens upon hundreds would die.

"Ijichi-san. Disease curse. Transitioning from Grade 4 to Grade 3. Requesting sorcerer help here immediately." You struggled speaking over the phone as you kept coughing, dispatching the address to him, seeing the revolting curse grow in size as its toxic presence spilled, tripping as you tried keeping your distance.

Your head was pounding and you could barely focus as Ijichi-san panicked on his end.

"L/n-san!? L/N-SAN!"

In a moment of ailment, you dropped your phone, causing it to disconnect from the impact.

You were barely able to keep a grip on your phone or walk without faltering as you felt more drained with each passing moment. You blinked a lot as you tried staying alert, stumbling before collapsing against a parked empty vehicle on the street, sliding down to your bum just to rest your aching head against your knees, hugging your legs to your chest.

That curse's smogs began spreading down the streets, into traffic, and nearby occupied establishments.

Believing help wouldn't get here in time through the systematic process, you opted for your wild card, shakily picking up your now cracked screen device.

"Toru. Curse problem. Get here ASAP. Please." Texting the address in your feverish haste, you pressed send before curling in on yourself, welcoming sleep to rest your aching self.

In just under the next few minutes — more like moments — you felt a boom in the cursed energy atmosphere, that curse no longer being sensed. At last, it was done.

The shift from freezing metal to cozy soft fabric stirred you awake a bit. Along with the feel of solid warm arms draped around your shoulders and under your knees. Those big smooth hands squeezing your shoulder and your kneecap had you tugging weakly on the front of that top, pressing your face against your makeshift pillow, struggling to open your eyes as your hearing painted the picture for you in the meantime.

"A majority will spend weeks recuperating. The ones closest to the cause will spend months in the hospital at best. Still though, no casualties. Thank you for the help." High chances it was one of the many medics on site for post cleanup.

"You can thank the young woman here for that. She was the first responder, after all. I'll tend to her recovery myself. Sayonara." You know that voice right away, even when he was muffled, relaxing further in his hold.

"This cold isn't going away anytime soon. Too bad reversed cursed techniques don't make the common cold go away." Your half lidded eyes still had him swooning at how frail and precious you were in his arms.

You murmured, noticing him in his black long sleeved top, matching sweatpants, and face mask with the blindfold. "Blindfolded giant." That's when you realized a face mask was put on you as well, your muffled coughs hitting cloth.

You could already picture him beaming, grinning, as he laughed a bit.

"Correction. Your blindfolded giant, darling~ Now then, let's get you home."

°•○•°•○•°•○•°

Geto typing away on his computer, working on his latest reports.

Gojo straddling his lap, hugging him as he napped against his dear best friend slash hubbie.

The former smiling fondly at the motion before picking up where he left off was their situation before both men's phones began vibrating and ringing.

"Geto-san! L/n-san has reported a disease curse spotting! But she was cut off before I could get further details!"

"She just texted me the location." The sleepiness was wiped away, replaced with firm seriousness, as Gojo started getting off of him to get some shoes on.

"Ijichi-san, do not fret. Satoru will handle the curse." Geto calmly responded over the phone before speaking concerningly to his snowy-haired hubbie. "Toru, bring a face mask in case the affected area reaches where you land post teleport."

Said man smooched his hubbie in kind before slipping on the black face mask to match his current apparel. "Wait up for us, Sugu~"

Seeing you both back, teleporting into your home office, Suguru smooched Satoru the moment he took that face mask right off. Pressing the back of his palm against your forehead to double check for a fever, Suguru's dismay was warranted.

So being there when you awoke from your fever dream tucked in the middle of your guys' giant bed meant Suguru patting your now sweating forehead with a wet rag, you trembling from chills raking your skin followed by feeling warmer the next minute as you coughed into a tissue he handed to you.

"Well dearest, you've got yourself a nasty cold here." Suguru noted with a gray face mask on as well, seated by you on his side of the bed.

"Ah bah." Your raspy spat earned you a cough into your fist before you were offered a filled up water bottle by Satoru who was sitting behind you on his side; blindfold off but face mask back on.

"Welp, I exorcized the curse and brought your cute self back here. Plus I got that report to work on in your precious stead. So you're welcome." He gently ran his fingers through your hair to ease you in whatever way he could.

"Thank you Toru." You slowly sat up and were then handed some cold pills by Suguru to down some water with. "Thank you Sugu."

"Now that we've made our home Ground Zero, you are hereby confined to this room. Drink plenty of fluids. Take your medicine. Get lots of rest. Do you hear me, young lady?" Suguru's smart ass tone made you pout.

"Yes mom." You murmured raspy.

Satoru snorted behind his face mask to which Suguru whacked him in the shoulder across from him with narrowed eyes. "At least Megumi and the twins are living in the dorms now and Tsumiki was able to convince her classmate to stay at her place for a while. Meaning we three have the place to ourselves~"

"Does that mean … I have to sleep by myself?" You whimpered, cracking their resolve. "Neither the Gojo Geto bears, nor the Gojo Geto cats, not even the Gojo Geto giant round plushies can substitute for the real deal." You moped, pointing at said custom made toys lined up on the window seat on the far side of the room.

"Aww, Suguru, how can we deny our lovely sweetheart the company of her valiant handsome knights in the flesh, huh~!?" Satoru dramatized his own cries, muffled though.

Suguru sighed, consigning. "At least one of us should. Who else will be teaching the first years in the meantime?"

"Round robin, then? Last one left standing tends to that noble martyr and gets our dear sweetheart to be their own personal nurse in the end … huh …" That hum and those inquiring eyes could only bode mischief. "I volunteer Suguru to go first!"

"Not gonna happen, Satoru." He immediately denied.

"But to be fed by, bathed by and be doted on by our angel is heaven sent~!" Satoru gushed.

"Which is why you shouldn't be the only one getting that special treatment!" Suguru being jealous at possibly being left out on that.

"Hey!" Your strained shout ends in a coughing fit, curled up in bed, sniffling to which Suguru hands you a big enough tissue to blow your nose in. "I'm dying here."

"Hmm … Yu could fill in." Satoru suggested.

"He is working as a teaching aid part time. And he did say he could help out whenever we needed it." Suguru added.

"Plus Nanamin is on a business trip for the week~ He'll need something to do while waiting for his beloved's return~!" Satoru teased.

"That settles it then." Suguru was smirking behind that mask, you could just tell.

"How lucky you are, darling, to have the strongest duo be your own personal nurses~" Satoru was so smirking his ass off.

"Even though you'll literally get sick of me?" You shyly asked, squeezing your bottle, apprehensive.

"We have strong ass immune systems, Y/n. Comes with over a decade of immense training." Satoru prided on, kissing your flushed cheek.

"If we can risk ourselves in the face of death as sorcerers, this is nothing." Suguru assured, kissing your other flushed cheek. "I'll call Haibara."

"I'll start up a bath for us all. Thank you big ass bathtubs." Satoru clapped to that.

"What do I do?" Even when sick, tilting your head and batting those eyes made the duo smooch your lips at once.

"Just be a good little patient for us, alright, honey?" God that wink of Suguru's left you more hot than usual as he walked off to make that call.

"Besides, being sick with you means being granted a sick leave and getting paid for it! Ah, thank you, my darling sweetheart~!" Satoru did hug you, nuzzle his face in your hair, and left you a wheezing mess.

"Y - You're w - welcome!"

Well, on the bright side, at least you'll all be sick together.

Snuggled in bed, among discarded tissues, wrappers of cough drops, and smooshed in one big embrace of entangled limbs while binging nothing but sitcoms, movies, and anime.

You would eventually get better in a week's time then later tend to your two enamored, affectionate partners and get them back into tip top shape.

But until then, being in their cozy arms, sleeping smack dabbed in between them, that might as well be the key on your quick road to recovery.

The SatoSugu cure, indeed!

2K notes · View notes

vilsoo · 3 months

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‎ 𝑽𝑰𝑳𝑺𝑶𝑶 𝑷𝑹𝑬𝑺𝑬𝑵𝑻𝑺…

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‎ 𖤐 ORDER YOUR TICKETS HERE 𖤐 ‎ ֺ [ taglist ]

𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐈𝐒 𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐘; 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐋𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘… Inspired by Universal Studios Halloween Horror Nights, indulge in sex and horror galore at our premiere Kinktober event, HORRORLAND! Would you dare venture our haunted houses, experience our exhilarating attractions, and uncover the scandalous, deadly mysteries of Horrorland?

fandoms: jujutsu kaisen, spiderman atsv, fnaf, re4, codmw2.

𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐎𝐎𝐍 𝐎𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒

ㅤ ↓ 𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐖 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒 (𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓) ↓

FRIDAYS🩸 we welcome our fellow monster fuckers into this territory! deadly creatures preying on their victims, serving their lustful fantasies with wild, animalistic urges! your arousal and fear may provoke them further, so beware of the woods…

𖤐 𝐎𝐂𝐓 𝟒𝐓𝐇: ❝ 𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐁𝐎𝐘 ❞ starring GHOST!LEON KENNEDY (re4)

who is this irresistible creature who has an insatiable love for the dead… and ghosts?

⚠︎ CW: mentions of stalking, slight ooc leon, angst, hurt/comfort, haunted vacation home, voyeurism, paranormal activity, sex with a ghost, gentle → rough smut, mirror sex, switchy!leon, 1980s setting.

𖤐 𝐎𝐂𝐓 𝟏𝟖𝐓𝐇: ❝ 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐄 ❞ starring WEREWOLF!MIGUEL O’HARA (atsv)

during the bloodmoon on halloween, your werewolf boyfriend feels a rapacious urge to knock you up.

⚠︎ CW: established relationship, miguel in heat, rough sex, soft sex, marking, biting, possession, breeding, knotting, impregnating, degrading/praising, power struggle, multiple orgasms, 1980s setting.

𖤐 𝐎𝐂𝐓 𝟐𝟓𝐓𝐇: ❝ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐉𝐄𝐂𝐓 ❞ starring RYOMEN SUKUNA (jjk)

a camping trip you planned with your friends turns out to be a total nightmare, all caught on camera…

⚠︎ TW: suspense, horror/thriller themes, gruesome murder, gore, ritual sex, demon sex, satanism, sadism, betrayal, teratophilia, size kink, double penetration, plot twist, ib the blair witch project (1999), 1980s setting.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

SATURDAYS 🍷 the depths of hell fall on this dark and gloomy city bound to corruption and sin, known as the devil’s playground! lurking within the streets beholds the prurient reigns of terror that which may also arouse parkland guests…

𖤐 𝐎𝐂𝐓 𝟓𝐓𝐇: ❝ 𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐎𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 ❞ starring NANAMI KENTO (jjk)

with you and your boyfriend being a regular at this fancy restaurant, the owner became very fond of you…

⚠︎ TW: cannibalism, chef/restaurant owner nanami, poisoning, murder, infidelity/cheating, eventual smut, kitchen sex, unprotected sex, jealousy, dark obsession, slight stalking, gore, mutilation.

𖤐 𝐎𝐂𝐓 𝟏𝟐𝐓𝐇: ❝ 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊 𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐃 ❞ starring WILLIAM AFTON (fnaf)

as the new intern and your boss developing a dark obsession over you, he feels the need to corrupt you…

⚠︎ TW: dubcon, mind control (glitchtrap virus), sadism, murder, psychological abuse, manipulation, predator/prey dynamic, implied age gap, degradation, eventual rough smut, mentions of vanny mask.

𖤐 𝐎𝐂𝐓 𝟐𝟔𝐓𝐇: ❝ 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐘 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐀𝐁𝐑𝐄 ❞ starring CHOSO (jjk)

accidentally bringing a girl back from the dead may have been horrifying, but falling in love with her..?

⚠︎ CW: horror/romcom themes, implied necrophilia (NO intercourse), college au, accidental ritual, romance, mentions of murder, suggestive smut, inspired by lisa frankenstein (2024) and corpse bride (2005).

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FOR OUR HALLOWEEN SPECIAL . . . not only are you immersed into the stories of our attractions, you get the real experience of being a parkland guest having a fun time at Horrorland with friends! but as thrilling as it all sounds, there are many scandals and articles of what really goes down…

𖤐 𝐎𝐂𝐓 𝟑𝟏: ❝ 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓, 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋? ❞ HEADLINE: PARKLAND VISITOR CAUGHT HAVING INTERCOURSE WITH A SCARE ACTOR!

flirting has become a common fear response when encountering hot masked scare actors chasing you at halloween events. this scandal covers a parkland visitor fawning over the hot scare actor in the Deathgasm haunted house, König, resulting in them flirting and sneaking off together…

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⚠︎ 𝐁𝐞𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐬 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬. 𝐇𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐱𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠. ⚠︎

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𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐒 𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎 𝐕𝐈𝐋𝐒𝐎𝐎 © 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒. please do not steal my kinktober prompts/works/themes! reposting any of my works outside tumblr that minors can access is strictly prohibited. will be cross posted on my ao3 soon.

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megumishotgf · 11 months

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fic recommendations ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ

here are some of my favourite fics currently!! yes most of them are smutty because i am a whore!! ♡

featuring: megumi, satoru, suguru, katsuki (+ a little yuuta + mikasa) credits to all these beautiful writers - pls check them out!! masterlist fic recs pt. ii pt. iii

: ̗̀➛ megumi fushiguro x reader

possessive megumi is tired of other men thirsting over you, including toji and satoru (fic: incredible... i come back to this all the time.)

first kiss with gumi leads to another first (fic: smutty but also so intimate i love it)

you ask megumi to rail you after ur ex cheats (he fucks you so good omg. part two of the fic this is the smutty part)

y/n is pregnant and craving donuts (manga spoilers, a little angsty but mostly cute fluff!!)

you worry megumi doesn't love you. he does (don't worry not angsty so cute and fluffy makes my heart swell!!)

late night call w/ gumi who is so crazy in love with you (im crying i love him)

clueless inspired stepcest with gumi (adding this with no shame it's so so good. soft dom gumi my favourite)

"pretend i'm a random girl at a bar coming onto you" (established relationship. so fucking funny and witty. thank u so much author)

finger fucking you until you squirt omfg (i'm going insane)

weed dealer megumi headcanons (smutty towards the end i love this so much)

megumi protects you from an ass then fucks you in his car (i love protective men)

ditching school to blow your nerdy skater boy gumi (school a.u omg!!)

: ̗̀➛ satoru gojo x reader

satoru finds footage of his teen years with suguru, y/n and shoko (angsty fic: this is so beautiful and could make me sob)

mating press with satoru (holy shit... he loses control of his technique cumming inside... i'm in awe)

y/n is suguru's sister and hates toru but eventually they fuck (i was hollering reading this it's so good)

satoru needs help cutting his hair. almost goes bald (this is so funny and heartwarming. a blessing from tumblr)

drunk satoru cries about your pussy being so good then comes home to fuck you good (deleted ya’ll someone PLEASE send me this fic if it is elsewhere!!)

your clingy situationship w/ satoru (he's so soft and in love...)

: ̗̀➛ suguru geto x reader

suguru lets virgin! satoru fuck his gf (fic: so good holy shit. one of my favourite fics ever. suguru is so soft for his girl)

you're fucking your best friends' father (college a.u!! suguru gets jealous and fucks the brattiness out of you. so so good)

social media au w/ your bf geto!! (so cute and funny!! there is a gojo version too!!)

suguru finds you during your 'sad girl bathtub hours' (comfort!!)

squirting shamelessly in his face (dream)

weed dealer! suguru corrupts you (dumbification kink go crazy)

: ̗̀➛ katsuki bakugo x reader

katsuki doesn't understand how attractive he is (drabble: katsuki is so fine but he only has eyes for you)

you blow katsuki while getting his car washed (taylor swift playing omg? so hot)

your kid shows you a beautiful (ugly) drawing, katuski dies laughing (so fucking funny have you seen the similar tiktok!!)

: ̗̀➛ yuuta okkotsu x reader

vampire! yuuta soothes your period cramps... (u know what this means. incredibly written)

: ̗̀➛ BONUS: mikasa ackerman x reader

drug dealer! mikasa (headcanons: a little smutty, gunplay and robbing men)

: ̗̀➛ multiple characters (drabbles)

jjk men as chubby chasers !! (toji, yuuta, gumi + satoru) (fellow chubby girlies you will go crazy for this)

jjk men + halloween costumes (toji, satoru, nanami + suguru) (so funny and accurate!!)

#mha x reader #jjk x reader #bakugou x reader #gojou satoru x reader #geto suguru x reader #megumi x reader

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chosolala · 4 months

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⋆˚ʚɞ jjk halloween headcannon

here are just some of my silly headcannons on what i think the jujutsu kaisen guys would wear on halloween because i love halloween so much, some matching costumes too :) also fem!reader.

characters: gojo, geto, choso, toji, nanami, megumi, yuji, inumaki, yuta, maki

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ୨ ♱ ୧ ⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

satoru gojo

he would probably want to match with you

definitely a nerdy costume like anakin and padme (star wars) or fred and daphne (scooby doo)

he definitely acts like the character he’s dressed as all night

drags you out or to a halloweeen party definitely

suguru geto

i don’t think he’d go all out with a costume but if you wanted to match with him he’d definitely try his best

he just doesn’t want to look stupid

he’d probably put on animal ears or vampire teeth

he’s definitely your biggest admirer when he sees your costume and take a bunch of pictures for you

choso kamo

he would definitely wear whatever you want him to wear with him

i would say edward and kim thought (from edward scissorhands) or chucky and tiffany

he doesn’t really like dressing up but he wouldn’t say anything and he’d wear it anyway for you, especially when he sees how happy it makes you :)

you guys go to a halloween festival together

toji fushiguro

he DEFINITELY would NOT dress up with you 😭

he might let you do sfx makeup on him though

he’d probably encourage you to get a revealing and tight costume and give him like a fashion show when you guys get home

let’s just say you won’t be leaving the house on halloween night…..

kento nanami

he probably wouldn’t want to dress up but if you really want him to he would

maybe something like christine and erik from the phantom of the opera

he would also take you wherever you want to go, halloween party, park, festival, bar, anywhere.

he would probably suprise you with a cute halloween basket too with like candy and stuffed animals and stuff

megumi fushiguro

he would suggest costume ideas but whatever you want to wear he’ll agree to

he’d definitely let you sit in his lap and do his makeup

maybe something like grim and malaria or batman and catwoman (from billy and mandy)

he really doesn’t like parties but he’d go out to a festival with you

yuji itadori

he has the cutest costume ideas, he’s been waiting for this moment

these are literally my FAVS!! i can only imagine him as spider man so maybe miles morales and gwen (from into the spider verse) or like kiki and tombo (from kiki’s delivery service)

you guys take the cutest couple pictures before leaving to meet up with everyone else

he somehow gets double the amount of candy you get

toge inumaki

he probably wouldn’t take dressing up very seriously

he’d probably do something like the chef and the rat from ratatouille (he’s the rat) or beast boy and raven

he uses his cursed speech to get a bunch of candy then ends up leaving early with a stomach ache (karma for stealing from little kids 😭)

he also sneaks some of your candy when you aren’t looking

yuta okkotsu

cutest couple costumes ever without even trying

probably something like coraline and wybie or finn and princess bubblegum (or maybe flame princess idk) from adventure time

gojo takes a bunch of pictures like a proud dad because you guys look so cute

you guys go out to eat then go to a festival

maki zenin

she probably wouldn’t want to dress up but if it makes you happy she’d do it :)

maybe poison ivy and harley quinn or princess bubblegum and marceline costumes

she’ll take you to a festival with the others and wins you a bunch of candy

carries you home if your feet hurt from your heels

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kentopedia · 1 year

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♰ skipping heartbeats — nanami kento

.𖥔 ݁ ˖🕸️🕷.𖥔 ݁ ˖ KINKTOBER NO. 3 - curse user!nanami

nanami wants to see every jujutsu sorcerer dead, but he might make an exception just for you

contents. fem!reader, nsfw minors dni, sorcerer!reader, rough sex, slight overstimulation, begging, pet names, unprotected sex, villain nanami, jjk typical violence, tw mahito apperance :/, exes, angst, soft dom nanami, wall sex — 5.6k

He was never the same after Shibuya.

It's been two years, but you still remember that October with clarity. Memories blur at the back of your eyelids each night, carving images into your irises; each time you think you’ll get a full night of sleep, Nanami Kento returns to haunt your dreams, then lingers to steal your waking moments.

The change in him had been gradual, subdued. He’d hidden it well, so well, in fact, that everyone had believed that he was doing fine. Even you, the one who should’ve known him better than anyone, had never gotten him to reveal his darkest thoughts.

His succumb to madness was slow, but it was the consequence of a near decade. The burden of a sorcerer weighed heavily on everyone, but it hit Nanami the hardest, years and years of survivor’s guilt and misery bearing on his shoulders.

Then Halloween in Shibuya had happened; Nanami nearly lost his life, and something in him snapped. It wasn’t long after that he left. You haven’t seen him since.

Close to twenty-four months have passed since he disappeared, but his presence still lingers, twisting your world and your life into a den of chaos. No one is left at the school, and there are hardly any sorcerers left in Japan. Those who are still alive have moved anywhere but Tokyo, and those who stay know it won’t be long before they lose their lives too.

Your breath catches as you listen in silence, recounting every moment that led you here.

There is a scream from the other building, listlessly crying for help, but you won’t reach them in time, nor do you have the power to fight back. Despite your endless intelligence, your technique isn’t built for combat. It isn’t a threat to semi-grade one curses, and it certainly isn’t a threat to Nanami Kento.

You squeeze your eyes shut, slumping against the wall as you hold your arm, a bloodied wound seeping through your sleeve. There is no one here to heal you, no one left to help. Shoko moved away from the school months ago, once she realized that too many sorcerers are dying and Gojo is never coming back.

After that, many of the students left too; save for the few third years that had been determined to stay and fight.

The scream sounds again, before it’s cut off, abruptly. Another student gone. Another sorcerer dead.

You’d been such a fool to think you could take the place of people like Yaga, Gojo, Nanami; that you could bring together the last remaining sorcerers in the city. They’d been ones to look up to, strong and steadfast, but you are neither of those things.

You are the weak one who’d managed to stay alive, and the last person that probably should’ve.

Still, you persist, not giving into death so easily. There has to be an escape route; if you can’t save the students, maybe, just maybe, you can save yourself. There is still hope, as long as just one sorcerer is left in Tokyo. The school can be rebuilt, the curses can be exorcised, and things can go back to normal.

As long as you stay alive.

You listen, waiting for another sound before you move, attuned to your surroundings. The doors are shut, locking you in, and it’s too dark, too empty in the building for you to hide anywhere. Classrooms you’d once shared with Gojo open up like an endless chasm, the vending machine you got sodas from with Geto leers at you, and the hallways you’d kissed Kento in…

The memories are so soured.

You’re so close to the door, though. So close, and you can be free of the ghostly memories, and this time, you’ll leave Tokyo once and for all.

There is nothing left for you here now. With each day that passes, you start to realize more and more that no one is coming back. They’re all gone, and Nanami is not the man he’d once been.

You shuffle along the wall, trying to stay hidden in the shadows, away from the lights that flicker up above, destroyed by the veil of cursed energy. While your entire life has been a cacophony of evil, never before have you felt, so intensely, that you’re in a horror film. You are the final girl, ironically, without an ounce of heroine vigor.

All you have is a sliver of willpower to stay alive; just a few feet away, and you’ll be there, outside, able to escape from this pit of hell.

It’s so close—but not close enough.

“There you are!” a voice cries out, ringing like a jovial song through the hallways. It is eerily familiar, much too high-pitched and enthusiastic for such a brutal warzone. “We’ve been looking for you.”

You turn, shoulders stiff as you try hard not to freeze. Behind you, a young curse stands casually, his blue hair rolling over one of his shoulders, a stitched face smiling at you evilly. He’s pleased to see you, that much is obvious, and he prances over to you, fingers waving in the air.

“Oh, I can’t wait! I have to make you last because we’re running out of sorcerors to play with!” The tone is horrifyingly amused, more frightening than Geto in his final hours, of any of the clan higher-ups, even of Gojo at his absolute worst.

It’s the tone of someone who feels nothing, who cares about nothing, and who will enjoy watching you bleed.

You open your mouth, throat dry as you scramble for words, for a way to defend yourself. Three seconds stretch out into a minute while you contemplate, but Mahito is already upon you, his eyes flashing with excitement.

This would be it, wouldn’t it? How poetic that this wretched curse would be the one to kill you, after he took everything from you two years ago.

He advances; but something stops him, another aura. It’s not as powerful, but it’s much more commanding, much more human.

“Mahito.” The tone is forceful, flat, without any nuance of sound. It comes from behind you, and you stiffen, knowing from the simple string of letters who it is. The sound of the voice has something unfurling in your chest, choking you, rendering you helpless. “Don’t touch her.”

“Why?” Mahito whines, curling his fingers around your hair, his cursed face and energy too close, too frightening for you to move. “There’s no one left to kill. What am I supposed to do now?”

“Find something.” Nanami’s to you in just a few steps, and you can feel his presence behind you, the voice that slowly sneaks up on you. He smells the same as he did back then, and you squeeze your eyes shut, try to remember that he’s not Kento anymore, and whoever he is, you don’t love him.

You can’t.

“I’ll take care of her.”

Mahito grumbles, but after a few seconds of staring down Nanami, he leaves, skipping off to some other corner of the school. It’s disgusting how pleased he is by the murders he’s committed, but why shouldn’t he be? If his goal is to rid the world of sorcerers, he’s done quite well at accomplishing it.

Which meant every one of your students is dead. Which meant any remaining sorcerers are gone for good. There isn’t a jujutsu sorcerer left in Tokyo but you, and even though you need to call for help, no one can get here fast enough to save you.

Nanami, slowly, comes around to glower before you, standing too close, his breath ghosting your shoulders. You feel his gaze like daggers, dragging over every inch of you, regarding you with a thinly veiled disgust.

You’re not ready to face him, not after all the time you’ve been apart, but you don’t have a choice. He’s in front of you within seconds, looking down at you from the bridge of his nose, his hair mussed, but still in the same style that he’d worn two years ago.

It is, really, the only thing about him that hasn’t changed.

“How the hell did you end up back here?” That’s the first thing he says, the tone crazed and so opposite of the flat inflection his voice had always held. The sound leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, and you twitch, trying to keep your expression from shifting. Not even a simple greeting before he’s already mocking you, judging your poor choices, the ones that will get you killed.

You say nothing, but regard him with a dry mouth, letting your eyes drift across his broad shoulders, down his chest. He’s covered in blood, stained deep maroon—evidence of his murders, the color so different than the gore of curses.

The old beige suit is gone, replaced by an expensive black one, tailored perfectly to every angle of his body. Nanami has traded in the blue button-up for a crisp burgundy one, and though the tie is different, it’s recognizable.

You’d gotten him that tie for his 28th birthday, one of black silk embossed with flowers, tiny white ones woven within the vines. You’d purchased it on your trip abroad.

It makes you sick. You’re not sure how long you can look at him without expelling the contents of your stomach.

“You know,” he says, not waiting for you to answer as he walks around, swinging his weapon that is now used for evil. “I thought that maybe when I left, you’d decide to do something with your life.” His irises that are now so dark, nearly black, pin you. Gone, too, are the old glasses, exposing his severe, narrowed eyes. “You stayed in Tokyo to rot.”

“What choice did I have?” you ask, wishing you could speak without your voice cracking. Yet, when Nanami stalks you like prey, calculating, the familiar blade in his hands, you feel a flare of fear start up in your stomach.

You don’t know the man before you. He’s beautiful, as handsome as you remember. Yet, he stares at you with disdain, and he’s cruel, so cruel. His lips are hardened into a permanent scowl, seeping through his merciless laugh.

“Well,” Nanami stops pacing and stands in front of you, running a hand down the side of the cursed tool, thoughtful. “I had hoped you’d come with me, but I knew better than to ask. Your moral convictions would have prevented that, darling.” A smile drips with poison as your steadfastness falters, the name sliding smoothly off his tongue, something about it still so sweet, even with his malice. “You always were too good for me.”

That isn’t true, at least, not in your mind. He had been a good man once, the very best. Maybe you could’ve done something to stop this, to help him. Yet, as many times as you run it over in your mind, even you can’t pinpoint the exact moment he’d fallen.

“You’re right,” you say, grateful that your voice sounds a little stronger, a little harder. “I never would’ve come with you. You’ve killed our friends. You’ve killed children, Nanami.”

Something shifts between you; his eyes widen as he takes another pace forward, nothing but inches separating you. Against every intelligent cell in your body, your heart skips, breath catching at his proximity.

“Nanami?” he asks, eyebrows pulling together with a sigh. The air grows stagnant around you as he notices the lack of warmth behind your apathetic eyes. “Here I thought you’d still call me by my name. We did once share a bed after all.”

“That means nothing to me now,” you spit, wishing he would stop staring at you with such hunger. You’ve never been immune to him, and you’re not sure you are now, not sure that you won’t waver at his feet, if even out of panic. He’s so solid before you, a resolute being of power. Perhaps he’s even stronger now than he was before. “Look at you. I don’t know who you are.”

Nanami points the sword at your throat, and though it’s blunt, not sharp enough to do any damage, you still weaken in the knees, stare back at him with something akin to dread. Your eyes are wide, but your breath comes out steady as your hands shake by your sides.

“I’m the person who decided to do something, finally.” Nanami raises his voice, every word punctuated by years of repressed anger. “Sorcerers grumbled for decades, centuries, but no one made any effort to make a change.” His jaw clenches as he drops the weapon back down, sniffing with abhorrence. Nanami’s in your personal space, his breath hot on your cheeks, and you feel tears well up in your eyes, even when you’re not sure why. “Even Gojo Satoru, who claimed to hate the higher-ups, who saved Yuuji Itadori, did little. I’m the person who realized that nothing’s going to change, not unless the system is burned from the inside out.”

A twitch starts from your heels, rising as he glares down at you. His features are tense, every muscle in his body taut. Still, there’s something about him. There’s something about the way he’s wearing the tie you once bought him, as familiar as the tall, strong frame that leers over you.

“There’s none of us left, Nanami,” you say, blinking away those tears, even though he’s already spotted them, the corner of his lips quirking with a crazed glint to his eyes. “You’ve made sure of that.”

“Then a new order of sorcerers can build its way from the ground up.” Nanami leans forward, his face near yours as he cocks his head. “I’ve succeeded.”

You squeeze your fingers into your shirt, twisting them around the stiff cotton tightly. Your heel slips just one inch back, away from him, and the movement doesn’t go unnoticed by your ex-lover.

He scoffs, a smirk widening.

“What’s wrong?” Nanami says. A veiny hand snakes between you, and he cups your cheek with a softness that goes against every fiber of what he stands for. “Are you afraid of me?”

Your lips part, but words don’t come out. Instead, you blink up at him with glossy eyes, your heart hammering in your chest.

“You probably should be,” he continues, his fingers brushing your jaw, luring you in, a security blanket that he will snatch away once you get comfortable. “I’ve ruined your life.”

The room feels colder than it did before, as terror starts pressing down on you, your entire body shaking with anxiety. Still, your eyelids flutter at his touch, every cell within you reacting out of muscle memory, weakened by the killer’s touch.

“A life that you once promised to protect.”

He smiles, and it’s so cold, a rival only to the devil's, even though it ignites a flame in your chest. “Why do you think I saved you for last?”

Your eyes burn with tears.

“Still as pretty as I remember,” Nanami hums on the edge of a sigh, and his gaze darts all over your face, searching for a secret buried there. His tone is rough, but, somehow, there’s an ounce of affection there too, like a part of him is still holding onto the near decade you were together. It’s no consolation, but it gives you some satisfaction; at least it meant something. “You have a new boyfriend?”

You turn hot all over at the way he grins at you, watches the flush form on your face as your eyes fly open. Nanami has you in the palm of his hand, easily, and whatever happens, it’ll be up to him. “N-no,” you stutter, his thumb sliding over your mouth, knocking against your teeth.

His grin is wild, predatory. “I knew I’d ruined you for anyone else.”

A breath catches in your throat, and your chest rises and falls heavily from the wave of desire that goes straight to your stomach. You feel as if your knees might give out, that you might need to grab onto him, just to stand upright.

It’s sickening, and you hate yourself, hate how much you want him, even though he’s the one that killed the people you care most about.

“Kento?” you ask in a small voice. “Are you going to kill me?”

“I don’t know.” He softens, just a hair, and easily, he’s back to the man you remember, the sweet, caring one you thought you’d marry one day. “I probably should… but I think I might just fuck you instead.” The words are muttered against your lips, and you stumble forward, gripping his strong biceps, a feeble attempt to keep from puddling at his feet.

His face clears once again, stoic, and harsh. Maybe it’s all a ploy to get you in his arms, to weaken you even further, but you don’t care. You’ve missed him, you’ve missed him so much, and you’d die to kiss him one more time. The blood on his face doesn’t matter; nothing matters except how much you once loved him, the love that never went away, even in the times you wanted to hate him.

You wonder whether or not Satoru would sympathize if he was here. Maybe he’d understand why you never went after Nanami and holed yourself up in the school instead. Although you tried to protect your students, you could never act out of violence, and that had cost you everything.

You know you've made mistakes, perhaps more than anyone, but you can’t control your heart; it’s a heart that is caged by steely ribs, and still the possessor of your fragile mind.

“Kento,” you say, running your hands all over him, the muscles that have only hardened, grown with time. “I miss you.”

It’s nothing more than a whisper, but it still changes his entire demeanor, turns him into something desperate. Kento comes on twice as strong; every caress sends a wave of need through you. When you whimper, toppling under his gentle touches, he kisses you hard, pushes you backwards into the wall.

The taste of his lips is almost too much, a conflict of memories piling onto you, transporting you into a version of yourself that is two years younger, much more hopeful. You kiss him like you’re twenty-two, unsharpened by the world, because despite what you have suffered, life was better seven years ago than it is now.

The illusion is short-lived, though; Kento is rougher than he used to be, and he shoves you hard, bruises your lips. His tongue forces its way into your mouth, sloppy kisses smearing saliva all over your cheeks.

He may not be as kind as he once was, but you’ll never be able to deny your attraction for him.

“Fuck.” Kento unzips his slacks, palming at the bulge that already lies within the tight material. “Look what you do to me, baby.” It catches you off guard; he’s never called you that before, never sounded so lewd instead of loving. “Think I started getting hard the second I saw you. Remember the last time I was inside you?”

You groan against his lips, breathing heavily as you thread your smaller hands in his hair. He tastes like alcohol, and you know that he’s always enjoyed a drink, but it was never this prominent on his tongue. That observation alone makes you wonder what else about him has changed; if he sleeps on the same side of the bed now that you’re gone, if he likes to read just as much as before, if he still takes his coffee with just a splash of milk.

The thoughts hurt, searing a hole through your chest. You try to ignore them.

As you kiss, Kento manhandles you backwards, his fingers spread over your collarbones. Your back hits the wall, a ghoulish crack reverberating throughout the room. It hurts, but the pain is outweighed by the feeling of him all over your body, the sheer anticipation for him to touch you like you need.

“Want you,” you say, as his hands clamp around your delicate wrists, pinning them against the wall. Kento’s palms are so much bigger; he’s so strong that it’s devastating. You have no choice but to let him take from you, to kiss down your neck and leave a bruise you won’t be able to cover up in the morning. “Please.”

“Dirty girl,” he laughs, breathless against your throat, the sound vibrating against the strained tendons there. Hastily, he spins you around, forces your face into the wall, your chest pressed into it. Your cheek is cold, smashed into your bone against the plaster. “I’ve killed everyone in this building, and here you are, begging me to touch you.”

The rough tone sends desire coursing through you, and you cry out against the wall as arousal bleeds out of you. Kento kisses you, across your shoulders, his cock pressing up against you, hard and thick.

A groan releases into your ear, and you squirm, rubbing your thighs together in anguish. Begrudgingly, Kento lets one of your wrists go so that he can drag your skirt down, leaving you with shivering legs in the cool October evening.

You reach back to grab at him, desperately needing him inside of you; but he stills you with his hand, laughing eagerly into your skin.

“So impatient. Thought I taught you better than that.” Though, he drags your panties down quicker, lets them pool at your ankles along with the dark-colored skirt. It’s obvious he wants you just as much; he wastes no time dragging a hand down his cock, the tip already beginning to leak.

“Kento,” you say against the cold wall, throbbing, swallowing down all your need for him. It’s too dark for you to see every one of his pretty features, but his shadowy eyes gleam ruthlessly in the moonlight. “Let me kiss you again—”

Kento tsks and shakes his head, brushing your hair over one shoulder. “Now, that can’t happen. You’ll fall in love with me again too easily.” A laugh forces its way out of his chest, and you hate that the sound creates pressure in your body. You’re already in love with him, but his grip is too tight on you; you can’t kiss him, even though you want to.

A finger runs between your folds as Kento reaches between your legs, gathering slick in the process. His skin is cold, and you whimper; he used to be so warm, a natural furnace. Yet, he’s teasing you now, listening to your breathy little whispers as you lean back into him.

Without thinking, you grasp his hand with your own, slide it forward as the veins and tendons flex under your palm. This time, he complies; he lets you push his fingers into your cunt, much thicker and longer than your own.

“Oh sweetheart,” he says, full of scornful sympathy, so contrary to the soft kisses on your neck. “You’re soaked. Have you really missed me that much?”

Your breath grows hot, heavy as he sinks his fingers deeper into you. You think about how much you loved him two years ago, and how much you still do.

Everyone you care about is gone, everyone but him. Perhaps Kento is the only one who’s truly ever mattered, because even if you’d been asked to kill him, you never would’ve done it, never could’ve; you’re not strong enough.

That’s where you and Satoru differ.

Kento slides his fingers in and out, stretching you, brushing against your swollen clit that’s begging to be touched by him. He bites down hard on your shoulder, blooms a bruise there and marks you as his forever, even if you’d never be anyone else’s anyways.

Already, you feel your climax building; you’re breathing heavier, crying out his name in a voice that doesn’t quite sound like your own. “I’m c-close,” you manage, and that is the wrong thing to say. He stills all at once and slips his fingers out of you, a web of arousal smeared over his knuckles.

Between your legs, you’re sticky, cold, but you barely notice. Your attention is directed on how aching and empty you are when his hands leave your body.

With a whine, you force your hips backwards, hating the chill that surrounds you all at once. “I wanna cum—”

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Kento smiles against your neck and drags his cock against the small of your back, swollen and hard. “But I know you can ask much nicer than that.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, “please, Kento, please, please, I need you, I—”

“There’s my good girl.” A breathy laugh leaves him as he angles the tip against your entrance, slow, pressing into you. “Fuck,” Kento groans, loudly, drawing out the syllables. “Squeezing me so tight, baby, you’ve been waiting just for me?”

“Ken—” you say, and it’s all you can manage, the little nickname that no one’s ever called him but you. Kento buries himself inside you, his hot, muscular chest pressing into your back, pinning you against the cold wall. He’s so much bigger and wider, and his body encases you, shielding you from the agony that he’s dealt with his own hand.

You’re not sure if you can stand on your own — not under the weight of your solid and forceful affection for him.

“I know, I know," he says to the sweet sounds that escape you. "I’ve got you.”

Kento reaches around and cups your breast, squeezing hard. His thumb flicks over your nipple, the nail dragging against it cruelly as he swirls over the padded bra. Still, his blanketed touch is electrifying; your fingers curl into the wall, smooth, clawing without anything to grab onto.

He fucks into you, slowly, his strained cock rough against your walls. It’s just as you remember, and you long for your old life, wishing that there was a sorcerer out there whose technique could somehow turn back time. Then, you’d do something different, even if you’re not sure what.

With each thrust, his speed increases, hitting deeper and deeper inside you. Kento’s groans are so pretty, and tears roll down your cheeks at the feeling of him within you, surrounding you, the man you still touch yourself to at night, even when he’s a cold-blooded killer.

“It’s been a while since anyone’s fucked you like this, hm?” Kento says, cooing, almost sorry, even if he doesn’t realize how true that is. You feel dizzy with him, the sound of his syrupy voice, so deep and invigorating. “Need to cum so bad, don’t you, pretty?”

“Please,” you say, and you almost tell him you love him, almost let it slip, even though it can’t. This is nothing, this is nothing, this is nothing, you try and tell yourself, but you’re too distracted by the sounds, the utter sin that you’ve committed here in this school.

You’ve betrayed everyone, and you’re still betraying them now, your weak heart nothing but a burden.

Kento says your name, groans it around your ear as he presses harder into your body. His cock angles upwards, forces itself past your aching walls, and, he’s buried in you completely. There’s a lingering sting, a bitter pain, but Kento feels like home. Your stomach tightens, bursting with energy.

“You’re so perfect, aren’t you? So beautiful. Always take it like you were made for my cock,” he groans, and you suck him right back in, clamping around him tightly. “I missed this pretty pussy; maybe as much as I missed you.”

Tears well up in your eyes then, and you sob, reach around to grab his hair. You need to feel him all around you, remember what it was like for him to love you in return.

He hits a spot within you, and you arch into him, crying, a mess between your legs and on your face.

“There?” Kento says, but he already knows the answer, grinning as he kisses your cheek, your temple. “How could I ever forget the sweet sounds you make when you’re about to cum.”

You press his head closer, feel him kiss your neck again, softer this time, lovingly. He runs a delicate hand across your ribcage, your stomach. “You going to let go for me, angel? Surprised you lasted this long after two years. Think my sweet girl deserves it.”

“K-kento,” you whisper, but his name doesn’t get far; it’s cut off by your moan as he rips the orgasm from you, and you clench around him tightly, shaking.

“That’s it,” he says and shudders, grunting as he forces out the words. Your body jerks involuntarily into him as you slump against the wall, trapped between it and Kento. Already, you’re so sensitive, and your tears don’t stop falling as he pushes his cock into you again and again.

Kento’s heart is heavy within his chest, pounding against your back. You feel sick, helpless, missing him endlessly, even with him right at your fingertips. You can’t believe that you’ve lasted two years without him; how can you survive a lifetime?

“Take me with you,” you plead, your eyelids fluttering close as you try and remember the feeling of him, memorizing it in case this is the last time. “Please.”

“Can’t do that, sweetheart.” Kento jerks back into you, forcing your cheek further against the wall. His hand is stiff against your head, even though he strokes your hair gently, encouraging. “I’m supposed to kill you, remember? I’m supposed to rid the world of every last sorcerer.”

“I need you, Kento,” you cry, feeling close to another orgasm already. Tears are running down your cheeks, your lips wet with spit as your mouth parts. “Just like it was before. I love you; I love you so much, I’ll be so good, I’ll—”

Kento groans your name and cums inside you, thick ropes painting your insides. It’s too much, everything about this is too much, and you’re squeezing him again, painfully sensitive as you orgasm once more.

Nonsense spews from your lips, and you grab at him in desperation as he finally drags out of you, the absence of him shattering you completely. Your inner thighs are sticky and wet, and his cum drips down your thighs, leaving you nothing more than a cold, ruined mess.

Kento shushes, soothes you with sounds that are closer to taunts as you spin around, grab at him, claw at his wrinkled red shirt. There’s still blood on his face, but even then, you accept him; you’ll forgive him for every wrongdoing he’s committed if he lets himself love you once more.

“I want to go with you,” you say, and though his face is hard, he’s caressing your cheek with an opposite sort of touch, sadness in his weary eyes.

“I know you do,” he says, and there’s a conflict within him as his features contort. It’s the only evidence that maybe, deep down, he cares about you still. “But I’m not the man you want. Not anymore.” It’s a whisper, a prayer, and goodbye.

You nearly slap him as he straightens, inches away from you. You feel that you’ve been pushed into a pit of inky chaos, left soaked and naked from the way down, humiliated. Your cheek is red from where it was pressed into the textured paint, stinging from the pressure.

“Kento, please,” you beg, and he takes a step back, hardening his eyes. “You can’t leave me again. I’d rather die. I’d rather you kill me.”

You’re not sure which of the statements snaps him back into himself once more.

Kento blinks, then lets a cold smile filter onto his face, one that lingers darkly on every corner of his expression. A smear of blood remains on his sharp cheekbone, and he wipes it clear, grazing his eyes along your body in a way that makes you feel so small. You’re nothing to him, then; even though you had been once.

“Oh, I decided I won’t kill you this time,” he says, pushing his hair back into place as his spine goes rigid, straightening like a marionette string. “I want to make sure I have a pretty girl to come back to every now and again.”

“What?” It leaves you forcefully, and you’re choking in shame, because you hope the words are true. You can’t stand a life without Nanami Kento, even if that life is nothing more than seeing him in the cracks of moonlight, the shadows where no one knows he’s lurking. You’d take that before a lonely existence, void of the sweet lips of the devil that you pray to.

“I’ll leave Tokyo,” you shout, red-faced and teary eyed, your words nothing more than empty threats. “I’ll leave the country. You’ll never find me.”

Nanami grins, laughs at you coolly, a sound that chills you to the core. “Oh, I’d find you.”

You don’t have time to formulate a response. A breath forces its way out of you, but the wretched curse reveals itself from the corner of the room, stopping any words from escaping your lips. His eyes hungrily roam every inch of you, lingering on the lower half of your exposed body; you wonder how long he’s been there, watching, not saying a word.

“Are you done yet?” Mahito asks, dragging his lurid gaze away to face Nanami. “You’ve had your fun, let’s kill her now.”

Nanami’s eyes flash. “Leave her,” he says, scoffing. “She’s already as pathetic as it gets. Killing her won’t make a difference.” He spits the words coldly, and turns, following the curse out of the room

tags: @hannzai @cha0thicpisces @kissesmellow21 @sukiischaotic @hinata7346 @annoyingpainterprincess

I GOT SO NERVOUS TO POST THIS ONE SHDHFHS

OCTOBER MASTERLIST

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stellamancer · 6 months

Text

beyond the unending night (reader + satoru gojo)

notes: it's finally here. the long awaited halloween fic. yes, i know it's march, but i did start working on it in september. haha. there's so much i could say, but i will leave it at that this fic is, in every sense, a fic that i would not normally write. and yet here we are.

contains: f!reader (no physical description or gendered language is used), no explicit romantic pairing (though you don't have to look hard to find the reader x gojo implications), major character death (played with), semi-graphic depictions of death, blood and violence, minor suicide ideation, canon retelling (lines of dialogue are pulled from the jjk english dub because i'm a dirty dub watcher). opening poem is from higurashi no naku koro ni (minagoroshi-hen). fic title is from giga's beyond the way.

please note that this is a time loop fic and, by nature contains repeating scenes (particularly from canon). please do not read this fic if you do not like that sort of thing.

wc: 21,883 read on ao3 (account required) || playlist

Please tell me what happened in this night. It's like the cat inside the box.

Please tell me what happened in this night. You don't know if the cat in the box is dead or alive. Please tell me what happened in this night. The cat in the box was dead.

The first time, it is instant— you don’t even know what’s happening.

The second, it is by flame, but you barely realize it, barely feel it— a second of mind numbing heat before nothing.

The third time, it is something slicing across your throat; you see the blood spilling everywhere, then the pain follows— a moment of pure agony before nothing.

The fourth time you realize what’s going on; what’s really going on.

You realize you’ve been dying.

You think your head is going to explode.

At first, you think it’s because the subway platform is crowded, insanely so— there are hundreds of people shoved into this space alongside you, packed like sardines in a can. You’ve never been one for crowds, but it’s the reality of things when you live in Tokyo. For the most part, you’ve learned to accept it, but even this crowd is a little much and you wish you hadn’t listened to your friends when they said you should go party in Shibuya for Halloween; you don’t even like partying.

There’s a sharp pain in your temple followed by a thought so loud that it feels like someone is screaming it at you through a megaphone positioned right next to your ear.

It’s the night of October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.

For the eighth time.

Before you can even question the thought, images flash in your mind’s eye, blurry at first before they come into focus. The platform gates open. Chaos ensues. People dropping onto the subway tracks— spontaneously bursting into flame— their heads, necks sliced off, stomachs cut open—

Bile rapidly builds up in your throat, and you clamp your jaw shut, trying to force it down. Not here. Not now. You try to focus on something else, anything else happening outside of your brain. There’s a pair next to you musing about the people standing on the subway tracks, wondering what the two (the four?) of them are talking about. You blink back tears as you look. You can only see two: a freakishly tall man with white hair dressed in all black, and another man, dressed in strange, yet more traditional looking garb. Are those costumes too? You don’t have a lot of time to think about it as another image forces its way into your brain.

Your corpse— lifeless on the ground.

Your corpse— burning to ash.

Your corpse— bleeding out.

You can’t hold it in any more. Every fiber in your being screams at you to get away from the subway tracks, but instead you rush toward them, shoving people left and right as your hands desperately reach the stability of the gate. You grip it like a lifeline as you retch over the side of it, the contents of your stomach spilling all over the subway tracks.

There’s a quiet murmur of disgust behind you but you can’t be bothered to respond. You need to get out of here. You need to leave. You need to do it before—

The gates open and the crowd starts to move like a tidal wave, pushing and shoving their way through the gate. You’re swept away, vomit long forgotten as you and a few dozen others tumble onto the railway.

Alarm bells go off in your brain, loud and deafening. A voice in the back of your head screams for you to get off the track! Get off the track now before—

The platform erupts into a cacophony of screams, drenched in horror, saturated in fear. You are surrounded by people, by corpses— beheaded, sliced open, bursting into flames.

Your terror roots you to the ground as the carnage ensues around you. It’s only when another person, another corpse, dressed in a magical girl costume collides with your body that you can finally move. But it’s too late, you realize, despaired and helpless, as your bodies fall to the ground.

It’s too late.

You die an eighth time.

You think your chest is going to explode.

At first, you think it’s because it’s so hard to breathe, frustratingly so— there are hundreds of people squeezed into this space alongside you, packed like cattle for slaughter. You've never been one for crowds, but it’s the reality of things when you’re in Shibuya. For the most part, you’ve come to accept it, but this crowd is way too much and you wish you had just stayed home and ordered a pizza; though honestly, the thought of pizza kind of makes you sick.

There’s a dull throbbing in your forehead, followed by a thought so loud that it feels like someone’s hollering at you from a loudspeaker that’s been installed in your brain.

It’s the night of October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.

You think it's the ninth time now.

Behind you, you hear a woman screaming, her voice crazed and terrified. You turn your head automatically to look at her and when you see her you realize you recognize her yellow and white magical girl costume. You can say with certainty that you’ve never seen her before and yet—

Before you can ruminate more on it, images— memories assault your mind’s eye with a clarity that is absolutely sickening. That woman colliding into you, your bodies slamming into the subway tracks before you both— Your stomach churns violently,

and you feel like you’re going to puke, but you force it down— can't afford to right now. Instead, you make your way over to the woman.

Her head is in her hands as she mutters over and over again about how everyone is going to die. People around her figure that being stuck in here with the crowd has probably gotten to her. You, however, know better.

“...hey,” you say softly.

Her muttering comes to an abrupt halt and slowly she raises her head to look at you. There’s a flash of recognition in her eyes and she grabs you violently by the shoulders. “You! You know, don’t you? That we’re going to die?”

If it weren’t for the fact that you have indeed experienced death here eight times already, then you would have thought she’s lost her mind. Slowly, you nod and she seems relieved by it, her grip on you loosening.

You can’t help but feel a little relieved too— glad to know that you’re not the only one experiencing this nightmare. There’s a voice in the back of your mind that’s confused though. Why is she only remembering now? But then again, it took you a few times before you realized yourself.

Around you people start to gasp, and you glance back toward the railway to see an abnormally tall man with white hair and dressed in all black jump down from the atrium onto the railway. He lands rather gracefully for someone who jumped at least one floor and starts to converse with the other three people (you think they're people— two of them are in some pretty wild costumes) on the track.

Wait. Isn’t it supposed to be just two people: the tall man and the one in the traditional clothes? Where did the other two come from?

“We have to get out of here,” the woman says. “Before they kill us.”

Her grip shifts from your shoulders to your arms and she starts to shove at everyone around you, trying to force her way through. She seems to know, just as well as you do, that any second now the gates will open and the crowd will start spilling onto the railway, littering the tracks with bodies and ash. Neither of you can let yourselves get swept up with the rest. If you do and you end up on those tracks, you’re as good as dead.

People move aside at a snail's pace, many of them too focused on trying to see what is going on on the subway tracks. This isn't good. You need to move faster or else—

The collective sound of the gates opening echoes in your head, a metallic hiss that makes your stomach fold into itself. Before either of you can stop yourselves, you both whip your heads back to look, to confirm, but it’s a mistake.

The briefest lapse in attention is enough to pull you both into the current of people, and try as you might to fight against it, the crowd splits you and the woman apart as it swallows you both whole. You’re both spat onto the tracks at the edge of the platform and your head collides with the metal rails of the track. It feels like your skull is about to crack in two, and it takes every fiber in your being to scramble to your feet. You're close enough to the platform that if you can just climb up it, then you'll be—

“Help! Help!”

It’s the woman’s voice. You turn to see that she ended up a couple meters away from you. She’s staring at you, eyes brimming with fear filled tears as she extends her hand in your direction. You take a step toward her, reaching out.

And then, her entire body is engulfed in flames, the skirt of her magical girl costume a ring of fiery death around her.

Her blood curdling scream is the only thing you can hear, her burning flesh, the only thing you can see. You don’t know what to do.

You can’t save her.

There's something touching your back. You can barely feel the pressure, but it's hot, scorching hot, mind numbingly hot, painfully hothothot.

You know this sensation. You have felt it before. The scent of burning cloth, burning hair, burning flesh clogs your nostrils. It's too late, you realize, helpless, despaired as the flames eat at your body— your soon to be corpse.

It's too late.

You die a ninth time.

It’s October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.

This is the tenth time.

Your head hurts, but you ignore it. There’s something more important that you need to attend to. You immediately make your way to the woman you met during your last round, the one you watched burn to death. Her costume is still pristine, unmarred by fire and death.

For now.

She’s not screaming this time and while there’s a little voice in the back of your mind that’s concerned by this, you try to ignore it.

“Um, excuse me?” you say when she doesn’t acknowledge you as you approach.

The woman turns to look at you. You’re taken aback by the distinct lack of recognition and it feels almost as if the woman you encountered previously and the one before you now are two separate people. In a way, they technically are.

“Do I… know you?” she finally asks when you don’t say anything.

Your mouth is dry. How do you even answer that? You don’t know her. You just watched her die twice. You know her. She begged you for help. You couldn’t save her.

If you explain all of this you know she’s just going to think you’ve lost your mind. Maybe you already have— you’ve died nine times after all.

You give her a weak smile. “I… just wanted to tell you that you think your costume looks great.”

She blinks, taken aback by your words. There’s no doubt that she wasn’t expecting you to say that. It’s the truth though, her costume is nice; she’s dressed up as a character from a magical girl anime that was popular a couple years ago.

“Thank you! I made it myself!” The woman breaks out into a genuine smile and your heart hurts. In a few moments she’ll die and the costume she worked so hard to make will be nothing but ash on the subway tracks.

“Sorry,” you blurt out before you can stop yourself.

“For?”

For watching her die. For not being able to save her.“...I just kind of came up to you all of a sudden…”

She laughs. “It’s okay.”

It’s not.

You consider telling her that she should try to move. That if she stays here she will die. You don’t want her to die. Again. You can still hear her screaming in your ears as she burned to death. You want to tell her.

You don’t.

“Stay safe, okay?” you say. It almost sounds like you’re begging.

She gives you another smile, kind and gentle and you think you’re far too undeserving of it for not telling her what fate will soon befall her. “You too.”

“I’ll try,” you say and move away from the woman just as the gates open and the crowd surges toward the railway. You do not fight it as you are swept up into the crowd and despite what you said, you do not try, this time, to stay safe.

You die for the tenth time.

It’s October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.

This is the fourteenth time.

There’s a slight ache in your head, but it’s subtle enough that you can ignore it. The pain you feel lessens with each round and you think it’s a sign that your body no longer feels the need to remind you of the precarious situation that you’re in.

Or maybe you are just becoming numb to everything: your death, the death of the people around you, the death of the woman in the magical girl costume—

You try not to think about it too much as you reach into your bag to check the time on your phone: 8:37PM. There’s not a lot of time: you need to move.

At the very end of your last attempt to escape this nightmare you realized something. You need to know exactly what is going on around you so you can plan accordingly: where to not stand, where to not go. Up until now, you’ve relied almost solely on the knowledge gained from your previous failures to try and survive, but obviously it’s not enough to keep you alive. You’re not sure why you didn’t realize this earlier. The panic, maybe? The fear?

Maybe you really are becoming numb to all this.

Unlike previous iterations, this time you elect to move closer to the gate, positioning yourself somewhere against it where you’re unlikely to be pushed off the platform in a couple minutes when they open. You take great care to place yourself where you can see the ones responsible for the slaughter very clearly. At the beginning, you could only see one, the one who looks the most human, but with each repetition, the other two have become more and more clear. You wonder why. You don’t have time to think about it.

Murmurs nearby alert you to the arrival of the fourth major player involved in the night’s events. You look up and see the white haired man dressed in all black descending upon the platform like an angel from the heavens. This is your first time really looking at him and you realize there’s something almost inhumanly attractive about him. You can’t quite put your finger on it, but it occurs to you that you shouldn’t even try; you don’t have the time to be drooling over some handsome stranger.

You’ve naturally never taken the time to try and listen to whatever the conversation the man and his opponents have before all hell breaks loose on the platform, but you try and lean closer to listen. It’s hard to hear over the dozens of conversations going on behind you, but you try anyway. There might be a clue to what’s actually going on— or better yet, a clue on how to get out of it.

It’s obvious that you’re missing context from what bits of the conversation you do manage to hear, but honestly it all sounds like stuff out of a shounen battle manga. There is one part of the exchange that you manage to hear with a startling sort of clarity. It feels almost as if your heart stops beating as your blood turns ice cold in your veins.

“If I run away, you’re just gonna kill everyone here, right?” the man in black asks.

There’s a pause, and if your heart was still beating it’d be long enough for just four heartbeats.

“If you run away?” The monster with cane repeats, the sadistic grin spreading wide across its features, displaying its charcoal black teeth. The gravelly sound of its voice sets fire to the blood in your veins, your stilled heart thumping wildly, in fear, in anticipation. Soon. It’s happening soon. You brace yourself. “We’re going to do that even if you don’t!”

You die a fourteenth time.

It’s October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.

This is the seventeenth time now.

Things are going surprisingly well, even as the people around you tumble onto the tracks. You manage to hold on, desperation keeping you from falling into the abyss. This is good, you tell yourself, despite the fact that it’s not the first time you’ve achieved this. Every little victory is worth celebrating, but you have to remain vigilant. This is yet another information gathering loop, and while you know that maybe this time you’ll be lucky and live, there’s still a chance, a big one, at that, that you will die again.

You have to make the most of each and every death.

It’s such a morbid thought, but the ends justify the means, or so you tell yourself. If you have to die a few times to make it out of this unending nightmare, then so be it.

The spot you’re in is a good vantage point; it’s easier to see everything happening below you. It’s so good that it’s actually sickening. You watch as the monster with the cane and one with what looks like branches for eyes slaughter the people on the track, mowing them down, setting them aflame. In another life, in another many lives, that was you down there, and for what feels like the first time in forever, you feel like you’re going to be sick. You feel like, at some point, you likened the scene before you to some kind of shounen battle manga, but you think that was wrong.

This is borderline horror.

Everything plays out before you like a scene out of an action horror flick. If you didn’t know better, you’d think you were just an extra on set, but you know the reality is that you’re just an extra to whatever phantasmal battle is taking place in front of you. The monsters and the strangely dressed man all try to attack the man in black, but he manages to block every hit effortlessly, as if he is protected by some sort of invisible barrier. When it seems the two monsters are about to hit him, he merely jumps out of the way and the two monsters seem to collide, the force of their combined strength sending a gust of air throughout the crowd. The man in black neatly lands on a nearby platform half wall and says something about curse users, whatever those are, to the monsters, before he starts to mock them, pulling down his strange blindfold in the process.

And this, you’ve found, is where you start to get in trouble.

You clearly remember thinking, at some point, previously, that there was something attractive about this man. You still don’t know what it is. You haven’t had the time to try and figure it out, but there is one thing that you do know: you can’t keep your eyes off of him.

He drops back down onto the tracks, antagonizing his opponents in an arrogant tone as he approaches. When he comes to a stop between the two monsters, the second round of their fight begins. They try to hit him, but he dodges still, gracefully, fluidly, like the three of them are embroiled in some sort of passionate, yet violent dance.

You cannot turn your eyes away as he cruelly rips off one of the arms of the one-eyed monster.

You cannot turn your eyes away as he brutally kicks the branch-eyed monster in the abdomen, sending them flying to the other side of the platform.

You cannot turn your eyes away as he effortlessly hurls the one-eyed, now one-armed monster in the same direction, sending them smashing into the wall.

Only when the man in black seems to fly to the other side is the spell over you seemingly broken. Still, your eyes give chase, and your body too, rushing from one side of the platform to the other. You can’t lose sight of this fight, you tell yourself, settling in a spot you recall being safe during your last round. Doing so could mean another death, another loop, another October 31.

You watch as the man in black acrobatically dodges what looks to be vines or roots that the monster with branches for eyes seems to have summoned from the depths of the Tokyo metro. He lands on the monster’s shoulders, balancing on them as he uses its branch-eyes for leverage. The look in the man’s eyes is so crazed that you can see it from where you’re standing. He says something to it and then—

With a feral and sadistic smile, he rips their eyes straight out of their skull.

Your heart is pounding wildly in your chest as you watch the fight unfold. It is horrifyingly, disgustingly violent, yet still you watch as people on the track are killed by the human-like person, blood raining down as their freshly beheaded skulls go flying into the air. He and the one-eyed monster launch their counter attacks against the man in black and the blowback is so intense the power goes out causing everyone to scream.

There’s a faint glow where the man in black is standing that starts to grow brighter and brighter. You can make out his form turning to face the wall, and it seems almost like he’s slammed the monster that had branches for eyes against it with some sort of telekinetic power. Despite the panic from the people around you, you manage to hear him, chuckling like a mad man as he draws closer and closer to the monster.

The one-eyed monster yells out a name, a name you think must belong to the man, but he doesn’t hear it. He doesn’t hear the one-eyed monster as he extends his hands out toward the eyeless monster, exerting some kind of force that you can’t really see. He doesn’t hear the one-eyed monster as the eyeless monster’s entire body is vaporized in a flash of blue light. He doesn’t hear the one-eyed monster, as the lights flicker back on revealing a smoking crater stained with purple blood where the eyeless monster once stood.

But you do.

Satoru Gojo.

You make sure to remember that.

It’s October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.

And this is the eighteenth time.

You watch as the man called Satoru Gojo stalks through the crowd of people on the subway tracks, chasing after the one-eyed fire monster. It throws people at him, in a clear attempt to slow him down.

It does not work.

Satoru Gojo climbs back onto the platform in a way that you can only describe as inhuman, and the people nearby shriek and move away from him, out of terror, out of fear. You, on the other hand, draw closer, refusing to lose sight of him.

He is relentless in his pursuit of the one-eyed monster. It continues to throw person after person at him, but he does not stop and the people float there, suspended in midair before they are gently lowered to the ground by some unseen force and scramble away.

No one dares get close to Satoru Gojo, everyone on the platform seems to know that doing so means certain death, yourself included. But you still feel the need to keep an eye on him. The monster and the strangely dressed man are focusing more on him than the crowd— anyone in between is just collateral damage.

But not you.

Especially since you’ve made it this far— you’ve never made it this far before.

A voice echoes throughout the platform; you realize it’s the automated announcement.

An eight car train is pulling in. Please wait behind the yellow line.

You can hear everyone’s relief coming from all sides. The train is coming! The train is coming! A ripple of hope makes its way throughout the crowd. With the train comes the chance to get off the platform and the senseless violence that’s been happening here. Some of the people around you are talking excitedly and others are running toward the gates, toeing the yellow line they’ve been instructed to wait behind. And you, you should be excited, you should be hopeful.

All you feel is dread.

It eats at your stomach, at your chest, at your mind. Clawing and gnawing at you in a way that leaves you paralyzed on the platform. There’s something wrong here. You can’t be sure because you’ve never made it this far, never survived long enough for the train to come, but something is just not right.

No.

You must be paranoid. The train coming is a good thing. It has to be a good thing. You are just paranoid. It’s normal. It’s natural. Dying seventeen times would do that to anyone— rob them of hope, condemn them to an existence full of fear.

It is not lost on you that the thought of dying more than once, much less, dying seventeen times is not normal or natural in the very slightest.

But you need hope, you crave it, wildly, desperately. The hope of freedom, of escape is the only thing getting you through this unending nightmare. Every time you die, every time you wake, it is with the hope that maybe, just maybe this iteration will be different, maybe this one will be the one where you make it out, make it back to your friends who must be waiting for you, make it back home where you can be safe and sound. You need the hope to keep going. Because without hope, what will you have left?

The train screeches as it pulls into the station and the people around you laugh in both disbelief and relief. They start to push and shove toward it, fighting to be able to board because there’s no way everyone here will be able to get on an eight car train and being left behind at this point is practically synonymous with death. Unable to decide if you believe in the train as a symbol of hope or a new layer of fear, you are pushed along with the crowd toward it.

The doors of the train cars slide open and the current passengers all rush off as they disembark. You as well as everyone else on the platform can see with a horrifying clarity that the train is filled to the brim with monsters. Monsters that reach out and grab anyone their hands can reach. The woman to your left. The person to your right.

You.

Hope is gone.

What do you have left?

You die for the eighteenth time.

It’s October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.

This is probably the twenty-sixth time now.

If there is anything this entire ordeal has taught you, it is that you are resilient. Whether it is some innate trait that you never had any reason to uncover before or just a byproduct of being trapped in an unending cycle of being dead and not dead, you don't know. What you do know, though, is that even if you no longer have hope, you at least have your resilience.

Whether you want it or not.

You check the time. It’s 8:35PM. Something flickers in your chest, like a faint light in a sea of darkness, but you ignore it. You don’t have time right now.

With a nimbleness born from your previous failures, you weave your way through the crowd. You’ve done this enough times to know where the gaps are— who will yield and who won’t. Your destination is the escalator that leads off the platform and up to a higher part of the station. You’d noticed previously that the escalator along with every other entrance onto the platform will eventually be blocked by vines or roots of some sort (the work of the branch-eyed monster probably). It’s not a perfect plan because you don’t know what happens on the other side, but whatever it is has to be better than whatever is happening on the side that you’ve been on.

You’d tried to get to the stairs during your last two rounds, but you’d just missed it. You hadn’t been fast enough and had gotten caged and slaughtered along with the rest. But this time, this time you have more time. It’s just one minute, but it’s enough. You know it is.

The flickering in your heart grows stronger. Hope. You try not to pay attention to it— you don’t want to be disappointed yet again. But you want to so badly. A voice in the back of your mind tells you to focus on the good, tells you that if there was truly no way out of this endless nightmare, then why would you get more and more time with each round to escape your fate?

With that thought in mind, you break out into a run, recklessly rushing through the crowd, shoving anyone who will not yield to the side. Out of the corner of your eye you can see the stark white of Satoru Gojo’s hair as he descends upon the platform.

You need to get up those stairs.

Now.

If you remember correctly, the roots and vines don’t close off the area the moment he touches down, but a little after they start talking, so you think there is probably some time, but you can’t leave it to chance.

The stairs are packed, and for some reason no one is moving. The escalator right next to it is just as full and the power doesn’t seem to be working. You don’t have time for this. You clamber onto the escalator’s rubber handrail, ignoring the weird feeling that passes through your body as you do so. You don’t have the time to worry about whatever that is. The people around you start exclaiming around you, but you don’t care, you don’t listen. You wobble as you try to balance yourself and when you think you’re steady you try to run.

But you trip.

And you die for the twenty-sixth time.

It’s October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.

This marks the thirtieth time.

And you have, finally, finally made it up the escalator, up the stairs with barely a second to spare. You pause, glancing back as the roots or vines or whatever the hell they are seal off the entrance to the platform. You notice that the area where the plants come down is actually fairly clear, despite the crowd. It seems weird, but you don’t dwell on it.

A strange feeling envelops your entire body and your legs turn into jelly. As you sink to the floor, you realize what you’re feeling is relief as all the tension, maybe thirty iterations of Halloween 2018 worth, seeps from your being. You don't remember the last time you felt anything other than fear and dread; it’s weird, but not unwelcome.

That voice in the back of your mind tells you that you can't relax just yet: October 31st isn’t over. Even though you have repeated this night again and again, burning the events that play out on the platform into your memory, you do not know a single thing that happens over here. It would be smart to scope everything out.

Legs still shaky, you rise to your feet and start walking. You think it’s probably for the best to try and head up to the surface and you make your way up to the next floor.

It’s packed with people here too, but relatively peaceful, especially when you compare it to the pandemonium taking place beneath your feet. Still, you can make out the undeniable hum of displeasure resonating throughout the crowd. People complaining about how uncomfortable their costumes are, people complaining about how much they want to go home, people complaining about how much their nights have been ruined because they couldn’t meet up with their friends and—

A thought hits you like an eight car train.

You were supposed to meet up with your friends.

That’s why you were on the platform in the first place— you were waiting for them to arrive, but then the trains stopped working, and people just started pouring into the station out of seemingly nowhere (you think you heard some people say they’d come from the crossing?). Soon after that is when everything went to shit.

You check your phone, though, for once it’s not to look at the time (8:56PM). Instead, you open LINE to check your friends’ group chat. There’s no signal here, for whatever reason, so if there are any new messages, you haven’t received them. The last one was from Kei, mentioning he was enroute, but as far as you know, you’re the only one who made it to Shibuya before the trains stopped.

Did one of them maybe make it here though? Surely, you would have run into them if—

The image of a woman in a magical girl costume fills your vision, burning to death before your very eyes as her screams echo in your ears. It is the first time in what feels like forever that you’ve thought about her and your stomach churns violently. You couldn’t help her, you can’t even help yourself, so how could you even expect to do the same for your friends if they were here? The mere thought of having to watch them die over and over is almost enough to send you over the edge. You don’t know if you could do it.

Would you even have a choice?

No. You can't think like that. You have choices. You've had choices. If you didn’t then, you would still be down below, among the fire and brimstone. Dying, if not dead already. However, instead, you are up here, where, for the moment, it is quiet and peaceful.

That thought, in of itself, is enough to give you a shred of solace, a glimmer of hope.

You take a deep breath and fiddle with your phone a little more, changing your lock screen to a picture you and your friends took at a photo booth not too long ago. The four of you are huddled together, faces squished as if you're all struggling to fit in the frame, despite there being plenty of room. You're mid-laugh because it's the first time you've been in a photo booth in years, Mio and Shin are grinning mischievously and finally, Kei is smiling, but only just slightly, the embarrassment clear on his face. It's probably only been a few months since you all took this picture, but the fact that it feels like it's been years makes your heart ache.

You press your forehead to the screen, like a prayer, like a promise.

You will make it out of this nightmare.

No matter what.

A shrill scream yanks you from your thoughts and you are instantly on your feet, alert as your eyes flit around frantically to identify the source. It doesn't take long for you to find it and when you do, you think you might have stumbled upon a new layer of horror to this nightmare.

It’s not the corpse, dangling by a noose, that terrifies you— by now you’ve seen dozens upon dozens of dead bodies that the sight of just one more doesn’t faze you in the slightest. The thing that’s the most mortifying, that’s the most disturbing is that right next to where the body is tied are two girls, two teenage girls still dressed in their school uniforms.

You can accept monsters and weirdly dressed men being responsible for the carnage tonight, but children too? Both girls look like they’re barely in high school and try as you might to rationalize things, to chalk it up to coincidence, you cannot ignore the ominous energy radiating from them.

The very notion that these two children could have killed someone here is a hard pill to swallow, but so is the fact that you’ve died.

And you’ve had to swallow that pill thirty times now, so what’s once more?

“Listen up!” one of the girls yells over the crowd, but she is mostly ignored; you don’t think everyone here has noticed her and the corpse dangling from the rafters. She scowls and turns to the other girl and says something quietly to her. The other girl nods and almost instantly she’s stringing up another person, another example. You want to look away so badly, and yet you cannot bring yourself to and you watch the poor soul choke to death.

“I said listen, you dumb monkeys!” the girl shouts, and this time she’s caught most of the crowd’s attention. “If you don’t want to end up like these two, you’ll listen to what we have to say!”

There is clear dissent among the crowd, people dismissive as they utter their disbelief. Some seem to think it’s a prank, but you know better. It takes two more examples before the crowd goes silent before the two high schoolers.

“About damn time!” The girl roars and then points toward the atrium, which is currently covered by roots and branches. “All of you move over there!”

You have a bad feeling about this.

Still, you comply; the girls have made it abundantly clear that failure to do so will result in death, though, at this point, you're almost certain this iteration is a bust and death is all but imminent. You try to keep positive— thinking you can at least gather information or, who knows, maybe there's a chance that this one is the one.

Yet when you step onto the mound of vines and branches that cover the atrium it feels as if you've crossed the threshold into hell. Your footing is stable… but for how long?

An eight car train is pulling in. Please wait behind the yellow line.

It's faint, but you can hear the announcement from below. The liquid in your stomach curdles at the sound as you recall the train and, in particular, what is on board. Soon enough, those monsters will be swarming the platform, massacring everyone in reach, guzzling down their blood, feasting on their flesh—

It dawns on you that the people on the platform are the monsters' first course.

And you, and those around you here in the shrubbery, are the second.

As you realize this, the branches and vines disintegrate beneath your very feet and suddenly you are mid air— falling, falling into the abyss below.

You die for the thirtieth time.

It’s October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.

You've done this nearly sixty times now.

After countless failures, you've decided that you're just not going to go upstairs any more. No matter where you try to go, you still end up herded onto the death trap above the platform where you ultimately fall to your death. You've tried positioning yourself in the same spot, tried bracing yourself for the drop— but nothing seems to work: upon landing, assuming you manage to land without hurting yourself or dying in midair (which has happened a couple times) you get grabbed and killed by one of the monsters from the train. It's probably not impossible, you just don't have the physical prowess or reflexes for it.

If anything, you can try again later, but you sincerely hope you don't have to.

It's 8:32PM, and you have plenty of time to get to your chosen spot for this loop— it's close to the stairs, in the very center of the platform. Here, there's little risk of getting pushed off onto the tracks when the gates open. You'll probably have to move when the train comes, or even before (assuming you survive) to avoid the monsters, but you'll get to that when it's time.

You can't really see the fight once it breaks out after Satoru Gojo arrives, but you still try to keep track of it as best as you can. You see when he hurls both monsters across the platform and you're not sure if it's muscle memory or what but you have to fight the urge to move to the side and watch. It's been a while, yes, but you've seen the fight countless times before— it doesn't change. Satoru Gojo will give chase. He will rip the branches from the branch eyed monster's skull. He will use some kind of power to eviscerate them.

You don't need to watch, but there's something in you that wants to.

It doesn't make sense, you've seen it all before; if you're unlucky you'll see it all again.

The lights go out and people start screaming; Satoru Gojo is ending the life of that one monster. Soon enough he'll be back on the platform, in pursuit of the other. You think at that point it would be good to move, reposition yourself as far from the incoming train as possible.

When he rises from the tracks like a demon straight from hell, you realize it's the first time this loop that you've actually gotten a good look at him. You remind yourself, again, that this isn't the first time you've seen this man, this scene. You can't help but watch, but stare at Satoru Gojo as he stalks through the crowd in pursuit of his prey. His expression is an eerie sort of calm that's at odds with the acts of violence you've seen him commit— his eyes an unnaturally bright blue.

He's a terrifying sort of beauty and you can't help but be captivated by him.

An eight car train is pulling in. Please wait behind the yellow line.

The sound of the announcement sends your heartbeat into a frenzy, snapping you out of your little trance. The train is coming and you need to get moving. As you dart to the edge of the platform, the thought occurs to you that even if you avoid the initial wave of monsters, it's likely you will inevitably be caught by them and killed. It wouldn't be impossible for Satoru Gojo to turn his attention to them instead of the two he's currently facing, but he's just one man— can he truly defeat all those monsters?

You can see the train pulling in and you brace yourself, praying that it'll work out somehow.

The doors hiss open and the screaming starts again as the monsters come bursting out of the train, biting and mauling anyone they can get their hands on. Those who were lucky enough to not be at the front start to scramble away and the monsters give chase. Your body is taut, ready to try and dodge any that come your way.

Out of the corner of your eye you notice something moving through the air. A person? With blue hair? You take the risk to look— they're attacking Satoru Gojo. He tries to punch them but they fly away from him to dodge— disappearing into the crowd.

You hear a loud cracking sound over the cacophony of the crowd and your stomach twists; you know what that sound is. The roots above the atrium disintegrate and bodies from above start to rain down onto the platform.

And then, you're not sure what happens— it's so quick that you only manage to see what looks like an explosion of blood surrounding Satoru Gojo. Corpses litter the ground around him and even from here you can tell he is shaken by the carnage.

The monsters have finally reached where you're standing, and you duck under one as it lunges at you. Although it's big and scary, you realize it's moving kind of slow. Right after it another one comes at you and you take a side step to avoid it; this monster is kind of slow too.

Maybe you can do this.

As soon as you think that a strange feeling courses through you. Every hair on your body feels like it's standing on edge and the voice in your head is telling you to look at Satoru Gojo. You don't understand why because you think he's the least of your worries right now, but you do it anyway.

He's in some sort of stance, one hand raised to his face, fingers bent in some kind of gesture. There's some sort of aura, oppressive and frightening emanating from his form.

Satoru Gojo is doing something.

You just can't tell what.

It’s October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.

And you are utterly confused.

Barring your first few loops when you weren't fully aware of what was happening, you have very distinct memories of how each of your previous iterations of this night have gone— of each and every one of your deaths. But for your last round, the last thing you remember was feeling the immense power radiating from Satoru Gojo's body, but that's it.

You do not remember dying.

In fact, you don't think you did.

And yet, here you are again, back at the start: it's 8:32PM and the monsters and strangely dressed man are standing on the subway tracks waiting for the arrival of Satoru Gojo.

You don't understand what's going on; you didn't die but you're still stuck in this damn loop. Up until now, your death has served as the trigger to restart the loop. It's not impossible that maybe you suffered a quick and painless death but you're almost certain that isn't the case.

Something else must have happened.

Something having to do with Satoru Gojo.

You have to find out what. If you don't, you won't know how to avoid it, and if you can't do that, then you really might spend an eternity stuck in this nightmare. And so you take great care to repeat the steps of your last round. You need to make sure to survive to the same point you made it to last time.

Miraculously, you do.

The moment you feel that sensation again, a prickling sort of feeling that envelops your entire body, your eyes are on Satoru Gojo— trying to figure out what the hell he's doing. His eyes are crazed with a desperate kind of focus. You see his mouth move— he's saying something. A spell? A prayer? A curse?

You don't know.

You do know.

Your brain feels like it's going to explode.

Again.

It’s October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.

Again.

You do not know how many times it's been the night of Halloween in Shibuya: you stopped counting around the hundredth loop. It feels like it's been a while since then. Or maybe it hasn't? You don't know any more.

What you do know is that this night ends up going one of two ways before you are forced to repeat it. Either you die, in some way, shape or form or something happens just after nine that forces you to reset. You still don't know what it is exactly; you only know that Satoru Gojo is responsible for it.

You do prefer it to dying— it's far less painful.

But if anything, you wish you could just die permanently and never have to repeat this night ever again.

Unfortunately, you know better.

The only good thing you’ve noticed about all of this is that you really do seem to keep waking up earlier and earlier. The last time you checked, it was at around 8:30. It might take hundreds of thousands of loops, but eventually you’ll certainly wake up early enough to avoid this damn entire mess.

But by the time that happens… will your sanity still be intact? Will you really be able to go back to a normal day to day life after living the equivalent of hundreds of years, repeating the same night over and over again? You don’t even know how you’ve managed to stay sane all this time and as much as you want to believe you could do it…

There has to be a breaking point.

For both your mind and this time loop.

If you’re lucky, you’ll reach the latter first.

There’s a dull ache in your head that feels foreign yet familiar. Your mind is foggy, all your thoughts hazy as you try to recall what the word for this feeling is.

Groggy.

It feels as if you’ve woken up from a nap and you blink the sleepiness away from your eyes. When was the last time you took a nap? It’s been a while… You think you maybe tried once or twice, but you were too nervous, too on edge. Awake or asleep, it didn’t matter because, either way, you were doomed to repeat this nightmare.

As you think this, you realize that something is different.

You’re used to how the start of each loop feels like waking up suddenly and abruptly and it becomes clear to you that you haven’t looped. This is completely uncharted territory.

You need to find out what’s going on.

The first thing you notice is that it’s quiet. Almost eerily so, especially when the last thing you remember was screaming and chaos. You glance around you and find that it looks like all the monsters from the train are dead, the ground littered in their bloodstains and corpses. There were so many of them, you don’t know how someone could have wiped them out so quickly… Could it possibly have been Satoru Gojo’s doing?

More concerning than the complete eradication of the monsters is the fact that nearly everyone else on the platform is standing stock still, their mouths ajar with blank expressions on their faces. It’s almost as if their souls have completely vacated their bodies…

Were you like that too before you woke up?

You hear voices, and your body immediately goes tense as you turn your head in their direction. A little ways ahead of you, you see a man dressed as a monk conversing with the blue haired person from earlier and before them is—

Your heart nearly stops: it’s Satoru Gojo, restrained and on his knees.

Honestly, you can’t make heads or tails of the conversation they’re having; it’s more shounen battle manga nonsense. Satoru Gojo doesn’t seem to be enjoying their conversation either, and he interrupts them, clearly annoyed.

“Are we gonna do this or what?” he asks. “The view sucks and I’m just kinda bored.”

“I wanted to enjoy this sight for a little bit longer, but you are right,” the monk says. “I wouldn’t want anything to happen— gate, close.”

When he says that, Satoru Gojo’s restraints move, the weirdly shaped cubes at the ends of them closing in around him, trapping him in a giant red cube. It starts to shrink until it’s small enough to fit in the monk’s hand.

You gulp and hope they don’t notice that you’re awake. The fact that they haven’t slaughtered the rest of the people standing around you is a good sign, but you don’t want to find out what happens if they know you’re cognizant.

It’s not hard to play the part of a living statue, especially when you compare it to everything else you’ve had to suffer through on this night. You watch as the monk’s allies, the ones who had attacked everyone on the platform, wake up, but before they can do or say anything, the box holding Satoru Gojo slips through the monk’s fingers and makes a dent in the concrete. The look on the monk’s face makes it clear that it’s a problem he wasn’t expecting.

You don’t know a damn thing about Satoru Gojo, but you feel like this kind of thing is the norm for him.

The blue haired person suddenly looks in your direction and you nearly stop breathing. Have they noticed you? It takes everything in you to keep perfectly still, in hopes that maybe they didn't, that maybe they’re looking at something else. They raise their arm and it extends, their hand acting like some kind of projectile. You almost shut your eyes and brace yourself for impact, but their hand flies upwards and hits something on the ceiling, destroying it.

Inwardly, you breathe a sigh of relief— you’re still safe.

For now.

You listen to their following conversation and while you still don’t fully understand everything, it’s clear they’re talking about what to do next since they’ve taken care of Satoru Gojo. Something having to do with someone named Yuji Itadori? The group seems split on what to do about him but it’s clear he’s their next target.

Eventually, everyone but the monk (you heard the blue haired person, who is apparently named Mahito, call him Geto?) runs off, probably to find this Yuji Itadori person. Once they’re gone, Geto speaks and, at first, you think he’s talking to you, but it becomes clear he’s addressing someone else. “Those cursed spirits are actually smarter than the two of you.”

“Give him back!” a voice hidden among the crowd hisses. Your blood runs cold at the sound. You recognize it; it’s one of the high school girls from the upper floor.

“We cooperated with you fully and kept dropping monkeys for you,” says another voice; it must be the other girl that was with her, the one who hung all those people.

“Now give us back Master Geto’s body like you promised!”

“Don’t toy with Master Geto any further than you have!”

You blink in confusion. Isn’t the monk named Geto? The way the girls are talking it sounds like they’re talking about someone else… Is it possible that the body is ‘Geto’ but the person they’re talking to is someone else possessing it? It sounds kind of crazy, but then again, so is every single thing you’ve experienced tonight.

Your suspicions concerning this ‘Geto’ are confirmed only seconds later as he says, “Now begone, or is it your desire to be killed by this body?”

One of the girls vows her revenge and you hear shuffling somewhere else in the crowd as they scurry away. Now you think it’s just you and whoever it is that’s puppeting Geto’s body. You see him plop down in front of the box (the prison realm, you think he’d called it) that’s holding Satoru Gojo.

“You can come out, you know,” he says after a while.

You freeze. The rest of the platform is completely silent. This time you think he might actually be talking to you.

“I know you’re there,” ‘Geto’ adds, his voice casual. “If you’re insistent on hiding, you should know that I’m not afraid of using whatever means necessary to smoke you out.”

Given everything his allies have done, there’s no doubt in your mind that he’s serious. You were hoping to hide out among the crowd until he decided to leave, but it looks like you won’t be able to now.

Looks like this loop is a bust after all.

Your heart starts to race as you weave your way through the crowd. In every single one of your loops, you were always treated like a bit character, never noticed or singled out by any of the major players of the night. Although this is your first time encountering this ‘Geto’ it’s clear to you that he’s involved with everything that’s happened here and honestly, you get the feeling he might actually be the mastermind behind the massacre.

That makes you even more nervous.

You come to a stop in the place where Satoru Gojo was once kneeling before he was put in that box. Now that you’re out in the open, ‘Geto’ looks you over with some sort of nonchalant curiosity.

“You’re…” he starts, sounding thoughtful, "not a sorcerer, are you?”

Sorcerer. You heard that term thrown around by him and his group a few times. It’s what they’ve been referring to their enemies as. It probably wouldn’t be smart to lie and say you are one; you get the feeling he’d see through your lie anyway. “I’m not.”

He hums. “How interesting.”

“...what do you mean?” you ask before you can help yourself.

“It’s just you have an abnormally large amount of cursed energy for a non-sorcerer,” he explains. “Though, I suppose that all just sounds like gibberish to you."

You nod and look down at the box lodged in the floor. It has eyes, big creepy looking eyes. "...are you going to do the same thing to me as you did to that man?"

He laughs, "...fortunately for you, the prison realm only holds one person at a time and I need him sealed away more than you."

"...does that mean you're going to leave him in there forever?"

"If I'm feeling nice, I might unseal him in a hundred years or so."

One hundred years? At this point, you've probably lived roughly that amount of time through your loops alone, but for Satoru Gojo… "Won't he die first?"

"Only if he decides to," 'Geto' says, looking completely and wholly unbothered. "Time doesn't doesn't flow in the box, so when I unseal him, he'll be the same as he was just now. Physically anyway. Who knows how deteriorated his mind will be after all that."

Time doesn't flow in the box.

The words echo in your mind over and over. Time doesn't flow in the box. In other words, that means time has stopped in the box, and if that's the case then—

"Anyway, rather than worry about him, shouldn't you be more worried about yourself?"

You look at 'Geto' and he's smiling at you, it's friendly, but ominous. There's no doubt what is going to happen next, though you had already resigned yourself to this iteration being a bust; it was only a matter of time.

Time doesn't flow in the box.

"I was thinking I might keep you around, even if you aren’t a sorcerer, your wealth of cursed energy would serve my plans well," he muses. "But… it would be too much trouble trying to teach you how to use it in time."

As he talks, you realize this is probably the first time your death is intentional— every other death you've suffered has just been a byproduct of the ongoing slaughter. You were just another casualty, a victim, never a target.

You're scared.

Even though you know that once he kills you, once you die, you'll just loop back to around 8:30 again. You'll be on the platform again. And you'll play out some sequence of events before you eventually die again. And again and again.

Time doesn't flow in the box.

"I'll be nice, though," 'Geto' says, raising a hand and another monster appears out of nowhere. You don’t even bother trying to figure out from where. It doesn’t matter, especially since this monster will surely be the one to end your life. "I'll make it painless."

"...I appreciate it," you say and close your eyes hoping that he's not lying about it.

Time doesn't flow in the box.

He didn't lie.

You die again.

It’s October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.

And you're trapped.

You don't know how and you don't know why, but you are stuck in a time loop— forced to suffer through the horrific events of the night before you die and begin it all again. It's been a long time since you stopped counting how many loops you've gone through, but if you had to guess, it's probably somewhere in the hundreds now.

You are so very tired.

But it doesn't stop. It won't stop no matter what you seem to do. You are stuck. You are trapped. You are doomed.

“Time doesn't flow in the box.”

Ever since that first loop where you heard whoever is possessing Geto's body say that, the words have been stuck in your head, playing on loop.

You finally realize why.

“Time doesn't flow in the box.”

It's 8:25PM when you wake up; that should be plenty of time.

You need to find Satoru Gojo.

After hundreds of loops you've come to a singular conclusion: you need to prevent him being sealed in the prison realm. You've witnessed it enough to know that you won't be able to do it alone; you'll need his cooperation.

You rush upstairs as fast as you can, ignoring the shiver that runs down your spine as you step onto the stairwell. According to your previous loops, Satoru Gojo arrives on the subway tracks at 8:40PM. With how crowded the upper floor is, you don’t know if you’ll have the time to intercept him and talk to him, but if you can at least figure out where to find him, then you can try and talk to him during a subsequent loop.

When you reach the fourth basement floor, however, you don’t know where you should even start. He’s pretty tall so you think you could spot him in the crowd, but… there are still so many people. It occurs to you that maybe it would be better to try and look from a higher vantage point so you head to the stairs that lead up to the third basement floor. You check your phone again. It’s 8:35PM; you need to hurry.

Luckily for you, you find him very easily on the third basement floor.

The only problem is that he’s in a hard to reach spot— squatting above a sign hanging over the crowd.

You check your phone again. It’s 8:38PM and he’s starting to move, presumably to meet with those waiting for him on the subway tracks. It’s good that you found him, but there’s no doubt about it.

You’re going to need more time.

The moment you wake up, you immediately bolt toward the stairs. It's taken many, many more loops, but you've finally brought the time you wake down to around 8:15. You're still not sure if it's enough time, but there's only one way to find out.

You barrel your way up to the next floor and zig zag through the crowd to get to the next flight of stairs. By the time you get to your destination, you're completely out of breath, your chest heaving as your lungs clamor for air. You’ve done this so many times, yet your body acts like it’s always the first. It sucks, but there’s nothing you can do about it. You slow to a brisk pace to catch your breath and check the time. It’s 8:27— a new record. Hopefully it’ll be enough.

The goal is to catch Satoru Gojo before he moves to his lookout point above the crowd. While not impossible, it would be difficult for you to follow him there. You eye the safety barricade that blocks off the area where he’ll be moving in just a few minutes warily.

Yes, getting over there would be extremely difficult.

You don’t want to think about it right now; you’ll deal with it when the time comes.

Especially since Satoru Gojo has now entered your field of vision.

Your heart starts to race at the sight of him and it feels like it’s beating a million times a second. There isn’t a lot of time. You need to talk to him, but your legs only wobble, your feet planted firmly to the ground. This is not good. You need to move. You need to move.

Finally, after what feels like both an instant and an eternity, your feet finally budge, propelling you in Satoru Gojo’s direction. The beating of your heart only grows louder as you make your way toward him, mingling with the single thought that’s echoing throughout your mind right now: will he even hear you out?

You need to make him.

“Excuse me!” The words nearly come out in a stutter as you realize that you are actually talking to Satoru Gojo. You have watched this man at a distance for so long that it almost felt like he wasn’t real, like he was just another fixture in this nightmare that you’ve been living for far too long. And yet, here he is, right in front of you, in the flesh.

And his attention is on you.

All sound stops: the crowd around you, the thoughts in your head, the beat of your heart. Even though you cannot see them through that blindfold of his, you know that Satoru Gojo’s eyes are on you and the thought of that, the knowledge of it is actually a little overwhelming. Your mouth is dry and suddenly you don’t know what to say, but you need to say something. You need to say something before he thinks maybe you bumped into him by accident and just walks away without a word.

“I need to talk to you!” The words just burst out from your mouth and something about it is just absolutely embarrassing. You’re not sure if it's desperation or the fact that you haven’t really talked to anyone other than the existence occupying Suguru Geto’s body in nearly forever.

Satoru Gojo’s lips slowly start to form a smile, “Oh, yeah?”

The sound of his voice makes your mind go blank. There’s something different about it right now; more playful, amused even. Maybe it’s because he’s talking to you, a harmless human being and not a monster trying to kill him. It’s almost kind of jarring, but you know, with certainty, what Satoru Gojo’s voice sounds like. And the fact that he’s actually talking to you right now has you kind of excited. You nod, doing your best to not show how thrilled you are that he’s not ignoring you.

He hums thoughtfully, “Sorry… but unfortunately I kind of have some business to attend to right now.”

“I—” You start to say that you know that he’s headed down to the platform below to fight with…Choso and Jogo, you think their names are— you don’t know the name of the monster with the branches for eyes. “It’s— it’s really important!”

Gojo tilts his head a little, clearly thinking. You should probably say something else, something to try and convince him to stay a little longer and hear you out, but your mind is both full and blank. Where do you start? From the beginning? Or do you start with what is most important? Maybe you should say what you think will get his attention. You’re not sure, and you realize you really should have thought about this earlier because you’re running out of time right now.

“...mind handing me your phone?”

You stare at Gojo, completely and wholly confused, but he just holds out his hand expectantly. When you don’t move, he wiggles his fingers a little, a silent gesture telling you to hurry it up. Without thinking, you reach into your bag and unlock your phone before handing it to him.

“Kind of sucks that cell service isn’t working right now,” he remarks as he types something into your phone before handing it back. “But! Here's my number.”

You look down at your phone and, sure enough, Satoru Gojo has added himself as one of your contacts. He’s even added a little star to the end of his name. That’s… a little unexpected. Why his number though?

“Are you… hitting on me?” you mutter in your confusion.

He laughs, “Well, you said you had something really important to talk to me about, right? So just give me a call when you get home or some time tomorrow and we can talk then!”

You’re not going to make it home, or even to tomorrow, and neither will Satoru Gojo. As you start to tell him this, he steps past you. Desperate, you try to grab him, but somehow, for some reason, you can’t. You remember he did this with Jogo and the other monster, made himself untouchable.

This is not good.

He gives you a little wave, cheery as he says, “I’ll talk to you later!”

You watch, helpless as he hops over the barricade beyond your reach.

Gripping your phone tightly, you take a deep breath. It's fine, it's not like you didn’t expect things to go well anyway.

You'll just have to try again.

Every time you’ve tried to solicit help from Satoru Gojo, it has gone the same way. He just won’t give you the time of day, and in some ways you can’t blame him; he’s clearly here to deal with the monsters down on the platform. You’re fairly certain that he probably thinks that whatever is going on with you is a much lesser issue in comparison.

Plus, it probably doesn’t help that in the times that you’ve approached him, you haven’t been able to articulate yourself particularly well. Once you start talking to him, you just get hit with something akin to stage fright and the connection between your mind and your mouth just stops working. It’s gotten better with each attempt, but…

It’s just so frustrating.

It is interesting that Gojo has given you his number every time, star symbol and all. You’re not sure what kind of person you were expecting him to be, but after witnessing him literally and viciously rip monsters apart, you’d figured he’d be a little more somber. However, in the fragmented conversations you’ve had with him he’s come off as far more friendly and playful than you would have thought. Is he the type of person to get more serious when the situation calls for it? You can’t help but wonder, but ultimately, it doesn’t really matter.

What really matters is that you’re able to convince him to help you.

You have to convince him.

“Excuse me!” you say, stepping in Satoru Gojo’s path. You don’t stutter this time, and your voice is more sure. This is good.

“Yes?”

His head turns in your direction and you gulp. Gojo’s gaze, despite that blindfold of his, still feels just as overwhelming as it did the very first time you approached him. You have no doubt that he’s sizing you up, but there’s just something about it that makes you feel like you’re being picked apart.

You take a deep breath and step closer to him, hoping your voice sounds firm enough as you say, “I need your help. I’m trapped.”

He chuckles a little, “I know, but yours truly is on his way to go beat up the bad guys keeping you all trapped here, so soon enough you’ll be all free to go on your merry little way.”

Right. You were so caught up in your own plight that you nearly forgot that technically you’re not the only one ‘trapped.’ Satoru Gojo obviously knows that everyone else is confined to this station, but you doubt he knows that you’re confined to this night alone.

“That’s not what I mean!” you sputter.

“Then what do you mean?” Gojo asks. Should you tell him that you mean that you’re trapped in a time loop? You’re honestly not sure— in the movies and manga you’ve read about time travel, revealing that sort of thing risks creating a time paradox which seems to be a bad thing. If you have to tell him, you will, but— “Oh, I get it.”

You stare, bewildered. Did you maybe just spew all of that aloud?

Gojo gives you a mischievous smile. “You’re hitting on me, aren’t you?”

“No!” The word comes flying out of your mouth. You can’t deny he’s attractive— you’ve thought it all this time, but that is not what’s happening here.

“No need to be embarrassed,” he continues, ignoring you. “I totally get it, so if you want, I’d be happy to give you my number!”

Again? There’s really something odd about how he keeps giving you his number. Part of you wonders if he’s got some sort of ulterior motive, but you haven’t thought too deeply about it. There are way more important things going on.

“I don’t need your phone number,” you say. “I need to talk.”

Your response seems to give Gojo pause. Did you somehow manage to get through to him? No way. Your suspicions are all but confirmed when he gives you that familiar apologetic smile.

“Like, I said, I’m sort of in the middle of something, but…” Gojo reaches into his pockets and rummages around until one hand fishes out a folded up piece of paper. The other hand keeps digging around in his pocket and when Gojo seems to give up on whatever he’s looking for, he turns his attention back to you. “Got a pen?”

What?

Gojo tilts his head. “Well?”

“I do, but…” You trail off, unsure why he’s asking.

He holds out his hand waiting for you to just hand him the pen. You still don’t get it, but you reach into your bag’s front pocket and pull out the pen and hand it to him. Gojo looks almost like an excited child when he takes it from you, quickly scribbling something onto his paper before shoving it and your pen back into your hand.

You look at the paper; it looks like a receipt. For a disturbing amount of mochi that Gojo bought earlier today. The amount of money he spent is almost sickening; way too much to be paying for mochi. More importantly, you notice something juxtaposed over the receipt’s print.

It’s Satoru Gojo’s name and number.

He even drew a little star next to his name.

“If you change your mind later, just give me a call!” he tells you cheerily. “I promise I’ll make it worth your while!”

You gawk at him. He cannot be serious. You literally just told him that you didn’t need it and yet he still gave it to you. He must want you to contact him later, but you can’t even begin to understand why. It can’t have been something you said or did, right? Unless, he’s actually—

“Later!” Gojo’s voice cuts through your thoughts and you notice him walking off with a wave.

You can’t let him get away.

Again.

You crush the receipt in your hand and rush after him. Despite the crowd, Gojo seems to move through the people with ease and it almost seems like they are yielding to him naturally. It’s good for you. Makes him easier to chase.

“Wait!” you yell, but Gojo doesn’t even look back. Bastard. Your muscles strain as you try to run faster. You know you won’t be able to grab him if you get to him, but there has to still be something you can do to stop him. Circle around him? Cut him off before he—

Satoru Gojo reaches the barricade.

“Wait!” you yell again. “Satoru Gojo, wait!”

He does not even acknowledge you.

You’re almost there though. Almost. If you reach out your hand, then maybe, maybe you can grab him. Something in your head tells you that it’s useless; you’ve never been able to touch him. But, you don’t care, you don’t care because you have to try. You stretch out your hand, desperate and hoping, but just as you do, Gojo effortlessly jumps over the barricade, moving to survey the crowd.

Due to your momentum, you almost collide into the barricade, but you manage to stop yourself. You stare at Satoru Gojo through the glass. He watches the crowd for at most three minutes. Is this just another bust? Is there really nothing you can do? There must be a way you can get his attention. Is it possible to climb over the barricade? No, it’s too high. There’s nothing you can grasp onto or use as footing either.

This fucking sucks.

Another minute or two and Gojo will be on the move again, and there will be no way you can follow, no way you can get his attention. You press your hands against the glass, pushing against it. Naturally, it doesn’t budge. Why would it? If only you could get it out of the way. If only you could break it. This stupid barricade is the only thing between you and Satoru Gojo and there’s no way you can climb it, but if only you could break it.

If only you could fucking break it.

Suddenly, the glass feels warm. Satoru Gojo’s image starts to look a little distorted as the warmth beneath your fingers grows. Something is happening. The glass starts to vibrate and shake. Violently. The tremors grow stronger and stronger. You should stop. You should back away.

You don’t.

The barricade starts to crack and fracture and soon the sound of shattering glass resounds throughout the entire room. Everyone starts screaming. No one knows what’s going on— not even you. But you don’t care. It’s gone. The barricade is gone.

You take a step forward, toward Satoru Gojo. He’s on a beam that’s about a two meter drop from where you’re standing. That’s fine. That’s okay. You can make it. You have to. Without a second thought, you jump—

And you land on the beam. You look up and Satoru Gojo’s attention is back on you. He’s finally, finally turned toward you, face twisted into an expression you can’t decipher or even comprehend, but—

Something’s wrong; your world is turning on its axis, but—

Satoru Gojo is looking at you, and—

Up is very quickly becoming down, and—

Satoru Gojo is coming closer, but—

You’re slipping—

But he’s right there, and—

You’re falling, but—

He’s trying to catch you, but—

It’s too late. It’s too late.

The last thing you think you feel—

—is Satoru Gojo’s arms around you.

It’s October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.

And you are causing a commotion.

“Shit! Fuck!” you curse loudly. The people near you start to shift away but you barely notice; you don’t really care.

You were so close, so fucking close and yet… yet here you are again. It’s quarter past eight and you are back on the goddamn platform. You don’t know what happened; you remember falling and thinking you were going to die, but you are absolutely certain that, once again, this time, you didn’t die.

Is Satoru Gojo at fault again? Did he do something? Like he did all those other times you looped without dying? When you think about it more, you don’t think so. You don’t know what happened; all you know is that you tried to get to him, but you slipped.

And he caught you, you definitely remember that.

You still don’t understand why you looped, but there’s not much you can do about it now; it’s not like you can go back anymore. It just sucks, because you think he might have actually listened if you’d talked to him.

Or he would have come after you for… whatever happened with the barricade. It could have been taken as an attack on the crowd… But if he thought you were doing that, then why would he catch you?

You don’t know.

All you know is that you have to try again.

The only problem is that you don’t know how you managed to shatter the barricade. You think about it as you make your way up to where you’ll find Satoru Gojo. There is the possibility that it wasn’t you and something else happened to it instead, but that feels way too coincidental. It had to be you. That’s the only thing that makes sense. You just can’t figure out how you did it outside of wanting, wishing, praying for the barricade to break. It’s not like you have supernatural powers like Satoru Gojo and his enemies.

Despite your mind being completely and wholly occupied by trying to figure out how in the world you managed to break through that barricade, you still manage to make it to the second basement floor of Shibuya Hikarie by 8:25PM— a brand new record. Satoru Gojo doesn’t show up until around 8:34PM, so that gives you almost ten minutes to try and figure out what you need to do to try and replicate shattering the glass barricade again.

Except—

Except Satoru Gojo is already here.

The thought that maybe you’re mistaken flashes in your mind before it’s quickly dismissed; there’s no way you’d mistake anyone else for him. There is absolutely no denying it: that is Satoru Gojo. Bewildered, you double check the time on your phone. Maybe you misread it and you’re actually late but sure enough you read it right— Satoru Gojo is here early.

What the hell is going on?

Of the thousands of times you have experienced this night, this hell, this sort of thing has never happened before. Everything happens at a specific time, as if adhering to an unseen schedule. It’s likely that what happened in your last iteration did delay Satoru Gojo’s arrival onto the platform, but other than that there has never been a deviation to the time table.

And yet, here Satoru Gojo is, nine minutes early now.

You realize that that’s not the only thing that’s strange: he’s not moving. In previous rounds, when you encounter Gojo here, he’s walking to the lookout spot beyond the barricade. But, right now, he’s just standing there, hands stuffed in the pockets of his jacket. It almost looks like he's waiting for something.

Or someone.

This unexpected turn of events has you rooted to the spot. You’re not sure what you should do. No. This shouldn’t change anything. You need to talk to him. As concerning as a change like this is, the extra time it gives you should be a good thing. Despite knowing that, your feet are still firmly planted to the ground.

The crowd shifts and you see Satoru Gojo start to move. Toward the barricade? No. He’s not heading in his usual direction, rather he’s—

You stop breathing.

He’s headed toward you.

He comes to a stop before you, lips curled up to form an amused sort of smile as he says, “Soooo, you needed to talk to me?”

You try to answer but no words come out of your mouth. Are you dreaming? You have to be, right? There's no way that this is actually happening. Could it be that, after thousands of loops, you’ve finally lost it? Your mind shattering along with the glass of the barricade at the end of the last one?

Gojo tilts his head, indicating that he's still waiting for an answer. When you open your mouth, at first, nothing comes out, the words stuck in your throat. You force them out, your voice cracking, “...how did you know?”

He smiles, looking almost mischievous as he reaches up and lightly taps the side of his head. “I remembered, of course!”

All you can do is stare at Satoru Gojo. He remembered? How is that possible? From his perspective, this is the first time you’ve met and while it shouldn’t be possible for him to remember there’s something in your mind that’s keeping you from completely dismissing the possibility.

Gojo laughs, “I take it from the look on your face that you’re not used to this sort of thing happening. Is this the first time?”

“No.” The fact that the word is out of your mouth before you can even really think about it surprises you and you really have to think. Your face scrunches together as you try to remember. Is this really not the first time? Then, the memories assault you, overlapping as they replay simultaneously in your head— a woman in a yellow and white magical girl costume— begging you for help as she burns to death— smiling as she tells you she made her costume herself. “...it happened just once a long time ago.”

“‘A long time ago,’ huh. Sounds like you've been at this for a while now.”

“...unfortunately.”

Gojo hums. “So when you said you didn’t need my phone number…”

“You’d already given it to me a few times,” you say, figuring that’s where this conversation is going.

“Really now?”

Does he not believe you? Or is he just being an ass? You’re not sure, but since you had taken the liberty of memorizing Satoru Gojo’s phone number you recite it back to him to prove your point.

Just when you think you may have stunned Gojo into silence he starts to laugh, obviously finding something funny about the fact that you know his cell phone number. “Seems like you've got quite the fascinating technique there.”

Technique? What is he talking about? Your confusion must be plain on your face because he adds, elaborating, “The time travel.”

You continue to stare at him. You don't think you'd consider what you've been going through time travel, because traveling implies moving from point A to point B, but you've been stuck walking in circles at point A for a long time. What really gets you is… “What do you mean by ‘technique?’”

“You mean you don’t— oh. I get it; no wonder you’re trapped.”

That does not answer your question in the slightest. “Can you please explain what you're talking about? What do you mean by ‘technique?’”

“Right, right… So basically, a technique is like a special sort of power,” he finally explains. “Like I said, your technique seems to be a kind of time travel. Whenever you activate it, your mind is sent back in time.”

What he's saying makes sense, but… “How come you were sent back too?”

He laughs again. “Isn't it obvious? Think back to before— do you remember that I caught you as you were falling?”

You nod slowly. The memory of his arms around you is almost embarrassingly vivid. “...is it because we were touching?”

“Ding, ding, ding! That's correct! Anyone you happen to be touching when you activate your technique gets affected by it too!”

Something about his tone annoys you, but you try to ignore it. He could have just told you rather than make you guess. “How do you know that for sure?”

“Well,” he continues. “You’ve done your little time loop a bunch of times, right? If your technique affected everyone, or even a few people in a select range you would have noticed for sure. And if it affected only just you then we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now, now would we?”

When you think about it, you do think that the woman in the magical girl costume might have bumped into you before the loop where she remembered.

“That’s honestly just conjecture, but I've got pretty good eyes, so I’m hardly ever wrong.”

Gojo gives you a grin and while you do think that his reasoning is sound enough his confidence is a little grating. More than that, though, you’re glad that this conversation is actually going really well.

“Either way,” he says thoughtfully. “It doesn’t look like you can control your technique. Usually a person’s technique manifests when they’re a kid, but you seem to be a special case… in fact, I bet your technique activated for the very first time tonight— probably under some pretty extreme circumstances, too.”

“...dying counts as an ‘extreme circumstance,’ right?”

“Oh, absolutely. Or legitimately thinking that you’re gonna die, but it seems like your body has been unconsciously activating your technique as a sort of defense mechanism. Which is why you’re trapped.”

“So, if I could control it I’d be able to make it out of this time loop.”

“Yeah, but in this case it probably wouldn’t end very well for you,” he points out with a chuckle. “It’s not like you actually want to die, right? I mean, if you did, then your technique wouldn’t even activate in the first place.”

You don’t; what you want is for this night to finally end. To be free from the endless cycle of dying over and over again and again. You don’t think death is quite the answer; even if you were to learn how to control this supposed technique of yours, there’s no guarantee that you would just unconsciously activate it when the grim reaper comes knocking on your door. No, the answer is…

“Anyway!” Gojo’s cheery voice cuts through your thoughts. “I highly doubt that you’re the type that makes a habit of jumping off ledges for the funsies, so the fact that you’ve been dying tells me that some pretty gruesome stuff is about to go down, so, tell me what happens tonight.”

The sudden drop of his voice sends a shiver running down your spine. If it weren’t for the fact that you’ve seen how serious Gojo can get, the sudden shift in demeanor would probably freak you out a bit, but it doesn’t. This is the Satoru Gojo you’re familiar with.

You do have one concern though. “That… won’t create a time paradox or anything, will it?”

“Nah,” Gojo shrugs. “You wouldn’t cause one with the way your technique works, besides, if you’ve only been going back at most an hour or two in time it’s hard to believe you’d be making a really big impact… unless you really believe in the butterfly effect.”

You’re still not quite sure.

“Trust me, it’ll be fine.”

His voice sounds strange. Gentle. Kind. It's the most soothing thing you've heard in a long time and it makes you want to believe him.

“...okay.”

Anxiety is still gripping at you, but you try to dispel it, taking a deep breath before beginning your explanation. For the sake of brevity, it’s probably best that you’re as concise as possible. There isn’t much need to really get into the nitty gritty of things unless he asks specifically.

Naturally, you begin with his arrival onto the platform and how soon after a fight breaks out and how the crowd is unfortunate enough to be involved. Gojo’s expression is passive for the most part, but he does crack the faintest hint of a smile when you mention how he manages to eviscerate one of the monsters.

It disappears once you tell him about the arrival of the train. Between the dozens upon dozens of people being dropped onto the platform by those two high school girls and the hoard of monsters disembarking from the train, everything devolves into pandemonium.

“Wait,” Gojo holds a hand up and you pause. This is his first interruption since you started recounting the night’s events for him. “Everyone is able to see the monsters?”

You stare at him. What a weird question. “...yeah?”

His mouth twists and it looks like he’s thinking about something. You can’t even begin to imagine what. Finally, he comments, “Makes sense.”

It does not, but you don’t ask him to elaborate. Surely if it was important he would have just done so.

“Anyway, in the middle of all that, you… you do something.” Your brows bunch together as you remember the stance Gojo took, the crazed and desperate look in his eyes, the feeling of your head about to explode. “I don’t know how to describe it. At first, it would just force me to… activate my technique, I guess. But now, it just knocks me out for a few minutes.”

Gojo frowns and he rubs at his chin, obviously thinking about what you’ve said. Eventually, he raises a hand and bends his fingers into a familiar gesture. It’s the one that preludes whatever he does on the platform. “Do I do this?”

“Yeah.”

He hums. “Interesting.”

You wait to see if he’ll explain. He doesn’t. Great. Even if he doesn’t think you need to know, it certainly would be nice to. It’s annoying otherwise, but you ignore the feeling and continue. “I can’t tell you what happens when I’m knocked out, but when I come to everyone is basically a zombie and all the monsters from the train are gone. I think you kill them.”

“I probably do,” he says casually. “But what about Volcano Head?”

“...you don't…get a chance to kill him,” you say slowly. Gojo tilts his head, waiting for you to elaborate, but you hesitate. You have to tell him, you know you do, but…

You have seen the interaction so many times and though you don't know the exact nature of the relationship between them, you can tell that seeing Suguru Geto (or rather seeing his body) shook Satoru Gojo to his very core.

There's no doubt in your mind that he will not take this news well.

“Come on now,” Gojo's tone is light-hearted, unaware. “Don't keep me in suspense here.”

It's as if you're withholding the punchline to a joke. In a way, you suppose you are, but you don't think he's going to find it funny.

You take a deep breath. You need to tell him. The worst thing that could happen is that he doesn't believe you, but if that's the case… you'll probably just end up repeating this all again until you find a loop where he does.

Having made it this far, you'd like to avoid all that.

“Before you can get Volcano Head you get restrained by something called the prison realm,” you say slowly, “by someone calling themselves… Suguru Geto.”

The second the name leaves your mouth, there is a clear and obvious shift in the air. Gone is Gojo’s laid-back and frivolous demeanor, replaced with something more somber and almost frightening. The tension grows more and more palpable to the point that you think it might almost choke you.

You almost wish that it would.

“You can’t be serious,” Gojo finally says, once your words have fully sunk in.

“I—” You start to speak, but come to an abrupt stop when you see him shove his hand into his pocket to yank out his phone of all things.

The both of you know full well that there’s no reception here, but you don’t think that he’s planning on making any calls. Gojo scrolls and scrolls on his phone before he stops and shoves the screen in your face. It shows a picture of three people— a teenage girl with a cigarette in her mouth, a younger, happier version of Gojo sporting a pair of round sunglasses and—

“When you say ‘Geto’ is this who you’re referring to?” Gojo demands, using his other hand to point at the third person in the frame— a handsome young man with long dark hair pulled up into a bun.

“Yes, but—”

“That’s impossible. It can’t be him,” Gojo interrupts, his voice firm, cold even. “He’s dead.”

There’s a note of finality in his words that is definitely meant to leave no room for argument. It doesn’t stop you, though. Instead, you glare at Gojo’s stupid blindfold and say, “...being dead doesn’t mean a damn thing! I’ve died hundreds of times and yet I’m still fucking here, but—”

“Your situation is different,” he interjects, the temperature of his tone hiking up, his words like heated hissing. “I killed him almost a year ago. There's no way—”

“You didn't get rid of the body properly!” You cut him off, raising your voice in hopes that he'll take even just a second to stop and listen. It seems to work and you add something you remember ‘Geto’ saying. “You should have had Shoko Ieiri get rid of it, but you didn’t and now some… some kind of gross brain thing is possessing the corpse!”

The air between you both is silent as the grave. Though you can't see it, you can feel the weight of his gaze pressing down on you. He’s definitely having second thoughts about everything you’ve said so far. There’s a chance he might even think you’re his enemy now. You stare him down though, refusing to look away. You’ve made it this far, you can’t— you won’t back down.

“...you’re not lying, are you.” Gojo’s words are more of a statement than a question. There’s no doubt in your mind that he knows the answer, and yet he’s still asking. You wonder if maybe he’s clinging onto some vain hope that maybe, just maybe this all a sick, cruel joke that’s gone way too far.

“I’m not.”

Gojo holds your gaze for a second longer before he lets out a curse. “Fuck!”

“...I’m sorry,” you say quietly, mostly because it feels like the most correct thing to say at this moment. You don’t know the whole story, but it seems like they were close. If so, then it must have hurt Gojo a lot to have killed him, and must hurt even more to know that someone is desecrating the body. You hate that you, a complete and utter stranger, happened to be the person to tell him, but…

It had to be done, for the sake of getting past this unending night, it had to be done.

Gojo runs a hand through his hair and lets out a ragged sigh. “Okay. What happens after that?”

You give him a rundown of what follows; he gets sealed, the monsters wake up and all but ‘Geto’ leave in search of their next target. When you mention the high school girls demanding the brain give Geto’s body back, Gojo snorts loudly.

“Fat chance of that,” he says derisively.

You nod in agreement. It was clear to you that the brain parasite has no intent on giving it up any time soon. “After they leave, he… talks to me.”

“Probably couldn't ignore all that cursed energy you have,” Gojo remarks offhandedly.

You stare at him, expression twisted in a way that shows that you have absolutely no clue what that means. It should be fine for you to ask this one question; it actually concerns you after all. “What does that even mean?”

“Exactly what it sounds like, though… probably doesn't make much sense to you, does it?”

You give him a pointed glare and all Gojo does is laugh.

“Just think of it like having a lot of MP.”

“...Like in a video game?”

“Exactly!” Then, Gojo tilts his head, clearly thinking. You don't bother asking; you don't feel like he'll explain.

“He does ask me if I'm a sorcerer, whatever that is. Is that why?”

“Probably. Ordinary people don't have even a fraction of the energy you're packing.”

‘Ordinary people’ he says as if you’re not an ordinary person who got caught up in all this supernatural sorcery bullshit. Or at least you were, but if the time loops are really a product of your own doing…

“Does he kill you when you answer?” Gojo asks to get the conversation back on track.

“Not right away. What happens next kind of varies,” you answer. “He usually lets me have a question or two before he kills me; I've asked him a couple different things.”

“Really taking advantage, aren’t you?” Gojo says and you're not sure what to make of his tone. Is he mocking you or is he easing back into that laid-back persona of his?

“If I’m doomed to repeat the same situation over and over, I might as well make the most of it,” you respond flatly.

“You know, your technique kind of reminds me of save scumming.”

He’s definitely gone back to acting almost completely unserious— all signs of his earlier agitation are nearly gone.

“So what did you learn?”

“Well, the prison realm only holds one occupant. Once they’re sealed, time stops for them and the only way out is if the bearer unseals them or if they choose to kill themselves.”

“I see… And what about our body jacker?”

“He didn’t go into detail but he said something about… striving toward the evolution of mankind?” You frown a little at the memory. He didn’t explain further because he said that you wouldn’t understand.

“Huh. Interesting. Wonder how he was gonna go about doing that.”

“I don't know, but I can't imagine you'd like it since he goes out of his way to seal you into that box,” you say. “Said you’d get in the way because you’re too strong.”

Gojo shrugs his shoulders and grins a little. Cocky. “Well, I am the strongest sorcerer around, you know.”

You would think him overconfident if you hadn't seen the magnitude of his strength first hand.

“Anyway, that's as far as I ever go. When he's decided he’s done talking to me, he kills me and I loop back.”

“So, in short, what you want help with is getting past that point, right?”

“More or less.”

“And all I have to do is avoid getting caught by the prison realm?”

You nod.

“What’s it look like?” he asks. “A big cage with a bunch of metal bars?”

Now that you think about it, you haven’t woken up early enough to see it before it traps him, but you can’t imagine it looks that much different. “No.. It’s a small box with eyes… It gets big enough to fit you in it, though.”

“Huh.” He stretches his arms out above his head as if he’s trying to emphasize how large he actually is and shoots you a grin. “Should be easy enough then. I bet our body snatcher used the shock of seeing Suguru to trap me but since I'll see it coming, avoiding it'll be a piece of cake.”

Gojo makes it sound so easy, and maybe it really is as simple as that, but you can't help but be worried still.

“Don't tell me you don't think I can do it,” he says, tilting his head.

“It's not that,” you admit. “I'm just concerned I might die before we can get to that point.”

Truthfully, since you know that will just result in another loop you're less concerned with dying itself and more worried about losing the progress you've made in convincing Gojo to help you. Even though it's been clearly proven you can loop him as well, there's no guarantee you'll be able to make the physical contact needed to do it upon death.

“You've made it pretty far on your own, though, right?”

“Yeah, but… I’ve messed up plenty of times.” More than you can even count. “There's also the possibility that taking the time to talk to you might have thrown things out of whack.”

Speaking of time, you check your phone. It's 8:39PM. You curse.

Gojo leans over to check your phone. “Let me guess, I'm supposed to be somewhere right now.”

“Yeah, this is when you’re descending down onto the platform.”

“You know where I am down to the exact minute?” He asks and you tilt your head back and forth a little. It’s not exact per se, but it’s close enough. Gojo chuckles a little. “Man, I didn’t realize that you were actually that into me.”

That earns Gojo a glare from you, but he just laughs it off. “I doubt being a few minutes late is going to make a big difference.”

You certainly hope so.

“Don't worry,” Gojo says and you notice he's using that tone from earlier. “You won't die.”

It’s hard to argue with him when he uses such a reassuring sounding voice and yet, you still open your mouth to try— to voice your doubts, but what he says next silences you before you even can.

“I'll protect you.”

You think your heart stops beating in your chest and your words dissolve in your throat.

He grins at you. “Did you fall in love with me just now?”

That catches you a little off guard. You're willing to admit he's hot, but surely he must be joking. “How could you even think of something like that at a time like this?”

Gojo laughs again. “Well, since someone is so worried about their time table being all messed up, I better head down there; can’t keep Volcano Head and friends waiting, right?”

You blink. Is that it? “Wait, shouldn’t we make a plan or something?”

“Isn’t the plan for me to not get caught in the prison realm?”

Yes, but… “But what about me? Is there anything I can do?”

Gojo stares at you, or at least you think he does. “...I don’t know, is there?”

You’ve seen the encounter between Satoru Gojo and those monsters so many times and you try to picture a version of it where you intervene and… all you can see is yourself getting in his way. You’re no fighter, no… sorcerer, or whatever he is, you’re just some ordinary person that was unfortunate enough to get all caught up in this mess. The most you can probably do is kick the prison realm out of the way when the time comes, but otherwise… “...no, I guess not.”

His expression turns sympathetic. “You’ve done plenty by telling me everything that happens. So just wait up here, and let me handle the monsters.”

You almost nod. Almost. But then you remember what transpires up here above the platform. You know it sounds safer up here where you’re less likely to get involved in the carnage, but… “Wait, no, if I stay up here then I’ll fall to my death when those girls—”

Gojo laughs, interrupting you. “Don’t worry about that. It’ll be fine.”

“How?”

“Just trust me.”

“I…” It’s hard to. After everything you’ve gone through it’s hard to trust in anything, to believe in anything. Even though you’ve made it this far this time, the worry that something will go wrong and that you’ll have to do it all again still lurks in the back of your mind.

Despite all that, you want to believe.

You want to believe that you can make it past this unending night, that one day you’ll wake up and it’ll no longer be October 31, 2018. And the first step towards that is trusting in Satoru Gojo.

“...okay,” you say quietly. “Okay.”

Gojo chuckles then asks, “Anything else before I head off?”

You start to ask if there’s anything you should say, in case things don’t work out, but you stop yourself. You’re choosing to trust him, to believe in him— you can figure out that stuff later if things end up going south after all. So, instead you give him a smile and it feels a little weird because you don’t remember the last time you did. “Good luck!”

For a split second, Gojo looks almost surprised, but then he laughs again, beaming widely at you. He starts to move past you and reaches out to give you what you think is meant to be a reassuring squeeze of the shoulder and then he’s off. You turn to watch him go, the crowd, once again, parting almost naturally for him.

When he reaches the barricade, he pauses, raising his hand as if he’s giving you one last wave. Then he jumps over it onto his little perch and then less than a minute later he’s gone, descending to the platform below.

Now, all you can do is wait.

You check your phone again and it’s 8:44PM. If you remember correctly, the high school girls start threatening everyone right before 9PM. With Gojo’s arrival being shifted back almost five minutes, does that mean that they’ll be shifted back too? It would make sense, but you’re not too sure.

Out of habit, you keep checking your phone and at nearly 9PM, you hear the shrill voice of one of the girls over the crowd, commanding everyone to do what she says, her partner stringing up bodies until everyone listens. Everything plays out just as you remember it, which is mildly comforting, though you know that the events that happen up here are more or less independent from what happens below.

Surely, just as Gojo said, a few minutes aren’t going to change anything, but—

No.

You agreed to trust him. To trust that everything would be fine.

When the girls start to demand that as many people as possible climb onto the roots and vines covering the atrium your heart starts to hammer in your chest. In just a few minutes, all the foliage will disintegrate beneath you, and you and everyone else here will fall into the abyss below.

You are afraid.

There isn’t a single loop where you’ve really survived this fall. If you don’t die in midair, you die right after landing. It’s a death trap, and that’s why you’ve stopped coming up here. There’s a part of you, the part that knows what’s about to happen, that wants to try and run back onto stable footing. But you can’t, because you know if you do then the girls will kill you for sure; you have to stay.

It’ll be fine, you tell yourself, it’ll be okay.

You just have to trust Gojo.

An eight car train is pulling in. Please wait behind the yellow line.

You hear the announcement faintly below you. It’s almost time. You brace yourself and try to stay calm. Gojo said he would protect you, that you wouldn’t die. You don’t know how he intends to keep that promise, but all you can do is believe in his words.

It’ll be fine. It’ll be okay.

The vines and roots start to crack and the ground beneath you starts to give out. You squeeze your eyes shut as that sickening weightless feeling overtakes you. It occurs to you that this is actually quite literally a trust fall— will Satoru Gojo really be able to catch you?

As you fall, you realize almost instantly that something is different.

You’ve experienced this fall dozens of times and so, even though it has been a while since you’ve gone this route, you are very familiar with what it feels like. Something is different. You’re falling faster. The trajectory is changing. It’s like some force, other than gravity, is pulling at you.

Is this Gojo’s doing?

Just as your body collides with the ground you hear the sounds of mutilating flesh meld with the screams surrounding you. Blood and severed limbs litter the ground, but you try to ignore it. You need to focus on your own survival right now. Quickly, you scramble to your feet scan the area around you; you’re on the platform right now and right in front of you is—

Right in front of you is Satoru Gojo.

His back is turned to you, his focus currently elsewhere. Looking at him you realize you recognize this scene, though it’s much closer and at a different angle. He’s about to do that thing, that thing that knocks you out.

Something in you tells you to move closer to him, after all, he used his mysterious powers to deliberately bring you closer to him, right? You rush toward him and as you do something he said earlier pops up in your mind.

Anyone you happen to be touching when you activate your technique gets affected by it too!

Whatever he’s about to do… Is that his ‘technique?’ And if it is, would it work the same way as yours? If so, there’s only one way to find out: you need to touch him. You dodge monsters and other people as you run toward Satoru Gojo and—

A monster still manages to grab you, its large hands wrapping around your wrist. You try and yank it free, but it's much stronger than you are.

“Shit!” you hiss as the monster starts to pull you toward it and away from Gojo. What do you do? Your other hand is still free, should you try to punch it in the face? Or—

Before you can do anything, something blasts the monster’s head clean off. Shocked, you stare as the monster’s body slumps onto the ground, its grip loosening on you instantly. You whip your head around to find that while Gojo still has his back to you, his arm is bent back in your direction, his palm open as if he fired some invisible blast from it.

Then you feel it again, something pulling at you, but this time it's more forceful. Your body is yanked toward Gojo and the second you feel his hand press against you, you see him make that gesture with his other hand.

“Domain Expansion,” he whispers in a strained voice. “Infinite Void!”

Something happens and your vision flashes for a fraction of a second. And then—

The room is enveloped in an eerie stillness; all the violence and bloodshed coming to an abrupt stop. Monsters and humans alike stand like the living dead, unconscious with their eyes wide open as if they are staring into an infinite abyss. You recognize this scene, you’re familiar with it because it’s similar to the one you wake up to after being hit by Gojo’s ‘domain expansion.’ The only difference is the presence of the monsters, who are all but gone when you regain consciousness.

The pressure from Gojo’s hand is gone and he says to you, his voice still low. “If you’re squeamish when it comes to blood and gore, it might be best for you to close your eyes.”

And then he’s gone.

You do not take his advice. You do not close your eyes. How many loops were you unable to witness what’s about to unfold? A few hundred? A few thousand? And if all goes to plan, then you will never get another chance again: there’s no way you could possibly look away.

And what you see unfold before you is that Satoru Gojo was right.

He is the one to kill all the monsters.

It’s not as if you really had any doubt, after all, it seemed like the most logical conclusion to come to and yet…

There’s a difference between knowing and seeing.

All the violence resumes and the platform is engulfed in the sounds of carnage and slaughter once more. The lack of terrified screams makes everything more disconcerting— without them, all you can hear is the squelching echo of mangled flesh and blood splattering all over the place. You can’t really see him, but you can tell where Satoru Gojo is in the crowd as he leaves dozens upon dozens of decapitated heads soaring in his wake. Once or twice, he leaps out of the crowd and even from where you stand you can see the crazed glow of his inhumanly blue eyes as he massacres monster after monster.

Even though you don’t think you have anything to be scared of, you are still terrified: Satoru Gojo is no longer a man, but violence incarnate. You want to move closer to where Gojo gets trapped, but you’re afraid to. What if you get in his way? What if he kills you by accident?

Dying again when you’ve made it this far is definitely not ideal, but isn’t being killed by Gojo the best case scenario? Because then the two of you would probably loop together again and—

No.

Gojo said you wouldn’t die.

He said he’d protect you.

It’s hard to believe when he’s in the middle of a massacre, slaughtering monsters left and right, but you remind yourself yet again that you have to believe in him.

You take a deep breath and start moving, taking care to keep an eye on where Gojo is. You don’t know how long this is supposed to take, but you do know where he ends up when he’s just about done. The closer he gets to that spot, the sooner the prison realm will be unleashed upon him.

There’s a small group of zombified people nearby and you settle yourself among them. It’s not super close, but you think it's close enough that you'd be able to run over and kick the box away from Gojo if you have to. You do a quick survey to see if you can spot the body snatcher, but he's nowhere to be found. Hopefully, he hasn't noticed you moving around, or, if he has, he's more concerned with Gojo than he is with you. Given that you always seem to be the last thing he acknowledges, you'd like to think that he doesn't consider you a threat.

Which you're not, not really anyway.

The sounds of slaughter start to die down and you look to see Gojo approaching the spot where he gets caught. He looks beat, his eyes unfocused and his breathing heavy. You do another quick scan around him and notice a small box a few meters away from him, wrapped in what looks like paper charms or seals or whatever they're called. That has to be the prison realm— though it looks different than what you saw before. Gojo seems to notice it right after you do, his gaze honing in on it, examining it with some measure of bewilderment. Then, some invisible force slices through all the paper seals covering the box and it expands, the corners of the box floating up in midair to reveal what looks like a large sheet of dark red flesh with a large bloodshot eye stapled to the middle.

Disgusting.

If Gojo didn’t realize before, he seems to now, because he takes a step back, away from the grotesque thing. Good, good—

“Hey! Satoru!” Your blood runs cold at the sound of the body snatcher’s voice. He emerges from the crowd, smiling widely as he gives Gojo a wave. “Long time no see!”

Satoru Gojo’s entire body goes rigid. Shit. You told him, you warned him about what was going to happen, who he was going to see, but was that not enough? It’s possible that no amount of warning would have been enough to mentally prepare Satoru Gojo for the sight of the man he said he killed a year ago. After all, you know that there’s a stark difference between knowing and seeing. Even then, if Gojo doesn’t gather his wits and move now then he’s going to get caught and you can’t let that happen.

Your body moves before you can even think about it.

You scramble out from your hiding spot in the crowd and throw yourself in between Satoru Gojo and the prison realm. There’s no way you can kick it away from him now, not when it’s in this form, but maybe, if you get between them you can at least keep it from capturing him.

The eye quivers erratically, as it flits from Gojo to you. Every hair on your body stands on end as it watches you, the pupil dilating and contracting uncontrollably. You can’t look away from it, your own gaze fixed to your image reflected in the black abyss of the pupil. Something in the back of your mind tells you to stop, to get away, it’s dangerous, but you keep your feet firmly planted to the ground.

A second, or maybe even a minute passes and the prison realm shifts, its fleshy form morphing to restrain you.

The body jacker looks at you, his frown tinged with disgust. “Don’t you think you’re being rather rude by butting into what could have been a touching reunion?”

You scowl. Is he still trying to play the role of Suguru Geto?

He sighs and looks past you at Gojo. “Satoru, I thought bringing lesser sorcerers to fight alongside you was more trouble than it was worth?”

You hear Gojo snort from behind you, “It is… but this person here isn’t a sorcerer… Just like you aren’t Suguru Geto.”

The faker almost pouts and presses his hand to his chest as if Gojo's words have wounded him. “Satoru, I’m hurt, how could you say such a thing to your best friend?”

“Cut the bullshit,” Gojo snarls. “You can’t fucking fool me. You might be in Suguru’s body but I know with all my heart and soul that you’re not him.”

The corpse snatcher stares at Gojo, expression blank before he sighs once more. Then, his gaze shifts back to you, his eyes narrowed as he looks at you with sheer disdain. It feels as if you’ve been drenched in ice cold water. There's no smile this time but you already know what's going to happen.

He’s going to kill you.

“I intended to deal with you later since you seemed harmless enough,” he says, raising a hand to summon a monster— the same one he always uses to end your life. “But you’re in the way. So, I think it’s for the best if I just get rid of you right now.”

Instinctively, you try to take a step back but the prison realm’s restraints keep you in place. Not that it would have mattered much, even in the loops where you’ve tried to escape the faker’s monster, it still kills you, too fast and too agile for an ordinary human like you to avoid. All you can do is squeeze your eyes shut and wait for the monster to kill you. At least, it’s always painless.

Something touches your back.

Your eyes shoot open.

Before you is the monster, wiggling and writhing only mere centimeters from your face. It gurgles and snarls at you, desperate to fulfill its master’s wishes and kill you but it doesn’t move any closer. You stare at it with wide eyes, unsure of what to do.

Someone behind you clicks their tongue— Gojo. You try to turn your head to look at him, but your movements are too limited, the most you can do is turn your head to the side. The sounds the monster is making start to change, sounding more frenzied, almost as if it’s in pain, and you flit your eyes in its direction just in time to see its entire body explode. The monster's guts and bright purple blood fly off in every direction, getting on the floor, the ceiling, the zombified bodies of the people unfortunate enough to be nearby, but not on you.

This is Satoru Gojo’s doing.

He steps in front of you, half turned towards you as he moves in between you and the body snatcher. His hands are shoved in his pockets as he loudly says, “Did you really forget about me?”

You’re not sure if he’s talking to you or the body snatcher.

Past him, the imposter scowls, raising his hand once more, probably to summon even more monsters, but Gojo’s quicker, and it almost looks like his eyes are glowing even brighter, the blue looking almost white as he whips his head in the faker’s direction. The sound of mangling flesh and breaking bones echoes throughout the room as Gojo, using that mysterious power of his, seems to break the faker’s arm.

The body snatcher hisses loudly and despite the fact that his face is twisted in very obvious pain, he tries to shoot Gojo a mocking smile. “Do you really think you can kill your best friend again?”

“I already told you,” Gojo turns to fully face the monster inhabiting Geto’s corpse. He tilts his head a little to the side and some force starts to squeeze at the faker’s neck. “You’re not Suguru.”

You hear a loud crack as Gojo telekinetically snaps his neck.

The head rolls onto the ground and you almost look away, but then you notice his eyes still moving, looking around. Is he still alive? Then you remember: the thing possessing Suguru Geto’s body was some kind of parasite. “Gojo! Wait! The brain!”

He reacts almost instantly, head turning and in an instant the skull is crushed and all that remains is red splotch on the ground.

You almost relax. Almost.

But the body is still standing.

Horrified, you watch as it quivers violently before falling to the ground. Then what looks like dozens of black spirits start to erupt from the corpse and the entire room is engulfed with a shrill howling.

What the hell is going on?

“Those must be all the cursed spirits he consumed,” Gojo explains uselessly, voice barely audible over the screaming. “Guess he was empty before.”

You don’t bother asking what he means. There are bigger problems right now. “What do we do?”

“No choice to exorcise them,” he answers plainly.

For him to exorcise them, he means. You both know that there’s not much that you can do. You still can’t move and honestly, you don’t even know if it’s possible to get out of the prison realm’s restraints. Not without dying. And if you die now…

Everything will have been for naught.

You’ll reset time and have to do this all over again— assuming you can even get to this point again.

There has to be something, you just have to think outside the box.

Or rather—

“Gojo!”

He glances back at you.

“You need to seal me in the prison realm!” you exclaim. He turns to face you fully, looking bewildered and you start to explain as fast as you can. “Those things are going to attack any minute right? I can’t move or try to hide and I can’t expect you to protect me the entire time and if I die then I’ll end up looping time again, but— but, if you seal me in the prison realm then that won’t happen.”

Gojo frowns, looking conflicted. “You don’t think I can do it?”

“Wouldn't it be easier if you didn’t have to?”

He tilts head and you think he’s conceding your point.

“Please,” you beg, staring at him desperately. “We don’t have much time. The other… cursed spirits will wake up soon too!”

You don’t have to explain that you mean Volcano Head and friends.

It takes only a second for Gojo to consider the very few options you have. “...how do you seal it? Do you know?”

“I think so,” you answer. “There’s no guarantee it’ll work but I think that if you say ‘prison realm, gate close’ it should seal me inside.”

If anything, it’s worth a shot.

Gojo nods. “Do you know how to break the seal?”

“I… don’t,” you confess. You never asked, and you don’t think the body snatcher would have told you even if you did. He only told you that it holds one and that…

That time doesn’t flow in the box.

“...you don’t have to break the seal.”

Gojo frowns, “Wait a sec—”

“Even if I make it past tonight… What if this all happens again? What if I inadvertently trap myself in another time loop?” you ask. “I… I don’t want to have to go through all of this again. It’s better for me in a place where time doesn’t pass.”

You don’t know for sure if it’ll be better, but right here, right now, it seems like the best option.

It feels like an eternity passes before Gojo says anything.

“...fine,” he agrees and you don’t quite know how to feel about it. The howling around you all grows louder. You wonder why the cursed spirits haven’t attacked yet. Maybe Gojo’s power is holding them at bay… for now anyway. You both know that he can’t ignore them forever.

“...before I do, though, mind if I ask you just one thing?”

You blink. “Not sure what I can do for you in this state…”

He laughs. “I just want to know your name.”

What an odd request. Though, now that you think about it, you don’t think that during this loop or any other loop really, you’ve ever told him your name. It only seems fair to tell him, since you’ve known his for longer than he’s known of your existence.

You tell him your name.

He nods, looking as if he’s committing to memory. Probably easier to remember than his phone number. “Any last words?”

You try to think of something. Nothing comes to mind and you just shake your head.

Gojo takes a deep breath, “Alrighty then… Prison realm, gate close.”

Just as it did the many times you’ve seen Satoru Gojo sealed away, the boxes and restraints around you vibrate a little before they start to close around you, growing large enough to fit your body as they approach.

You won’t see it, but once you’re inside the box will shrink and become small enough to fit in the palm of someone’s hand.

Will it be quiet inside?

In your final seconds, some words, some last words come to mind, and you say them, hoping that he hears them in time. “Thank you, Satoru Gojo.”

You burn the glittering glow of his brilliant bright blue eyes into your mind.

And then, everything is engulfed in an unending black.

It’s November 30, 2018— morning on the campus of Tokyo Prefectural Jujutsu High School.

Satoru Gojo strides through the school grounds, casually tossing a small silver box with eerie blue eyes known as the prison realm up and down in his grasp. Walking at his side is Shoko Ieiri, a pretty woman who’s been unfortunate enough to have been Satoru’s friend since high school.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Shoko asks, twirling a few strands of her long brown hair.

“What do you mean?” Satoru responds nonchalantly. “All my ideas are good ideas.”

Shoko hums in clear dissent, but doesn’t say anything more. Even she knows better than to try and waste her time trying to argue with Satoru. “I’m just worried about their mental state. Didn’t you say that time doesn’t flow in the box?”

“I’d be worried if it was some normal person,” Satoru says. “But after what they’ve gone through I think they’ll be fine.”

“...well, if you say so.”

The two arrive at their destination: the largest training area on the Jujutsu High grounds. Satoru places the prison realm at the center and takes a few steps back with Shoko standing behind him, in case anything happens.

He doesn’t think it will, but it’s always good to take at least a few precautions.

“Gojo, are you sure we should be doing this?” Shoko asks again. “Didn’t they want to remain in the box?”

“Of course I am,” Satoru says with his usual air of confidence before looking back at the prison realm nestled in the grass. He grins and then—

“Prison realm, gate open.”

if you made it this far. thank you. it's my sincerest hope that you enjoyed the ride.

#gojo x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fanfic

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vienssunshine · 11 months

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What are the Halloween costumes that would drive JJK characters crazy?

pairings: Maki, Choso, and Nanami x fem!reader nsfw: drug use, implied sexual activity

Maki: Black Cat

Maki has no issue with your "costume" being just lingerie and cat ears. Well, you had drawn a little triangle on your cute nose, so she'd give you credit for that. But even so, how could she mind the basic costume when you made it look so good? It's hard to focus on the conversation she's having when the body suit—so tight on your gorgeous silhouette—is riding up on your hips, allowing her to make out the curve of your ass. And just below it, she can see your black thigh highs and how they squeeze your legs, a little bit of your flesh spilling out over the top. With a sight like this, she can't stand there staring the whole time, she has to come over and introduce herself to the pretty girl in the cat costume. You'd giggle your name back to her and do a terrible job of hiding how your eyes flick down to the strong but elegant hands of hers that you just took a drink from. Later in the night, when you two end up pressed together in the closet of someone's house, she would show you how she's quite the cat person and knows how to take care of your pussy.

Choso: Vampire

This boy is emo!!! And so touch starved, so when you're smoking his weed outside of your friend’s party and you playfully threaten to bite his neck, he agrees. With a fanged smile, you pass the blunt back to him and place your hands on his built shoulders so you can close in on your victim. He shudders at the sensation of your breath on his throat, pulse thumping through his neck as he senses you move closer and closer until your fake fangs graze his pale skin. His hand grabs onto your arm, but he doesn’t stop you as you gently bite his flesh. It’s not enough to draw blood, but it still sends a shiver of—fear? excitement? ...arousal?—down his spine. As a thank you for providing make-believe sustenance, you remove your fangs from his neck and plant a gentle kiss in their place, causing his fingers to squeeze around your arm. Your kiss leaves a smear of your red lipstick on his skin, but he doesn’t wipe it off, he likes being marked.

Nanami: Classic Movie Killer

Nanami would find all your little teases about how he should ‘watch out’ because ‘there’s a serial killer on the loose,’ very entertaining. You’d brandish your flimsy plastic knife and draw a line across his throat with it while telling him he should be grateful you haven’t killed him yet since, if you wanted to, you could. He’d cross his arms, showcasing his strong, veiny forearms, and tilt his head with an “Oh yeah?” and watch as you stumble over yourself to double down on your empty threats. Aside from the fact that he would be able to pin you in under a second, he knows it'd be impractical to kill anyone in the skimpy get-up you're wearing. Not that he doesn't like the little 'killer' outfit though, he actually has a hard time keeping his eyes from roaming the bloodied, exposed skin your crop-top and skirt reveal. Of course he’d keep his composure at the Halloween party, but after it he'd take you home and rip off your costume, leaving you bare and naked and dripping with arousal, and it’s only then he'd allow himself to teach you who should be scared of who.

#jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk hcs #nanami kento x reader #kento nanami x reader #maki zenin x reader #zenin maki x reader #choso kamo x reader #kamo choso x reader #maki zenin smut #nanami kento smut #choso kamo smut #jjk x fem!reader #jjk x female reader

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ssorenz · 17 days

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༻ SOREN’S KINKTOBER ☠︎︎ ‘24 .ᐟ

first time writing for kinktober n’ im really excited!! there will be one fic posted each week for the month of october. mainly jjk centric, but if youd like to see other characters, send an ask! ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧ also if you’d like to be tagged, lmk as well!

☾ SLASH HER, SMASH HER?! ༝ toji fushiguro

is going to a frat party really the best idea when there’s a deranged, masked serial killer on the loose? definitely not, but its not like he’ll be there or anything, right?…right?

YOU MUST BE HAUNTING ME! ♱ ༝ choso kamo

who would’ve known your new dorm room had so many perks like great a/c, amazing wifi and— pervy ghost guys?

𓉸 IF I WERE A ZOMBIE.. ༝ suguru geto

oh no! your boyfriend’s been hit with some freaky curse, and now he’s zombified! only problem is he’s craving some brain— juuuust not the one inside your skull…

COME KISS ME AND BITE ME! ༒︎ ༝ satoru gojo

smoking and binging horror movies with your best friend isn’t really the ideal thing to be doing halloween night. . . and you can’t tell if its that fact that you’re sky fucking high, but you could’ve sworn you saw a pair of fangs.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #kinktober #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #toji fushiguro #gojo satoru #choso kamo #suguru geto #ssorenz ᝰ.ᐟ

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pennjammin · 24 days

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my, my, what big teeth you have!

JJK HALLOWEEN! tojixreader

to sum it up ❥ your infuriating roommate has a freaky little secret, and it comes to light when you walk in on him cleaning blood off your apartment floor - coincidentally, after an oversized wolf had just saved your life.

“I know his claws come out when he’s close” 🥴

song inspo: kno one - kevin gates

CONTENT: gvn violence, and they were roommates, paranormal!toji, modernau, mean af toji, werewolf!toji, masochism, pain kinks, degrading/degrading nicknames, overstim, afab!reader, enemies to luvrs, creampie, male receiving, thigh riding, banter.

word count. 9k

@cafekitsune divider <3

“Fuck, kiss me, Toji.”

You feel your hands tangling themselves in the material of his shirt. It’s almost like you are being controlled by strings, like you’re out of your body watching your limbs move on their own accord.

“D’ya even know what y’sayin’ right now, brat?” Toji questions, raising an eyebrow at you, his eyes watching your hands travel over his body.

“Did I fucking stutter?” you grit, softly hitting the large man on his solid chest.

“‘M not gonna turn y’down, but you better remember this tomorrow,” he snaps. “I don’t wanna hear no shit about me taking advantage of you, lil’ girl.”

You roll your eyes. “I will, now quit being a pussy.”

“Yeah, okay,” Toji grunts before gripping you harshly by your throat.

His palm nearly crushes your windpipe as he squeezes the pulse on the sides of your neck. Now with his hand on you, he can and does yank your face towards him. He starts off by biting your bottom lip, pulling a noise from you, which he laughs at.

“Needy bitch,” he says with a demented smile. “Haven’t even done nothin’ yet.”

You lift your hand up to hit him again but he takes his free hand and slams yours back onto your lap. At the moment you gasp, he plunges his lips onto yours. A deep, rough kiss that says he doesn’t want to treat you nicely or make you feel good - he just wants to use you.

But luckily for him, the feeling is mutual.

You groan in frustrated lust, kissing him back harshly for a moment before he begins to move his kisses across your cheek and along the shape of your jaw.

You allow him to do so, not that you have a choice with his hold on your throat.

He loosens his grip and slides his hand down a ways to give himself better access to kiss your neck.

You feel him grunt as he licks the sensitive skin, which makes you whimper, and then he immediately nicks you with his teeth. You let out a soft chirp before he silences you with another wet kiss.

“Well, that was fun,” he says against your mouth, smiling wickedly as he breaks away from you and drops his hand. “But let’s not get carried away, puss.”

You scoff at him before standing up furiously.

“Fucking cockblock,” you growl at him, before storming off to your bedroom, where you help yourself pop the bubble of fire that had grown in your stomach.

You make sure to moan loudly to let him know exactly what he’s missing, and he appreciates it, as he stands outside of your bedroom door and strokes himself to the beautiful noise.

As you cum, there’s only one sentence burning in your mind: You hate Toji Fushiguro.

SIX MONTHS LATER. HALLOWEEN NIGHT.

“Mother Gothel is the victim in Tangled.”

Gojo, your friend, drives you and the lot of your friends down a dark, winding hill. You're on the way home from a party and he's the only one sober; unfortunately this means he’s very obnoxiously himself and trying to push your buttons.

"Here we go," groans Shoko in the back seat.

"Satoru," a voice scolds - Geto. "Please shut the fuck up."

"I will not until you all agree with me," he holds up a long finger, matter-of-factly. "She just wanted her youth. I mean, who doesn't? Then here come these greedy sons of bitches who dig up the WHOLE flower - like, they couldn't just take one petal?"

You groan from the passenger seat and rub your temples. "She tried to kill like, four people throughout the span of the movie, Satoru."

"Yes, because they made her into a villain!" he argues passionately. "She never would've-"

And that's where it ended. The conversation, the car ride and the last normal night of your life.

Nothing but a bright beam of headlights, Satoru shouting as he attempts to swerve, brakes screeching, and then the clang of metal as you drive straight into the guard rail, all four of your bodies lurching forward.

"FUCK!" you distantly hear Satoru shouting, though your ears are ringing to the point you don’t even hear yourself crying out.

The car comes to a jolting stop, and the headlights outside do as well, shining bright in the faces of everyone in Satoru's car.

You glance around and see that everyone is okay, just a little shaken and disturbed. That’s when you jump to get out of the car - nerves aflame.

“Y/N, you could be injured, you shouldn't-”

Geto's voice grows distant as you storm around the mangled car, and your eyes land on a tall blonde and a shocked ginger boy.

"You stupid fucking bitches," you shout, pointing an accusatory finger in the air. "How the fuck didn't you see us?"

A door slams as Gojo gets out of the car to join you, appearing unscathed, except for the fact that his face is still and he has gone quiet; like cracks under ice.

"No, why the fuck were you driving in the middle of the road?" the blonde accuses back, stepping closer, but ultimately maintaining her distance.

"I was not, it was a curve," Gojo grits out. "There's literal signs that tell you to be aware of the curve, because you cannot see what is coming. Your stupid is showing."

"You-"

"It's the middle of the fucking night," you cut her off. "Don't you know you could've sent us flying off the mountain and killed us all?"

The blonde smiles, “You think I have a problem killing people, bitch?”

You lift your hand, balled in a fist, ready to approach the girl, but her hand is already at her hip. Everything happens in slow motion: you notice the black piece in her hand as she raises it into the air. You see her finger pull the trigger. You hear yourself, and your friends screaming. You see a flash of black and white.

The gun goes off, a sharp silver bullet flying out of its barrel. Several moments pass and the air grows quiet. The screams are gone and so is the sound of gunshots.

You take your hands off of your face and look around slowly. You're sure your adrenaline cannot be that high, but you know you can’t feel the gunshot wound.

Then, when you glance up, you see a wolf - not just any wolf, but one that’s pushing the size of Gojo's car.

Gojo begins shrieking and so does everyone else, while you are staring in silent astonishment.

The wolf makes a huffing noise and then you notice it nearly fall to the asphalt, before shaking its head and charging at the girl with the gun.

Her screams of terror pierce the air as she tries to pull the trigger again, but her gun jams.

"Let's get the fuck out of here," she shouts to her compadre, and the two of them scramble into the car, before pulling off while nearly running over you and the wolf.

“Well I'm glad your car still fucking works!” Gojo shouts after them, leaning against what is left of his vehicle.

You rub your eyes, trying to allow your brain to catch up to the series of events that have just taken place. When you do, you see that the wolf has disappeared. Not so much as a trace of fur or a drop of blood.

But... you can't help but wonder what kind of cosmic joke it was that this wolf had just blocked you from a bullet? Almost like it had a conscious, like it knew who you were.

Your body shakes with fear, and your adrenaline sinks you into painful withdrawals.

Geto and Shoko get out of the car and run to both you and Gojo; Shoko taking you into her arms and Geto patting Gojo on the shoulders, asking him if he is okay.

Minutes later, you hear sirens and see flashing lights. You vaguely recall being lifted into an ambulance, but after that, the next memory you have is waking up in a hospital bed, where you are told you have a minor concussion. Then, you get discharged at six in the morning.

A horrible fucking night that had been. Though you passed out for several hours in the hospital, you feel like you've gotten absolutely no sleep. Your body aches and your bed calls your name.

As you clamber in the front door, you realize that you might have disturbed your grouchy roommate. But surely, once you explain to him the hell you've just went through, he will take it easy on you.

Not. You can’t see that man having sympathy at all.

When you finally make it inside, you hardly expect to find what greets you.

Your roommate is very much awake; dark locks shadowing his face, on all fours in nothing but bottoms - dirty, ripped sweatpants. He seems to be covered in filth himself, black spots on his back and arms, mixed with sweat. You grimace.

"Toji?” you say, clearing your throat to get his attention.

He glances over his shoulder at you, but doesn’t stop what he is doing. “Morning.”

You realize now that he is on the floor because he is scrubbing it; his hands hold a soapy sponge that is stained red.

"Why are you cleaning at seven in the fucking morning?" you question, as he hardly cleans in general.

"Trying to keep our security deposit," he grunts, digging his fingernails harder into the wood. You suspect he is not so much scrubbing harder as he is trying to hide his frustration with you.

“Okay…” you say, suspicious. “Did you spill something or what?”

"Spill," he repeats; a low, condescending chuckle punctuating it. "Something like that."

You blink at him. There's something you must be missing, or he wouldn't be acting like that. Or maybe he would. He always talks to you like he thinks you are stupid.

"Anyway, how ya' feelin'?" he asks, redirecting the subject while lifting the sponge to examine the floor - which now that he has moved, you can see is covered in red streaks; some darker than others, like they are older.

"I..." you tilt your head to the side. "I feel fine. Why?"

"That crash looked pretty bad," Toji adds, brows furrowing at the spot that remains on the wood. "Took you a while to come home. Thought you died."

You stare at him, surprised he cared. "Well, you certainly didn’t bother to double check. How'd you know about the crash?"

He turns to look up at you then. "Contrary to popular belief, I do watch the news. I like to see what dumbass things my lovely fellow citizens have gotten themselves into from day to day."

"We were on the news?" you put a hand to your head. You don't remember anything between the wolf and being put in the bright ambulance, not newscasters or anything; but you’re sure Satoru had been eating up the chance to be on live TV.

"Listen, if you're going to stand there and keep asking me stupid questions, at least make yourself nice to look at." He rolls his eyes. "You look like you were hit by the car.”

You ball your fists in frustration, "Oh, you have room to talk. You look like shit yourself.” You feel your body tingle with anger. “Since you think I’m only asking stupid questions, riddle me this: why the hell are you cleaning blood off of my floor, Fushiguro?"

Toji suddenly freezes before he twists his body and pushes himself up to stand. You are tall, but he still towers over you, head nearly rubbing against the hallway ceiling.

You do not cower; instead, your eyes rake his bare torso, unwillingly, and you dig your nails into your palms at the embarrassment you feel. You always gawk at him against your will, daydreaming, ever since that night…

But your eyes come to rest on the large, maroon-crusted gape in Toji's rib cage, and your eyebrows raise to your hairline.

"A man saves your fucking life, and you're worried about a little blood," he gruffs, squeezing the sponge in his hand so tightly that a mix of blood and water is now spilling back onto the hardwood.

He doesn't seem to notice.

“Saved my life?” you ask with a dopey blink, before realizing what he means and shrinking away from him. “You… you were the- the-”

"The, the, the," Toji mocks with his tongue out, tilting his head from side to side tauntingly. "Yes, stupid girl. I took that bullet for you. A silver bullet, might I add, which is why it's taking me forever to fucking heal."

He rubs his hand over the spot and winces. “I bled for hours before my strength started to come back. Didn’t get the chance to shower, either.” He grimaces but you are hardly worried about his hygiene now.

You gulp instead. Your brain flashes memories: the sheer size of the animal as it jumped in front of you, the way it almost fell to the ground after withstanding the bullet, the screams of terror. Your brain goes stark with the overwhelming amount of questions you now have. How did he know where you were? Why the fuck is he able to turn into a wolf?

"You look like a doe in headlights," Toji quips. "Surprised that lycanthropes actually exist? That you've been living with one.” He laughs dryly. “Utter filth to you now, aren't I?"

"N-No," you shake your head quickly, unaware of what exactly you want to say. Normally you would make a quip that he’s always been utter filth to you but the words die in your throat; this is no joking matter.

Toji is mean to you, but he's never hurt you. You always thought he just treated you that way so you wouldn't try to be his friend. It had definitely worked, but now you know the truth behind his actions.

"Right," Toji scoffs. "Not even a thank you, huh?"

"I'm really sorry," you shake your head, still trying to process it. He’s a werewolf. A fucking. Werewolf.

Your head has been running since the moment of the crash. Everything’s happening so fast. What exactly are you supposed to say? Every time you thought you'd gotten a grip on your new reality, something else happens. It had not even been twelve hours since the start of it all.

"How did you know where I was?" you start, trying to pick a single point to build from.

"I Marked you," he shrugs, as if that is not only common knowledge, but also not a big deal.

"What?" you spit.

"Do you recall several months ago when you came home very drunk and we..." his fingers dance in the air as he searches for the word. "I kissed your neck?” He pauses and you nod slowly. “Well, y’were probably too fucked to remember, but I grazed you with my teeth. Not enough to Turn you, but just to claim you, so that I always know where to find you.”

"What?” you repeat the same astonished word as it is the only one that truly conveys your emotions. “You did that so you can fucking track me?”

"So I could protect you," he grunts. "But you're such a bitch. Should've just let you get shot and killed."

He rolls his eyes and bulldozes past you, heading to the kitchen. You follow him. He lets out an exasperated breath, but you could care less that you are annoying him.

"Why would you want to protect me?" you question. "You hate me."

"Exactly," he nods. "I hate you so much that I don't want anyone to be responsible for your harm, or death, except f’me."

You hear the sarcasm in his voice and it makes your blood simmer under your skin.

"You're such a dick," you scream. "You couldn't even ask me before you put some stupid spell on me?"

"It's not a spell," Toji corrects. "And you'd have never gone for it if I'd asked. Sorry, your highness."

"You are so..." you run your fingertips into your roots and scream again.

"Shut up before I give you an actual reason to scream." Toji places the sponge down in the sink and washes his hands before tapping his wet fingers on the countertop.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" you hiss. "You just go on and on about stupid fucking nonsense. First you tell me you're a fucking werewolf, or whatever you are, I don't know! Then you say you put this possession bullshit on me, and now I'm not even allowed to express my fucking feelings about all of it."

Toji laughs. He actually fucking laughs, a piercing crack that makes even the shadows recoil in fear.

You’d been standing between the kitchen and the front door. A whip of motion blur and your spine is hitting the wood of the door. You gasp harshly, a vein on your neck beginning to throb.

Toji tilts his head to the side and laughs at your speechlessness.

“Pathetic human girl,” he snaps. “What would you do without me watching over you?”

You gasp and look up at him, digging your nails into his arms, but it doesn’t even make him flinch.

“I would be just fucking fine,” you spit.

“You sure about that?” he hums. “Don’t know if you’d survive the ghouls and beasts that want your guts for dinner, y’know.” He clicks his tongue before wetting his scarred lips. “Eh, who am I kidding? I don’t give a shit - jus’ like the way my Mark looks on you.”

Your neck throbs again, a searing pain that feels like someone is putting out a cigarette on your skin.

You tilt your head to the side. “Do you? Or do you just like having a permanent reminder of kissing my neck?”

Toji’s body shakes as he laughs at you again. “I could kiss your neck again if I wanted, stupid girl.” He leans forward and huffs out warm breath over the hot Mark on your neck. “Y’know you want me to.”

Your voice gets caught in your throat. You hate this sack of shit so bad. So then, why are you purposely arching your back a bit so that your torso and stomach rubs against his?

“Not if you’re going to keep putting spells on me,” you grit defiantly.

“Brat, it’s not a spell,” he groans. “For fuck’s sake, I grow two times my normal size and gain an obsession with the moon. I don’t practice fuckin’ hoodoo.”

You roll your eyes. “Then you must want me to yourself. I mean, do all lycanthropes have the ability to Mark someone? Does it make you jealous to know someone else could have Marked me?”

Toji is silent for a moment, his eyes avoiding your face. “Fuck no. I told you it’s for your protection.”

“I think you’re lying,” you say tauntingly, lifting your knee up to gently brush the front of his sweatpants. “Oh, is that a gun? Or y’just happy to s-”

“Shut up, brat,” Toji hounds, voice now a few octaves deeper, body twitching slightly at your sudden contact.

You smile, feeling accomplished in knowing you’re getting to him.

“So Toji does feel other things besides anger,” you hum. “Jealousy, possession…”

“Hatred,” he snaps. “I fucking hate you. Hate, hate, hate. Don’t you get that? All I think about is how fucking much I hate seeing your stupid human face.”

You click your tongue, “All you think about is me? Cute.”

He growls again and then backs his body away from you, closing his eyes and shaking his head, dark locks falling on his forehead.

"I need a shower," he says off subject. "You do too. You smell like shit."

You narrow your eyes before dropping your hands from his arms, realizing they'd been unnecessarily lingering. "Are you implying you want me to shower with you?"

"Not even close," Toji turns his back and begins down the hallway. "Don't project your own desires onto me."

And then, he disappears.

When you go to take your shower, you do some pondering under the hot water as it washes away the memories of the last day.

Toji, a werewolf. That would explain his inhuman, sculpted body and height. You wonder, how long has he been one? Is he immortal?

You think of him, in his full wolf form. He had been huge. You wonder if he ever partially transforms and walks around as a human with fuzzy ears and claws. Your stomach tightens at the thought of that, and you smack your head under the water. Don’t be a weirdo, you tell yourself.

You’ve never denied yourself of thinking about Toji. He’s a beautiful man, physically, with his big, squishy pecs and tuggable hair and full lips. You just can not stay turned on for long enough when you remember how awful he is to you.

Except right now, that seems to be turning you on more. He’d saved your life, even if he is mean to you every other day. So no matter what he says, he doesn’t want you to die. Well, that much is obvious with his silly protection situation. Your neck throbs again and you think back to the night he kissed it.

You can barely remember the feeling of his lips ghosting over the skin, before he slid his soft tongue over a vein and then politely sunk his teeth into the flesh. Like a recovering addict tasting a hint of a drug just to get them by.

Your hands have stopped scrubbing your body with your loofa. Now you are hugging yourself and gliding your hands down your sides, imagining Toji’s much bigger ones in their place as he drags that tongue down your whole body, Marking you all over if that’s what he wanted.

You open your eyes and gasp. Snap the fuck out of it.

You hate Toji Fushiguro, remember?

Well, of course you do. You hate the way you don’t hate him, not even a little, not even at all.

Hours pass and you have both successfully showered. Toji emerges from his room, late that night, rubbing his eyes as you sit on the couch and watch an evening show. The lights in the living room are quite dim; plus, it’s dark outside, so the shadows on his face make him more intimidating than usual.

“So, y’smell any better now?” Toji quips, joining you on the far end of the couch, spreading his legs so violently wide that you have to cross your own so as to not touch him.

“I showered hours ago,” you groan. “If you weren’t locked up in your room you’d know that.”

“Well, I am nocturnal,” he says with a yawn. “I was up entirely too early this morning. You know, after saving-”

“My life, I get it.” You roll your eyes. “Are you ever going to let it go?”

“Not ‘till I get some proper gratitude,” he declares, tapping his chin. “Now the price has gone up, I’ll need something better than ‘thank you, big daddy.’”

You feel your eyes widen. “I would never fucking call you that. Ew.”

Toji chuckles. “A shame, really.” He leans back farther into the couch and angles his body to face you. “So, are y’ready to discuss the subject of payment?”

“Yep,” you nod. “How about I doctor your wound and agree to cover the security deposit?”

Toji’s mouth twitches before he slowly lifts up his sweatshirt, revealing that the bullethole in his chiseled ribs is now faded to a slight pink scar.

“Too late, and frankly - they’ll have to catch us first if they want that deposit,” he shrugs. “Keep tryin’, brat.”

You cross your arms. “What d’you want? An expensive dinner?”

“I see, y’tryin to call me broke,” he smiles but it’s laced with venom. “I’m going to give you one more try before I show you what I want. Then it’s fuck all of this useless chitchat.”

You blink, a little afraid. He’s not looking at you any differently than usual but your stomach still turns. Now that you know his secret, things have changed. You already knew you could never take him in a fight but - now you know for sure that he can kill you.

“Um…” you scratch your arm and glance at the floor, “I really don’t know, Toji. What the hell do you want?”

His hand bolts out at the speed of light. He grins at you and his canines have suddenly gotten dangerously sharp; his eyes also glow a bit in the slight warm light.

You gasp as he pulls you closer to him by your shirt collar.

“Always runnin’ that stupid mouth of yours,” he grits. “Unfortunately, it’s gonna be kinda hard to speak with dick in your throat.”

You blink up at him, the awful way he’s degrading you sending heat signals between your legs. You hate that he has this effect on you; God, you hate him so much.

“Ah, you think I can’t still talk shit with my lips wrapped around your little guy?” you tease, gripping his wrist with one of your hands, digging your knees into the couch for stability.

“Don’t know, wanna find out?” Toji questions, meeting his face halfway to yours. “Don’t you wanna show me how grateful you are, little brat?”

You bite your lip and raise your chin defiantly. “I don’t think sucking you off’s gonna be enough,” you purr. “But if that’s all you want…”

Toji’s glowing eyes darken back down to normal, but his teeth remain sharp and his thick arm outstretched in front of you has bulging veins that hadn’t been there before.

“Needy brat,” he cocks his head to the side. “Y’can repay me however you want, right after I get my end of the conditions.”

You nod. “Deal.”

“Now,” he snaps his fingers with his free hand and pulls your shirt until you are forced to be on all fours next to him. “On the floor, brat.”

You gulp suddenly as he lets you go and you slide onto the hardwood, knowing your poor knees are going to be exhausted by the time you are finished.

You sit on your legs and wiggle your way between Toji’s knees.

As you adjust yourself, he pulls his sweatshirt over his head, and you have to swallow the most feral growl that threatens to erupt from within you.

Like always, you gawk at him, but this time you make it as obvious as possible. Your little cunt is pulsing with desire now, as you take in the way he’s looking down at you over his lap.

His lip curls as he notices your stare, “I took that off so you can stare at the reminder of why you’re doing this.” He points to the scar on his ribs. “I don’t save human lives for nothing, brat. You better show me exactly why you’re so special, why you deserved it.”

You blink up at him, mindless. His eyes are mesmerizing you, more than usual. He’s so alluring, his skin glistens under the light. You aren’t sure why you hadn’t given into your desires before now.

You slide your palms over the tops of his thighs. He leans back on the couch and stretches his arms across the back, watching you in silence, the only noise being the tv behind you. Your hands make it slowly to the waistband on his pajama pants, before you tug it down just enough to see his v-line and the little bit of hair that resides on his groin.

“Aht - we don’t have time for all that teasing shit,” Toji grunts, but he must not think you can see the tips of his fingers dug into the couch. He likes it.

You tilt your head to the side and continue to pull the band slowly - while Toji slightly rolls his hips up to help you get it down.

“Not even wearing underwear?” you gape, realizing there is not a second band under his pajamas.

He’s still staring at you but now he’s got an arrogant smirk. “I’m a man who likes to plan ahead.”

You roll your eyes, trying not to let him annoy you when you feel so incredibly good. At last, you yank down the band, and what pops out makes your stomach recoil in fear.

His cock effortlessly jerks up and rests against his stomach, almost halfway up his abdomen, barely able to hold itself up due to it’s obvious heft. The tip is already wet, dribbling clear precum, like icing on a cinnamon roll. The length is so perfectly peach with a beautiful pink-brown head. It seems to call to you like a high class delicacy.

Toji’s laugh cracks you out of your trance.

“Y’look so cockdrunk, babygirl,” he coos, taking his hand and grabbing himself at the base and holding it up for you.

You adjust yourself, as you now cannot sit on your legs because of how long his cock is. You have to get all the way up on your knees, where you plant your hands back on his thighs and lean forward.

“It’s so…” Big. Pretty. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

Toji shakes his cock in his hand, “I believe in you. Just take it slow.”

Is he being… patient? Gentle even? You don’t like this, not one bit. You want him to tell you to shut up and put it in your throat.

“Okay, put it in,” you say, parting your lips wide with the tip of your tongue sticking out - ready to slide it underneath his cock.

Toji obeys instantly, taking his free hand and pushing your head down to meet his the crown of his dick. When your mouth makes contact, it doesn’t take more than a third of his cock before your mouth feels full.

You furrow your eyebrows and look up at Toji, who’s took his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Slow,” he reminds, entangling his fingers in your hair but not applying any more pressure to your head, allowing you to take the length at your own pace.

You close your eyes and dig your nails into his thighs before forcing as much of the cock down your throat as you can, pushing saliva out onto the skin and closing your lips on it.

Your tongue has extended and is now flicking dangerously on the underside of his dick, as you now feel you’re in a position to start bobbing your head.

You do so, slowly, slurping noises blocking out your tv show, spit dripping all around the veins on his cock before pooling on his groin. Toji’s head has fallen back into the couch, he’s let go of his cock now and keeps the other hand in your hair.

“Don’t fucking stop, baby,” he says.

Your pussy practically purrs upon hearing a name as soft as ‘baby.’ Sure, he had called you babygirl but it was sarcasm. As much as you enjoy being called a brat, you know you’ll need to hear that baby name more often.

You continue to slide your head up and down, jaw parted, tongue gliding under. You bring your mouth back to his tip and swirl with your tongue, lathering more saliva, watching as it foams and drips down his cock. You take your hand and, using your spit as lube, stroke the bottom half that you just can’t fit in your mouth.

“Fuck, who taught you this, ma?” Toji groans from above, thighs squeezing your sides. You swear you can even feel them shaking a bit.

“Mmh-” is all you’re able to respond, putting your poor wrist to work to make up for your tired jaw. You don’t care, you like the pain.

You bring your mouth back to the top and release him with a pop, a glittery string of saliva connecting your lips to his cock, the entire lower half of your chin coated in drool.

Toji lifts his head up to look down at you. “Knew you were special, little freak. It’s not everyday I get brain like this.” He grunts and shifts under you, as your hand is still slowly stroking his veiny length.

You giggle before you reply, “It’s kinda funny to see you squirming like this. Toji, who always says he’s not anyone’s bitch.”

“Mm, and I’m not yours, either,” he hums softly, before sitting up quickly and yanking your head back with the grip he still holds on you, forcing you to look up at him.

His eyes search your red, wet face for a moment before he leans down and opens his mouth, spitting out a fat glop of saliva onto his own cock. Before it can even start to slide down, he’s shoving your face down onto the length nearly three-thirds of the way.

You make a noise of surprise and your hands shoot out to balance yourself. You shut your eyes tight as you try to keep your teeth bared back so as to not graze him as he uses the roots in your hair to fuck your face at his own rough pace.

“Damn, who’s who’s bitch now?” he cracks, jerking his hips up to meet your throat halfway, and now the tip is hitting the back of your mouth with a painful force. “Oh wait, I guess you can’t respond, huh? What did I tell you?” He laughs above you, voice deep, “Can’t talk shit with a mouth full of cock, lil’ brat.”

You groan around him and smack his bare thigh before you dig your nails into the skin. He hisses and lets out a deep, groveling moan that sounds animalistic.

You look up through your lashes and see his form shifting; his face is literally twisting in pleasure but also, his hair seems to be growing and shrinking, his teeth go from fitting in his mouth to his canines growing long and poking out from his upper lip, his ears go from human and round, to an awful, sharp point.

You realize he’s fighting back the urge to change, you’re doing him that good. Your eyes roll back in pleasure and you keep your nails in his thigh, leaving harsh red curves all over the hairy skin.

“Just like that, baby,” he says, nearly tumbling over his words, “‘M gonna fill your pretty throat, yeah? Want you to drink me up, then I’ll be satisfied. F-fuck.”

You furrow your eyebrows and try to lock in your focus so that your body or jaw doesn’t decide to give out right as he’s going to cum. You let him continue to use your throat for the pace he thinks feels best, humming around him to amplify his pleasure.

You aren’t sure how much time passes, but you open your eyes again to see that he has dropped one of his hands on the couch. You stare in horror as his nails shoot out: sharp and pointy and black, nearly ripping the fabric on the seat. He claws at the material right as you feel his cock twitching, veins pulsing harder.

His load comes quick, and harsh. He pulls himself out of your mouth just enough that you can feel the hot, salty spurts crash against your throat, filling your mouth to the point you have to yank his cock out in order to breathe.

You gasp and swallow on instinct, and Toji watches with glistening eyes.

His teeth, hands and ears have returned to normal. You start to feel your head throb with lightheadedness and wonder if you’d been imagining all of it.

“My, my, what a fantastic throat you have, my dear,” he coos, chest rising and falling as he, too, tries to regain his breath.

“All the better to suck you with, sir.” You grin and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand before rising to stand, stretching your legs and relieving your poor knees.

Toji stares up at you now, face angled down, eyes watching you through his lashes. “So, brat, do you feel satisfied with your payment?” he questions, tone a little lilted.

You tap your chin, pretending you don’t notice him sitting up and putting his hands on your waist, before parting your legs with his knee and sliding you over his thigh. You pretend you don’t feel your cunt throb whorishly in response to his touch.

“No,” you say curtly. “I mean, a man saves my life and all he gets is some head?”

“Y’read my mind, puss,” he grovels, hand coming down in a harsh crack on your hip. “I think, just for extra credit, you can slide me a lil’ something extra.”

You gasp in surprise when you feel his heavy palm hit your skin, then bite your lip as the sensation overcomes your entire lower half.

“What’s that?” you question.

He answers by snapping his fingers. You feel cold air hit your bottom and, looking down in horror you realize, oh no! your shorts and panties are missing.

“I-I thought you said you didn’t have magical techniques,” you shriek, shyly moving your hand to cover your bare cunt, as it begins to immediately drip down your legs without a protective barrier.

“Well, there could be two explanations,” he says apathetically, ripping your hand away from your groin and staring at you with an expression that dares you to put it back. “Either my technique only applies to you, because I Marked you. Or, I was lying about the number of explanations.”

He grins devilishly, and you realize you deeply miss the way his sharp teeth look poking out of his mouth. You try to shake the thought, but each time you look at him, you expect to see them.

You swallow thickly, “So what? You can control me, too?”

Toji’s mouth twitches but he does not deny it. “Why? Do you not want to do this?”

You realize, you kind of implied that Toji might have coerced you into doing this - but that isn’t what you meant.

“No, I do, I do,” you answer, a little too eagerly, and Toji’s face curls.

“Sooo neeeeedy,” he drags out, before plopping your bare cunt down on his thigh, making you shriek. “Well, I think what I want now is your pretty cream all over my thigh, ma, then after that, your pretty cream on my cock.” He digs his fingers into your hips as you have been rendered speechless, and drags you forward on his thigh, soft skin rubbing your aching little clit.

A small, ‘oh’ escapes your lips and your hands fly up to his hefty shoulders, gripping onto them.

“Yeah, just hold onto me, baby,” he grunts, sliding you back towards his knee and then up again.

“N-No,” you say, lip quivering.

Toji cocks his head to the side, nearly perking his ears.

“C-Call me those m-mean things,” you stutter, feeling the blood rush to your face as each word comes out.

“Oh, you don’t like when I call you baby?” Toji taunts. “You like being called a needy bitch, hm?”

You whine in response to him, instead of saying it out loud, but that’s not enough for him.

“What did I say?” he grits, smacking your thigh harshly after he stops grinding your hips onto his own.

“Y-Yes,” you yelp, “yes, I like it, Toji.” There’s something else you like, too. “H-Hit me, again.”

“Oh?” he hums tentatively, rubbing your poor cunt to shreds on his thigh again, all the while smacking one of yours - a red welp forming slowly. “Little slut of mine likes being bullied.”

He cracks a laugh, “Bet you were drippin’ in y’panties every time I yelled at you. Sick, y’know that?”

“Shut up,” you growl, yanking on his hair.

His eyelids flutter in pleasure, “Make me, brat.”

You know that you can’t, you absolutely have no power over this man who is double your size. Besides, you need him to keep talking, running that big fucking mouth, so you can cum all over him.

“That’s what I thought,” he purrs, smiling at you, before cracking a hard smack across your thigh again. Then, he shoves his fingers around your throat, gripping mercilessly as he pulls your breath from you. “Gonna cum already?”

You amateurly nod your head against his grip, which comes to be a mistake, as Toji uses the force of his other hand to keep your hips from moving any longer on his thigh.

You try to gasp but he grips your windpipe harder and drags you towards his face, torso pressed delicately against his larger one.

“Mm, nah, not on my watch,” he grits, pressing his thick lips against yours.

You’re so easily, pathetically distracted yet still, you whine as your orgasm is being denied, and Toji makes it even harder to ignore as his lips and tongue slide over yours.

You can feel the sharp points of his teeth growing, then he uses them to bite down on your bottom lip, forcing you to keep your face on his as he drops his hand from your throat.

Now, with both hands back on your hips, he starts pushing them over his leg once more.

You groan a thank you into his mouth as your throbbing clit gets fucked, leaving a slimey trail all over Toji. You use your feet planted on the ground to swirl your hips in a way that feels good, and now your stomach is tightening.

You huff and whimper into Toji’s mouth and at the very moment you think you’re about to reach your peak, Toji lifts your hips off of him and releases his teeth from your mouth.

“T-Toji!” you groan in frustration. “Why?”

“Y’didn’t think I’d give it to you that easily, huh, puss?” He flashes his teeth at you and you notice his hair has grown long again, eyes ablaze. He’s doing the shit where he only partially shifts again, but you are quite frankly more into it than you will ever say aloud.

“Yes, I did,” you say. “After my spectacular performance on my knees.”

“Yeah? Well, that was just to repay me for your life,” Toji says, examining his nails. “Now, I’m punishing you. If not for that temper of yours, she never would’ve shot at you, y’know. So I have to teach you a lil’ lesson, about runnin’ your fuckin’ mouth.”

You grunt at him and bang your fists on his chest, though he is not moved.

“Please, please, I’m sorry,” you whine. “Just let me cum.”

Toji pretends to think about it, “No.”

Then, he’s shoving your hips again, and again when you get just a little too loud - he stops. Then, you try not to make noise at all, but he can feel your needy cunt twitching on him, and he stops again. This repeats about three more times before he finally, finally keeps going as you get louder.

“If I’m gonna let you cum y’better give me a big one, lil’ brat.” His voice is deeper, as he stares at you with those animalistic eyes. “Y’gonna do that for me, needy bitch?”

Your head falls hopelessly against his shoulder as you wail into his ear, and before long your entirely body is convulsing on top of his. Your twitching pussy pushes out an orgasm so violent that you leave a sticky stream all over Toji’s thigh, heart threatening to erupt out of your chest, and the only thing left to do is hang on for dear life as Toji continues forcing your hips over his leg through your high.

You think he’s just helping you ride it out, ‘till you realize he isn’t stopping, but your poor cunt is already running sore.

“N-No,” you whine, tilting your head and digging your teeth into the side of his neck.

“Nah, y’wanted to cum soooo bad,” Toji shakes his head but you don’t notice his eyebrows knitting together, or his cock perking back up at the feeling of your teeth on him.

You huff and smack him plain across his face. An action you had not expected to do, one that almost felt invol-

“Toji,” you gasp. “Did you make me do that?”

Toji doesn’t respond. Instead, your arm involuntarily comes up and hits him again, and his cock jerks against your leg.

“Heh - and you called me a sick fuck,” you grit, sitting up, as Toji has finally slowed his movements of fucking your cunt on his leg.

“Takes one to know one,” Toji chuckles, dropping his hands from your hips.

Your next action is very, overwhelmingly voluntary. You pick your feet off of the floor and slide them down on either side of Toji’s. His legs are simply so big, that your ass and thighs are forced to sit on top of them. You’ll have to use your feet for balance instead of your knees.

Toji watches you in silence and you grip his cock at the base.

“You know I hate you, right?” you say suddenly, lifting your hips so that your cunt hovers over his tip.

“Show me just how much,” he hisses, arms moving behind his head.

“Hmph,” you mutter, before pushing his wet cock tip through your quenching hole.

Toji spasms, his entire torso nearly breaking away from the couch as his lips part in desperation.

It hurts so good, but you can take it. You slowly bend your legs to lower yourself on him, now your knees are angled in the air due to your awkward difference in size.

“Yeah, I hate you so fucking much,” he murmurs, and there’s no mistaking the feral, intimidating level of depth his voice has dropped to. “You don’t deserve to have such good pussy, brat.”

You roll your hips a bit forward, knowing you’ve managed to pull ahold of the control as your cushy walls engulf Toji’s throbbing dick.

“Don’t get attached, Toji,” you rile, lifting your palm before cracking it across his face.

He makes out a noise that is not quite a moan, but not quite a full on howl. “As if,” he mouths sassily, shaking his hips underneath you so that you slide the rest of the way down.

Now that you’ve gotten him all the way in, Toji’s prepared to take back control of your little hole.

“Took me so good,” he growls. “That was the easy part, let’s see if you can handle the rest.”

Your eyes barely have a chance to widen before Toji is driving you up and down, slowly but steadily, with his monstrous hands. You quench around him like an iron fist, and it shows in the way his stomach sucks in and writhes with pleasure. You use your knees to swirl, gushing more of your cunt’s lubrication all over his length.

He fills you up so nicely, and you wonder if his size is related to his… condition. You don’t really want to think about his wolf form, but you still feel yourself drooling at the thought of his claws popping out when he came in your mouth.

Sweat glistens on his chest, rolling down between his nipples. On his groin, there is a combined pool of cream and precum at the base of his cock, which sticks to your ass and splurges out a delicious sticky noise each time your cheeks clap against his heavy balls.

“Hit me again, Toji,” you mutter, and where his eyes had slowly been falling closed, they are wide again - glossed over in lust.

His hand whips up your shirt this time, and instead of hitting your hips or your ass, a fat palm cracks your breast and nipple in one blow. Then he cracks one on the top of your thigh.

Then, he lifts his hand towards your face with a pause, and you nod your permission.

Instead of smacking your cheek, though, he shoves his palm against your jaw and harshly presses his thumb to your lips. Cockdrunkenly, you part them and his thumb slides inside, immediately becoming encased by your needy tongue.

You swirl the finger and lather it in your spit, eyebrows furrowing at how good it feels to release your oral fixation on his hand.

All the while you still clap on him, knees growing weaker as they have slid down to the side. Toji watches you intensely, waiting for the buildup of his orgasm, ready to fill your cervix with his semen.

Your breasts, now free and exposed bounce in his face, cold air erecting your nipples combined with the stinging memory of his smack. It’s all too much for you to bear.

“K-Keep going, baby,” Toji requests softly, his mean side disappearing again. You don’t care, this may be the last time he’s ever nice to you. “Drag my cum out like a good lil’ slut.”

Your eyes are closed, your ears ringing. You hardly hear his request but you don’t stop what you’re doing.

Something sharp jabs your tongue. Your eyes pop open and, you see Toji, growling, ears sharp, hair overgrown nearly to his shoulders. You glance at his other hand and realize his claws are coming out again.

You pull his thumb out of your mouth and hasten your pace, quenching your muscles around him purposefully. He lets out a guttural howl and then, it isn’t long till heat pumps into your gummy tunnel.

You shake as your own second orgasm slips through your fingers, and a combination of your juices poor out of your stretched hole and right down onto Toji’s balls.

His teeth grow a little longer than they have the whole time, hair is strarting to replace the skin on his face. You shudder in fear and rip yourself off of his cock, where it falls limp on his sticky lap.

“Don’t worry,” Toji says through his quivers, “I-I can stop the change, jus’…” He lets out a painful grunt and then all of his skin returns to its normal hue, and his body retracts down to strictly human features.

You take a deep breath, and plop back down on top of him, this time resting your head on his shoulder as his cum drips out of you and onto your thighs and the couch.

The two of you breathe in silence for a moment, before Toji’s big arm wraps around you and he slides the two of you down on the couch - so that you are laying side by side, bare tummies and legs touching, every spot where the skin connects setting you on fire.

“I don’t really practice religion, but if I must say so myself, your pussy is a gift from God.” Toji’s words come out playfully and you find yourself laughing uncontrollably.

“Please shut the actual fuck up,” you say.

“Not kidding, brat,” Toji’s finger slides down your arm featherlight, an action so tender you find yourself trying not to think too much of it. “Seeing as I always know where you are, I may have to actually follow you around now. Make sure you’re not givin’ that shit to anyone else.”

You huff, “So what if I do? You hate me.”

“Yeah, alright,” Toji nods. “Neither of us believe that bullshit, puss. I Marked you because I want you to be mine. And you are, so don’t try no shit.”

You roll your eyes at him, intertwining your legs together. “You’re the dog, so technically, aren’t I the one who owns you?”

Toji growls and grabs your throat, “Don’t ever call me that shit again, brat. Maybe you need another round to get it through your annoying little skull.”

“My, my, what a big fucking mouth you have,” you taunt, tugging on his hair.

“All the better to eat you with, my dear,” he murmurs, and pulls your face towards his.

A/N:

I SAY AWOOOOOOOO BABYYYY 🐺 (toji ily u my everything)

this was intense mama i gotta go take a cold shower now ^.^

~pennjammin

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk fanfic #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #jjk toji #toji smut #jjk men #jjk fluff

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