#jujutsu kaisen fanficiton

[leakyweep]

Professor! Nanami Kento x fem!reader: Whatever You Want

A/N: I’m a sucker for professor x student fics and I’m so mentally deranged for this man so this is the product of both of those things. Enjoy ^^ Requests are open, and appreciated!

Word count: 0.9k

Warnings: Professor/Student relationship, afab reader, thigh riding, hickies, cunnilingus, fingering, not proofread, MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI 18+

Nanami was always the stoic type, never one to break the rules and always made sure of one thing; never bringing home a student. However, this one time...

He couldn’t believe his total lack of professionalism when he was around you. Drugs is what he’s compare you to; dangerous, addicting. The way your hips swayed, teasing him with every step you took where your ass was sashaying right there in his face. He didn’t miss the way your teeth would drag across your bottom lip as you listened to him teach, your gaze piercing his. You were one of the top in your graduating class and very well behaved to boot. 

Nanami couldn’t understand how the latter statement was true in this moment as he watched as you ground your wet cunt against his muscular thigh, soft moans of his name being sung like hymns from your lips. He reached to cover your mouth gently, making sure you could still breath through your nose.

“Shhh... you wouldn’t want Professor Gojo to hear how I make you feel, would you? Now, be a good girl and grind on my thigh. I wanna see how desperate you are for me.” His voice was a growl, his free hand gripping your hip to keep you upright as you swayed your hips back and forth on his bare thigh.

Your cunt was throbbing, begging for more stimulation. You bit your lip to beg Nanami to do something, anything for your desperate pussy. “Sir... Sir I need-” You were cut off by a moan as his fingers pinched your sensitive nipple, making a shock ring through your body. “Fuck!” 

Nanami smiled devilishly, committing to memory just how desperate your hips dragged against him and the sounds of your moans as his digits twisted and pinched at your perked nipples. His mouth attached to your collarbone, traveling slowly to replace his fingers at your chest. 

“You’ve gotta be a good girl for me, ‘kay? I’m gonna show you just how bad I’ve wanted you these past few weeks. I know a good girl like you can take it. Right?” His gaze was fiery hot, challenging you to stare back. 

You did, your eyebrows knitting together in pleasure as your professor continued ravishing your nipples. Your eyes were clouded with lust as you said, “Yes..! Yes sir, I promise to be good...” 

He chuckled darkly, his strong hands flipping you onto your back on the plush bed. His lips kissed softly down to the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, leaving love bites and dark purple marks there. His lips felt like heaven this close to your aching core, and you reached down to pull at his blonde locks. Your moans of encouragement filled his mind, letting his desires overtake him. he had wanted to taste you for so long, contemplating what you tasted like. 

It was almost perverted how quickly his lips attached to your clit, making you squirm and let out a groan. The stark shadows from the lamp on the other side of the room made it impossible to see Nanami’s face, but through the dark of his eyes you swore you could see a fire in his hazel eyes. 

“You’re heavenly,” he praised, his hands squeezing at the plushness of your hips. His velvety muscle dragged circles around your clit, making it impossible to form a coherent sentence. 

“F-Fuck~” You whined, pulling at the fistfuls of his hair in your hands. This only made him speed up, the way his fingers prodded at your entrance made you shiver. You needed something inside, and you wouldn’t complain about it being his fingers. 

Nanami placed a hand on your abdomen to still you, and you couldn’t help the whine that escaped the back of your throat when you felt his middle and ring fingers invade your entrance, pushing against your pulsing walls. He pulled them out with a guttural moan, sticking his slick-covered digits in his mouth. His tongue savored the taste.

“You taste amazing,” He whispered, looking up into your lust-blown pupils as he inserted those same fingers again, dragging up the top of your core all the way to his knuckles. His fingertips prodded at your sweet spot, and the sweet nothings he was praising you with only coaxing you closer to your impending release. 

His hot breath was warming your thigh as his fingers pumped in and out of you, the way soft moans of his name left your mouth making precum bead at his swollen head. He couldn’t wait to feel your warmth. The way your walls were fluttering around his digits and your hips were grinding into his hand desperately told him it wouldn’t be long. 

“Kento~!” You cried out, biting your lip to keep from screaming and alerting the Professor just next door in his own dorm. Nanami nodded slowly, pumping his fingers at just the right pace through your orgasm, waiting for the last few waves of shakes go through your legs until he pulled his wet fingers out of your squelching pussy. 

Soft kisses trailed up your sweat-covered tummy and to your lips as Nanami gave you a moment to catch your breath. His eyes half-lidded, his cheeks pink, he grabbed your chin, staring into your pleasured gaze. 

With a soft whisper of your name, he flipped you so you were straddling his lean waist. “I want your warmth... Need it.” His voice was in a tone you had never heard from the man before, almost pleading to bury his cock deep into your wet core.

Your eyes dragged from his lips, down to his collarbones, to his chest, then back up to his eyes. Your eyes were filled with desire, your teeth dragging across your bottom lip. 

“Then, have it. Whatever you want, Professor Nanami.”

[manias-wordcount]

View of Paradise (Satoru Gojo x Reader) PART THREE

[𝘾𝙃𝘼𝙍𝙇𝙄𝙀 𝘼𝙉𝘿 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝘾𝙃𝙊𝘾𝙊𝙇𝘼𝙏𝙀 𝙁𝘼𝘾𝙏𝙊𝙍𝙔 𝘼𝙐]

𝗔/𝗡: 𝗱𝗼 𝗶 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗰𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘀𝗹𝗼𝘄 𝗯𝘂𝗿𝗻 𝗶𝗳 𝗶𝘁 𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗲𝘀 𝗺𝗲 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗼 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗿𝗼𝗱𝘂𝗰𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘁? 𝗯𝗰 𝗶 𝗱𝗶𝗱𝗻'𝘁 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗹𝗶𝘇𝗲 𝗵𝗼𝘄 𝘀𝗹𝗼𝘄 𝗼𝗳 𝗮 𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗿𝘆 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗴𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗲𝗿 𝗶 𝗮𝗺 𝗪𝗛𝗔𝗛𝗔𝗛𝗔 𝗼𝗼𝗽𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗶𝘀 𝗴𝗼𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝗮 𝗹𝗶𝗹 𝗯𝗶𝘁

𝗣𝗮𝗿𝘁: 𝗼𝗻𝗲 || 𝘁𝘄𝗼 || 𝘁𝗵𝗿𝗲𝗲 || 𝗳𝗼𝘂𝗿 || 𝗳𝗶𝘃𝗲 || 𝘀𝗶𝘅 || 𝘀𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗻 || 𝗲𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 || 𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗲 || 𝘁𝗲𝗻 || 𝗲𝗹𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗻 || ���𝘄𝗲𝗹𝘃𝗲 || 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗿𝘁𝗲𝗲𝗻 || 𝗳𝗼𝘂𝗿𝘁𝗲𝗲𝗻 || 𝗳𝗶𝗳𝘁𝗲𝗲𝗻 || 𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗲…

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?

The first thing you notice when you slip into the kitchen is just how much bigger it feels now that there are only about four chefs left inside. It’s the same sight and the same feeling you get every time you’re closing, but it’s still a little jarring. As you empty your tray in one of the kitchen trash cans, you count four people in the room instead of the usual ten or however many people are actually here during a given shift. Either way, it’s always weird seeing the back of house so empty. Always.

  Right now, there’s a guy with Toge, helping him clean up a couple of the stations together. The guy is big and loud and a bit eccentric. But Toge seems fine with having the other guy speak enough for the both of them so you don’t put up a fuss. Another chef, one you’re having trouble remembering the name of, seems to be towards the back of the kitchen by the freezers- taking inventory and writing stuff up on her notepad. You take a second to tell yourself that while it sucked being locked outside today in the cold, you’re just happy nobody hated you enough to lock you in the freezer overnight. A shiver runs down your spine at the thought. Out of fear or memory of just how cold that freezer can get from the one time you peaked your head back there for head chef Nanami, you’re not sure.

  And speaking of Nanami…

  “Mr. Nanami…?” You softly call the older man’s name from behind him. He’s standing over his station, with his back towards you. But at the sound of your voice, he’s turning his head with a passive expression on his tired face. You feel bad for the guy. You really do. Unlike you with your two days a week of twelve-hour shifts, Nanami does the full fifteen hours for all seven days. He told you it was by choice. Same way his leaving the diner right at eight-thirty at night, every night (even when the kitchen is still sending out orders to stragglers) is a choice. But you’ve seen how the kitchen falls apart on those rare days he takes off from work. It was a nightmare you remember very vividly. But you wonder if the way he works himself now is even a better alternative in the end. “My brother is here now. We’ll be heading out shortly if you want to say hello.”

  When you mention your younger brother, Nanami’s eyes soften. Just a little bit. But behind his glasses, the man still looks as cold and as intimidating as ever. Still, it seems like not even a guy as jaded as him can go without appreciating your little brother. And you can’t blame the guy either. Yuuta’s a great kid. Great younger brother too.

  Though with all the stuff you have to do for your family, you’re willing to bet that you’re an even greater sister. Just saying.

  “Good kid,” Nanami finally murmurs after a while, before turning around and facing his station once more. He gets back to whatever task he was doing easily, and you’re stuck twiddling your thumb for a couple of seconds and debating whether or not that’s your cue to go. That was until he spoke up again about a half-minute later. “What’s he doing out here so late?”

  You shrug your shoulders a second before you remember the guy doesn’t have eyes in the back of his head. Despite all the kitchen staff swearing up and down that he does...

  “Work, I think. He’s been running newspapers and shining shoes before and after school. He had to ask for more hours…” You trail off at that, as memories of your exact circumstance start to rise. Your mood starts to sour a little at the thought. Your mother’s pay was cut back not too long ago. And it looks like there are talks of layoffs in your father’s factory very soon. All that with the price of medication for all your bed-ridden grandparents starting to climb is adding up to a whole laundry list of problems. You had hopes that Yuuta would be able to remain a kid for a little while longer. But with the way things are going right now, you’re not completely positive Yuuta will be able to stay in school for as long as you managed to in the end…. “...so that's probably why he’s not home yet.”

  As the words leave your lips, you look at the door to the kitchen. You can’t see your brother through it. But you can imagine him very clearly right now. Working through the rest of his homework while he waits for you because there’s never a guarantee that the lights at home will work for him. He spends his mornings up at the crack of dawn delivering papers to the neighborhood instead of in bed or eating Gojo-O’s in front of a TV. He spends his afternoons cleaning shoes and helping out where he can for some meager pocket change instead of hanging out with his friends. Does he even have friends still? When was the last time he was invited anywhere? You remember losing many of your around his age as your family fell further below the poverty line and you started missing school for your part-time jobs.

  It makes you sigh quietly as you think about it more. You know exactly what he’s going through. Because you remember very well starting to have to pull back from being a kid around this age too. It’s been over ten years for you, but still, you can recall just how much it hurt to lose your childhood, and you never wanted that for Yuuta. But between an empty stomach and time away from friends, you knew there was a correct answer to choose. But in your opinion, it would never not be a painful one. Especially for an eleven-year-old boy like him. 

  You let out another sigh, but quickly perk up a second later. 

   “...Or maybe he’s waiting for your cooking!” You pipe in the last second when you realize that the silence between you and Nanami is starting to become a little deafening. You let out a tense little laugh as your eyes shift around at the other people in the room. Luckily, nobody is watching or seems to be listening to you. You’re thankful, as your cheeks start to warm up with embarrassment at the thought of almost venting to your co-worker right before closing time. “Ah, haha…”

  However, by the time your nervous laughter dies down and you face ahead to look at Nanami again, you find that the man is already looking at you. Although the intensity of his gaze has you swallowing a little nervously, you can tell that the glint in his eyes wasn't showing you pity or deep and the utter sadness you used to get from all kinds of grandmas and grandpas in the street. 

  It’s respect.

  That’s why you find yourself whispering a quiet “thank you, Mr. Nanami” as he steps aside and shows you three to-go boxes full of food. One container is a full thing of chicken tenders and french fries. Edges burnt and blackened, but you know you and Yuuta would be happy to share. The second container holds a couple of slabs of meatloaf that just seem to be a second away from falling apart. But there’s enough for your mom and your dad if they had a side of cabbage with it all, you’re sure of it.

   And container three has somehow managed to fit two full hoagies shoved in there. They’re squished and squeezed as much as they can be, but they’re in there alright. You have a feeling that they were made with the lunch meat that was about the go bad and the saddest, ugliest slices of tomatoes and onions and lettuce that this kitchen has to offer. But you know once you cut these sandwiches in half and present them to your grandparents, they’ll be willing to worship it like it’s pure gold.

  They must be the worst items that came out of the kitchen today. The ones that almost got past Mr. Nanami’s watchful eye during quality control but ultimately didn’t. And it’s a lot more than he usually is able to slip for you and your brother. A lot more than what’s usually allowed by your boss anyway. But there are plenty of good people at Zenin Diner to balance out the bad, like the closers that are here with you tonight. That means there are plenty of good people looking out for you and your brother when they can too.

  You gather up the boxes quickly and go to fetch your cardigan. Now that your younger brother is here and it’s pitch dark outside, people are a little more okay with you ducking out before the rest of the cleaning is done. You bundle yourself up tightly and stack boxes full of food on top of each other, careful not to spill anything on the freshly swept and mopped floors. And careful not to get caught sneaking too much food from the kitchen tonight by Mr. Zenin either.

  By the time you’re ready to go, Nanami is following you out of the kitchen. You wave bye to Toge, and for some reason, Toge and the eccentric man wave back at you two. However, you don’t dwell on it too long as Nanami holds open the door for you to step through. Just like you don’t dwell on it too long when Nanami just shakes his head at you for asking about whatever is in that small little paper bag he’s got stuffed in his hand that he keeps conveniently moving out of your view.

  When you step back into the front of the house, Nobara and Maki are still bickering just a tad at each other. But the conversation about math has seemed to disappear alongside the empty spots for answers on your brother’s math worksheet. But he still looks conflicted as he holds open a book and has his gaze wandering back and forth between the two women. Though as he hears the door open, Yuuta’s gaze is quick to fall onto you. And his mood is even quicker to light up like the sun as he spots the containers of food in your hands.

  You mouth the words “pack up your stuff” to him and set the food down to quickly take care of his empty cup of water. Yuuta nods at you before setting down his book and lifting his backpack onto a nearby stool as he starts putting away his things. Nanami lingers just behind the counter with you for a little bit longer than you would have expected, but he’s quickly roped in the conversation between Nobrara and Maki as they both turn on him and ask if he’s ever read “The Call of the Wild” before. Expectedly, both Yuuta and Nanami let out their own little sounds of exasperation, and you can’t help but laugh as the two of them try to hurry along and get out of there.

  Still, not wanting to be on your feet for any longer than you really have to, you’re speedy about washing out Yuuta’s cup, drying it off, and placing it in the correct spot for tomorrow’s openers. Besides you, Nobara and Maki’s conversation has died down to a pair of grumbles as they turn back to get some more cleaning down. And in front of you, Nanami is making his way from behind the counter and heading towards the front door of the diner. 

  But as you’re doing a quick wipe of the counter where Yuuta was sitting, you notice Nanami looking at you from the corner of your eye before stopping in front of Yuuta. No words are exchanged between the two of them. But you do see Nanami reach into his pocket and press the little paper bag he was hiding from you earlier into your brother’s hands once he finally finished putting his backpack on. But before you can even call out to Nanami- whether it was to thank him or scold him for sneaking another thing out to your family, you’re not quite sure yourself- the older man was already out the door and down the stairs of the diner. Never once looking back.

  At that, you let out the umpteenth sigh of the day, but you don’t go chasing or shouting after him. Especially now that you’ve spotted just how big the smile on your brother’s face has gotten once he opened up the paper bag and took a peak inside. 

  Of course, Yuuta tried to hide it from you- having understood exactly why Nanami must have slipped it to him in secret. But you’ve been his older sister for far too long to have a secret kept so easily from you. And by the time you’re picking up the food again and heading out the door after saying your goodbyes to the rest of the staff with your brother in tow, you already managed to sneak your own quick peek of the surprise gift your brother got from Nanami. And although Yuuta puts up a valiant effort to keep it from you, you’re an experienced older sister. And your brother is no criminal mastermind either. But most importantly? You’d be a fool not to know a full-size Gojo Bar just from the shape alone. 

  Letting out one more sigh, you pushed open the front door to the diner and took a step outside. Your breath comes out in little white puffs of air. It’s getting colder. Colder than it was earlier today. You hum thoughtfully.

  You’ll have to thank Nanami tomorrow. 

[ynverse]

dating inumaki toge

INUMAKI x gn! reader | smau + headcanons

a/n: sobbing head in hands… toge ilysm!! he’s just a insane silly sorcerer <3 i also was gonna gatekeep this for an extra day but i miss toge too much

dating him is so chaotic but so much fun

he’s so annoying when it comes to you. his curse speech is powerful and he will make sure you know that

“kiss me” “hold my hand” “confess your feelings for me” he’s so smug about it too despite the blood that will trickle down the side of his lips (please carry cough drops for him because he will never stop)

always says you’re so needy for him after he uses his cursed speech to make you hold his hands !! you try to act annoyed but you both know you think it’s cute

he loves having you close to him when he’s gaming !! you sitting on his lap with his arms wrapped around you >>

yuuji always asks you to keep him company when gaming because toge will just sigh and kiss you instead of accidentally saying “shit” (yuuji learned it the hard way)

dates with him are either so romantic or joke dates !!! he’s either going to take you to the best underground locations (esp if they have street food) or you’ll be hanging out in one of your dorms, begging him to stop saying “kiss me” so you can go to shoko and get him help

face masks & painting each others nails IS A MUST !!! he loves the domestic aspect esp because of how uncertain the future is for sorcerers

speaking of his face ! he will melt if you place a kiss on his marks. he tends to dislike showing them but he never hides them from you. sometimes he overuses his speech (not enough for long term damage but just to where he can’t talk) so you place kisses on them

always says i love you verbally ! he feels bad he can’t offer words of affirmation directly to you so he spent a lot of time finding safe words he can say. you do have to gamble whenever he sends a voice message though… will it be a cute i love you or will it be him trying to get you to come back to him ? either way it’s <3

literally no one knew you guys were together for a while because you both were naturally close (and he’s really good at hiding it if he wants to) but after you told everyone? prepare to be sick of him

clingy in a cute way so you guys spend almost all your free time together (even if it’s just sitting in the same room)

if you ever fight, he will apologize until his throat bleeds. he won’t use any commands unless you try to dismiss your feelings and he’ll go “please tell me how you really feel” because he wants you to be genuinely okay

he’s also so attentive to you !! he knows if anything is wrong and he will make you feel better

has told you to “run away” during a battle with curses and has never done so again because you wore headphones around him and would not speak to him unless it was text (he wanted to protect you but he knows you want to protect him as well)

gets kinda jealous but will have no shame and be affectionate in front of that person while looking at them directly in the eyes. 100% denies being jealous though

overall he is the love of your life your honor !

[lostfracturess]

can i be real for a second? i think i'm burned out on writing smut. i have this chapter that i planned to include smut in, but i just got to that scene and can't come up with anything. i feel like i'm always writing the same thing and it's repetitive and idk i'm just so fed up with it.

lately i don't even read anything smut related. and please jjk fandom is 99% smut (which is okay!) but i really want to read some other things too but they don't seem to get any attention. and please i always cringe with those porn header pictures help.

[back2thebasics]

SATORU GOJO

- GOJO X READER - FIRST POST

https://www.tumblr.com/back2thebasics/749116062201774080/gojo-x-reader-first-post?source=share

SUGURU GETO

- GETO X READER - Bodyguard Suguru Geto X Fem Reader

https://www.tumblr.com/back2thebasics/760119003471609856/bodyguard-suguru-geto-x-fem-reader?source=share

CARLISLE CULLEN

- CARLISLE X READER - Night Shift

https://www.tumblr.com/back2thebasics/761362613404827648/carlisle-cullen-x-fem-reader-night-shift?source=share

CHARLIE SWAN

Charlie Swan x Fem Reader - Target Practice

https://www.tumblr.com/back2thebasics/761049785160679424/charlie-swan-x-fem-reader-target-practice?source=share

[nanamin-nah-nanamine]

Currently cooking up a full length satosugu based off that little one shot.

If you love fix it fics, canon divergence,au’s, angst, a bit of ooc and a whole lot of love for shoko stay tuned!

[corujalesbica]

Writing this volleyball! Nobamaki au, academic rivals, enemies to lovers, gay shaninagans etc etc

I saw that that was a lack of more nobamaki multichapters and decided to take it into my own hands. Will probably update once a week. Give it a try if you like nobamaki!

[cumtastiics]

[zombiiegrr]

HEHEHEHE fic coming soon!!!

[damn-stark]

THIS CHAPTER IS NOW CHANGED TOO!!! I hope you guys like it! And remember you can be tagged!

I LOVE YOU GUYS, AND CHAPTER 3 WILL BE UP ON WEDNESDAY!!

Chapter 2 Just a girl

Chapter 2 of Sugar

A/N- Gojo siblings are the cause of everyone’s stress.

Warning- Swearing, ANGST, violence, blood, creepy man, FLUFF, long chapter.

Pairing- Suguru Geto x Gojo!fem-reader

Episode- Before episode 2x01

(Let me know if you want to be tagged)

————

*A MONTH LATER*

You are one with nature. You are one with the elements around you, the elements you can control.

You can feel the air unfurl over the perimeters of your exposed skin. You can feel the air brushing the leaves away, you can feel air unfurl out of the noses of your friends. You can feel the water from the snow that litters the ground, you can feel water in the tiny snowflakes that fall from the white sky. You can feel the dirt beneath the blanket of snow, you feel it beneath yourself, you can feel—hear, you can hear footsteps crunching in the snow….

“Whoa, what is this? What are you guys doing?”

Tsk. Satoru.

“We’re mediating,” you let him know as you keep your eyes closed while he gets closer with none other than Shoko and Geto with him. You don’t need to see to know that the additional footsteps are them—“and Nanami and Haibara are helping me.”

“By what? Helping you hum?” Satoru jokes and laughs all by himself.

You sigh in response and peel your eyes open, catching him plop himself down beside you.

“Actually—”

“How to be one with nature,” Satoru reads the book that was left beside you. “Blah. How cheesy is that?”

You roll your eyes and shoot him a pointed look. “I’m learning how to connect with the elements I can manipulate, brother.” You grumble and notice Geto walking to Satoru's side to take the book from his hands to actually read the words himself; unlike Satoru who just judged the cover.

Albeit not like you care if Geto actually takes the time to skim the pages of what actually matters to you, ever since he helped your brother prank you, ever since you saw him laugh that night last month all you can see is how much of an ass he is. Satoru you can forgive because he’s your brother, but Geto?

You have made it your mission to just ignore him. Or as best as you can anyway, he’s everywhere.

Then again maybe it’s your own fault, you raised your expectations. You let this crush you got for him overwhelm you.

But still, no, you didn’t like that he did that. It just made him seem like some fake jerk. Like he pretends to be kind but he’s actually mean. At least with guys like Satoru, you know what to deal with, but Geto? They know how to manipulate into making you think they’re kind, they know how to speak sweetly, act like it, but then they turn around and reveal how much of a real jerk they are.

That’s why you don’t want to speak to him ever again. You hate guys like that—no, people like that in general. You only have to tolerate Geto because you’re schoolmates, comrades, and because he’s your brother's best friend.

“If I learn to connect with the elements,” you continue to explain. “They’ll be easier to use, they’ll be less heavy and wary on my energy. So that’s why I’m meditating outside, the book says it’s a great way to connect.” You smile proudly as you actually begin to get excited. “And Nanami and Haibara are keeping me company so I’m not alone, and it’s also helping their own mental health.”

Satoru hums, and Haibara flashes a sweet smile.

“It says here that it helps lift your mood and help you feel better about things,” Geto reads off a page, making your stomach churn. “Maybe you should give it a try, Satoru.”

“I already feel great,” Satoru rebuttals smugly and sits back.

You roll my eyes.

“This is why your sister is smarter than you, Satoru,” Shoko retorts with a teasing smile.

Satoru shrugs. “Yeah, perhaps.”

You look at the girl sitting next to Nanami on the stone bench to interject, “you should join us Shoko. Nanami and Haibara have agreed to mediate with me once a week.” You begin to smile and push yourself to your knees to get closer to her. “I'm sure it’ll help you smoke less, and relieve stress from your studies.”

Shoko leans down towards you and shoots you a smile. “Yeah,” she agrees, making my heart skip a beat. “I think I will if I’m not busy.”

You grin brightly. “Great.”

“Maybe I’ll join you too, y/n,” Geto butts in while he steps forward to hand you the book.

You roll your eyes over to him and snatch the book back before you turn and give him your back and don’t say anything. You ignore him and make sure not to let him speak. “Nanami, can you hand me my water?”

Said man takes out two water bottles from your bag to take one himself and then throws one at you, that you catch swiftly.

It’s been one month since starting here at Jujutsu High and you already get along pretty well with your fellow classmates. And well, how can someone not after fighting evil cursed spirits together? Sure you don’t get assigned anything extremely hard, but curses are dangerous nonetheless, and to work better together it’s better to know one another. So it’s safe to say that you’re very close with both Haibara and Nanami; even if Nanami is very reserved.

“Satoru!” You then exclaim and turn at a quick speed to grab his arm as you remember something. “You should have seen me today, man. I totally eradicated that fucking curse today!”

Satoru tilts his head to the side to look at you through his shades, so you let him go to flick your wrists up and imitate an action you did today. “I was like boom!” You share with excitement. “And it got thrown back before he exploded and vanished!”

A smile tugs on his lips. “Ah, did you use the trick I told you?” He asks.

You nod. “Yeah. The sphere worked!”

Satoru’s smile widens. “Cool, I’ll have to see it in action soon then,” he says, letting you sit back against Shoko’s legs with relief that he reacted kindly and with pride.

“Nanami, Y/N, and I planned to go watch a movie soon,” Haibara changes the subject. “You three should come.”

“Oh,” Geto interjects. “About that.”

You blink and look at him with a pointed look.

“We’ve actually been summoned for a mission. The six of us.”

All students? That’s new.

“You just say this now?” Nanami retorts.

“We wanted to relax for a few,” Shoko defends their actions.

You groan. “What a pain in the ass, it was almost the end of the day too.”

Haibara gets up along with Nanami, Satoru follows suit, making Shoko tap your shoulders. “Come on, let’s get on up.”

You groan and drop your head, Satoru then bends down to grab your arm and lift you up to your feet so you can begin dragging yourself after them.

“We can go to the movies tomorrow,” Geto assures all of you.

You pout and only because the school day was about to end, which meant the rest of that evening was free to just relax. Plus Nanami, Haibara and you already went on a mission this morning.

“Y/N, have you bought anything for the Christmas Eve party?” Shoko asks. “Or are you and Satoru going home?”

You tilt your head towards her and shake your head. “Nah, we’re not going home until after, for New Years. So to answer your first question, no, I have yet to buy something.”

“Cool then we should go shopping. I still need to find something too,” she shares, making your spirits perk up. “We can invite Utahime too.”

You grin as you straighten up. “Yeah! That will be so cool!”

“Hey I’ll come too,” Satoru interjects, causing both you and Shoko to counter at the same time.

“No!”

Geto snickers, and Satoru frowns.

“It’s a girl's day,” you tell your brother. “We don’t want mean boys hanging around us. Hang out with Geto or something.”

“Fine,” Satoru mumbles. “Nanami, Haibara, Suguru and I will also go to the mall, that same day. It will be a guys day.” He declares and hits his chest.

You shoot him a pointed glare and spat back. “No, you can’t go to the mall too.”

“Why not?” Satoru retorts sassily, knowing full well why not. “We won’t even be with you guys. We’re going separately. Is there something against that?”

Your eyebrows furrow and you point at him. “Yes!” You look back. “Haibara you won’t go!” You would have told Geto, but you don't want to give him the time of day more than you have to.

“Please don’t bring me into this,” Haibara speaks up nervously.

Satoru tilts his head down and meets your gaze with a smug little smirk, making your annoyance heighten.

Yet just as you was about to counter, Geto cuts in.

“Okay, that’s enough, you two.” He pushes past between your brother and you, but pulls Satoru with him by his sleeve. “Satoru, leave your sister alone. Y/N we won’t mess with your day.”

Satoru peers back and shakes his head, so you flip him off.

Soon thereafter you meet up with the teacher, and he doesn’t hesitate to get to the point of explaining what he needs from all of you.

“I summoned each and everyone of you because we were called to look into what is the cause of recent disappearances here,” he shares and clicks on the computer to show a well kept mansion that’s two hours away from Tokyo.

“At first it started with one every few weeks, the local police thought they could solve it,” the teacher continues. “But multiple people have begun to go missing over the span of a week. Neighbors and people passing by have reported paranormal activity, people going in but not coming out. Your job is too exorcize the cause before the news becomes national. Questions?”

You all pass questioning looks, but neither of you speak up on the matter. You more so question how big of a scale this mission truly is that it requires all six of you. Usually big missions are given to just Geto and Satoru, but this? This isn’t giving you a good feeling.

——

*THE NEXT DAY*

“It’s my first group mission,” you happily exclaim as you pull out a camera from your bag whilst you all head towards the metal gates that surround the mansion. “I want to record this moment to preserve it forever.”

“Recording the day of our deaths seems pretty solemn,” Nanami mutters, whilst you hand the camera to Haibara.

“Hit record,” you instruct quietly as you fix your sleeve that’s wrapped tightly around your arm.

“We’re supposed to be taking this seriously,” Geto interjects as Haibara signals with a thumbs up that the camera is recording.

“Today—”

“Today,” Satoru interrupts as he sways to the side to block you and get in front of the camera himself. “Is my little sister's first group mission,” he continues to speak to the camera. “Group missions are rare, but usually they’re eventful.”

You quickly walk out from behind him to once again be in the cameras shot.

“For example today we are looking into disappearances happening in this very eerie mansion.” He points to the mansion, and Haibara turns to point the camera at the target. “It’s said curses lurk inside,” Satoru narrates, and skips over to be in the shot as Nanami walks ahead to open the gates, letting all of you inside the grounds.

“We’ll see how bad it is once we get inside,” Satoru says, “or will y/n be the biggest curse we see in there!” He chuckles at the camera before Haibara turns to point the camera at you to record your annoyed reaction.

“Anyway,” you sigh and begin to smile. “Today we have me, y/n Gojo, next to me is Suguru Geto,” you point to the man beside you with pretty well hidden disdain. And as the camera pans to Geto, he just waves stiffly, so you move on.

“And behind me is the coolest, Ieiri Shoko!” You exclaim with a wide smile. “Which! It's said she’s hardly sent on any dangerous missions, so she is our companion of honor today!”

Said girl throws a peace sign and grins at the camera.

“We almost have to wonder why it was that she was sent!” Nanami interjects as he leads the group towards the big red doors that lead inside the house.

“And the person with that lovely commentary was Nanami Kento!” You beam and watch as Haibara points the camera over to the blond guy giving his back to the group.

“And here’s me!” Satoru just cuts in harshly as he jumps in frame again. “Satoru Gojo!” He grins. “And lastly—”

“But not least,” you quickly interrupt loudly so your voice can be picked up.

“…behind the camera is Haibara Yu,” Satoru finishes announcing, letting said guy turn the camera to wave.

Now that the introductions are done you finally realize how close you’re getting to the inside. You had been wary and scared earlier, but now that’s all just heightened. You can hear your own blood pumping in your ears, you feel your heart racing in your chest. Once you reach the red doors the more it feels like something is wrapping around your throat, making it hard to breathe.

“We’ve reached the door, so now Nanami is going to open them to our doom,” Satoru narrates in a deep voice.

Haibara is recording beside Satoru with the camera at an angle so all of your faces can be in frame. Well, almost everyone because Nanami has made it his mission to avoid being recorded, plus he’s opening the door and welcoming the sight of…

Darkness, the corridor is dark and empty, only a sour horrendous stench welcomes all of you as the doors get pushed open. No curses lurk at the entrance, only dust particles float around the air. You can only hear the sounds they make in the distance, you can hear their noises echo throughout the dark filled hall. Only adding to the eerines that already polluted this establishment.

“The camera can’t pick up curses,” Satoru continues to speak with no ounce of fear in his voice. “But I’ll like to inform the camera that this entrance is just a haunting darkness that’s filled with eerie sounds.”

You look around, noting that Nanami couldn’t turn on any lights. You notice the tall ceilings, and a large stained glass window over the door that reflects in the only source of light over large double spiral stairs. You see multiple halls, different rooms that surround this dust filled house and you can’t help but feel like this house must’ve been beautiful once upon a time. Now it’s nothing but a haunting trap that looks like it hides something sinister, like whatever curses that are here are just waiting in the shadows. It keeps you on edge.

So much so that as something beneath you pops, you scream and instinctively jump over to clutch onto Geto still by you.

However, mere seconds pass and everything stays still, everyone just stops to look at you. When you realize that there’s nothing you look down and see it was just a bag of chips.

“As you can see, being a Jujutsu Sorcerer doesn’t automatically make you brave,” Satoru comments. “But as always I am the fearless leader.”

“Sorry,” you whisper, and then glance over at Geto to show off an apologetic smile as you let him go.

Geto meets your gaze and offers you a soft amused smile with those dark eyes of his, but! Even if his smile is nice, he still makes your stomach churn so you just quickly look away and go on ahead to reach Satoru instead.

However, only seconds later Geto intervenes before you can make it inside any further. “Okay, it’s time to stop the camera.” He proceeds to reach over to cover it to make Haibara turn it off, while you also come to a stop. “This is what we’re going to do.”

Haibara hands you back my camera so you can put it away while Geto addresses the group. “This place is big, we’ll take long scrounging every hall together, so in order to cover more ground we will split into groups of two.”

Oh?! Hopefully you get Shoko! Or Haibara! Even Satoru would be nice!

“Nanami, you and Satoru will be a team.” Geto announces.

“Sweet,” Satoru celebrates eagerly, whilst Nanami just sighs.

“Shoko…”

You cross your fingers and hope It’s you.

“…You’ll be with Haibara.”

No!

Geto glances over at you a bit puzzled before continuing. “Leaving Y/N and I to be in a group.”

You don’t hide your discontent and groan.

“Excuse me?” Satoru actually tries to protest about Geto and you being a pair.

Geto sighs. “Don’t argue, let’s go. That way we get to go home faster. If you’re in trouble, text or call. Shout if you can, anyone can go and help if they can,” he continues to share his plan. “Once you find the cause just excorize it if we still haven’t reunited by then. If it gets outside someone put up the veil. Understand?”

Haibara nods eagerly. “Got it!”

“Good,” Geto seeks no further confirmation. “Let’s go.”

Just like that, with no room left for arguing everyone disperses with their appointed teammate. Which out of everyone why Geto?

He must want to torture you with this awkward silence on purpose. He probably wants to continue displaying and preaching this fake persona he kept showing off when you first met.

“I need to ask,” Geto breaks the silence and peers back at you as you don’t rush over to follow him by his side. “Did I do something to upset you?”

Oh shit….

Well besides being two faced?

“Nothing,” you lie and only briefly meet his gaze before you continue to walk up the spiral stairs. “Why do you ask?”

Geto slows down his pace to fall beside you, causing your breath to hitch. “Well, you don’t talk to me. And it’s not like our school is full of other students, so we always cross paths. We have the same friends now. And,” he sighs and looks over at you as you keep your gaze averted. “I just sense that you’re upset at me.”

You shake your head. “No. There’s no reason why I should be upset at you.” You shrug to brush it off. “And well you’re my brother's friend, so.”

Geto scoffs. “So what? I'm your friend now too,” he says making you just peek over at him. “And I think you’re pretty cool, and nice to talk to…”

You swallow thickly and quickly snap your eyes ahead to try and see if you can catch any curses while he talks words that…that just are making your head all raveled

“I mean I like the way you think. For example your brother shares completely different ideals than you. The others you know, well, their reasons aren’t so in depth.”

You shake your head and try to protest without anger. “No. My reasons aren’t so deep. It’s just normal, what I feel.”

Geto hums. “Exactly,” he says. “The way you think. Not a lot of sorcerers think the way you do, so I find it intriguing.”

Warmth nips at your cheeks, but you fight against any warm feeling.

“I’m sorry,” he adds and surprises you. Well, you knew he was going to apologize, but as he says it now, so genuinely, you can’t help but be surprised. “For upsetting you. If it was while I was with Satoru then I’m even more sorry. It’s not my place to mess with you the way he does.”

It sounds genuine, like he truly means it from the bottom of his heart, but what if that’s what he wants you to believe? And then he’ll do a 160 and once again laugh at you, prove to be the guy you’re making him out to be?

Or he doesn’t and he’s kind, and…your feelings only develop more?

You could try to stop, maybe look at him less, think of his eyes as something dull rather than the pretty and dark gleaming eyes that are easy to get lost into. You could tell your mind to stop gushing over him, to think of him as simply Satoru’s friend, as a mere comrade—even if for some reason this weird astonishment over him grew since the moment your eyes met….

Fuck.

Damn. Shit. Fuck.

It will be easier to continue and be distant and cold, he is Satoru’s friend after all.

So rather than assuring him that everything is fine, that it’s all forgiven, you simply offer him a small smile. A warm one so he can believe it and you.

“Good,” he says.

You hum and change the subject now to what should’ve been your first priority. “Don’t you find it strange that we have yet to see any curses?” You query as you reach the top of the stairs. “Like at all.”

Geto sighs and looks back at the left hall as you take the right first. “It’s very strange. Considering we can hear them lurking somewhere.”

That only keeps you on edge, you hate that you can hear them, but not see them. And this darkness that fills every inch of this hall is not helping ease anything, so you put your palm out and summon fire on your palm so you can see better. And so at least you’re not as scared.

“Smart.” Geto throws a compliment. “Has Shoko asked you to be her lighter yet?”

Without responding verbally at first you just extinguish the flames lit over your palm, and then have the flames race to your fingertips to have the fire now dance over them. “Yes, she has,” you deadpan.

Geto laughs softly, making your lips break into a faint smile. “Well it’s not surprising,” he says.

You shake your head. “Not when it comes from someone who smokes as much as her.” You laugh softly. “Which, I don’t know how she does it. I smoked one and I couldn’t tolerate the taste in my mouth.”

“Well,” Geto sighs. “It’s not that bad.”

You blink and finally take a good look at him as you remember what he has to do after capturing a curse. You can’t even imagine having to tolerate that for the rest of your life…swallowing curses? That must taste horrible, it must leave a bad taste in his mouth every single time. You admire him for it.

“I suppose,” you express softly as you have the fire lit over your palm again so you can see. “I mean I can’t even imagine what swallowing curses must taste like, so I gotta confess, I admire you for that.”

Geto eyes snap over to you to look at you with soft awe. You hold his gaze for a lingering moment before you’re the one that looks away.

“Thank you,” he whispers.

You hum as a response and keep yourself busy by looking out. Albeit his soft hand then falls on your wrist and that’s all you can focus on.

“Preserve your energy,” he advises. “This place gives me a bad feeling.”

You slowly look back up at him and do as he says and extinguish the flames, leaving you in the dark again, and robbing you of the sight of him. Now all you have is the knowledge that he’s close, you have the sound of his gentle breathing, and the feeling of his uniform coat brushing against your arm.

And it’s all you need to feel safe.

Albeit you don’t go far because that stench that pollutes this house only smells stronger where you are, so you quickly grab his arm and stop him from getting further. “Smell that?” You whisper.

Geto’s feet shift as he takes a second to take in the smell before responding. “Yeah, I think we’ve found our curses.” Geto proceeds to grab your elbow. “I'm sorry but I need you to give us some light again.”

You hum in comprehension and use your other hand to have flames once again lit over your palm. Now rather than just seeing a bland and empty hall, there in front of you is a thick string that connects to a hatch on the ceiling.

Once Geto sees it he passes you a brief concerned and curious gaze, before he lets go of your arm and slips away from your tight grasp to reach the string.

“Ready?” He asks and passes you a quick glance.

You draw in a deep shaky breath, but nod in agreement as you breathe out. Geto breathes out once himself before he wraps his fingers around the end of the string and then pulls the hatch down, bringing down wooden ladders, and letting out a strong wave of that same pungent smell, and more darkness.

There must be something on top though, so you inch towards the ladders. However, just as you do suddenly sharp shrieks boom out from inside of the attic, before dark and long flying curses that look like bats come rushing out.

First it starts with a couple, before dozens of them come flying out, overwhelming you as they surround you.

“Y/N?” Geto calls out now that you can’t see each other because the bat curses are in the way.

They threaten to bite you with their fangs, to cling onto you with their weird hooked nails, but you quickly rebuttal by using your cursed technique to gather the air around you, the air they create by flapping their messed up wings. You then proceed to twirl it around your body before you form spikes, and have them shoot out from all around you to impale each and every single curse that’s around you.

Once there’s none targeting you anymore you notice that Geto is getting yanked up towards the attic by a weird snake-like curse that has him in its mouth, and you fill with anger at the sight. You don’t even think about how much energy you use. All you know is that you conjure up fire from both of your hands, and create a fierce fire made bird that you use to quickly dart towards the curse.

The fire-made bird sinks its talons in the curse and slices the curses entire body as it darts up, letting Geto slip out of its body.

Before Geto can fall forward though, he claws his hand on the edge of the attic floor, and twists around while you have the fire-made bird drag the curse towards Geto without needing to be told, so that he can absorb the curse. Once the threat is gone, he tries to find balance on the ladders, but his foot slips and he instead falls over you as you’re too concentrated taking back the fire-made bird to realize until it’s too late, and he’s over you.

Yet even if all his weight slamming over you hurts, even if hitting the wooden floor hurt, all you worry about is him. “Are you okay?” You ask him as you grab ahold of his shoulder to try and lean in closer and take a better look at his dark eyes that gleam through shadows.

Geto breathes out, you feel his breath unfurl over your nose. “Yeah. Yeah,” he assures you. “Thank you,” he breathes out and makes no attempt to move off you. Nor do you try anything either—“Are you?” He asks quietly and studies you as best as he can.

“Physically? Yeah. Mentally?” You let out a breathless laugh, and meet his gaze again as he looks back up. “I’m terrified.”

Geto swallows thickly and lets his eyes flicker down, past your eyes. “We better hurry then,” he says.

You hum, and glance down at his lips for a second before you lock eyes again for a few lingering moments more before Geto climbs off you. Not fretting to grab your hand and help you up to your feet.

And once you can see around you again you notice that there’s curses spread out, not gathering around you or Geto.

Yet that doesn’t spare them, Geto doesn’t hesitate to use his technique, basking the hall in bright blue as he exorizes the curses ahead of you. While you spin around and run ahead only a few paces before you slide on your feet as you conjure the air around you towards your hand, and then swing it forward to exorcize all the curses ahead.

Once they’re all gone you get up and turn towards the smell that pollutes the air. “They were weak curses,” you point out and look over at Geto, noticing him swallowing the curses he had just exorcized.

When he’s done he hesitates before he turns. “Yeah,” he agrees and quickly averts his gaze as if ashamed by what he just had to swallow—“At least those bat things were. The one that got me was fast.” He looks up at the attic. “Whatever’s here is strong. We need to hurry and find it.”

How can you tell him that what he did just now is nothing that he should be embarrassed about in front of you? It’s an odd thing, but it’s not something you fear or are disgusted at.

“Come on let's check this out,” Geto points to the attic as he moves to grab the ladders to begin climbing them.

You watch him first, wanting to tell him that you don't mind what he does, no matter how gross he thinks it is. But you don't have the courage, nor do you want to exceed yourself considering the deal you struck with yourself. So you just leave it be and then follow him up the ladders.

Nevertheless just as he pops his head past the gape on the ceiling, he stops moving and freezes, not letting you get over.

“Hey,” you call out. “Is everything okay?”

Geto looks down at you and you notice the disbelief on his face and get frightened. Yet it also intrigues you. “What is it?” You probe cautiously.

“If I simply told you, would you be content with that?” He asks quietly.

He’s speaking so deadpanned, and his eyes are wide with shock, so no matter how curious you are, you don’t want to face the horror that's hidden in that attic.

“Yes,” you answer quietly.

Geto swallows thickly before he finally reveals what made him so shocked. “It’s…bodies.”

You feel your body stiffen, and even though you didn't see the atrocity, your breath still hitches.

That would explain the smell…and the curses.

“Is there anymore curses up there?” You ask under your breath.

Geto shakes his head. “I think the ones that were up there are the ones we just exorcized.”

You draw out a deep nervous breath and simply nod in comprehension before you climb back down to the floor.

Now things are starting to connect; the missing people, the curses, this house, the eerie stillness.

“So,” you interject as Geto climbs down. “We’re not dealing with a curse specifically, but a curse user?”

Geto’s feet hit the ground and he doesn’t wait to fold the ladders back up before he answers. “Yeah, that’s my theory too.” He lets go of the string and rubs his forehead with his thumb. “We need to tread lightly and meet up with the others. Dealing with a person like this makes this trickier.”

You nod and proceed to follow him back where you had come from. When you take out your phone to text Satoru though, it says you have no service. “I have no connection here,” you point out and close your phone shut.

Geto groans. “Must be some curse or the damn person jamming our connection. Damn. We can’t even call out, the person might be close.”

You stay quiet and just make sure to stick very close to him as you walk back to the corridor. You still try to cling onto that certain deal of continuing to dislike him, but you can’t seem to actually be able to see it through, especially not now as you continue to tread through this haunting hall, as the thought of death now begins to torment you at thought that a murderer is behind the horrors here.

Yet how can you be afraid? You, a sorcerer with abilities others only dream of, abilities that can kill curses and people alike. How can you be afraid? You, a Gojo who comes from a long line of great sorcerers, fearless ones at that; your own brother is one of those fearless sorcerers, so how can you be scared? Why should you?

“Are you doing okay?” Geto notices the fear, he can’t see your face in this darkness, but he can feel your fear. How great is that?

“Well…” you pause and gnaw on your thumb nail. “I guess I’m a little scared…”

Geto hums. “That’s okay,” he says without hesitation.

You sigh. “Is it?” You counter. “I mean we are sorcerers, we should be fearless.”

“I think if we were fearless we’d be stupid, fear helps us plan out our strategies doesn’t it?” He continues to say. “We try to avoid the danger and come up the safest route out of fear. We fear loss and try to avoid it—”

You cut him off with a breathless laugh. Now you can’t see him, but you hear him take a small breath as he’s hit with confusion that you interrupted.

“It reminds me of something I read,” you explain yourself. “Each day I’m plagued by three doles. These gargantuan weights on my soul: First, that I must somehow exit this fen. Second, that I cannot know when…”

“…And yet it’s the third that torments me so, because there’s no way to know where the hell I will go,” Geto surprises you by finishing the poem along with you.

“I’ve read it,” he adds softly.

You smile at the ground and feel your face burn as you’re completely flustered.

“Fearing loss is normal,” he continues. “But I will not lose you today. Satoru would kill me first of all, and second, well, I just won’t because I don’t want to.”

You smile wider. “Thanks,” you respond and look over at him. Yet through darkness all you see is the gleaming of his eyes already looking at you.

“We’ll have to wait if the person isn’t here won’t we?” You query with disdain.

“Yeah, that is our mission. Get rid of the cause,” he summarizes the objective.

“Which also means checking out every room,” you remind him.

Geto sighs, and rather than continuing towards the colorful natural light that shines through the stained window across the stairs, you turn in opposite directions to search the rooms that come up.

Since the lights don’t fucking work you conjure up fire and walk inside the room. Albeit it just holds a normal bedroom; there’s a bed, a desk, a tv, photos…of a young man with an older creepy looking man, that same young man with other different people in many photos. It makes you wonder if the killer is any of these photos.

“I’ve been meaning to say!” Geto shouts from his room. “I’ve been thinking, and, you can boost up your strength by mixing your technique with hand to hand combat.”

He’s been thinking about you?

“How much do you know?” He asks.

You walk away from the photo wall and walk to a closet and respond back. “Well, a lot but you know I’ve never actually tried using my technique with my hand to hand combat,” you admit as you open the closet doors. “I just can’t find a balance, using my technique takes a lot of concentration, so does fighting, so I just never used it!”

“Ah, well we’ll find you the right balance! I think that your meditation will help too!”

You close the closet doors and ignore your somersaulting heart. He couldn’t have given it this much thought.

“You’d be very powerful when you mix both abilities,” Geto's voice echoes out louder as you now head out of the room.

And when you walk out, he walks out from his room too. “Anything over there?” Geto asks.

You shake your head, “No,” and you finally make out his face thanks to my fire. “How the hell can you see?” You ask teasingly.

Geto shrugs. “I have good senses.”

You giggle. “You could’ve just passed the killer without you knowing. There could’ve been a trap and you wouldn't have a clue.”

Geto scoffs softly. “Well next time I’ll bring you with me then, firefly.”

You grin at him and shake your head at that nickname. “Don’t call me that. I don’t like it.”

“It’s nice. It’s you,” he retorts with a smile. “Literally because your finger lights up before you expel fire. Like a firefly’s ass.”

“Then,” you rebuttal. “I’ll have to call you something in return…” you trail off and tap your bottom lip to think.

“Don’t.”

“Sugar!” You exclaim smugly. “That’s what you’ll be from now on.”

Geto shakes his head with a frown on his face.

You laugh and nod in return. “It’s cute. It’s like your name, Suguru, Sugar.”

Geto turns and walks to the last door on his side, you try to follow to provide light, but he shifts on his feet and goes across the hall.

“You said you were gonna take me with you,” you remind him. “I’m your light.”

“Actually I don’t need you anymore,” he rebuttals.

You scoff. “You started it,” you throw out as you walk back towards the room.

“And I’m ending it. Now look!”

You turn on your heels and open the door, but yell out first. “Whatever you say, Sugar!”

Geto groans in the background, leaving you content and letting you face the room to walk in with the fire still lit over your palm. And to your surprise you come across a room filled of your reflection.

“What the hell?” You muse quietly and slow down your pace as you attempt to walk in deeper. “Cool. Or creepy?” You turn and just see dozens more of your reflection deep in the glass.

It’s just a room full of mirrors. Geto will find this strange too. It must be. You don’t have a good feeling about this room.

Yet just as you part your lips to call out, suddenly the door slams shut, causing you to snap around to face the now closed door.

“Geto?” You call out and walk to the door, but then more mirrors begin to unfold over the door, making the mirrors box you in like a glass box, and causing full blown panic to completely crash into you. “Suguru!”

“Y/N!” Geto calls out and his voice now seems to be outside the room, but you can’t see the door. “What’s wrong? Why is the door locked?”

Music begins to play inside the room, a creepy little tune like one from a music box—

It’s a domain. You’re stuck in a cursed domain.

“I don’t know!” You respond back to Geto. “There’s a bunch of mirrors here! It’s some domain, all I see is me! Help me, please.” You try not to show fear, you try to be strong, but you can’t keep up the brave act.

“Okay, okay, I hear you,” he says back. “I’ll try from out here, but for now, counter attack with the strongest technique you have. You hear me? You got this.”

Yeah, yeah he’s right…he’s right.

You let out a shaky breath and nod even if he can’t see you. “Yeah-yeah.” You step back and open your fist as you begin to summon your fire dragon. He’s still a work in progress, but he’s strong, he can break you out.

However, as your palm begins to glow a bright red from within, your reflection seems to be getting closer, every single one of them.

“Y/N, you still in there?” Geto calls out.

The mirrors are closing in on you as you’re using your technique, fuck, fuck, fuck! You need to do this faster.

“I’m here!” You yell and quickly look down at your arm, seeing how bright red lines begin to slither out towards the rest of your left arm. That causes your tight sleeve to begin to get burnt off as a trace of the fire dragon is drawn around your arm.

Once it’s fully formed you expel it out as big as you can in this clamping room, and overwhelm this dark room with the light of bright flames. Your dragon proceeds to breathe out fire around the perimeter, and that makes every single mirror break into shards that suddenly hurl out at you.

“Y/N?!” You hear Geto yell with panic, but you’re too focused on using air to throw the shards back, to answer back.

There’s only a small amount of air inside this domain, you don’t have a lot to work with, and what you use leaves you short of breath and gasping. Thus only the shards aimed at your head, chest, and face are thrown back. The other glasses stab your limbs and knock you to the ground, making you cry out.

“Y/N!”

And the moment all the shards hit you suddenly everything around you changes, mirrors don’t appear anymore, the room you were once in doesn’t surround you, and your fire dragon is gone due to your lack of concentration. There’s just darkness, you’re surrounded by pure darkness.

“Suguru?!” You call out with tears filling your eyes. You try to stand, but the glass in your flesh hurts so you fall back down. “Suguru?!”

That annoying tune is gone and now a tapping sound coming from behind you fills the void. You try to ignore it and try to conjure fire, you try to use anything, but even if the glass isn't too deep, it still torments you, it weakens you. You can only turn slowly to try and see, hope that it’s Geto or maybe even Satoru.

Yet when you look, it’s no one you know, it’s some woman in a blood stained white wedding kimono and long veil that covers her face.

Is this what trapped you? It has to be, there’s nothing else around you.

Your fire-dragon attack must’ve caused her own attack to activate, leading you here with her just standing there in the distance.

“Will…you…stay…with…me…forever?” The curse asks, letting you figure out what this is, a binding vow.

“Well, well,” a second voice cuts in, making the curse and domain vanish around you, and instead leaving you in some kind of basement, or…dungeon with bad white lighting.

“What did you see?” The voice asks again, this time when you look towards it, you see the same creepy man from the picture. He’s much older now though—“huh?”

You don’t respond, you drag yourself back and drop your gaze to look at a glass stabbed in your leg.

“You’re lucky that you can see them,” the man says as he sharpens the knife in his hand. “I can’t. I can sense a part of them, but I can’t see them.”

You swallow thickly and slowly reach for a piece of glass in your leg as the man continues to speak.

“Which is why you might be curious as to why you’re here.”

You wrap your hand around the glass, and lift your eyes to look over at the man so he won’t suspect anything.

“I use people,” he laughs maniacly. “I kill them for the spirits that live in my house so they don’t torture me.”

So he’s not a curse user then? He’s just plain human?

It could be easier to escape then.

“You,” he continues to blab. “You’re one of those special people, the one who can kill the spirits?”

You don’t respond, you clench your jaw and slowly take a piece of glass out of your leg. The pain is so intense you want to cry out, but you bite your tongue and hold in that scream, letting the man continue to talk.

“You should make for an interesting ghost. A powerful one like the one who asks to stay with her.”

You lift your eyes and look at him, catching him swipe a knife off the counter as he slowly turns to face you. Luckily you already pulled the glass out of your leg, so all he catches is your hand hidden behind your back.

“I wonder,” the man says and begins to walk towards you. “What color do you bleed?”

You swallow thickly and keep dragging yourself back to try and stay away from him as much as you can.

“Let me see the inside of you,” he mutters and shows off a creepy smile.

You scoff and turn away to get on your hands and knees. You don’t say anything, you just try to drag yourself away to lure him close.

When he does get close he grabs your feet to try and pull you back, but you suddenly snap around and swing down on his chest.

Albeit when the glass stabs his chest he just groans before he slaps his hands on your hips and begins to drag you back.

“Let me go!” You bellow and try to kick your leg back, but the glass in your flesh hurts, causing you to stop your attempts and instead groan in complaint.

“Don’t worry I’ll make your last minutes worthwhile?” The man mutters and pulls you back harder.

You cry out and instead of trying to play fair, you focus the rest of your energy on using your technique. He says he can’t see curses, he’s a non-sorcerer so he doesn’t know what to expect, he can’t fight back against your technique, it will be an easy escape.

Thus, you focus on the earth beneath the cement floor to try and raise a piece of it. Albeit just before you break off a piece of earth from in front of you, the man then stabs the glass on your back, making you use your instincts and throw your leg back.

The man yelps and falls back, letting you reach back and pull the glass out of your back through the pain that blinds you and makes you cry out. When the glass is out you throw it to the side and try to drag yourself away, but the pain keeps you paralyzed where you are, leaving you unable to even squirm.

So this was his plan, paralyze you so you’re an easier target.

“Bitch, get back here!” He seethes and slaps his hands around your legs and drags you back towards him. The glass already in your body stabs itself deeper due to the movements, so you can’t find the strength to fight back, you cry out in pain and fall.

“Please,” you try to beg as you dig your fingers in the ground. “I won’t try anything, just let me go! I’ll tell my friends to leave, just please let me go!”

The man scoffs and grabs your arms to flip you around so you can face his creepy face. “As if, you witches are annoying and persistent. They’ll never leave me alone, not unless I kill you.” He chuckles slowly and leans in closer towards you. “I’ll parade your body around so they know I’m strong.”

You throw your hand out to try and use the fire you can summon, but he captures your wrist and then twists it, making the pain heighten.

“Stop! Stop! Please!” You beg with a shaky voice. “Please.”

The man moves his hand to your throat and squeezes hard. “Don’t worry, I’ll make good use of you before your friends get here.” He whispers. “I’ll take the glass off your body, I’m not a monster.”

You meet his gaze and draw back saliva before you spit on his face. “Fuck you.” You bellow out and yank another piece of glass off your body to stab his eye.

The man cries out and stumbles back, letting you push yourself up to your feet to pull out another piece of glass from your body to hit him. However, the man catches your swing and uses his other hand to counter and swing his palm across your face before he then kicks you back to the ground.

“Bitch!” He grimaces and then stomps over to grab a fistful of hair to drag you back towards a cell.

You try to use your technique, but he seems to know, he catches you concentrating so he slams his foot on a piece of glass and weakens you, making you stop your attempts to fight back.

“Now I’ll just kill you in front of your friends,” the man sneers. “I’ll kill you.” He spats and kicks you back. “Using this same glass,” he continues and proceeds to yank out every shard of glass out of your body rapidly, making sure each action hurt, making sure you reacted with a scream every time.

“Please.” You beg again.

Albeit when the man yanks out the last piece of glass, he swings down and stabs your hand but pulls the glass shard out to just leave a gape in your hand.

“There now you won’t use your powers,” the man mutters angrily and begins to walk back out of the cell.

You still try to fight back, but there’s no energy left within you, you’re left weak, defenseless. Your technique already uses a lot of your strength so after all these wounds, after this fear, you’re too weak. You’re useless.

.

.

.

.

.

[kingofangst]

List 5 things that make you happy, then put this in the askbox for the last 10 people who liked or reblogged something from you! Get to know your mutuals and followers ❤️

(i'm swamped with schoolwork rn so i can't respond but tysm for sending and pls tell me all about the things that make you happy!!)

No worries❤️ I totally understand as schoolwork can be extremely stressful (I attend Community College and despite it being only 2 years it is still stressful😩😩 plus I am in the financial industry💀💀) but I can do it again

1. Creating fanficitons from fandoms: Teen Wolf, Hunger Games, Titans/DCU, Jujutsu Kaisen and more.

2. Learning new facts and knowledge about the world

3. Watching movies and documentaries

4. Food & Beverages🍛🍷

5. Learning a new language (Merci Beaucoup🇫🇷 and Kamshamnida🇰🇷)

[ynverse]

definition of husband material

NANAMI x gn! reader | headcanons

a/n: i want nanami to love me so bad that it’s helping the patriarchy. also passenger princess is used in a gn way (i call EVERYONE my passenger princess)

nanami who completely embodies the aspect of being husband material. from the way he talks to the way he comes home to you everyday, there was no doubt in your mind that nanami kento was the definition of husband material. for example:

no matter what he’s doing, he will ALWAYS send you a text if he will be late. he has dodged curses just so he can pull out his phone to tell you he might be a minute late to your date

nanami will always let you be passenger princess. you can not fight him on this. he wants you to be able to relax and focus on the journey while he focuses on the road and your intertwined hands (the way he makes turns one-handed <33)

he also always puts a hand on the passenger seat whenever he backs up the car. nanami has no idea why you get so excited about it but it never fails to make you swoon for him

he always kisses your forehead as a goodbye despite the location. he knows he’ll get teased if he does it in front of gojo but that doesn’t stop him from gently pressing his lips to your forehead

nanami will randomly bring the back of your hand up to his lips to press a kiss, always following through with an “i love you”

nanami who always says “i’m home” not when he opens the door, but when he wraps his arms around you and pulls you closer, gently swaying as he takes in your warmth

[lostfracturess]

remedies and reasons | ch. 02

pairing — professor geto x law student reader

summary — this wasn’t supposed to happen. not that miserable internship at the law firm you hated, not him becoming your doctor, and definitely not that drunken night at the bar. but he helped, and god, you needed a friend. and he did too. except it's never just friendship with him, is it? it could be perfect—messy, complicated, but perfect. if only his heart wasn’t already taken.

word count — 12.3 k

warnings — 18+ ONLY. contains explicit sexual content, age difference (10 years), doctor-patient relationship, smoking, alcohol use, mature themes, and depictions of illness. reader discretion is advised.

author's note — yeeaaaah, guess who's back with a fresh new chapter !! i know, i know, it's been forever since i last posted, but here we go, be prepared to die from second-hand embarrassment. massive thank you to @nanamis-baker for beta reading and calling me out on my plot holes. & as always, this story is a spin-off of symptoms and causes, starting after ch 12. but you can read it as a standalone.

masterlist + playlist + ao3 + wattpad

<- prev chapter | next chapter ->

You never thought you'd find yourself in the chemistry lab on a Saturday morning, but there you were, helping your best friend Megumi set up his experiment for his thesis presentation. 

You were a law student, not a scientist.

The closest you'd come to a lab was binge-watching "Breaking Bad" on Netflix.

But Megumi was your ride-or-die since kindergarten, so when he called you at the crack of dawn, frantically rambling about his professor, his thesis, and some chemical you couldn't even pronounce, you threw on your favorite hoodie and raced over to campus.

"Okay, so where do we start?" you asked, eyeing the array of beakers, test tubes, and Bunsen burners that looked like they belonged in a mad scientist's lair.

Megumi ran his fingers through his messy black hair, a habit he'd had since childhood whenever he was stressed. "Well, first we need to mix these two solutions." He handed you a beaker filled with a clear liquid.

You took the beaker gingerly, as if it might explode at any moment. "You sure you trust me with this? I mean, I don't even remember the last time I was in a lab."

"I have faith in your ability to follow instructions," he said.

You eyed him wearily. 

What have you gotten yourself into?

You spent the next hour mixing, measuring, and occasionally cursing under your breath when something didn't go quite right. As you worked, your mind drifted to your internship at the most prestigious (and pretentious) law firm in the city that had started a few weeks ago. It already felt like the most stupid thing on earth happening to you.

Okay, okay, you had applied there yourself. But you didn't think they would actually accept you. 

Unlucky luck or so.

The first week at Nishimura and Asahi had been a total nightmare. The law world was nothing but cutthroat competition, where even the coffee machine seemed to be judging you. That must have been the reason why you spilled coffee on your shirt on the second day of your internship. And you had nothing to change into. 

And yes, you had a meeting that day too.

But the worst part was that mortifying incident in your first week. You accidentally barged into the wrong office and caught two senior partners in a, uh, very compromising position. Let's just say the image of their shocked faces and scrambled clothes was forever burned into your brain. You swore you'd never enter another office again unless you absolutely had to.

Thank goodness for Mr. Higurama, your advisor. He was the only sane person in this whole place. If it weren't for his calm attitude and genuine support, you'd probably have been back at law school by now, rocking back and forth in a corner.

The third week? Bearable. But worse in its own way. Endless boring tasks and emails that were basically passive-aggressive warfare. And then, just when you thought it couldn't get any more uncomfortable, HR reminded you in week three that you still hadn't turned in your health certificate. 

At least you managed to do that.

It reminded you of a certain—date, or no, meeting? appointment? Or what was it?—You had with your doctor. 

Oh god, what were you thinking?

"Okay, so now I need you to hold this," Megumi said, handing you a graduated cylinder filled with a bright blue liquid that looked suspiciously like something toxic.

"What is this stuff?" you asked, eyeing it suspiciously.

"Just a harmless indicator solution," he assured you. "It'll change color when the reaction is complete."

"Great," you said, trying not to sound too sarcastic. "So, basically, I'm holding a ticking time bomb that's going to turn purple and explode all over me if we mess this up?"

"Not quite. But try not to spill it, okay?"

You tried not to look at the potentially toxic thing in your hand while you rambled to yourself again in your mind. Where were you? Oh right, what the hell were you thinking about going out with the very person who saw your health history? In what world was that appropriate?

"What is it?" Megumi asked, ripping you out of your thoughts.

Just now, you realized that you must have had some weird facial expression, and you quickly straightened it. "Nothing."

He looked at you with a deadpan face. "I think I've known you long enough to know when something is going on.”

You sighed and then started. "I swear, these people at the law firm are the worst. All sharks in tailored suits and ties. Everyone's constantly trying to one-up each other, backstabbing, and throwing people under the bus left and right."

"Sounds delightful," Megumi said dryly.

"Oh, it gets better," you continued, warming to your subject. "There's this one guy, Chad—I don't even know his real name, but I call him that 'cause he's got one of those typical douchebag faces—and he's like the walking stereotype of every jerk law student you can imagine. He's so full of himself, talks down to everyone, and thinks he's God's gift to law or whatever."

"And he's at your internship?"

"Unfortunately, yes," you said, making a face. "He's always trying to make me look bad, steal my ideas, and just generally ruin my day. It's like having an annoying mosquito buzzing in your ear 24/7."

"Sounds like a real charmer.”

"You have no idea," you said with a sigh. "And the worst part is, he's not even the only one. There's this whole group of them—like a 'Chad Pack'—and they seem to enjoy making the rest of us feel incompetent. He's just a spoiled rich kid, and his dad is a big shot at the firm, so he gets away with everything. I can't even call him out on his bullshit without risking my internship. It's like being back in high school with the bullies."

"See the positive, at least you haven't caught any more senior partners in compromising positions again, right?"

"Oh god, don't remind me!" You covered your face with your hands. "I swear, the senior partners can't even look me in the eye anymore—"

You got cut off by a loud pop and a cloud of smoke billowing from one of the test tubes. You both jumped back, coughing and waving your hands to clear the air.

"What the hell was that?" you sputtered, your eyes watering from the acrid smell.

Megumi peered at the smoking test tube, his brow furrowed. "I think we may have added too much of the catalyst," he said, scribbling furiously in his lab notebook.

"You think? Oh god, I'm going to die here."

"At least that would save you from your internship?" he said.

You eyed him, deadpan.

Just as Megumi glanced up, likely ready with another witty comment, the lab door swung open with a bang, startling you both. "Hey, losers!" Nobara's cheerful voice echoed through the lab, her laughter filling the room.

Losers. 

That's what Nobara affectionately calls your little mismatched group. And maybe she's right. You're an unlikely quartet, brought together by chance during your first year of university. Megumi, the chemistry nerd. Nobara, the wild-child pharmacy student. Yuji, the sports freak. And you, the aspiring lawyer who's beginning to question her life choices.

You don't quite fit in with the typical crowds in your respective fields. You guess you could say you were the outsiders, the misfits, the ones who gravitated towards each other because you didn't quite belong anywhere else.

You'd known Megumi since childhood, but you met Nobara and Yuji during the first few weeks of university at a rather uneventful mixer where you were essentially the only people not already in groups.

Yeah, you were losers, but at least you were in it together.

Without waiting for an invitation, Nobara plopped herself down on the lab bench, right next to Megumi's carefully arranged experiment. "So, how's the science project going?" she asked, curiously examining the colorful liquids bubbling in the beakers.

"Just trying to survive Megumi's thesis experiment," you replied.

Megumi raised an eyebrow. "Actually, it's going pretty well. We're nearly finished preparing."

Undeterred, Nobara hopped off the bench and slung an arm around your shoulders. "Blink three times if I should get you out of here."

"Please," you said.

"So, what are you two up to today? Any exciting plans?" Nobara asked, glancing over at Megumi. "We should grab some lunch. Yuji is finishing up his training soon, too."

You glanced at the clock on the lab wall, expecting it to be around 10 a.m. Your jaw dropped. "It's already noon?! How did that happen?"

Nobara grinned. "Time flies when you're having fun, right?"

"Or when you're stressing over a chemistry experiment," Megumi said, scribbling more notes.

You turned to Nobara. "How's that thesis treating you?" you asked, knowing the final thesis was looming over all of your heads. That's why you were all at the university, even on the weekends.

She shrugged. "It's fine, I guess. Boring, but whatever. It's gotta get done." Then, her face brightened. "But hey, guess what? There's this huge party coming up next weekend! It's hosted by some med students from another university."

Megumi and you exchanged puzzled glances. "Why would we go to a party with a bunch of med students we don't even know?" you asked.

Nobara's eyes sparkled. "Apparently, the guy hosting it is loaded, and rumor has it, this party is going to be wild."

"Wild how?" Megumi asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Think open bar, live DJ, even a pool," Nobara said dramatically. "Plus, it's a chance to meet new people, expand our social circles."

"You mean meeting future doctors?" you said, knowing that Nobara always dreamed of dating one. She watched way too much Grey's Anatomy. Dating a doctor is probably not as much fun as it seems.

"Hmm, maybe," she said with a sly grin.

You hesitated. Parties weren't really your scene, and the idea of mingling with a bunch of strangers, especially med students with a reputation for being wild, arrogant, and having god complexes didn't exactly appeal to you. 

They probably strut around like they've discovered the cure for brain tumors while the rest of us mere mortals are just trying to figure out how to parallel park. Yeah. No, thank you.

Nobara sensed your hesitation. "Please, do it for me," she said, batting her eyelashes at you.

"Okay," you said, surprising even yourself. Damn, you were really easy to convince. "Count me in."

Nobara squealed and threw her arms around you. "Yes! This is going to be awesome!"

Megumi simply shook his head. "I guess I'm going too, then."

"Now that that is settled," Nobara said, playfully clapping her hands together. "Wrap up your little experiment, science boy, so we can go get some food. I'm starving, and I'm pretty sure she's about to pass out from low blood sugar." She pointed at you.

"Almost done," Megumi assured her, carefully transferring a final solution into a test tube. "Just need to record a few more readings."

Nobara bounced on her heels. "Come on, hurry up! The world is waiting for us!"

Megumi rolled his eyes. "Alright, alright. I'm done. Let's go."

He quickly tidied up his workstation, meticulously storing his precious samples and equipment. Meanwhile, Nobara was already halfway out the door, her excited chatter echoing down the hallway.

You grabbed your bag and followed them out of the lab, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. The experiment was done, lunch was just around the corner, and a wild party awaited you all next weekend. Maybe university wasn't so bad after all. 

Or maybe it was just the promise of mediocre cafeteria food and great friends that made everything seem a little bit brighter.

─────── ౨ৎ ───────

After lunch with your friends, you found yourself back in the comfort of your small apartment. You pulled out your paints and a fresh canvas, and before you knew it, hours had passed without you even realizing it. The daylight faded into a soft golden glow as the sun began to set.

You were just adding the finishing touches to your painting when your eyes happened to glance at the clock on the wall. "Oh shit," you said, slapping your forehead with your paint-covered hand, leaving a vibrant streak of blue across your skin. 

You had a... date? No, wait, a meeting... or was it an appointment? Because he was a doctor technically, right? 

Quickly setting your paints and brushes aside, you rushed to the bathroom to clean up, silently cursing yourself for getting so caught up in your painting that you nearly missed the time.

You arrived at the sports bar with a nervous flutter in your stomach. 

This wasn't a date, you reminded yourself for the umpteenth time. It was just a casual meeting with someone you'd recently met. Nothing more. Definitely nothing romantic. No hidden agendas, no expectations. But even though your intentions were purely platonic, you couldn't deny the flicker of nervousness. 

Maybe it was just the excitement of meeting someone new.

Dr. Suguru Geto.

He was your doctor, yes, but he was also intriguing, with his kind eyes and gentle smile. Your conversation seemed to go beyond the usual small talk from the beginning, maybe it was the unusual way you met.

You shouldn't have asked him to meet, a voice in your head nagged. Why did you do this again? Because of his sad puppy eyes? You groaned inwardly. You couldn't even explain it to yourself. It had slipped out before you could stop yourself.

But to your surprise, he had agreed. 

And now, here you were.

The atmosphere in the sports bar was electric. The roar of the crowd, punctuated by cheers and groans, echoed through the dimly lit space. The smell of stale beer and greasy food hung in the air. You didn't expect it to be so crowded. It was a rather niche bar.

A basketball game blared on the numerous screens, and the air crackled with the excited chatter of sports fans. You weaved your way through the crowd, your heart pounding a little faster with each step.

The walls were plastered with sports memorabilia, jerseys of local heroes and faded photographs of past games. The flickering lights of the numerous screens cast dancing shadows on the faces of the people.

Waitresses weaved their way through the throng, balancing trays laden with overflowing pitchers of beer and plates piled high with nachos and chicken wings. Every eye glued to the screens showcasing the nail-biting basketball game.

You spotted Suguru at the bar, his broad shoulders hunched slightly as he focused on the game. His back was to you. Taking a deep breath, you approached him, standing beside him and mirroring his gaze towards the screen.

"Think they'll try a full-court press now?" you said.

"I doubt it," he replied, not looking away from the screen. "They're already down by ten with only two minutes left. It's too risky."

"True," you agreed. "But they need to create some turnovers fast if they want any chance of a comeback."

"You know your basketball." He finally turned his head, his eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Hi," you said, raising your hand in a half-hearted wave and immediately regretting it when you realized how awkward it felt and let your hand fall to your side. You slid onto the stool next to him, the vinyl squeaking slightly.

"Oh hi," Suguru said. "Sorry, I didn't even realize it was you. Didn't expect you to be into basketball."

"My dad played in university. Some of it rubbed off on me, I guess."

Suguru then waved at the bartender. "What do you want?" he asked you, smiling.

You watched him take a sip of the beer in front of him. "I'll have the same," you replied, returning his smile.

The bartender, a burly man with a handlebar mustache, nodded and swiftly retrieved a chilled bottle from the cooler. With a practiced flick of his wrist, he popped the cap and set it before you, the condensation already forming tiny droplets on the smooth glass. You took a sip.

You couldn't help but notice how good Suguru looked outside the clinical setting. His usual white coat and scrubs were replaced by a casual outfit that somehow amplified his attractiveness. 

His long, black hair was pulled back into a half bun, a few stray strands framing his face. He wore a simple shirt with an overshirt layered on top, the sleeves rolled up to his forearms, revealing surprisingly muscular arms. 

Damn, you thought to yourself, trying to subtly avert your gaze. He's definitely not your average doctor. But you're definitely not your average patient too, to be fair.

"It's great to see you outside the clinic," Suguru said. "How have you been? Is your medication working well?"

You rolled your eyes. "I thought we agreed not to talk about medication and stuff outside of the hospital?"

"You're right, sorry. I guess I don't talk about much else often...might be getting a bit rusty," he said, sounding like a grandfather.

"So, no hobbies or interests besides medicine, huh?"

"Not much, to be honest."

"Besides a certain woman, that is," you teased.

His eyes met yours with a deadpan face. "Didn't we agree not to talk about such things outside of the hospital?"

You took another sip of your beer, feigning innocence. "Did we?"

"Now we did."

"Hmm," you hummed, eyeing him curiously.

Suguru looked at his beer briefly, then nearly whispered, "Did Satoru often talk about her?"

You bit your lip, suppressing the urge to tell him just how much he actually talked about her. Memories of countless appointments with Dr. Gojo flooded back. He'd often ramble on about her, their shared studies, the things he loved about her—

You even found yourself dreaming about the color of her eyes once, just because he'd mentioned them so often. The image of Gojo's lovestruck face whenever he mentioned his girlfriend flashed before your eyes.

No, you decided. Some things are better left unsaid.

"No, not really," you lied smoothly, taking another sip of your beer. Time for a subject change, you thought, maybe something to distract him from his lovesickness. "Did anyone ever tell you that you have a seriously intense stare?"

Smooth, real smooth, subject change.

"A few people have mentioned it," he said, caught off guard. "But it didn't seem to bother you."

"Yeah, because underneath, you looked sad. Like a sad little puppy."

"Haha," he said ironically.

"So, really no hobbies? Besides basketball, it seems."

"Not a die-hard fan, but I enjoy it.” His eyes briefly darted back to the game on the screen. "I used to play a bit myself. Back in high school and university." He paused, a fond smile playing on his lips. "Satoru and I were on the same team."

"But you don't play anymore?"

"No." His smile vanished. "We started together but Satoru eventually quit in the second year of university to focus on his studies. It wasn't much fun after he left the team, and I quit some time after."

"Hm," you mused, taking another sip of your beer. "Who was the better player? You or Gojo?"

His smile returned. "Oh, I was definitely better. But if you ask him, he'll say he's the better player. But don't tell him I said that. I wouldn't want to bruise his ego."

You laughed. "I'll keep your secret."

"So, who's your team?" he asked.

"Lakers, all the way. Been a fan since I was a kid."

"Good choice. They're looking strong this year."

"Totally. Though their defense has me a bit worried."

"Fair point," Suguru said. "But with LeBron and Davis, they're still very strong."

"No doubt. I'm hoping they can make a deep playoff run this season."

Just then, someone knocked over a glass a few tables away, drawing both your attention to the commotion. Once it settled down, Suguru turned back to you, taking a sip of his beer. "Now, how about you, why do you want to become an attorney?"

You hesitated, thinking. "Because it pays well."

He raised an eyebrow. "Can you give me another reason?"

You hesitated, thinking harder.

You bit your lip. Okay, you got his, think. Why law school? It's not like you're passionate about legal shit or courtroom drama. You hated the stuffy suits, the endless paperwork, and the cutthroat competition. So, what was it?

Maybe it's the power? The ability to fight for justice, to make a difference in the world? You scoffed inwardly. Yeah, right. More like the ability to argue with anyone and everyone, even if you're wrong. 

Perhaps it's the prestige? The fancy title, the corner office, the envious glances from your childhood school friends? You rolled your eyes at yourself. Please. Who are you kidding?

So, what's left? you wondered, a hint of frustration creeping into your thoughts. 

Why are you doing this to yourself?

You sighed, defeated. The truth was, you didn't have a good answer. You'd stumbled into law school on a whim, following some vague idea of success and stability. But now, as you neared graduation, you were beginning to realize that maybe this wasn't the path for you. 

That you didn't even like it.

"I... I don't know, exactly," you finally admitted. "I guess I come from a working-class family. My parents always emphasized the importance of a stable career, something safe and secure. Law seemed like a good option."

You looked up at him, searching his eyes for any hint of judgment. "Is that a bad reason?"

He paused. "Not necessarily," he said slowly. "Stability and security are important. It's valid to go for that. But they shouldn't be the only reason."

"Yeah," you agreed, taking a sip from your beer. As he watched you, you suddenly felt exposed under the gaze of this man you barely knew. "How did you know you wanted to do medicine?" you asked, hoping to shift the focus away from your own uncertainties.

"It wasn't a sudden realization," he began. "It was more of a gradual understanding. I've always been fascinated by the human body, the way it works, the way it heals. And I wanted to be a part of that process, to help people in some way."

He paused, his expression turning somber for a moment. "It's not always easy," he admitted. "There are long hours, difficult cases, and fucked-up moments. But at the end of the day, when I see a patient getting better, smile again… It makes it all worthwhile."

"Sounds like you found your calling," you said, a touch of envy in your voice.

"I did," he agreed. "But there were times, especially during my residency, when I thought about quitting. The stress was insane, the workload never-ending. But I had a few close friends who kept me going. They reminded me why I'd chosen this path in the first place. It's important to have people who believe in you, even when you doubt yourself."

A light smile spread across your face as you thought of Megumi, Nobara, and Yuji, your mismatched but fiercely loyal friends. They were the ones who made you laugh until your sides ached, who listened to your endless rants about law school, and who always had your back, no matter what. You were so grateful to have them in your life.

Then, curiosity got the better of you. "So, Dr. Gojo was that person for you? Helped you through the tough times?"

"Satoru? Help me? More like he's the reason why I almost went insane." Suguru huffed and shook his head. "He was always getting into trouble, always pushing the limits. I was the one constantly having to chase after him, keeping him in check."

"Sounds like you two have quite the history."

"Yeah, we do." His smile faded slightly as he looked down at his beer, gripping it a little tighter.

Right, touchy subject, you remembered. Back in the MRI room, he'd mentioned they'd drifted apart. You quickly decided to steer the conversation in a lighter direction.

"Hey, let's get some shots!" you exclaimed, waving over a bartender. "My treat."

Suguru raised an eyebrow. "I thought you wanted me to show you the city?"

"Yeah, well, it's kinda chilly out there," you said, waving a hand dismissively. 

You'd almost forgotten the little white lie you'd told him to get him to go out with you. You've lived in Tokyo your whole life. You could probably offer to show him around. It's not like he seems to ever leave the clinic. 

"Besides, who needs sightseeing when you can have shots?" you added.

The bartender arrived, and you ordered a round, telling him to surprise you.

"What are you planning with those?" Suguru asked as the bartender lined up the glasses, each filled with a different vibrant liquid.

"How about a game? We each make assumptions about the other, and if we're right, the other person has to take a shot."

"The doctor in me should probably stop us from drinking mindlessly," Suguru said, eyeing the glasses before him. "I'm game."

"Great." You took a deep breath, trying to gauge his personality beyond the white coat. "Assumption number one, you were a total nerd in high school."

"Wow, your assumption about the doctor is that he was a nerd in school? Isn't that like, a given for anyone who studies medicine?"

"But is it true?" you pressed, raising an eyebrow.

He hesitated for a second. "Guilty as charged." He raised his first shot glass in surrender, beige liquid disappearing between his lips. "Math club, science fairs, the whole deal."

"Ugh, really? Math club?"

"Don't judge me," he said. "It wasn't that lame."

You eyed him skeptically.

He sighed. "Okay, okay, it was lame. One point for you. My turn." Suguru narrowed his eyes playfully. "Hmm, let's see... Assumption number one, you have a secret passion for something completely unexpected."

"Wow. You've gotta be a little more specific than that. That's lame."

He leaned in a bit closer, his gaze sweeping over your face. A sudden warmth spread through your cheeks. "You're into art."

Your breath hitched. For a split second, you wondered if he was some kind of mind reader or a magician with a hidden crystal ball. Or probably stalked your Instagram. "How did you—" 

He pointed to your forehead. You quickly reached up and found a tiny blue dot near your hairline that you must have forgotten to wash off. "You really pay close attention to details," you said as you wiped it off.

"Occupational hazard," he replied with a shrug and a hint of a smile. "I'm a doctor, it's my job to spot even the smallest clues."

"Well, you got me."

"What kind of art do you do?" he asked.

You hesitated for a moment, a wave of self-consciousness washing over you. You'd never really shared your love for painting with anyone, not even your closest friends.

"I... I paint," you finally said. "It's just a hobby, really."

"But it's more than a hobby, isn't it?"

You looked away, feeling a blush creep onto your cheeks. He was right. Painting was more than just a hobby. It was a passion, a dream. But nothing worth pursuing.

"Enough about me," you said, drawing the purple shot, blueberry you assumed, in front of you in one go. You wanted to steer the conversation away from yourself, at least for now. It felt too raw, too exposed. "Let's get back to the game. My turn for an assumption."

You paused dramatically, tapping your finger on the bar counter as if deep in thought. "Okay, here it is, You always dreamed of being a neurosurgeon, like you were obsessed with it."

"Wrong," he said. "Not even close."

"You wanted to do something else?"

"Well, there was a brief period in my residency when I considered gynecology."

You leaned forward, your eyebrows shooting up. "Gynecology? Seriously?"

He shrugged. "Can't a guy like gynecology too?"

"No, I mean... I just didn't expect it, that's all. But you ended up with neurosurgery. How'd that happen?"

"Neurology has always fascinated me. The brain, the nervous system—It's all so complex, so intricate. And Satoru was into it too. He was always the one drawn to surgery, the adrenaline rush of the operating room. I guess I just followed his lead." He paused. "I don't even know why, really."

"But you enjoy surgery, right?" you asked.

"I do. It's challenging, rewarding, and sometimes even a bit thrilling. But if I'm being completely honest, I think I'm more suited to research and teaching. You know, figuring out the mysteries of the brain, sharing what I know."

"And that's how we met, isn't it?" you said, smiling. "Me, the patient with the mysterious brain thing, and you, the doctor trying to crack the case."

"I guess you could say that. But epilepsy isn't that uncommon. About 50 million people worldwide have it."

"Come on, let me feel special for a second, doc."

A warm smile spread across his face. "Okay, okay. But I must admit, you're more captivating than I first realized, attorney."

His words sent a flutter through your stomach. Was that a compliment or an insult? you wondered, but the warmth in his eyes made you lean towards the former. 

The bar's noise faded into the background as you became lost in your own little world. It was as if the rest of the world ceased to exist, leaving only the two of you.

"And what did you think of me, then?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching yours. "I thought you were... intriguing," he finally said, his voice husky. "Intelligent, witty, and surprisingly resilient. But also a bit stubborn and stupid."

"Ouch," you said.

For a heartbeat, your eyes locked with his, and your stomach fluttered, a sensation you hadn't experienced in a long time. The bar's dim lights cast a soft glow on Suguru's face, highlighting his ridiculously attractive features in a way that made it impossible to look away.

Heat crawled up your neck and you tore your eyes away. "It's kind of stuffy in here, or not?" you said, fanning yourself with your hand.

"Wanna grab some air?" he suggested.

The cool night air was a welcome balm against your flushed skin. Suguru reached into his pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. You watched him, surprised.

"You smoke? A doctor, no less."

He lit his cigarette with a practiced flick of his wrist. "Don't get on my case, attorney," he said, exhaling a plume of smoke into the night sky. "Everyone has their vices."

"I suppose," you said, leaning against the brick wall of the bar. "But I thought doctors were supposed to be, like, paragons of health and virtue."

He shrugged, taking another drag. "We're only human. We have our flaws, just like everyone else."

"Is it true what they say, that doctors are always self-medicating?"

"Are you asking me if I do drugs?" he asked.

"That's what you're implying now."

He took another drag. "I don't. But I've seen it, yeah. More than you would think."

"Should I be scared?"

He laughed, warm and full. A sound you could definitely get used to. "I'd probably stick with me, yeah."

"Just the nicotine addict then," you said. "Seems manageable."

And seeing him smile like that—

"It's good to see you smile," you added softly, almost without thinking.

He met your gaze, a hint of surprise flickering across his features. You could almost see him noticing the lightness in his own demeanor, so different to the usual somberness that clung to him back in the clinic. Maybe it was the casual setting, the relaxed atmosphere, or perhaps it was simply your company. 

Whatever it was, you were glad to see this side of him.

A slow breeze swept through the alley, carrying a hint of autumn's chill. You shivered, realizing you'd left your jacket inside the bar in your haste to escape the heat. Suguru noticed. "You cold?"

"A little," you admitted.

Without a word, he shrugged off his own jacket and draped it over your shoulders. The warmth of the fabric, still carrying his scent, enveloped you, chasing away the chill. And without the jacket, his physique was on full display. 

The simple shirt clung to his broad shoulders and sculpted chest. His forearms, exposed by the short sleeves, were corded with muscle. You tried your best to focus on the conversation, but let's be real, it was a struggle not to stare.

"Thanks." You pulled his jacket closer, trying to play it cool. "I didn't realize it would get so cool out here."

"No problem. Better than catching a cold, right?"

You nodded, feeling a warmth spread through you that had nothing to do with the jacket. This is not a date, you reminded yourself. Not a date. He's technically your doctor. But then again, what doctor goes to a sports bar with their patient?

Something must be wrong with him.

The math club thing was already a red flag.

"So," he said, breaking the silence, "who's your favorite artist?"

You blinked, surprised by the question. "My favorite artist? Why do you ask?"

He shrugged. "Just curious."

You hesitated, then the words started tumbling out. You rambled on about William Turner's dramatic seascapes, how his brushstrokes captured the rawness of nature. You gushed about the hidden symbolism in Botticelli's "Primavera" and the emotional intensity of Munch's "The Scream." 

You even shared your newfound fascination with contemporary artists like Yayoi Kusama and her mesmerizing infinity rooms. Suguru listened patiently, his eyes never leaving yours as you went on and on.

Oh shit.

You're doing it again, aren't you? A wave of self-consciousness washing over you. Rambling on and on about art. He's probably bored out of his mind. You bit your lip, wishing you could reel back the words, but it was too late. The art gusher had been unleashed. 

Why do you always do this?

"Sorry," you finally said, breathless and embarrassed. "I tend to get carried away when I talk about art."

He laughed again, warm, comforting. "Don't apologize. It's good to see someone so passionate about something. It's contagious."

You smiled, surprised that you hadn't completely embarrassed yourself. Somehow, the conversation with Suguru flowed so easily. You found yourself enjoying his company, his wit, and his genuine interest. You enjoyed being with him.

"So," Suguru said, "if you had to pick just one favorite artist, who would it be?"

"Hard to choose. But if I had to pick just one, it would probably be William Turner."

"Turner?" he echoed. "I'll have to look him up."

"What about you? Do you have a favorite painter?"

"Not really. But I haven't seen your paintings yet," he said. "I guess I know who my favorite painter will be then."

You felt a blush creep onto your cheeks, his words sending a shiver down your spine. Did he just...? Was he flirting with you?

Before you could gather your thoughts and formulate a response, Suguru cleared his throat, breaking the spell. He stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray. "Shall we go back inside?" 

You nodded.

The warmth and stale air of the bar hit you like a wall as you stepped back inside. And you might have had a bit too much to drink at this point, you realized. As you made your way back to your seats, a group of men at the bar caught Suguru's eye.

"Hey, Suguru!" one of them called out, waving him over. "Didn't expect to see you here tonight. Care to join us for a game of darts?"

Suguru hesitated, glancing at you. "I'm actually with—"

"Sure, we'd love to!" you interjected, meeting his gaze. "I love darts."

Suguru's eyebrows shot up. "You do?"

"Sure, I mean, it can't be that hard, right?"

"You sure you wanna join them? We usually bet too," he said.

"Oh, even better."

Suguru eyed you weary. He was probably already calculating the damage to his wallet if your dart-throwing skills were anything like your general clumsiness.

You made your way over to the group, and Suguru quickly introduced you. He rattled off a series of names, but honestly, they all blurred together. Tall men, some handsome, some not. All very confident. Some with questionable facial hair choices.

One of them, a tall guy with a mop of curly hair, handed you a beer, uncapped it, and raised his own in a toast. "Welcome to the crew. Suguru here doesn't usually bring company, so you must be special."

You looked over your shoulder to meet Suguru's eyes with a look that said, Oh, you really are a loner, huh? He just sighed at you in response.

"So," the curly-haired guy continued, "did you play before, or are we gonna have to go easy on you?"

You shrugged. "I'm not completely hopeless." You could practically hear Suguru's internal groan beside you.

"Alright, everyone," the curly-haired guy announced, grabbing a notepad and pen. "Let's get the bets in. We doing teams of two again?"

A chorus of eager voices responded, each man vying for the chance to challenge the new couple in the group. You and Suguru, to be exact. 

You stepped up to the dartboard. "So," you said, picking up a dart and examining it, "how exactly do you hold this thing?" A collective groan erupted from the group. Suguru's smile vanished.

Oh boy, you could practically hear him thinking, this is going to be a disaster.

One of the men, blonde hair, eager to show off, stepped forward. "Here, let me show you—"

But before he could reach you, Suguru smoothly interjected. "Allow me," he said, gently taking the dart from your hand.

He positioned himself behind you. His hand enveloped yours, his fingers warm and strong against your own. He adjusted your grip, his touch lingering on your skin. His other hand rested lightly on your lower back, a subtle yet electrifying touch that made your stomach flutter.

"Like this," he said, his voice close to your ear. "Relax your grip, focus on your target, and let it fly."

You could feel his breath on your neck, his chest rising and falling against your back with each inhale and exhale. Your senses were overwhelmed — the scent of his cologne, the warmth of his body, the soft rumble of his voice in your ear.

You struggled to focus on the dartboard, your mind reeling from the unexpected intimacy of the moment. You hadn't quite anticipated this, but you didn't hate it. 

Maybe you even... liked it.

For a moment, you forgot all about the game, the bets, the curious onlookers.

"Got it?" Suguru's voice.

You nodded, your cheeks flushed.

"Alright then," one of the guys called out, short black hair, freckles, clapping his hands together. "Let's get this show on the road!"

The men took their turns, each showcasing their varying levels of skill. Some landed their darts with precision, while others elicited groans and playful jeers from the group.

Throughout it all, Suguru remained close, his arms crossed over his broad chest, occasionally brushing against your shoulder as you observed the others' attempts. You could practically feel his tension mounting with every throw. 

Finally, it was your turn. You stepped up to the throwing line, all eyes on you, amusement and skepticism painted on their faces.

"Wait, where do I stand again?" you asked.

A few chuckles rippled through the group. You could practically hear Suguru's wallet crying in his pocket.

One of the guys, brown shoulder-length hair, stepped forward. "Bit closer here—"

But before he could reach you, you smoothly turned, your arm extending in a perfect arc. The dart flew through the air, landing with a satisfying thunk right in the bullseye.

Dead silence. 

Then, a collective gasp, followed by a chorus of disbelieving exclamations. "Bullseye!" someone shouted. "No way!" another one exclaimed.

Suguru's jaw practically hit the floor. He stared at the dartboard, then at you, like he'd never seen you before. "You—" he stammered, clearly at a loss for words. "You're good?"

You turned to face him, a grin spreading across your face. "Told you I wasn't completely hopeless." You sauntered back to Suguru, leaving the men in stunned silence. You reached for the beer he'd been holding for you, taking a long sip. "So, we're splitting the winnings 50/50, right, Doc?"

Suguru, still a bit dazed, blinked a few times before a slow grin spread across his face. "Deal."

The rest of the game was a blur of laughter, trash talk, and cheers.

Freckles-guy gave your shoulders a quick massage before your next turn. Long brown hair got you another beer. Suguru was frantically trying to keep up with your score on the notepad, his eyebrows furrowed in disbelief.

The bar erupted when you landed another bullseye. Strangers high-fived you, and suddenly the whole place seemed to be watching. The bartender even announced a round of free shots on the house.

At one point, you ended up on Suguru's shoulders. Bullseye. You even tried throwing blindfolded, spinning around, and then letting one fly. Bullseye again. Okay, not every shot was a bullseye, but they were damn close.

Then there was that one time Suguru pulled you close, his lips brushing the top of your head in a playful kiss. You barely knew him, but even you knew that was surprising. He was so unlike the composed surgeon you'd met in his office. It threw you off so much you almost missed your next shot, but you still nailed it.

Another bullseye. Seriously.

You were about to hand off your beer to Suguru so you could take your next turn, when some large figure bumped into you, sending a wave of cold beer cascading down your front.

"Shit, I'm so sorry!" a male voice exclaimed, red hair. 

You looked down at your shirt, now soaked in a sticky, amber-colored mess.

"Are you okay?" Suguru's voice. 

You looked up to see him standing protectively in front of you, his eyes narrowed at the clumsy culprit.

"I'm fine," you said, trying to brush off the sticky residue. "I'll be right back." You quickly made your way to the women's restroom, leaving him standing amidst the lingering stares of curious onlookers.

Once inside the dimly lit bathroom, you assessed the damage. The sticky liquid had soaked through your shirt, leaving a large, unsightly stain right across your chest. You groaned inwardly. Of all the nights to spill a drink on yourself, you thought, it had to be tonight.

You turned on the faucet, hoping to at least rinse off some of the sticky residue. But as you dabbed at the stain with a damp paper towel, it only seemed to spread further, creating a chaotic blend of colors that resembled a modern art masterpiece gone wrong.

"Great," you muttered to yourself, throwing the soggy paper towel in the trash. "This is just perfect."

You tried blotting the stain with another paper towel, then with hand soap, then with a random assortment of toiletries you found under the sink. But nothing seemed to work. In fact, it seemed like you were only making it worse.

You glanced at your reflection in the mirror, a frustrated sigh escaping your lips. Your once-put-together appearance was now a disheveled mess. Your hair was slightly damp from the frantic cleaning attempts, and your shirt looked like it had been attacked by a bear or so.

Just my luck, you thought, a wry smile tugging at your lips.

In a final act of desperation, you grabbed a wad of toilet paper and scrubbed at the stain like a madman. The flimsy fabric of your shirt, already weakened by the moisture, couldn't withstand the onslaught. With a sickening ripping sound, a small tear appeared near the neckline, rapidly expanding into a gaping hole.

You stared at the damage in disbelief. "Seriously?" you groaned, throwing your hands up in defeat. This night just keeps getting better and better.

You glanced at your watch, your eyes widening in horror. You'd been holed up in the bathroom for almost fifteen minutes. Suguru must be wondering what on earth was taking you so long.

Panic set in. 

You couldn't go back out there looking like this. Your shirt was beyond repair, and you certainly couldn't walk around half-naked in a crowded bar.

Your eyes darted around the bathroom, searching for anything that could salvage the situation. A roll of duct tape? A strategically placed safety pin? A magical fairy godmother with a sewing kit? No such luck.

Just as you were contemplating your options — which seemed to range from hiding in the bathroom forever to fashioning a makeshift bandage out of toilet paper — a gentle knock sounded on the door.

"Attorney?" Suguru's voice filtered through the thin wood. "Everything alright in there?"

"Just a minute!" you called back, your voice slightly muffled as you frantically rummaged under the bathroom sink cabinet for something, anything, to help you out. In your haste, you stood up too quickly, forgetting about the low-hanging sink. Your head collided with the porcelain with a resounding thwack.

"Ow!" you yelped, clutching your head.

"Attorney?" Suguru's voice was laced with concern now. "What was that? Did you hurt yourself?"

"Nothing!" you lied, wincing at the throbbing pain. "Just... dropped something."

You heard the doorknob rattle, then Suguru's voice again, more insistent this time. "I'm coming in."

Before you could protest, the door swung open, revealing a worried Suguru. His eyes scanned the bathroom, taking in the scene — the ruined shirt in the sink, the damp paper towels scattered on the counter, and you, clutching your forehead with a grimace, wearing nothing but your bra and jeans.

He quickly averted his gaze. "What happened? Are you hurt?"

You groaned, still clutching your head. "I hit my head on the sink. It's nothing serious, just a bump."

"Let me see," he said, cautiously turning his gaze back to you. He walked over, careful to keep his eyes focused on your face. He gently tilted your chin up, his fingers brushing against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. His eyes were filled with concern as he examined the growing bump on your forehead.

"It's not too bad." A relieved sigh escaped his lips. "But we should probably head home and put some ice on it."

"I'm sorry, I'm such a mess," you said.

"A mess? You're a dart champion, as far as I'm concerned."

"Told you I like sports bars," you quipped, attempting a weak smile.

An awkward silence hung in the air, broken only by the muffled sounds of the bar's revelry filtering through the door. You fidgeted, acutely aware of your exposed skin and the warmth radiating from Suguru's close proximity.

"Here," he said suddenly. "Take this."

You looked up to see him pulling his shirt over his head, revealing a sculpted torso that could rival any Greek god statue. Your breath hitched in your throat, your eyes widening involuntarily. He handed you the soft cotton shirt.

You took the shirt, your fingers brushing against his as you did so. A jolt of electricity shot through you, and you quickly pulled your hand back.

"Thanks." You pulled the shirt over your head. It was warm from his body, and the scent of his cologne clung to the fabric, sandalwood and something else you couldn't quite place.

Suguru quickly slipped back into his overshirt, buttoning it up. "Better?" he asked, his voice laced with a hint of amusement.

"Much better. Thank you."

"You know, for a future lawyer, you seem to attract a fair bit of chaos."

"It's a blessing. Or maybe a curse. I haven't quite decided yet."

"Well," he said. "It certainly makes life interesting."

You couldn't help but laugh, but the sound caught in your throat as a sharp pain throbbed through your forehead. You winced, bringing a hand to your head.

"Whoa, you okay?" Suguru asked.

"My head," you mumbled, the pain intensifying. "Think I hit it harder than I thought."

In an instant, he was all doctor again. He gently tilted your chin up, his fingers cool against your flushed skin. His eyes, now serious and focused, scanned your face, searching for any signs of a concussion.

"Does it hurt anywhere else?"

You shook your head slightly, your gaze locked with his. You were so close, you could feel the warmth of his breath on your face, the subtle rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. It was intoxicating. No, that can't be—It must be the alcohol. Definitely the alcohol.

"Just a bump," you assured him, your voice barely a whisper. "It'll be fine."

He continued his examination, his fingers tracing the outline of your jaw, the curve of your cheek. His touch was gentle, yet electrifying, making your knees weak.

"You're sure?" he asked again, his voice husky.

You nodded, unable to tear your gaze away from his. The air between you crackled, the boundaries between doctor and patient blurring once again.

"Yeah, I'm sure," you repeated.

He hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching yours. Then, slowly, almost tentatively, he leaned in closer. His face was inches from yours now, his warm breath fanning across your cheek. You held your breath, your heart pounding in your chest.

"So," he began, “what exactly did you do to your shirt to end up like this?"

You burst into laughter, the sound slightly breathless. "Oh, it's a long story."

"You really are chaotic, aren't you?" He reached out then, his fingers lightly brushing over your cheek. You took a sharp inhale.

"I'm sorry, I'm a little bit drunk, I think," he said, his gaze fixed on your lips. Oh god, why did he have to look at your lips with those perfect eyes?

You nodded, your lips parting slightly. "It's okay, I think I'm a little tipsy too." The words caught in your throat, replaced by a silent plea for him to close the remaining distance between you.

"We should probably head back inside," he said.

"Is that a question?"

"I mean... we should go back," he stammered, his eyes flickering between your lips and your eyes.

"Do you want to go back?"

"Don't ask me that."

"Why?" you whispered, leaning closer.

"You know why, attorney."

"But it's my job to get clear answers," you countered. "I can't make decisions based on mere assumptions."

He snaked his arm around your waist, pulling you closer. The warmth of his body against yours sent a wave of heat through you, and you tilted your head up, meeting his gaze.

"I could get in serious trouble for this," he said. "A doctor and his patient..."

"Only if someone sues you," you teased. "And I'm not gonna sue you."

"How old are you again?" 

"You know how old I am."

The possibilities hung in the air, heavy, unexpected, irresistible. You reached up, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw, feeling the smooth skin beneath your fingertips.

Suguru's breath hitched at your touch, his eyes fluttering closed for a brief moment. When he opened them again, the intensity in his gaze stole your breath away. It was as if he'd finally surrendered to the pull between you, the last of his reservations crumbling away.

"Ah, fuck it," he said.

Before you could react, his lips crashed against yours. You gasped at the sudden contact, your lips parting in surprise, and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue sweeping into your mouth to tangle with yours.

The kiss lit a fire in you, a heat that spread from your lips to the tips of your toes. His hands roamed your body, one tangling in your hair to tilt your head for better access, the other spreading across the small of your back to press you tightly against him.

You melted into him, your hands fisting in his shirt. He kissed you like he was starving and you were the only thing that could satisfy his hunger. The room was spinning, the world tilting on its axis, and all you could focus on was the taste of him, the feel of his hands on your body, the way he made you feel like nothing else existed but this moment.

His hands were everywhere, skimming over your sides, teasing the swell of your breasts through your, sorry, his shirt, leaving you gasping for more. You arched into his touch, craving more, needing to feel skin against skin.

In that moment, you didn't care about the consequences. 

Suguru's hands drifted lower, squeezing your ass, pulling you harder against him. You couldn't resist grinding against him, chasing that maddening friction, that perfect pressure right where you needed it most. He groaned into the kiss, the sound vibrating through you.

Desperate for more, you slid your hands under his shirt, exploring the hard planes of his chest, feeling the muscles twitch and flex beneath your touch. He shuddered, his abs contracting as your fingers danced over his heated skin.

Breaking the kiss, Suguru trailed his lips down your jaw, nipping and sucking as he made his way to your throat. You let your head fall back, giving him better access, a breathy moan escaping you.

"Keep making sounds like that and I won't be able to stop myself from fucking you right here," he warned.

His words made your head spin. The idea of him bending you over the sink and claiming you, right here in this dingy bathroom with a bar full of people just outside — it was reckless, stupid, the most brilliantly terrible idea you'd ever had.

"Maybe that's what I want," you dared, tangling your fingers in his hair and tugging, urging him on. "Maybe I want you to take me right here.”

Let's be real, you were beyond caring about propriety or the risk of getting caught. All you cared about was the man in front of you and the heat he ignited within you.

You could feel him smile against your skin. “Oh really?”

As Suguru's lips moved against yours, his hands began to explore your body, tracing the curves of your hips and thighs. He pulled you closer, his fingers digging into skin as he ground against you, letting you feel exactly what you were doing to him.

The hard, heavy press of his erection against you made you moan into his mouth, your body arching into his. Holy shit, he was huge, you could already tell. Your knees nearly buckled at the thought of him inside you, stretching you, filling you so full you could barely breathe.

God, you needed him.

He broke the kiss, his eyes dark as he reached down to fumble with the button of your jeans. You couldn't help but gasp as he finally got them open, his fingers slipping inside, seeking the warmth between your legs.

He traced the outline of your underwear, lingering on the damp patch where your arousal had already begun to soak through the material.

"Fuck, you're so wet." He groaned, his eyes closing. "Can I?"

Your eyes snapped open. "Did you seriously just ask permission to finger me?"

"I'll take that as a yes." 

Without hesitation, he hooked his fingers under the edge of your underwear and tugged it aside. The first touch of his fingers against your core made you moan. He was so warm, his skin rough and calloused in the best way as he slid two thick digits deep inside you.

"Oh fuck," you whimpered, your head falling back against the wall.

He pumped his fingers in and out, setting a deep, slow rhythm. The wet sounds of him finger-fucking you echoed off the bathroom tiles, along with your desperate pants and bitten-off curses. You could feel yourself getting wetter by the second, coating his fingers and dripping down your thighs.

Suguru captured your lips in another kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth to dance with yours. It was messy and frantic, more panting into each other's mouths than any real skill, but fuck if it wasn't the hottest thing you'd ever felt.

With his free hand, he grabbed hold of yours and pinned it above your head, his fingers lacing with yours. The cold press of the wall against your heated skin made you shiver, making every touch and sensation feel even more intense.

His fingers worked you mercilessly, curling and scissoring and rubbing in all the right ways. You could feel your orgasm building embarrassingly fast, your inner walls starting to clench around him. 

Fuck, you'd never gotten this close this quickly with anyone else, never felt so utterly fucking wrecked with just a few touches.

Just as you were teetering on the very edge, your thighs shaking and your moans picking up in pitch, the bathroom door suddenly flew open with a bang.

"Oh my god!" a startled voice yelped. "Sorry!"

Suguru immediately slipped his fingers out of you, and you scrambled to pull your jeans back up, your face on fire. The woman booked it out of there, slamming the door behind her and leaving you both in the most awkward silence of your life.

Suguru cleared his throat, taking a step back and rubbing the back of his neck, refusing to meet your eyes. "Sorry," he said. "I shouldn't have... that was way out of line."

You stared at the floor, your cheeks burning hotter than the surface of the sun. "It's fine," you said. "We're both drunk. Alcohol makes people do dumb shit."

The silence stretched out between you, thick and heavy and so fucking uncomfortable you wanted to scream. You kept replaying the kiss, the way he touched you, the feel of his fingers inside you — it sent shivers down your spine, even as shame turned your stomach to lead.

You'd never done anything like this before — making out with someone you barely knew, letting him finger-fuck you in a gross sports bar bathroom after knowing him for like, five hours. What were you thinking?

Part of you wanted to die of embarrassment, to sink through the floor and disappear forever. But another part of you didn't want this night to end. 

Suguru was exciting, different. And somehow it felt so easy. Easy to talk, easy to laugh, easy to — be yourself. And that was something you hadn't felt in a long time.

Finally, Suguru broke the silence. "We should probably get you home," he said. "We had a lot to drink, and you hit your head. I want to make sure you're okay."

"Yeah," you agreed. "Home sounds good."

─────── ౨ৎ ───────

You wanted to forget that night. 

Bury the memory of Dr. Suguru Geto's hands between your legs six feet under and never dig it up again. But no, your brain had other plans. It was like trying to unsee a particularly embarrassing video of yourself — technically possible, but your brain seemed determined to keep replaying it on loop.

Back at the law firm, you navigated the busy corridors, two steaming cups of coffee clutched in your hands. One was for Mr. Higurama, your mentor, and the other was for your own sanity.

Higurama was one of the best. Without him, you'd have bailed on this stupid internship within the first week. He was meticulous, dedicated, and knew the law like the back of his hand. But he was also, let's be honest, a bit strange.

He'd rather spend his weekends reading dusty old legal texts than having a life. And his obsession with obscure legal trivia was — something else. He'd drop those obscure historical law facts that left everyone scratching their heads. 

Maybe that's why you two clicked. You were both the oddballs in a sea of perfectly polished lawyers.

As you rounded the corner, you spotted him — the intern whose name you could never remember, but who you'd mentally dubbed "Chad" for his obnoxious attitude and perfectly-gelled hair. He was strutting towards you, his tailored suit and smug grin practically screaming "I'm better than you."

"Well, well, well," he drawled. "Look who's playing coffee delivery girl."

He reached out a hand, expecting you to hand over one of the cups. You sidestepped him. "Nice try, Chad," you retorted, continuing your walk towards Mr. Higurama's office.

You could hear his indignant huff behind you. "That's not my name!"

You just rolled your eyes and kept walking, a smile tugging at your lips. Whatever, Chad, you thought to yourself. His name is the least of your problems right now.

You knocked lightly on Mr. Higurama's door, a nervous flutter returning to your stomach. Even after weeks, you still couldn't shake the feeling of being a fish out of water in this fancy law firm.

"Come in!" Mr. Higurama's voice called out.

You pushed open the door, a smile spreading across your face at the sight of your mentor. He was buried under a mountain of paperwork, his brow furrowed in concentration. He looked up with a start as you entered.

"Oh, hey," he said, blinking in surprise. "You're a lifesaver. I was just about to send someone out for a caffeine fix."

He glanced at his watch, his expression suddenly turning serious. "Oh shit, we're running late," he said, scrambling to gather the scattered papers on his desk. "We need to leave for that client meeting in five minutes."

"No problem," you said, trying to sound calm despite the sudden rush. "I'm ready."

You walked over to his desk, carefully balancing the coffee cups in one hand. As you reached for a stack of files, your foot caught on the corner of the rug, sending you stumbling forward. The coffee cup lurched in your hand, its contents splashing onto the neatly organized papers on Mr. Higurama's desk.

You froze, the coffee dripping from the once-pristine documents. 

Higurama looked up at you, his face a mask of — well, you weren't sure what. This wasn't the first time you'd pulled a stunt like this.

"I'm so sorry. I swear I'm not doing this on purpose,” you said.

But before you knew it, you were in the car. No time to reprint the papers, apparently. With a resigned sigh, Higurama quickly gathered the damp forms, and you both rushed out to his car.

The drive was filled with a tense silence. You wanted to disappear into the car seat, your embarrassment a heavy weight on your chest. Finally, you couldn't take it anymore.

"So," you ventured cautiously, "what's this client meeting about?"

"We're going to the hospital," he said. "A group of doctors is in a bit of a... difficult situation."

"Oh, is it related to a patient?"

Higurama let out a long sigh, his shoulders slumping slightly. "Don't ask," he said, his tone more tired than annoyed.

You shrank back into your seat, deciding to keep your mouth shut for the rest of the ride.

Higurama led you through a maze of corridors, his footsteps echoing on the polished linoleum floor of the hospital. Though you were somewhat familiar with the building from your visits to Dr. Gojo, this particular wing was kind of new to you. 

As you approached the meeting room, you could hear the muffled sounds of a heated discussion. Higurama paused, straightening his tie and composing his features into his usual stoic mask.

You were kind of freaking out. A case involving doctors? That was new. Seemed unusual for Higurama too, since you both usually dealt with international affairs. Must be a special case. Higurama pushed open the door, and you stepped into the conference room.

And then you saw him.

No, them — both of them.

Dr. Gojo.

And Suguru.

They were sitting at the far end of the table, Suguru's arms crossed, his expression unreadable. Your heart lurched in my chest, surprise and mortification flooding through you.

Oh my god, you thought. He's one of the doctors.

The realization hit you like a ton of bricks. The man you'd nearly fucked in that filthy bathroom just a few nights ago, the man whose lips you could still feel on yours — was now your client. The embarrassment of the situation threatened to swallow you whole, and you desperately wished you could disappear into thin air.

Suguru and Dr. Gojo were locked in a heated debate. Their voices rose and fell, words a flurry of medical words and frustrated exclamations.

"That's why we should do biomarkers that could help identify patients at higher risk," Gojo said.

"We can't ignore the data," Suguru countered. "The preliminary results show a significant increase in CAR-T cell persistence with the modified construct. We need to investigate this further."

"But the neurotoxicity risk," Gojo argued, his tone equally firm. "We can't overlook the potential complications. We need to refine the targeting strategy, minimize off-target effects."

"We can address those concerns in subsequent phases," Suguru argued back. "We can't afford to stall progress."

The argument escalated, their voices echoing through the room. Dr. Gojo stood abruptly, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. He strode to the whiteboard, scribbling something furiously with a marker. They still hadn't noticed you.

You wanted to flee, to crawl into a hole and die. You took a step back, then another, ready to make a run for it, but Higurama's hand shot out, gripping your blazer and holding you in place. He gave you a look that said he wanted to flee just as much as you did.

Oh god, please let this be over soon.

Suddenly, Higurama cleared his throat.

Both doctors turned around, surprise plastered on their faces as they noticed you and Higurama standing there. Suguru's eyes met yours for a split second, and you could practically feel the awkwardness radiating off of him before you quickly looked away. The knot in your stomach tightened.

Dr. Gojo, however, recovered quickly, a charming smile spreading across his face as he saw you. "Oh, hey. Didn't expect to see you here too."

You managed a weak smile. "Hello, Dr. Gojo."

"How have you been feeling?" Gojo asked you. "Any side effects from the medication?"

"Fine," you replied curtly. "No problems."

Gojo's gaze lingered on you for a moment. "And how's Suguru treating you? Is he taking good care of you?"

God, please have mercy on me, you thought, your cheeks burning even hotter. But before you could answer, Suguru quickly interjected, his voice firm. "Perhaps we should get started with the meeting."

Higurama gestured towards the empty chairs around the table. "Shall we sit down?"

You all took your seats, the tension in the room thick enough to cut with a scalpel. Higurama cleared his throat again, his gaze sweeping across the room. "I believe we all know why we're here today," he began, his tone professional and matter-of-fact.

"Actually, we don't," Gojo deadpanned. "Yaga didn't tell us anything."

Higurama looked like he wanted to crawl under the table and die. Same, you thought.

"There have been some... concerns raised regarding professional conduct within the university," Higurama finally managed to say.

Suguru and Gojo made a face in unison.

You reached into Mr. Higurama's briefcase, pulling out the stack of papers he'd entrusted you with. As you pulled them out, you couldn't help but notice the faint coffee stains marrying the edges. Your cheeks flushed even deeper.

But then your eyes landed on the content of the paper.

It wasn't a complex legal case or a malpractice lawsuit, as you had initially feared. Instead, you were faced with a series of brightly colored pamphlets titled “Maintaining Professional Boundaries”.

The pages were filled with cartoon illustrations and bullet points detailing appropriate conduct with students, patients and colleagues. There were even sections on how to avoid gossip in the workplace, with a handwritten note scrawled in the margin that basically said, "Don’t fuck with students, Gojo" in a slightly more professional way. Higurama's handwriting, for sure.

Suddenly, everything clicked into place. 

The girl Gojo always talked about, the one he was always going on and on about marrying—she was a student. He'd been sleeping with a student this whole time. Oh my god. How inappropriate. You could never imagine hooking up with one of your professors. 

But now that you think about it — someone in the glass house shouldn't throw stones, as they say.

Anyway, a wave of secondhand embarrassment washed over you as you placed the papers in front of the doctors. Even Higurama seemed to shrink in his seat. The silence in the room was deafening as Suguru and Gojo scanned the documents. You could practically hear crickets chirping.

Finally, Higurama cleared his throat, attempting to regain control of the situation. “As I was saying,” he began, his voice strained, “we all know why we’re here today.”

All eyes immediately snapped to Gojo. “Oh, come on. Don’t look at me like that,” he said. Suguru let out a long-suffering sigh, rubbing his temples. Then, Gojo's gaze fell upon the stack of papers in front of him. "Besides, why is there coffee on those documents?"

Every head in the room swiveled towards you. 

You quickly looked away.

The rest of the meeting was, to put it mildly, awkward as hell. Higurama tried his best to maintain a professional facade as he soldiered on with the presentation, highlighting the importance of maintaining professional boundaries. 

You couldn't help but squirm in your seat as he droned on about appropriate conduct and the dangers of crossing the line. With every mention of "patient confidentiality" and "avoiding dual relationships," your mind flashed back to that night at the bar. 

Suguru's hands on your waist, his lips on yours. You were sure your face was burning a bright shade of crimson. You risked a glance at Suguru, but he was staring intently at the table, his expression carefully blank.

Gojo tried to lighten the mood with a few well-timed jokes, but you guessed he was uneasy, too. You noticed him scratching his arm from time to time, a nervous tic you'd never seen before. Suguru, on the other hand, remained stoic, his gaze fixed on the presentation materials, though you could sense his discomfort.

You couldn't help but wonder what Suguru was thinking. Was he regretting that night at the bar as much as you were starting to? Did he see you differently now?

Finally, the meeting mercifully ended. 

Gojo stood up. "Higurama, can we talk for a second?" Higurama sighed, but reluctantly followed him out of the room, leaving you alone with Suguru.

A tense silence descended upon the room. You avoided Suguru's gaze, focusing instead on the white walls. But you could feel his eyes on you, burning into your skin.

“How’s your head?” he asked.

“Fine.”

“Did you ice it?” he pressed.

“Yes.”

Silence returned.

It felt like the air itself was holding its breath, waiting for something to happen. Unable to bear the stillness any longer, you stood up, clutching your bag tightly. "Well, I should probably get going."

"Wait," Suguru's voice stopped you mid-escape. "About the other night. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have taken things so far."

You turned back to face him. "No, it's okay. It was... nice." Nice? Did you really just describe the hottest makeout session of your life as 'nice'? What were you, a Victorian maiden?

"Nice?" he echoed, one eyebrow raised in that infuriatingly attractive way of his.

"I mean... It was good. Really good," you clarified, somehow making it even worse. "You're a great kisser and..." you trailed off, wanting to crawl under the table and die.

Deciding discretion was the better part of valor, you tried to make another break for it, only to be halted by Suguru's hand wrapping around your wrist. His grip was gentle but firm, sending sparks shooting up your arm.

You spun back around to find him towering over you. Damn him for being so tall. And for looking so good in his dress shirt and vest and tie under that crisp white doctor's coat. It wasn't fair.

"I'm sorry I couldn't make you come before we were interrupted," he said, sounding so genuinely apologetic you almost laughed. Almost. If this whole situation wasn't so mortifyingly awkward.

"Oh my god, please don't say that."

"I just want you to know, I don't usually do things like that."

"Like what? Not make women come? Wow, what a gentleman."

"No, I meant—" He sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. "I'm not really one for hookups in general."

Oh god, why are you having this conversation now, here, with Higurama and Dr. Gojo just outside? "Okay, cool. Thanks for letting me know." You tried once again to subtly tug your wrist from his grip.

But Suguru held fast, his thumb rubbing absently over your racing pulse. "I don't regret it, if that's what you're worried about. I liked it. Spending time with you. A lot.”

You stared at him, your heart suddenly pounding in your chest. He likes spending time with you? What did that even mean?

"Uh," you began. "You don't?"

"No, I don't." His grip on your wrist loosened slightly, but he didn't let go. "I was just surprised. It felt... good."

Good? You blinked. Good? What did ‘good’ in this context even mean? But then again, it had felt pretty damn good.

"And you're a great kisser too," he mirrored your words.

"Thanks." Thanks? Did you really just say thanks? And then, because your brain apparently decided to abandon all sense of self-preservation, you blurted out, "And you have great fingers."

Your face erupted in a fiery blush, and you wished you could disappear into the floor. My God, why couldn't you just shut up for once in your life?

Suguru's lips twitched into a smirk. "Thanks," he said, his voice laced with amusement. "We should do it again sometime."

"Yeah, totally." The words tumbled out before you could stop them. You swallowed, your throat suddenly dry as the desert. Play it cool, play it cool. "I think we would be quite good together. At sex, I mean. Wait, no—" You stumbled over your words, your hands flailing helplessly as you tried to backpedal.

"I meant the sports bar," Suguru clarified, barely containing his amusement.

"Oh yeah, me too," you said quickly, too quickly. "The sports bar. Where we... watch sports. And drink beer—"

Then the door creaked open and Higurama stepped back into the room. You both immediately moved apart. Higurama glanced at you. "Are you ready to go back to the office?"

You nodded.

Thank god it was over.

<- prev chapter | next chapter ->

author's note: hello again !! hope you didn't die bc of cringe this chapter, as our dear reader certainly brings a touch of chaotic energy to the story. and i want to express my gratitude for all the wonderful comments and messages you've been leaving. they never fail to brighten my day. & thank you again tasha for helping me out with this chapter. check out her work here. <3

don't have much else to add at this point, so whether you're reading this in the middle of the day or late at night, i wish you all the best. thank you for your continued support and love :)

pls comment on the masterlist for the taglist. or consider subscribing to the story on AO3, if you'd like to stay updated on future chapters.

🏷️ @ri-sa20 @biancaness @roseified @rixo-19 @madaqueue

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© lostfracturess. do not repost, translate, or modify my work.

[nanamin-nah-nanamine]

Y’all know I love a good poll lmao

In a little more detail I’m thinking maybe some moodboards for characters who will be apart of this story and maybe a few lil hard hitting quotes or paragraphs also including a title reveal so y’all can get a taste of what’s cookin👀

[peachsayshi]

Dreams

A/N: This is just a smutty Drabble of Gojo x Geto x Reader. Now that I wrote this, I need to throw some water on myself or something. Enjoy!  Based on a prompt from this list. 

TAGS: (18+, minors DNI) M/F/M- this is literally porn without plot

- - - - - 

This can’t really be happening, you thought, your face hot as you tried covering yourself with the bedsheet, averting your gaze from the eyes of the devilishly handsome man before you.

“None of that, sweetheart,” your boyfriend, Suguru teased, his fingers hovering overs yours as he gently pulled the sheet away to reveal your bare chest underneath. “I want to fulfill that fantasy you’ve always wanted.”

Your back was pressed against his clothed, muscular chest. The two of you indulging in a super heated make out session before you were interrupted by his best friend.

At first you were shocked seeing Gojo walking in on you grinding on your boyfriend but the tension in the room shifted when Suguru gave him a wicked smile before stating: “you’re late…”

Gojo was seated on the edge of the bed opposite you both, biting his bottom lip seductively. “He told me about the dream you had the other night and asked me if I could join you this evening…” Gojo explained, his voice unnervingly calm.

You exhaled, feeling Suguru’s big hands cup both your breasts, moving in slow circular motions as he massaged you. His fingers grazed over your erect nipples, brushing them over and over until you merely whimpered in response. You squeezed your thighs together, painfully aware of your increasing arousal when he touched you.

Your attention was fixated on Satoru, who reached for the sheet as he finally drew the rest of the fabric away from your body, revealing the only thing you were wearing which was a pair of high cut, cotton black panties.

“Are you okay with this?” Suguru whispered in your ear, rolling your nipples between the pads of his fingers as he noticed you breathing heavy.

You couldn’t even speak but you found yourself nodding your head yes, not wanting to stop anything that was about to happen next.

“You tell me all the time how fucking beautiful she is…but your words do her no justice…” Gojo complimented as he settled his long body in front of you.

His fingers tugged your panties to the side, your glittering slick painting your lips, as he bit down on his own to hold back a groan at the sight of your pussy.

Suguru pinched you between his fingers, exhaling against your neck as he peppered you with teasing kisses.

“Don’t worry, gorgeous,” he spoke in your ear. “The man is good with his tongue…he’s the only other person I would be willing to let take care of my precious girl…”

“You would know, wouldn’t you?” Satoru teased, removing his shades as his eyes flickered to his best friend where he gave him a small wink.

You stiffened against your boyfriend, watching Suguru’s attention linger on Gojo at that question. You turned to face him, your expression curious but your boyfriend merely moved one of his hands to circle your neck.

“A story for another time…” he whispered, as he brought his lips down to meet yours.

He parted your lips with his tongue, flicking it against your own as he slowly stroked his fingers along your neck. His other hand leaving your breast as he guided it down your stomach, reaching for your inner thigh and holding yourself open for Satoru to dive right in.

You mewled into Suguru’s mouth, a wave of shock running up your spine as Satoru licked you with one, long stroke.

Geto swallowed your cries, holding your mouth in his as he felt his erection pressing into your back. Meanwhile, Gojo was pushing his other hand against your thigh, splitting you wide open as his tongue lapped up your drenched cunt.

“Mmm, is she always this wet?”

Suguru broke away from his kiss, staring at you with dark, onyx eyes. “Answer him…”

Your heart was racing, pounding into your chest as you found yourself digging your fingers into Suguru’s thighs. You shifted your attention to the bright blue eyes of your boyfriend’s best friend, before replying: “y-yes…”

“I plan on savoring every last drop of you, angel,” Gojo teased, guiding his tongue between your lips as he hummed. “Your pussy tastes so sweet…”

“The sweetest…” your boyfriend added on, noticing you arch your back into him as Satoru began tongue fucking you.

Your moans echoed throughout the room; Suguru was right, Gojo Satoru was an expert when it came to his tongue and he had you whimpering desperately for a release within minutes.

Meanwhile, your boyfriend was whispering sweet nothings in your ear, praising you for being his best girl as he watched his best friend eat you out. Your body was extremely sensitive to his touches, from his hands groping your breasts to his knuckles sliding up and down your obliques.

When he wasn’t speaking to you, he was kissing you, interrupting your pleas whenever Gojo brought you to the edge. The two of them doing nothing but playing a mean, torturous game.

It wasn’t long before you found your release, bucking your hips into Satoru as you tried to lift away from Suguru at the same time. Your orgasm left you limp against your boyfriend’s body, your muscles twitching as you gasped to try and catch your breath.

You wondered how you wound up here, between two of the most beautiful men you have ever laid your eyes on. You wanted someone to pinch you and wake you up from this steamy dream but when you felt Suguru squeeze your sides, you knew that this was a reality.

Satoru grinned, your essence coating his smile as he looked at you in awe. He brought his hand underneath your chin, swiping your bottom lip with his thumb, “you’re eager to please him, I like that…”

“She’s learned to be obedient. You’re going to have just as much fun with her as I am.”

“Oh, I can tell…” Satoru answered, his hands moving to palm his hard cock that was pressing into his dark jeans. He slowly began undoing his belt, flashing Suguru an evil smile as he began unzipping his pants.

“It’s going to be a long night, sweetheart…” Suguru murmured seductively. “You think you can handle the two of us?”

You swallowed hard, your mouth going dry at the sight of Gojo pulling out his dick, stroking it a few times as his thumb played with the tip.

“Yes...” you answered breathlessly, as he brushed his cock against your lips.

Suguru laughed, his chest rumbling into your back as he watched you take in every inch of Satoru’s length.

“That’s my girl…” he commended, snaking his fingers between your legs as he slowly circled your swollen clit, the sound of Satoru sighing with relief like music to his ears as you proceeded to pleasure him.