#no curses AU

[azuramarigold]

Underground Dealings

You were a typical office worker that one day gets fired at your job at a smaller office ran by Naoya Zen'in, but your friend, Yuji Itadori, who works at a small coffee shop that you discovered a year ago on your way to work, suggests that you apply to his uncle's company. What you didn't realize was that your assets were going to be important to the company in every department, and that every head, from the CEO to legal has their own underground dealings on what keeps the company afloat.

Characters: officeworker!reader x CEO!Sukuna, officeworker!reader x businessassociate!Gojo, officeworker!reader x salaryman!Nanami; other pairings to be added

Other characters: Yuji Itadori, Megumi Fushiguro, Nobara Kugisaki, Naoya Zen'in, Maki Zen'in, Mai Zen'in, Uraume; other characters to be added.

Genre: modern au, eventual smut, 18+, angst, violence, gore

WARNINGS: (eventual) smut, blood, violence, gore, using weapons, death, drug use, smoking, alcohol use, cussing.

Divider/Navigation made by: saradika

Ko-Fi Commissions AO3 Profile

Prev.

Ch. 1 - Word Count: ~3.8k

Chapter 1: The Interview

The next day it was raining, and there was no point in getting up when your alarm indicated as now you didn’t have a job anymore.

            There was also no point in going to the coffee shop either as it was on your way to the office. Again, you no longer worked over there. Lying in bed, wrapped in dark cotton sheets as rain spattered against your windows was almost relaxing, but at the same time a sense of dread enveloped you.

            If you didn’t find a job soon, you’d get behind on rent. How will groceries get paid? Not to mention that student loans were still there and knocking at the door of your checking account every month. The reality was starting to set in, and your hands gripped the sheets tightly.

            Your phone began to ring, causing you to sit upright in a panic, your heart racing. Frantically, you look for your phone that you forgot was somewhere in your bed. You managed to find it just before it went to voicemail.

            “H-Hello…!?” you answered the phone breathlessly, not even bothering to see who it was.

            “Is this Y/N L/N?” It was the same gravelly voice from the night before.

            You cleared your throat. “Um, yes, this is she…” you replied, trying to sound professional.

            “Is this a cellphone that you’re calling from?” the man inquired.

            “Yes.”

            “I’m going to text you the address of Ryōmen Enterprises so that you can come for a face-to-face interview today at four.”

            You blinked in surprise.

            “Is that going to be a problem, sweetheart…?” a teasing tone pressed on the other line. “The brat made it seem like you really needed-”

            “Yes! I’ll be there!” you nearly shouted into the phone. “Please text me the address!”

            A rumble of a chuckle. “Alright. Please dress professionally and bring a copy of your resume then. It’ll be a pleasure to meet you.”

            Click.

            You threw your phone back onto your bed and made your way to the bathroom, a need to get ready for this interview. Turning on the water and showerhead and preparing one of your nicer shampoos and soaps that you’d normally use on a date, but this was important!

            Throughout the night Yuji had texted you a bit about his uncle, which was odd to you as he never talked about his family except for his late grandfather. Yuji had mentioned that his uncle for years was striking deals left and right, making extra money wherever he could until in the last two years he founded his company. He even mentioned that his uncle had paid for his private high school education after his grandfather had passed and is paying for his college, but only if he did some intern work once in awhile at the office and earned some of his own way with the coffee shop.

            You tried to ask for a picture of his uncle, just to see what he looked like. All Yuji replied with was, “You’ll know it’s him when you see him… trust me.”

            In the shower you scrubbed yourself clean, making sure there was nothing out of place. Scrubbing your hair and putting in the right amount of the conditioning mask you enjoy so much. Exfoliating your skin was necessary and shaving was part of your routine as the mask deeply conditioned your hair.

            Once you were all set and rinsed, you wrapped a towel around your hair and body and made your way back to your room. The closet was organized a certain way, the left half being your business attire while the right half was your casual wear. You decided on a nice black pencil skirt and dark pastel purple blouse, you have heard comments that the blouse brought out the color of your eyes very well and the skirt curved against your hips nicely.

            Getting ready was almost nerve-wracking. What if you didn’t land this job…? Where else could you go…? Maybe the coffee shop was a good option after all…

            The final outfit was a wonderful touch of professionalism. The pencil skirt was slightly above your knees, but you were wearing sheer tights, so you didn’t show much skin. Around your neck to accent your blouse was a dandelion-colored scarf, tied into the furoshiki style. A pair of black pumps would look excellent you decided as you looked over yourself in the mirror.

            Makeup has always been simple for you, light foundation with a hint of blush. Eyeshadow to match the blouse, the wonderful pastel purple, and the black eyeliner and mascara really made your eyes pop. Pink lipstick is what you went with, subtle and innocent, as you can’t be too bold like with red.

            You put your hair up in a nice, tight bun, letting the loose hairs frame your face in subtle curls. A touch of perfume on the nape of your neck, very light as it was Eau Fraiche to not trigger a migraine, with the subtle jasmine and cedar fragrance.

            By the time it was two, you were all ready to go. You decided to make your way out the door as you did rely on public transportation to get to where you needed to go for the most part. Taking the train to the business district of Tokyo was easy this time of day as many people were starting to get off work and be on their way home, so it was no issue finding a train and seat.

            As you looked at the address, you realized that the office was actually down the street from the coffee shop that Yuji and the others worked at. Which meant if you got the job, you could still visit them. It warmed your heart that you could still see them.

            As the train stopped at the station and you got onto the platform, you realized it was barely three, so you decided that with the extra time you had you would visit the shop. They did close at four as you knew that Megumi and Nobara had to get home, Yuji never specified where he went, but now you assumed it was to work a couple of hours as an intern at his uncle’s company.

            The bell chimed as you entered the coffee shop, Megumi wiping down tables as Nobara manned the counter. Both looked up and saw you and gave smiles.

            “OH MY GOSH!” Nobara squealed as she vaulted over the counter. “YOU LOOK AMAZING! YOU ARE GOING TO GET THE JOB ON THIS ALONE!”

            Megumi grimaced at the loudness of Nobara’s voice. “Hey, she still needs to do a proper interview… it’s not about looks…” he reminded her.

            You gave a sigh, “Yeah, and I’m totally nervous… I think I only got the job with your cousin because he kept staring at my chest for too long and forgot what it was even about…”

            Megumi gave a frown. “That asshole…” he grumbled.

            You looked around, noticing that you did not hear or see Yuji. “Hey, where’s Yuji at?” you asked.

            “At his uncle’s office building, it’s just down the street from here,” Nobara replied, crossing her arms. “He leaves around 2:30pm to go intern there for a few hours.”

            Your guess was correct. “What is his major in college anyways…?” you then asked. During the year you visited the coffee shop you had never asked, which made you feel a tad bit guilty. Yuji always asked you so many questions, as did Nobara, and even Megumi asked a question here and there, but you never asked them any.

            “Business,” both Megumi and Nobara replied in unison.

            “He’s got a scholarship at a decent university for athletics,” Megumi then added. “But he’s majoring in business to properly take over the coffee shop here and possibly franchise it.”

            “Oh, that’s nice,” you hummed. You had no idea about that with Yuji. The young man had such a bubbly personality that you never thought he’d be a business major in college. You then gave a smile. “Well, if I get this job, I can still come for my coffee…! Speaking of…”

            “GOT IT!” Nobara shouted as she vaulted over the counter once again.

            Megumi frowned. “You and Yuji need to stop doing that… you two are going to end up crashing into something one day…” he groaned in annoyance.

            “You’re just jealous that you don’t look cool doing it!” Nobara bragged, sticking her tongue out at him. Withing minutes she got your usual coffee order ready. “And it’s done, Y/N! Feel free to tip me for my awesome service!”

            You gave a laugh as you paid for the coffee and once again gave a decent tip. “Of course, Nobara, I wouldn’t dream of not giving you a tip,” you assured her.

            “My tip would be to stop vaulting over the damn counter…!” Megumi told you both.

            You checked your watch, realizing it was half an hour before your interview. You gave the two your goodbyes and made your way out of the shop. Sipping on your coffee as you walked down the street, already seeing a tall, glass building that was beginning to loom before you. The sign outside the building indicated that it was “Ryōmen Enterprises”, so you knew it was the right place.

            You took a deep breath, calming your nerves, and made your way inside, your pumps clicking against the polished floors. Inside there was a nice, muted gray, chairs and couches around the main floor for people to relax in before meetings or to meet with someone. The reception desk was directly ahead of the entrance, and you made your way there quickly.

            The person behind the desk was clicking on her keyboard, her hair long and dark brown. She wore a simple dark green turtleneck blouse with a white long sleeve sweater, her nails a nice teal in color. Her eyes, a nice brown oak, darted to you as she finished what she was doing.

            “Hello, how can I help you?” she then asked. You noted that there were bags under her eyes, and she had a small beauty mark on her right eye.

            “Hello, my name is Y/N L/N, I have an interview at-” you began but she interrupted you by picking up her phone.

            “Hey, Uraume?” the woman spoke. “Yeah, this is Shoko… that interview you mentioned is here.” A pause. “Yeah, I know she’s early…” Another pause and Shoko winced at a sudden bark on the other side of the line. “Yeah, I’ll send her up.” She hung up the phone.

            “Uh…” you tentatively murmured. “Is it bad that I’m early…?” you asked softly.

            “Not at all, hun,” Shoko replied as she prepared a guest badge. “Take this to the elevator and scan it to access the top floor.”

            You took the guest badge. “Thank you…” You walked to the elevator and pressed the button and waited for it to arrive.

            While waiting, someone stepped up beside you and you glanced over to see the most gorgeous blue eyes you have ever seen behind black sunglasses perched at the end of his nose. He was tall, clearly over six feet, with tousled snow-white hair. His tailored suit fitted him well, a black with light gray stripes and black dress shirt, a white tie to match his hair.

            “Would you like a picture?” the man asked teasingly with a grin. “They do last longer.” He then adjusted his glasses to cover his eyes, although he did peer over them to give you a glance over.

            “GAH!” you nearly yelped, nearly death gripping your coffee cup.

            “Although, if you get a picture of me, I would love one of you too,” he then added with a smirk.

            The elevator dinged and you entered, quickly scanning your badge, your heart sinking as you realized that the white-haired man entered with you. Now you two were stuck in an enclosed space together after that exchange.

            “Are you here for an internship…? Interview…?” the man then pressed. He scanned his own badge as well, but you couldn’t see what his name was on it.

            “I-Interview…” you stammered in reply.

            The man beamed. “Oh…? Nice! For what department?” he then inquired, clearly interested.

            Your eyes widened. “Um… I don’t know…?”

            “Huh…? What do you mean you don’t know?”

            “All I know is that I’m meeting Mr. Ryōmen for the interview.”

            The white-haired man sucked in air through his teeth. “WOW! The big boss huh? Damn!” he laughed.

            That certainly wasn’t helping your nerves.

            “What’s your name, sweets?” he then asked. “I’m Satoru Gojo, I’m the head of marketing here.”

            “I’m Y/N L/N,” you then introduced.

            “Hey, don’t be nervous, the man is all bark and no bite!” Gojo assured. “Well… at least to the employees here. He does bite I hear.” He then gave a teasing chuckle.

            “Eh…!?” you nearly shrieked.

            The elevator dinged on a floor and the doors opened, signaling for Gojo to exit. “See ya around, sweets, hopefully you get the job!” he shouted over his shoulder to you with a wave. “I’d love to give you a tour of the building!”

            You couldn’t reply as the doors closed and continued to ascend. With each second, you became much more nervous. The elevator dinged at the final floor, and you exited it, only to be greeted by a familiar pink-haired boy.

            “Hey! You made it, Y/N!” Yuji’s voice excitedly said. He was no longer in his coffee shop uniform but in his own tailored suit, a dark gray with a dark gray waistcoat, white dress shirt, and wearing an orange tie neatly tied around his neck. His pink hair was still messy and spikey as ever, although it did look like he tried to comb it through once or twice.

            “Yuji!” you beamed. “Why didn’t you ever mention you interned here?”

            Yuji nervously chuckled. “Eh, my personal life isn’t very exciting…” he joked. “Here, let me get you to Uraume so you can check in.” He grabbed your hand and dragged you away from the elevator.

            It seemed the entire floor was a penthouse office space, where there were a few desks, one that Yuji sat at for his intern work, and the other sat someone with a white bob haircut and wore a nice navy-blue pantsuit. In the back was a main inner office, the placard reading “S. Ryōmen”.

As you and Yuji approached the secretary’s desk, they were just hanging up the phone. Their plum-colored eyes saw you coming and they stood up from their desk to walk around.

            “Hello, Miss Y/N,” they greeted, their voice sounding monotone. “I’m Uraume, Mr. Ryomen’s secretary. I’ll let him know that you’re here.”

            You gave a look of confusion. This person was not who you talked to yesterday or today.

            Yuji noticed your face. “You okay?” he asked gently.

            “Uh… yeah,” you lied. “Just nervous.”

            Yuji gave a smile. “You’ll do great! I already hyped you up and everything!” he informed.

            “You… what!?” you nearly shrieked at him. “Hype me up!? What does that even mean!?” You began to shake his shoulders frantically, trying to shake the answers from him.

            Yuji’s eyes were practically rolling, but he still tried to speak. “A-All I did was t-tell him you were fired b-by Naoya Zen’in and that you were a g-good worker…!”

            Uraume returned, a white brow raised. “Mr. Itadori, what did you do to anger the young lady…?” they asked him.

            “I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING BAD!” Yuji shouted once you let him go.

            Uraume only sighed in irritation. “Anyways, he is ready to meet you now,” they informed you. They then glared at Yuji. “And Mr. Itadori, may I remind you that you’re supposed to be entering data…?”

            “I got bored…” he then whined.

            “Do it brat, if you know what’s good for ya!” a voice barked from the inner main office. Even with the door closed, you could hear how powerful it was.

            What you now also realized was that it was the same voice you spoke with the night before and earlier that day. Your face immediately went red.

            You must’ve sounded like an idiot on the phone.

            “Yeah, fine, fine…!” Yuji shouted back. “My friend is here, so you be nice to her!” He patted your shoulder. “Good luck, Y/N. He’s not always that loud… He just likes to yell at me. Or Gojo.”

            Uraume led you to the door and knocked on it, a low “enter” rumbled in reply. The secretary opened the door and gave a small bow in greeting.

            “Mr. Ryōmen, here is Miss L/N for the interview,” Uraume informed. “Please let me know if you need anything else.” They promptly shoved you in and shut the door behind you.

            When Yuji said that you’d know his uncle when you saw him, he wasn’t kidding. The man had the same pink hair, sharp jawline and nose shape. The main difference was that the man before you had intricate face tattoos decorating his face and his eyes were sharp and fierce; instead of a warm honey-brown in color, they looked like they were brown mixed with red, an odd dark dried blood color with more on the red side. He was also larger in stature, much broader shouldered and muscular, his body filling every part of his expensive black suit perfectly.

            “You may have a seat,” Mr. Ryōmen instructed, gesturing to the seat in front of his desk.

            You obey instinctively, like a small animal in front of a hunter. You set your resume on the desk in front of you for him to look through and you politely put your hands in your lap.

            “You’re friends with the brat, eh?” the man grumbled as he adjusted his blood red tie he was wearing. “I don’t think I recognize you from when he went to high school… Or are you a friend from one of his college classes from last semester?”

            “Oh, I met him through the coffee shop,” you replied honestly. “I just happened to stumble across it when walking to my old job.”

            “Hmm,” he hummed in response. “The Zen’in’s small office, right? Ran by Naoya Zen’in?” Mr. Ryōmen then grabbed your resume and began to flip through it.

            “Yes sir, I was Mr. Zen’in’s personal assistant,” you informed.

            “And may I ask why you were fired?”

            “Um… well…” You began to nervously wring your hands together. “I’m going to say this… Mr. Zen’in was not very professional. He constantly tries to get with every female worker he has, and on more than one occasion he has tried to make a pass at me.”

            Mr. Ryōmen raised a brow. “So, he fired you because you wouldn’t fuck him?” he guessed quite crudely. “Wow, that’s petty… Then again that’s the only way he could get women to sleep with him. Money and intimidation.”

            “And I threw my coffee in his face…” you then admitted shyly.

            A ghost of a smirk flashed on his lips. “Wow, no wonder why a weird blacklist email came in my inbox last night,” he said. “I honestly would’ve done worse.” He tossed your resume on the desk. “Alright, you’re hired.”

            “Huh…?” you dumbly said.

            “Do I need to repeat myself?” the man sternly asked. “I said, ‘you’re hired’. You want it in morse code too?” He began to tap his desk in an odd sequence. “Honestly I have no idea what code that could be, for all I know that could be me saying I stole your penguin or something…”

            You tilted your head in confusion. “But… you didn’t ask me typical interview questions…?” you prompted. “Like about my work ethic, or why I would want to work here…?”

            “I don’t do interviews,” he admitted with a shrug. “Usually Nanami in finance does it, but I wanted to do this one myself since the brat was eager.”

            You still looked at him in confusion.

            “And I’m not gonna lie,” Mr. Ryōmen said with a sigh as he straightened in his chair, placing his hands in front of him on his desk; you noticed he had tattoos on them as well. “I just want you in my company to rub it in that asshole’s face. I ended up not doing that deal with them as well after what the brat said.”

            You knew that it was going to cost Zen’in big. Ryōmen Enterprises was sweeping the market in businesses and restaurants alike. You heard that the CEO was a smooth talker and could strike deals like it was talking about what color to paint walls over a Sunday brunch.

            “So, what department would I be in?” you then inquired.

            “I’ll have you as my personal assistant,” he then said. “Uraume takes care of certain paperwork as my secretary and arranges business meetings within the company, but I would need someone to help with outside the company, and you seem to be good at it.” He picked up your resume. “From what I glanced over, you were actually the contact with Zen’in for the deal.”

            “Yes, I was.”

            “So, you have a knack for arranging things and eye on good partnerships.”

            “I’m flattered you think so.”

            “You can also help me with running around between the departments, making sure things are running smoothly,” Mr. Ryōmen added. “I usually have the brat check up on things, but since he has the coffee shop and will be going back to school soon, his time will be limited.”

            You nodded in understanding. “Okay, I can do that,” you assured him. It didn’t sound too different to what Naoya had you do.

            A smirk crossed the man’s face. “Alright, you can start tomorrow, I’ll have the company attorney draft a contract with everything and in the morning, you can go over it and make sure it’s to your liking. We can add or remove things as well,” he then said.

            You blinked. “Oh, okay…” you replied in surprise.

            “And about your salary, don’t worry about it,” Mr. Ryōmen assured as he leaned back in his chair. “It’ll be on par if not more than what you did at Zen’in’s.” He then leaned back forward and scribbled a number on a sticky note and passed it to you.

            Your eyes practically bugged out of your head. “I-I’m sorry… is this a monthly salary…?” you asked him.

            Mr. Ryomen looked at you in confusion. “Um… no, sweetheart, that would be your biweekly salary…”

            “Oh…” you squeaked. It was nearly double your monthly what you were making when you were working for Naoya.

            “Is that a problem…?” he asked seriously. “Too little to what you’re used to…?”

            “No!” you blurted out loudly. “This is more than generous! I accept the position!”            

A wolf-like smile appeared on your new boss’s lips. “Well, welcome aboard to Ryōmen Enterprises, Y/N, I’m sure you’ll make a lovely addition.”

Special thanks to my Ko-fi supporters!

Basic Tier

Aostrele

Draconic Hermit

JadEDU

Jaune Arc

Zippy

Middle Tier

@genderfluidsgetguns AKA IdoInFactLikeDogs

[megoomies-art]

[lilacxquartz]

CHASING HUMANITY • kenjaku x fem!reader

ao3 • masterlist • << previous chapter • next chapter >>

summary: after witnessing a murder, you try to avoid becoming the next victim.

a/n: i’m doing a thing where each chapter is their own pov and the story progresses that way, hopefully this gives a good insight into both of their characters :)

trigger warning: referenced abuse

Chapter 2. Second Chances

You often took walks late at night.

Usually it was to escape from your personal life and at other times, it was because you simply wanted to be alone.

Your small town was a rather quaint one and it was uneventful enough that you were never that worried about your safety, even if you were out a little too late at night.

That was until you saw something that you shouldn’t have.

You had been walking for about an hour by that point, weaving through both the streets and the trees alike guided by the light of your phone at times. It didn’t take too long for you to reach the underpass just outside of town; a place that you sometimes liked to go.

At first, your mind didn’t fully register it.

You saw something happening, yes, but you didn’t fully comprehend it at first. A looming figure that was defined by nothing more but a sharp silhouette against low lighting and what appeared to be a person suspended over the bridge, tied up, limp and quite possibly dead.

No, not quite possibly…

…They were very much dead.

Your eyes focused on the scene as you watched from the sidelines of the forest, your cover still hidden. You were close enough to see that the tied up corpse was still dripping blood out of their body, recognising the faint smell of copper wafting in the cool air.

It didn’t take you too long to figure it all out.

On your walk, you had managed to witness a murder.

Pausing in your tracks, you attempted to take a step back to evade the same fate but it was all far too late as your presence didn’t seem to go unnoticed. Whether it was your heavy breathing that gave it away or the rolling crunch of the gravel that scratched the road; you were in trouble.

Quickly concealed by the surrounding shrubbery, you attempted to hide yourself which to your worry—had also failed you—as the approaching presumed murderer was now walking right towards you.

Without a second thought, you broke off into a frenzied sprint towards the forest hoping that the darkness would help conceal you, pushing yourself through the scattered trees. You weaved through the woods; grazing your arms on protruding branches that caught onto your arms as you ran, your breathing coming out in short bursts of shuddering, ragged gasps.

Your heartbeat drummed loudly in your ears and the wind felt harsh against your face, roaring whooshing static past your ears. The chase seemed to be inevitably closing in on you however, as the rapid footsteps of the perpetrator soon matched your frantic pace. Twigs and rustling leaves alike kept giving away your position—the sound of your own escape betraying you—your chest feeling sore as your ribs casted painful stitches and yet, you couldn’t take a break at all.

The reality was harsh and clear:

You were being hunted.

You swivelled your neck ever so briefly for just a split moment to see what was going on behind you, but you couldn’t even make sense of what you were looking for. The person behind you blurred into the background, the shadows concealing them quite well but also, at the same time, you could feel their breath on your neck.

(They were so close to catching up—so close, too damn close—!)

And then, without even anticipating it, your ankle twisted from the slightest incline over the uneven terrain, causing you to propel yourself forward in a stumbling fall. You grunted as your stomach tanked the hit; your body bristling against the crunching foliage.

You couldn’t stop now though, at least not yet.

Not when this could have potentially meant that you could join a similar fate.

You tried again and again to get up, to claw your way forward, kicking your knees in attempt to shoot yourself upright once again and yet—just as you were about to zoom away—a hand grasped tight around your wrist and reeled you in close against the clutches of death itself.

It was too late.

You were finally caught.

The person held you tight in their grasp, capturing your body on a struggling embrace with strong arms coiling around your torso, as though enjoying the sensation of you squirming around in their reach.

A male voice then spoke up with a playful yet dangerous tone, “Spying on me, were you?”

You shook your head, denying anything of the sort. “N-not at all, I was just passing by, I haven’t seen anyth—“

However he promptly cut you off, “—oh? I think that you’ve seen plenty.”

His touch became soothing as if he sought to calm you, to lull you into a false sense of comfort. Your breathing soon settled but your gut instinct played a warning in your mind, telling you to be wary of anything that could have possibly awaited you.

Unsure of where to go from here, you remained silent for the time being and so did he—and after a moment of nothing being said—he took it upon himself to walk you back towards the warming glow of the streetlights, the next destination unclear.

(Even if you had a clue.)

(Likely six feet under. Maybe even less.)

Albeit reluctantly, you walked towards the direction he pushed you while you couldn’t help but wonder what exactly you had accidentally caught yourself up in. You knew that screaming, kicking and crying would mean a faster death in order to quickly silence you. As a result, you were forced to face your upcoming appointment with the end, painfully aware of what awaited you.

Fighting back wasn’t an option either (at least not with the strength this man demonstrated).

“You’re going to kill me, aren’t you?” you asked, unsure as to why you entertained asking such a thing. Hearing the confirmation wasn’t going to be easy and you knew it.

“My, aren’t you a smart one,” he praised tauntingly.

You nodded quietly in response, trying to accept that fact as you processed his words but you couldn’t quite do it. Something in your mind flipped a switch, though. Suddenly, you couldn’t help but find this situation… amusing?

Such horrid luck you had.

Your options weren’t looking good whether you lived or died; to either go back to an abusive partner or to die at the hands of a murderer wanting to keep things quiet.

Suddenly, you weren’t afraid anymore.

(It felt funny, in fact. You couldn’t help but humourlessly laugh in your head. What a cruel joke this whole thing was…!)

This did leave you bitterly wondering if he was just speeding up the inevitable for you instead—and as you trekked through the terrain—you couldn’t help but wonder something else, too. It all seemed too coincidental, too perfectly set up, especially with the artistic display left behind at the underpass.

“Are you… that guy from the news?” you asked.

“Be more specific?” he returned the question, sounding almost a bit smug about it.

“That… travelling killer?” you elaborated as he led you towards a car, leaning forward as he slipped a manual key into the boot of what appeared to be an older model.

He hummed, seeming amused, “Why? Want my autograph?”

Flipping the trunk open, he pushed some tools back as he sat you down, finding you strangely compliant throughout the whole process. He reached towards the side to fetch a loose ball of rope before tightly binding both of your wrists together and then doing the same to your ankles.

“I don’t have evidence,” you blurted out, making him pause in the process of shutting the lid.

(What were you doing?)

“Correct—“ he nodded, interrupted by you cutting him off.

“—so I can’t talk, can I?”

“…because,” he ignored your attempt to persuade him, continuing with where he left off, “you’ll be dead.”

“Okay, but what if the police couldn’t believe me, no matter what I’d tell them?” you said, attempting to explain your circumstances.

(Did you really want to live that much?)

Pausing, he narrowed his gaze at you as he allowed his curiosity to get the better of him, unable to ignore such a claim, “…Why wouldn’t they?”

“I’m…” you began, trying to explain summarise your situation, “in a relationship with an officer and they never believe me because he’s good at…” you paused, sighing, “he’s good at… hiding his bullshit, I guess? So why would they believe me for anything else?”

(Oh. So that’s where all this persistence was taking you. You wanted out. You wanted revenge, even, at least eventually.)

The man silently nodded as he studied your face for any hint of a lie. Your features seemed to indicate that this confession was genuine.

“Still, they’ll probably investigate a claim of murder,” he dismissed, “you’re still a local and it’s your word against the strange shaman who’s new in town.”

“I wouldn’t go to the police at all,” you promised, “I-I hate them and…”

As you trailed off, he considered an idea in mind. Studying your features, his sights settled on a subtle bruise towards the side of your head, just barely concealing a bruise around your ear. It could have been the remnants of a smack, perhaps a day or two old.

“Oh?” he considered, his lips flicking briefly into a smile, “But how does this benefit me exactly?”

As you considered your next words, he gently leaned you towards your side to fit you better into the trunk. Maybe, at least right now, he wasn’t going to kill you just yet. You seemed like an interesting enough ‘case study’, after all.

It wasn’t everyday that he held a conversation that he didn’t hate or got bored of quickly with a victim either.

“I d-dunno,” you stammered, “I could be your cover? Your alibi? S-something like that? …I could help you?”

“But why would you do such a thing?” he asked, daring you to explain. You were just a regular civilian, so why were you showing interest in being his accomplice? If it was just a way out of getting killed, then that would make you unreliable.

“I want out,” you admitted with a firm tone, “I don’t want to live here anymore and I can’t leave my relationship, but you can change that for me, can’t you?”

“So you were out here because of a bad situation at home?” he asked, although the way he did so sounded more like a statement.

You nodded in response against the rough surface of the trunk, seeming hopeful but he didn’t seem to comment beyond that. Instead, he tucked your limbs further into the boot of the car and slammed the lid shut, leaving you to fester alone in the dark with all sorts of thoughts invading your mind.

You listened in as he walked himself over to the front of the car, sitting himself down at the driver’s side before securing the key into ignition. You wondered where you were going next, but weren’t too hopeful about your chances due to his seemingly linear way of thinking, likely taking you towards your early death, marked by a shallow grave.

This sort of dance did feel odd to you though, because why didn’t he just kill you on the spot and then dump your body somewhere else later?

Why did he need to drive you somewhere else while you were still alive?

Your mind deluded itself into thinking that it had a chance, prompting you to accept the fact that if you kept talking, if you kept trying to keep up with him, that you would live. No matter what it took.

The trip itself lasted a good hour or so before he slowed the car to park. With the twisted ground that the car rippled through, you understood it to be in the midst of a forest or somewhere rural enough and with the flash of a torch pointed right into your eyes, you squinted as he opened up the lid, taking one good long look at you.

“So…” you began, sounding annoyingly hopeful, “you’re definitely letting me live, right?”

The man couldn’t help but wearily sigh at your persistence. You were in the uttermost bleak sort of situation and yet you wouldn’t stop talking in such a way that implied that you were an exception from the looming danger just over the horizon. He slowly reached for a shovel next to you, keeping his eyes locked on yours while hinting at his true intentions while studying your reaction.

He then next crouched slightly, hoisting you over his body with his other arm before carrying you off into the woods.

He planted you into the ground and that’s when your hope began to slightly falter, your eyes squinting as you could hear the shovel dig into the dirt, seeing him move around just barely in the dim moonlight.

“So… no letting me live?” you asked.

“Too risky,” he continued to deny, grunting as the shovel scooped up dirt, “you’ve seen too much.”

“Do I look like the type of person to run my mouth?” you asked.

He paused and blinked at you before digging even faster without giving you a sure response. Somewhere mid dig, he paused his efforts and squeezed his eyes shut, as though trying to stifle a headache.

He then glanced at you while you laid there perfectly happy with an irritatingly hopeful smile on your face, unable to deny that he was at least a little curious.

What an odd victim you were.

Maybe too odd to let go to waste.

“You’re very strange,” he commented with a resigned sigh, dragging you over to the shallow grave and looking down right at you.

“Thank you,” you replied.

“Not exactly a compliment,” he murmured, kicking some dirt over you to gauge whether or not your reaction would be any different if he at least buried you somewhat alive.

“So… how about it?” you asked again, your tone of voice sounding still hopeful even if you didn’t feel the slightest bit similar.

His gaze slowly became contemplative as though he wasn’t he wasn’t entirely sure about you. You did seem inconspicuous enough to build his cover on, so perhaps you could benefit him as an ally indeed. Plus, you seemed to have some sort of personal tiff with the authorities, so that could work into his favour as well. It was very likely that you had just as much to lose as he did should you both be caught.

“I’ll let you live,” he crouched down, loosening the knots but just barely, “on one condition.”

“A way out with a catch?” you attempted to joke. “No way.”

“Are you hearing me out or not?” he sassed, flicking more dirt over you.

“Right, right, sorry,” you piped down, spitting the mud out.

He rolled his eyes as you backed off. “You’ll do as I say and give me cover as I need it. I’ll give you a role and you’ll be my co-star.”

You wowed at his words, “Fancy.”

(That was it for you. You didn’t care anymore. You were ready to stop living in fear of your partner turning your life into a living hell for you. You were ready to escape, to become someone new completely. You weren’t sure what did it exactly, but you sure as hell weren’t going to back away now.)

He nodded once more, finally loosening the knot and helping you up, finding it slightly amusing with how you crawled out of the grave with some struggle. “You’ll be wise to keep this sort of thing up if you want to keep your life.”

“Of course,” you said while trying to secure your grounding, the uneven terrain making your balance wobble a little.

“And now,” he announced as he took a hold of your wrist, leading you back, “you’ll join me on the road. Do as I say and you’ll have a chance, slip up and I’ll snap that pretty neck of yours on the spot.”

“We’re going on a road trip?” you asked, seeming excited to get out of this whole area.

He stared at you, his left eye twitching. “Sort of.”

You shrugged as you then got into the car, happily sliding into the passenger seat without a care in the world as if you weren’t almost buried alive from a killer on the run. He in turn, almost hesitantly got into the car with you, turning the keys and taking a deep breath as though to calm himself down.

In truth, he wasn’t sure if you should be more scared of him.

Or if he should be the one more scared of you.

[carnethyne]

no curses au

[inorganicone2230]

Like Hoarded Gold (Part 1) Yandere!Gojo/Geto x Fem!Reader

Part 2

Summary: Suguru Geto and Satoru Gojo are complete strangers to you, but when they unexpectedly learn of the tragic news that has irrevocably shattered your life to pieces, the two of them become determined to help you and make you happy again, whether you want them to or not.

Warnings: Not many for this chapter, just the guys being nosy creeps for now.

Side Note: I do NOT and never will condone the actions committed in this or any future chapters, please be mindful and respectful of the fact that all of this is purely fiction.

“Come on, babe.”

Satoru Gojo moaned shamelessly into the kiss he shared with his lifelong friend and romantic partner, Suguru Geto, as he pressed the dark haired man down into the gym mat of the darkened storeroom they had snuck into.

“You're so fucking needy.” 

Suguru playfully taunted him, even as he groaned and pawed at the other young man just as desperately, his hands finally finding purchase on Satoru’s hips so he could grind their still clothed and aching erections together.

They’d had a break between lectures and when Satoru had teasingly suggested that the two of them find a quiet spot for a quicky, he had been more than happy to agree, which was how they now found themselves in their current situation; namely, the two of them laid out on an old mat in the storeroom of the college gym, desperately dry-humping one another.

“You're not gonna sound so cocky once I’m balls-deep in your tight fucking ass.” Satoru shot back, nipping his neck hard enough that it was surely going to leave a very noticeable bruise, one he knew Suguru would wear with immense pride and satisfaction.

Suguru’s chuckle was deep and sensual as he reached between them to begin unbuckling his boyfriend's belt and pants, desperate to get his large hands wrapped around Satoru’s fat cock.

“Wanna bet on-”

The door to the storeroom suddenly creaked open and both men instantly froze as dim light from the previously empty gym briefly flooded the space before closing and going dark again.

“Shit!” Satoru whispered harshly into his ear, just loud enough so only he would hear it. “Did a professor or someone else follow us?”

It's not like the two of them had ever tried to hide their relationship from the public, such a thing would have been an impossible endeavor anyway, what with how affectionate and touchy Satoru could be most of the time. But even with their relationship being public knowledge, it still hadn't stopped the occasional creeper or fame-chaser from trying to catch them in compromising situations, usually to try and extort the white haired young man for a cut of his rather impressively large fortune and inheritance.

With the unexpected death of his parents only four years prior, and Satoru being their only child, he had been the sole beneficiary to the Gojo family's vast wealth and assets, and while he still had to graduate college first before he could receive the entirety of his inheritance in full, the monthly stipend he received every month to fund their lifestyle until then was certainly nothing to sneeze at.

But it also had the unfortunate drawback of painting a big red bullseye on his back, and subsequently Suguru’s as well, one that led some people to think that they would be an easy target for some quick cash if a compromising photo could be taken and dangled over their heads.

“Just stay quiet for now.” Suguru replied, then tenderly kissed Satoru's cheek with the kind of affection he knew would leave the Gojo heir blushing. “If they try anything, I'll be the one to handle it.”

And he meant it to, he had already beat the shit out of a few creeps for trying this kind of shit, and would be more than willing to do so again if it came down to it.

Satoru was his, and he would always have his back, just like he knew Satoru would always have his.

The two of them, thankfully, were tucked away in a corner of the storeroom behind some stacked boxes of equipment, so they would see anyone that came around the corner, but when no one came, the two of them slowly rose to their feet to take a peek around, wondering if maybe the individual actually hadn't stuck around and left when the door shut.

But there, leaning against the wall next to the door was a young girl, one who both men briefly recognized as a first year, more specifically, she was a foreign exchange student who they just so happened to share one or two classes with this semester.

You had your phone drawn up to your ear and seemed to be calling the same number repeatedly as your expression grew more and more frantic every time the person(s) on the other end failed to pick up.

“The fuck?” Satoru silently mouthed as they looked at one another, confusion written all over each other's faces, but Suguru was just as lost as his partner and only shook his head at him.

He now suspected that you had no idea you weren't alone in here, which meant that you weren't a threat, so his posture had relaxed once more, but now he was also fairly curious as to what had brought you here, and who you were so desperately trying to get ahold of.

And based on the noticeable gleam in Satoru's bright blue eyes, Suguru knew he was also just as curious.

And then, as if their nosiness had triggered something on the other end of your phone, they suddenly heard your voice speak, your tone sounding both relieved and panicked as words, in what they were able to tell was English, began tumbling out of your mouth in fast succession.

The only problem however, was that neither of them knew enough of the language to be able to piece full sentences together.

“Oh come on!” Satoru quietly groaned in exasperation.

He knew enough to be able to pick out a few words here and there; words like ‘no’ and ‘please’ and ‘wait’, which you seemed to be repeating quite often as your voice grew more and more panicked, but eventually, whoever was on the other end must have abruptly ended the call, because you stopped talking as the phone slowly slid from your slackened grip and fell to the floor with a loud enough crash that he knew without even seeing it that the damn things screen was likely shattered to bits from the impact with the concrete flooring.

You looked so sad and heartbroken in that moment, and before either man knew what was happening, you dropped to your knees with a sickening thud that left both of them wincing. Your knees were most definitely going to be in a world of hurt once you finally managed to pull yourself out of whatever dark hole that conversation had thrown you into.

And then came the wailing…

The sounds that came pouring out of you were absolutely gut wrenching, and despite not knowing anything about you, not even your name, it took everything Satoru and Suguru had to stop themselves from going to you and demanding what it was that had caused this.

You had your arms wrapped so tightly around yourself, like you would fall to pieces if you weren't holding yourself together in that lonely embrace, and you were sobbing so hard that they both feared you might actually make yourself sick if you didn't get your breathing under control.

“What do you think we should do?” Suguru whispered.

Satoru didn't once take his eyes off you as he shook his head in uncertainty.

“I honestly don't know.” He answered. “We would probably just make things worse if we suddenly pop out and she learns we've been here this whole time.”

Suguru had to agree, and as much as it killed him to stand back and let your trauma unfold like this, he knew that Satoru was right.

Neither of them completely understood why they had this unexplainable urge to go to you, someone who was a complete and total stranger, but it was a matter they were going to have to ponder together and discuss at great length before making any solid decisions on.

But for now, they simply had to let the situation run its natural course and hope for the best, even if waiting and patience was never either of their strong suits.

And so they did.

They waited for almost thirty minutes, watching and listening to the sound of your very soul shattering as you cried yourself into exhaustion before you eventually managed to pick yourself back up off the floor and slowly and silently exit the storage space. Neither of them failed to notice the dead expression on your face or how utterly lifeless your eyes appeared to be, and both men knew it had little to do with the poor lighting from the few small windows sprinkled along the walls near the ceiling.

And only once they were certain they were alone again did both Satoru and Suguru finally release the breath neither of them realized they were simultaneously holding.

“Fucking hell…” Satoru groaned and slumped down to the floor to sit on his haunches. “What was that all about?” He asked, looking up at Suguru through feather soft lashes.

Suguru leaned back against the wall across from him and let out his own sigh of frustration.

He didn't understand what this feeling was or where it was coming from, but it was taking all his restraint not to go chasing after you, to make certain you didn't do anything foolish.

Perhaps it had something to do with seeing you in such a vulnerable state when you thought you were completely alone…

He had seen plenty of his friends in bad moods or had been a shoulder for them to cry on when they were stressed and upset, but he had never seen anyone in real life break apart so uncontrollably the way you had just now; not even Satoru after the death of his parents, if one could even call those two absent shit-stains by the title of parent.

“I don't know.” He whispered. “Maybe she has a significant other back home and they got into a fight or something?”

He saw the darkened look that flashed across Satoru's face and knew immediately that the thought of that prospect didn't settle with him any better than it did with Suguru himself.

“Or someone she knows could have gotten hurt, or even died.” Satoru casually stated, and wondered what it must have said about him that he hoped it was that and not Suguru's option.

This was not what either of them had expected to deal with today, not that anyone could have predicted it, but now that they had witnessed what you obviously must have thought was a moment of extreme vulnerability, their interest was thoroughly piqued and he knew that neither he nor Suguru would be able to walk away and just forget about it so easily.

At the very least, he wanted to know the details of the situation, even if they couldn't do anything about it to help you in the end, because if he didn't, then those mournful cries of yours would follow him for a long time, possibly forever, and he wasn't entirely sure he could stay sane if the burning question of it wasn't answered.

“Come on, let's go home for the rest of the day and figure out what we want to do.” Suguru said, and held his hand out to help his boyfriend rise to his feet. “There's no point in attending any more of our classes today if neither of us will be able to properly concentrate.”

It wasn't until they were almost to the door that something caught Satoru's attention and he had to pause for a moment to thank the heavens for his good fortune, because there was your shattered phone, still laying on the ground where it had originally dropped.

“It must be our lucky day, babe.” He said with a grin, bending down to pick up the device.

“I'm not too surprised, the poor thing was practically catatonic when she left, and a broken phone was probably the last thing on her mind.” Suguru wrapped his arms around Satoru's middle and rested his chin in the crook of his neck to look over his shoulder and watch him gingerly tap at the screen. “Maybe we could use returning it as an excuse to talk to her?” He suggested, but dismissed the idea just as quickly when he realized that would mean needing to explain how they found it and how they knew it was yours.

Satoru nodded his head absentmindedly, already knowing that he and Suguru had likely reached the same conclusion on that option, but he had one that might prove to be a bit more useful to them in the long run, especially as the lock screen lit up and showed both men that it was only the protective cover over the screen that was shattered. The sturdy case and screen protector had spared it from any true damage, and as he stared at the picture you had set of you and what appeared to be your parents at your high school graduation ceremony, he couldn't help but feel that fate was too good a word to describe this opportunity, and it had to mean something so much more.

“Let's stop by a cell-phone store on the way home.” He suggested, before pocketing the device and turning to give his boyfriend a conspiratorial wink and smile. “I have an idea of my own that I think you'll like a whole lot more.”

----------

Later on that night, Satoru and Suguru found themselves snuggled up together on the couch that faced the large wall of windows in their penthouse apartment that overlooked the Tokyo city skyline.

When the two of them had first graduated high school together nearly four years earlier and started apartment hunting together, they had immediately been sold on this particular property, located in Minato, based solely on the views it provided of the city at night, and naturally, with Satoru being who he was, they ended up with the absolute best the building had to offer, right at the very top on the 45th floor.

It had already come fully furnished at the time they had first moved in, but over the course of their almost four year residency, they had slowly replaced everything with pieces that were more suited to their own tastes and preferences.

That was one thing that he loved so much about Satoru, despite the apartment being in his name and the money from his monthly stipends paying for everything they had, his boyfriend never made him feel less than for not being able to contribute more than his ability to cook and help clean. Satoru always told him that the money was just as much his, and had even gone so far as to get Suguru's name put on the account and debit/credit cards of his very own so he never had to ask for money.

Satoru, for all his childish tendencies and spoiled entitlement, saw the two of them as equal partners in their relationship, and did everything he possibly could to show him that at every opportunity.

But the greatest gift of all, besides just being in his life, had been in the form of his college expenses.

Satoru had always been destined to attend his parents alma mater, the University of Tokyo, but for Suguru, with his poorer background and lack of financial resources, despite his excellent grades and a long list of extracurriculars that had earned him a full scholarship to the elite high school they had both attended, the prestigious university had always felt more like a far off and unattainable dream as he'd sent in his application for it, and half a dozen other more affordable and realistic schools.

Schools that were far enough away that it would have seen him and Satoru separated and likely to break up.

So when, mere days after his parents' funeral, Satoru had expressed a keen desire to pay for his tuition entirely from his own pocket, just to help him achieve his dreams and keep them from being separated, Suguru had known then and there that the white haired young man was the one for him.

It wasn't about the money though, Suguru had never given a single thought to asking his, admittedly very wealthy boyfriend, for financial assistance. It was Satoru's genuine desire to help him and not lose each other that had cemented it in his mind that they were it for one another; that, come hell or high water, he would fight tooth and nail to keep what they had, and Satoru had been more that eager to share the sentiment.

And now, here they were, making what might be one of the biggest decisions of their life together as they scrolled through your now deactivated phone, and seething with rage at what they were learning.

“You're reading the same thing as me, right? I’m not misinterpreting this?” Satoru asked through clenched teeth.

Suguru's mood wasn't much better as he took the phone from his boyfriend's tightening grip to read the translated email more closely.

“No, you're not.”

After leaving campus for the day, the first thing they had done was drive to a small electronics store on the outskirts of the city to have your phone deactivated. And thankfully, with the help of a very hefty bribe, the creep working the shady storefront had been more than happy to ignore the questionable ethics of forcefully disconnecting and resetting the password on a phone that clearly didn't belong to either of the men asking for it to be done, and in less than thirty minutes, the two had been on their merry way back home.

It had been Suguru's idea to run everything on your phone through a translator app so they could try and figure out what was going on with you, and while they both felt a mild sense of guilt over snooping so deeply into your private life, they told themselves it was for your own good, that they were only trying to help.

The translations were by no means perfect, but both men were smart enough to read between the lines and mentally fix whatever errors there were in the process, and while your text messages had been a bust, with most of them being fairly quick and concise, your emails proved to be much more fruitful.

And rage inducing…

Satoru had been right in assuming that whatever had brought on your traumatic breakdown had to do with your family, but if what they were reading had any kind of truth to it, which neither of them were truly doubting, then it was so much worse than just someone you knew and loved dying on you.

The email in question was from your mother and read as followed;

(Y/N), I know this will come as a tremendous shock to you whenever you read this, and I need you to understand that me and your father are not making this decision to be cruel to you, but you are no longer a child, you are a grown woman on her own at college, in another country no less, and I feel like I should be allowed to be honest with you about the changes both our lives are about to take.

I think you are well aware by now that having you was not a choice neither I nor your father made willingly, you were a genuine accident, and while we care about you and want you to succeed more than anything, you are grown now and fully capable of no longer needing us. Me and your father put our dreams and desires on hold and raised you for nineteen years, and now it is time for us to be allowed to live our lives how we see fit. We have already sold the house and all but its most important items, all of your belongings have been packed up and moved to a storage unit that I have provided the number for down below. It has been paid off for the next six months while you decide how and what to do with it, but this is the final assistance we will give you, as we need all the money we can spare to begin our new lives elsewhere.

I know this is going to be very hard for you to understand, but your father and I were free spirits before we had you, travel and adventure was our life, and while we did our due diligence upon having you, I won't lie and say that you were our greatest joy. Having to be tied down to one place for so long in order to give you the stability you required, it killed us a little inside with each year that passed, and now that we are finally free, we feel it is best we no longer keep in contact with you going forward. It will only serve to remind us of a time we no longer want to think about, and it will only give you false hope in the end that things could go back to your perceived version of normal, and that is not fair to any of us.

We will be replacing our phones and numbers at the end of the week, so feel free to call us anytime between now and then if you have anything to say or add.

And please, take care of yourself and live your life to the fullest.

That was where the email ended.

It had been sent less than 24 hours ago, and a quick check of your call log showed them that your parents were indeed the last people you had tried calling, your mother having been the one to finally pick up and respond to your, now understandably, very frantic calls earlier in the storage room.

“What kind of sorry excuse for a mother would do this to their own child?” Satoru asked, his voice as cold and icy as his eyes and hair. “My parents were shit at being parents, and even they would have never done something as cruel and heartless as this.”

Suguru nodded in complete agreement as he reread the words on the screen again for a third time, and had to fight down every urge he had to punch this awful woman's number into his own phone and give her a piece of his mind.

“The only kind of people who could do this with as little remorse as she seems to have, are the kind that should have never been allowed to conceive in the first place.” The dark haired man responded, and draped an arm over his loves shoulders for comfort.

The two sat in silence for a long while after that, slowly processing everything they had learned, and in that time, Satoru had opened up your photo gallery for them to look through, idly scrolling through picture after picture, wanting to understand you further and gain insight into who you were. They started from the oldest ones at the very top, which seemed to date back three years, and while you seemed more interested in taking pictures of other people and the things and places around you, when a photo of yourself did eventually pop up every now and then, it always blindsided then how joyful and happy you seemed, especially in contrast with how they had seen you earlier, so sad and broken.

“So, what do we do now, Suguru?”

Suguru sighed, having known they would eventually have to discuss this.

“I know we were mostly just curious to find out what was the cause of her breakdown earlier, but now that we know the whole story, I don't think I can just leave this situation alone.” He said, and felt Satoru relax beside him, that was enough to tell him that his partner felt the same as him.

“Normally, I'd say that destiny and fate can suck my fat cock, but I don't feel like it was just mere coincidence that led to us being in that storage room with her today, it was definitely something more.” Satoru said, his confidence returning in full force as he stared down at a picture of your bright and smiling face, wishing more than anything that they could see it in person. “So who better to help a poor damsel in distress than the two best equipped guys in the city; we have the money, the means, and the time to show her were on her side.”

“I couldn't have said it better myself.” Suguru chuckled and kissed his cheek. “Now the only question is how do we proceed and make it happen?”

Satoru flashed him that signature too confident grin as he leaned back into his arms and pulled out his own phone.

“Don't worry, I got us covered on that front.” He said, scrolling through his minimal contacts to find the one he needed. “She might not figure it out right away, but our girl isn't going to know what to do with herself once she realizes she's got two knights in shining armor looking out for her.”

I've recently gotten really into JJK and since I'm not really feeling the motivation to write for any of my other fics at the moment, here is the newest idea that is rotting my brain from the inside out.

Please enjoy and let me know what you think!

And as always, I want to give a BIG thank you to my amazing friend @talpup  for all the brainstorming and encouragement on these stories! I’m sure I would have given up on this blog a while ago if it wasn’t for all of their help. I highly encourage anyone who takes the time to read this to go over to their page or their AO3 account under the same name and check out their works, especially Chaos and Erase The Shadow. They are two of my favorite BNHA fics of ALL TIME! And who has also started their own Yandere!Overhaul fic called Crossroads and is set in a 1920′s prohibition style era, it’s amazing and you need to check it out!

[adhdduckie]

jujutsu kaisen masterlist !!

full masterlist (multi-fandom)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

𝗷𝘂𝗷𝘂𝘁𝘀𝘂 𝗸𝗮𝗶𝘀𝗲𝗻

yuuji itadori

i.being in love with your best friend - yuuji itadori x reader (3k words)

↪ you've been in love with yuuji for as long as you've known him. All this time you've believed he's had no interest in you, but when a mission goes awry, feelings are exposed.

gojo satoru

i. second choice. - teen!gojo x fem!reader

↪you've loved him since the beginning, so you want to be there for him. in an attempt to speak to gojo after getou has abandoned you all, you tell him that you know you're not the first choice for him to speak to, but he wants you to know you're the first choice for him

ii. from the outside - teen!gojo x fem!reader. (1.5k words)

↪your best friend gojo and you's relationship through the eyes of everyone else. they are going insane, you're both so blind. iii. not the one! - teen!gojo x fem!reader. (1.5k words)

↪you're in love with gojo. he doesn't love you back. It takes you awhile to realise this, and you find out in a way you wish you'd never. Tw: ANGST no fluff no comfort iii. still not yours! (continuation from not the one)

↪ gojo has made the biggest mistake of his fucking life. he wants you back, but you don't want him, because now, you're with suguru.

choso kamo

i. cuz he's my best friend's brother! - bfb!choso x fem!reader

↪he's your best friend's older brother- that's all he is to you. nothing more, nothing less. so why do you feel this way about him? and why are you so interested in the things that he does? he seems to have no interest in you at all. (no curses AU) turns out he's just as whipped as you. yuji being done with u n choso forever

poll

nanami kento

nothing yet!!

toge inumaki

....request?

jjk headcanons -

↪headcanons with people being in your class. pt 1 , pt 2

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

requests are open

[quinnyundertow]

I’m so excited to finally get to introduce this co authored fic with @indiewritesxoxo formerly indieotterxoxo. Will format and post to tumblr soon.

This is a romantic comedy with multiple endings. Adding tags as we go. Don’t expect anything accurate when it comes to law lmao.

Your Honor

Summary: You were able to finally open your own law firm even if it was a dump in the shady side of town. Everything had been going smoothly until an encounter with real estate heir Satoru Gojo.

“I'm not going on a date with you,” You frowned. Sex was one thing. But getting emotionally involved with him?

“I wasn't asking you on one,” He complained, heat rising to your face at your wrong assumption. Although, it's not like anyone could blame you when he was showing up uninvited bearing treats just for an excuse to get in your pants.

“Suguru and I are going out for drinks, thought you could use a break,” He huffed, pretending to be wounded as if he wasn't itching to pull down the zipper and slip his hand down.

[zygzytsa-art]

*cutely undeaths your death paintings*

What happened, is that soon after Choso became my fav, and that plot twist happened(iykyk), I’ve been thinking about the rest of his bros too, and how they would’ve lived happily.

And that’s when I’ve got an idea to simply just put them in a “No curses AU” where they are living as ordinary humans, Choso already looks just like a very tired dude, but when I imagined Kechizu as a human…My life was never the same, idk why, but I loved how he turned out, and he and Yuji would’ve got along so well and defo shared a braincell, if only…💔💔💔

Alr, that’s all for today, but expect me to draw these guys more, and also the AU as well, it took off my brain aughhh. I’ll already thought about the story of that AU, but that’s for another post.

[bloody-bee-tea]

June of (minimal) Doom 2024 Day 26 - Don't lie to me

Suguru knows Satoru well enough to recognise the aftermath of insomnia on his face and he doesn’t even need to hear him walk around the apartment like a ghost in the dead of night for that.

The bags under his eyes and the pinched look, the hunched shoulders and the minute trembling of his smiles were all dead giveaways.

And yet Suguru still has to watch Satoru walk around their lecture hall as if nothing at all is wrong.

“Hey, Satoru!” Haibara greets him, clear enthusiasm in his voice and Suguru watches how Satoru drags up a smile that almost seems real before he turns around to Haibara. “How are you doing?” Haibara asks, clearly not noticing what Suguru is seeing clear as day and Suguru clenches his fist in his pocket.

He wants to go up to them, drag Satoru away so he can rest, so he doesn’t have to pretend but he knows that Satoru will only be mad at him if he does.

Satoru doesn’t like to show weakness to anyone and that sadly includes Suguru as well.

“I’m fine,” Satoru gives back, strained smile fixed on his face and the words rattle around in Suguru’s mind.

I’m fine, he says while his body language screams anything but.

Suguru wonders if the people around them are just wilfully ignoring the signs or if they truly do not notice how much Satoru seems to struggle these days. Suguru isn’t even sure what triggered the recent bout of insomnia; there hasn’t been a clear incident that he could identify, and that, above all else, is worrying Suguru more than he likes to admit.

He and Satoru have been living together for long enough by now for Suguru to identify a few of Satoru’s triggers. Of course nothing has come forth voluntarily, because god forbid Satoru ever confides in him, but he isn’t quite as adamant as hiding everything from Suguru as he normally is and Suguru learned to take that as a sign of trust.

So he knows that loud voices, yelling and the sound of doors being locked is enough to give Satoru trouble sleeping.

None of that happened in the last few days in their apartment though, Suguru thinks, and so he’s at a complete loss.

Suguru keeps a close eye on Satoru throughout the day; he isn’t quite as sociable as Satoru, doesn’t try to make himself that, either, and so he’s quite content to sit at his own table and wait for Satoru to come back around to him.

And he always does, Suguru reminds himself. No matter what’s currently going on with Satoru, he always comes back to Suguru as if he’s a fixed point that Satoru can’t avoid and that surely has to mean something.

“Eat something,” Suguru suggests gently when Satoru comes back to him from yet another friend group, slumping over the table as if all the energy has been sapped from him and he pushes a cup of pudding towards Satoru.

Satoru doesn’t like being taken care of, doesn’t like being catered to, and Suguru learned to act as if he’s not doing that. Paired with the fact that Satoru is a bit more tolerant towards any fussing from Suguru, it works out fine, most days, and even though Satoru eyes him suspiciously, clearly knowing that Suguru bought this pudding especially for him, he doesn’t say anything as he takes it.

“Thanks,” he mutters as he digs in and Suguru bites his tongue instead of asking if he’s okay.

He’s only going to get the same answer as everyone else here and Suguru is not about to do that to himself. There will be time to ask later, when they are back home, when he can gently bully Satoru into at least not lying to him but right now is really not the place for it.

So instead of saying anything he watches how Satoru drags up another shaking smile as he turns to the next person who comes up to their table, asking how Satoru is.

“I’m fine,” he says again, his hand gripping the spoon so hard Suguru is glad he brought proper ones and not plastic ones because those surely would have splintered in Satoru’s hand.

Suguru glares at the person who just came to talk to Satoru, annoyed that they can’t see what Satoru is so desperate to hide and Suguru knows it’s unfair.

Satoru loves being social, loves having someone to talk to at any given moment as if he could die and wither away if no one pays attention to him, and he’s trying so hard to hide how he really feels.

If anything Suguru is mad at everyone around them, for not knowing Satoru well enough to pick up on his cues, even as it makes him feel real special that he is able to.

It’s an entire mix of emotions swirling in Suguru’s gut that day, and he’d rather not think too hard about it.

Instead he contents himself with staring at Satoru and noting down every moment he seems down, as if that would make him feel better.

“I’m fine,” Satoru says to the next person who joins them and asks the same question and Suguru looks down at the table.

Satoru is not fine and Suguru is going to find out what’s going on the moment they get home because he just wants to help.

He wants Satoru to sleep well and he wants him to really smile at the people around them and not force himself to do that.

But it’ll have to wait until they are home.

~*~*~

Suguru waits until Satoru is flopped down on the couch, relaxed and apparently happy before he asks.

“Satoru, how are you doing?” he wants to know, keeping his voice low and soft in an attempt not to scare Satoru away, but of course he doesn’t miss the way Satoru tenses.

“I’m—” he starts to say and Suguru cuts him off before he can even finish that sentence.

“Don’t lie to me,” Suguru says, begs almost, and he reaches out to card his fingers through Satoru’s hair.

He stays tense, but he doesn’t move away and Suguru counts that as a win for himself.

“You’re not fine,” Suguru goes on and he pretends it doesn’t matter to him when Satoru glares at him.

“What the fuck do you want from me?” Satoru snaps out and Suguru reminds himself not to take it to heart, that Satoru isn’t angry with him. He’s just angry in general.

“Honesty,” Suguru simply gives back. “You don’t have to tell me what’s going on, if you don’t want, but don’t treat me like everyone else either. It’s okay if you don’t want to talk, you know it is, but—don’t lie to my face. I can see that you’re not fine.”

There’s a brief silence between them and Suguru is prepared to let it sit until Satoru goes and hides in his room, but to his surprise Satoru closes his eyes again, pushing a little bit into Suguru’s hand still in his hair.

“So what do you want me to say?” he asks, and he sounds lost in a way Suguru isn’t used to.

“The truth, preferably,” he honestly gives back, knowing that it’s a lot to ask for. “Not an explanation, just—if you’re not fine, then say that. I’m not going to push if you don’t want me to. I just—I just want to know how you’re really feeling. And if that is not well, I’d rather you just tell me that.”

Satoru hums, letting him know that he heard him, even as he continues to stay silent and Suguru resigns himself to being shut out for the reminder of the day, when Satoru turns his head towards him.

“I feel like shit,” Satoru rasps out and even though he can’t quite manage to meet Suguru’s eyes, he curls towards him.

“Thank you for being honest,” Suguru whispers and tugs gently on a strand of hair. “Now come here,” he cajoles him and moves around on the couch, dragging Satoru along with him until they are stretched out on it, Satoru’s head pillowed on his chest.

“You’re not going to ask?” Satoru wants to know after a long moment and Suguru sighs.

“Of course I want to know,” he honestly admits. “If only so I know what caused this so I can avoid it, so I can help. But I’m not going to push if you don’t want me to.”

“I trust you,” Satoru says as if that was ever in question and Suguru huffs.

“I know that, Satoru, this isn’t about that. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t be here, in this apartment with me. I know that trust has nothing to do with it. But trust and honesty are different. You can trust me and still lie to me, like you did.”

“It’s—a reflex,” Satoru admits and Suguru feared as much. “I’m not allowed to be a bother.”

There are several things on the tip of Suguru’s tongue but he bites them all back. Instead he starts drawing patterns on Satoru’s back as he gathers his thoughts.

“You’re not a bother,” he starts with because it’s important that he gets that out first. “You never could be, not to me.”

Satoru makes a sound as if he wants to scoff at what Suguru just said and Suguru pinches his side.

“Am I ever a bother to you?” he wants to know because for all that Satoru clearly has his issues, Suguru isn’t without fault either.

Their personalities clash, the way they live clash and just last week Suguru didn’t mange to get out of bed for almost three days, making Satoru look after him. Suguru’s depressive episodes might have gotten better over time and with the right treatment, but they still happen and Satoru still has to take the brunt of them.

“Never,” Satoru tells him just like Suguru expected and he allows himself a small smile.

“But you think it’s different when it comes to you,” he says, because he doesn’t need to ask about that. He knows how Satoru’s brain works most of the time.

“Of course it is.”

“Well, of course you’re wrong,” Suguru immediately shoots back. “Cause you’re never a bother to me either.”

“You were bothered today,” Satoru mutters. “You kept frowning and throwing glares at everyone.”

“I wasn’t bothered, I was worried,” Suguru corrects him. “Because you kept lying to everyone around you and hiding how you’re really doing. And I understand that need, especially with how many people you’re friendly with, but I don’t like it when you do the same to me.”

“I didn’t want you to ask questions,” Satoru admits and Suguru sighs.

“I’m not going to if you don’t want me to, I promise. Just—let me know when you’re not doing well. I can still help, right? Like this? This is good, isn’t it?” he asks, even though the way Satoru has gone boneless on top of him speaks for itself. “I can’t do this if you lie to my face about being okay.”

“I hate when you’re all logical,” Satoru grumbles, even as he pushes his face further into Suguru’s chest. “The stew you made two days ago,” he then suddenly says and Suguru frowns because he doesn’t understand what that has to do with anything.

“What about it?” he gently asks and feels Satoru freeze before he forces himself to relax again.

“It reminded me of home,” Satoru quietly says and Suguru immediately vows to never make it again.

He’s not going to apologise for making it, because he couldn’t have known and he knows it will only make Satoru feel worse so he simply nods.

“Okay. I won’t make it again. Thank you for telling me.”

“Now shut up, my pillow isn’t supposed to talk that much,” Satoru grumbles, clearly uncomfortable with the amount of vulnerability he just showed and Suguru buries his face in his hair.

“Sleep well,” he whispers, just moment before Satoru goes lax on top of him and for all that Satoru cares to grumble and hide things from him, he could never ever hide that he trusts Suguru, not when he does things like falling asleep on him like this.

Suguru knows that he is nowhere near to getting Satoru to spill his guts to him, to go into detail of what must have been a horrible home, and in all honesty, he doesn’t need that.

All he needs is Satoru to know that he’s safe, that he’s there for him and when soft snoring reaches his ear, Suguru knows that he manages to at least get that across.

[96crewlove]

i just revised the hell out of one of the fics i wrote during the summer (even though nobody asked but that's okay bc i did it for me anyways) and wanted to share the new version. so here it is!

NINETY NINE BEATS PURR MINUTE 👈🏾

[sunbeamah]

Chapters: 7/8 Fandom: 呪術廻戦 | Jujutsu Kaisen (Anime), 呪術廻戦 | Jujutsu Kaisen (Manga) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Chousou & Itadori Yuuji, Itadori Yuuji & Sukuna | Ryoumen Sukuna, Chousou & Eso & Itadori Yuuji & Kechizu & Sukuna | Ryoumen Sukuna, Fushiguro Megumi/Itadori Yuuji, Kugisaki Nobara/Zenin Maki Characters: Itadori Yuuji, Chousou (Jujutsu Kaisen), Sukuna | Ryoumen Sukuna, Eso (Jujutsu Kaisen), Kechizu (Jujutsu Kaisen), Yoshino Junpei, Kugisaki Nobara, Zenin Maki, Panda (Jujutsu Kaisen), Inumaki Toge, Nanami Kento, Uraume (Jujutsu Kaisen), Fushiguro Toji, Fushiguro Megumi's Mother, Fushiguro Tsumiki Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - No Curses (Jujutsu Kaisen), Fluff, Family Feels, Family Bonding, Family Discovery, this is just an excuse to write them all as brothers, Itadori Yuuji & Sukuna | Ryoumen Sukuna are Twins, Itadori Yuuji-centric, Humor, Minor Character Death, Original Character(s), Swearing, exploring tokyo, Introspection, Sexual Humor, Background Relationships, inumaki has tourettes, Angst, Forced Pregnancy, Miscarriage, Infant Death, Childhood Trauma, Pining, Oblivious Itadori Yuuji, little bit of christmas stuff, Vacation, slight sexual harrassment dw they are Dealt With, Protectiveness, Minor Sukuna | Ryoumen Sukuna/Uraume Series: Part 1 of The Kusozu Brothers Summary:

Itadori Yuuji spent 15 years living as an only child in Sendai. He knew he had brothers in Tokyo, but his Dad (who left him at birth) never texts him back so he's got no way to contact those brothers, really. It's fine— it's not like he loses sleep over it. Sure, he wishes he could meet his brothers, maybe ask them a few things about life, get to know them a little bit. Maybe even make a real friend out of one or two of them. But that's asking a lot from a group of people he'll probably never meet.

Probably.

(NOT!)

[azuramarigold]

Underground Dealings

Synopsis: You were a typical office worker that one day gets fired at your job at a smaller office ran by Naoya Zen'in, but your friend, Yuji Itadori, who works at a small coffee shop that you discovered a year ago on your way to work, suggests that you apply to his uncle's company. What you didn't realize was that your assets were going to be important to the company in every department, and that every head, from the CEO to legal has their own underground dealings on what keeps the company afloat.

Characters: officeworker!reader x CEO!Sukuna, officeworker!reader x businessassociate!Gojo, officeworker!reader x salaryman!Nanami; other pairings to be added

Other characters: Yuji Itadori, Megumi Fushiguro, Nobara Kugisaki, Naoya Zen'in, Maki Zen'in, Mai Zen'in, Uraume; other characters to be added.

Genre: modern au, eventual smut, 18+, angst, violence, gore

WARNINGS: (eventual) smut, blood, violence, gore, using weapons, death, drug use, smoking, alcohol use, cussing.

Divider/Navigation made by: saradika

Ko-Fi Commissions AO3 Profile

Prologue Prev.

Ch 2. Word count: ~4.2k

Chapter 2: Tour of the Office

“If you can sign here, here, and initial here…”

            The attorney that sat in front of you was older, him with nice dark, disheveled hair and eyes with a large nose, but honestly was still quite attractive, and with a strong jaw. He wore a black tailored suit and black tie with a crisp white dress shirt, it wasn't too extravagant – simple and neat. He used a long finger to point at every spot for you to sign on your new employee contract – deliberate and to the point.

            “You'll also be given a personal work laptop and personal cellphone as well,” the attorney stated, he had introduced himself as Hiromi Higuruma. Said items were beside him, a simple thin black laptop and the newest model of the top-of-the-line smartphone – your own phone was a few models behind. “You’ll need to sign an agreement regarding these.” Higuruma then pulled out a couple of documents.

            The documents were simple enough. They stated that you would not use the laptop for personal use such as storing photos, personal data, etc. It was the same for the phone, the phone was to be used to contact clients, arrange things for Mr. Ryōmen for business trips, order necessary things for him, and for him to contact you directly; you were to not give that phone number to anyone unless Mr. Ryōmen gave permission.

            “So, no Candy Crush?” you joked with a slight smile after you read over the contract.

            Higuruma looked at you with tired eyes. “Mr. Itadori tried that on his phone…” he sighed. “Mr. Ryōmen didn’t approve.”

            “Wouldn’t go easy on his own nephew, huh?” you grimaced as you signed. You signed your name with semi-bad penmanship, something your teachers have scolded you for years for, but you never bothered to correct as your mind worked too fast to care for neat handwriting.

            “If anything, the boss is harder on him,” the attorney informed with a slight grin. “He wants Mr. Itadori to be successful.”

            “Yuji never talked about his uncle before…” you mentioned. “Only his grandfather… Is there a reason?”

            “That is not my place,” Higuruma replied stoically, his grin disappearing. He then slipped out another piece of paper. “I almost forgot… you also need to sign an NDA agreement.”

            You internally sighed. You were familiar with those in your line of work. Back when you were an intern during your college days you had to sign quite a few while you were at numerous offices. Then you had to sign one while working with Naoya.

            After a moment or two of reading over everything – which was quite standard stuff – you signed off on everything. Higuruma took the papers back and neatly put everything in his suitcase. He slid over the laptop and cellphone over to you.

            “You of course can put the laptop and phone in any type of case you like,” he told you with a sly smile. “You do get the luxury of having a company credit card as well.” Higuruma then handed you a red card, heavy in your hands as it was made of a heavier material than traditional credit cards.

            Sheepishly, you pawed over the card, noting that there was no significant bank name on it. Its red color was almost a metallic color, reminding you of freshly spilled blood. There was no name on it either, making you wonder how it could be proven to be used as a card, but sure enough there was a magnetic stripe and a chip reader on it.

            “Mr. Ryōmen doesn’t mind what is spent on that card,” Higuruma specified to you. “So, no need to go to him for approval, or do anything for paperwork regarding what you spent on.”

            You raised a brow in confusion. Many, if not all, companies expected receipts when something was bought. Or they expected a full ledger report on what you were going to use the money for just to deny you it and watch you squirm.

            Once you were done in Higuruma’s office, he led you out and standing in front of the door was the white-haired man from the day prior.

            “Why, hello there, Y/N!”

            “Ah, Mr. Gojo, it’s nice to run into you again,” you greeted with a smile.

            Gojo’s crystal blue eyes brightened. “Ah, it’s great running into you again, sweets!” he jested. His eyes darted over to Higuruma, who was getting another document from his briefcase. “Higuruma, I know you are not grabbing what I think you are grabbing!”

            “A sexual harassment form?” Higuruma deadpanned. “Yes. Yes, I am.”

            “Asshole, put that away!” Gojo hissed angrily. “She’ll get the wrong idea!”

            You couldn’t help but chuckle at that, trying, and failing to cover it up with your hand. “What brings you here, Mr. Gojo?”

            Gojo gave a large smile. “Well, you’re officially hired, so, I thought as a lovely gentleman I would give you a tour – HIGURUMA STOP FILLING OUT THE DAMN FORM!”

            There was the subtle sound of Higuruma’s pen haphazardly scratching at the paper on the surface of the wall, filling out the necessary, or in Gojo’s mind unnecessary, parts.

            “Just getting a head start,” the attorney mumbled. He then put the paper away. “Now, Ms. Y/N, the phone I gave you already has some numbers programmed into it. It of course as Mr. Ryōmen’s number, Uraume’s, Mr. Itadori’s, mine, and every department head in the company along with their secretary.”

            Gojo’s eyes sparkled mischievously behind his glasses. “Oh, that means you already have my number!” he informed teasingly. “Feel free to program it into your personal phone as well!” He gave a not-so-subtle wink.

            Higuruma’s hand twitched toward his briefcase again for the form.

            “I swear to any deity that is willing to listen to me, Hiromi, I am going to beat the fuck out of you if you keep doing that!” Gojo threatened, raising a fist and waving it at him.

            “Not very wise to threaten an attorney, Satoru,” Higuruma quipped back, a smile playing on his lips. “Anyways, we are finished here, Ms. Y/N. If you would like to go with Gojo for a tour, I guess I cannot stop you.”

            You gave Higuruma a bow, ignoring the slight hike in your skirt that you for sure Gojo noticed. The skirt you wore was a tad bit shorter than you’d like, but it was the only clean one that you had available.

            “Thank you, Mr. Higuruma,” you thanked. You then took the phone and laptop, cradling the laptop under your arm.ō

            Earlier when you arrived back at Ryōmen Enterprises for your new employee paperwork, the receptionist, Shoko, had set you up with your new employee badge. She took your picture, complimented your hairstyle and makeup, and printed it on a nice official badge. Shoko had given you a generic lanyard for it but informed you that you can use any type of lanyard you’d like.

            As Mr. Ryōmen’s personal assistant now, you have access to every part of the building. Basically, if Mr. Ryōmen, Yuji, and Uraume had access to something, you had access to something. In a way it was refreshing, you had a lot more access to things than when you were with Naoya.

            Gojo was trying to be a decent guide as he wanted to start from the ground up. On the ground floor he re-introduced you to Shoko first, stating that he and her had gone to high school together and in turn when to college together.

            “Actually, a lot of us went to school together,” Gojo pointed out with a smile.

            You quirked an eyebrow. “Just how old are you then, Mr. Gojo?” you inquired with a sly smile.

            He gave an over-exaggerated open mouth gasp, putting his hand to his chest. “My, my…! How rude asking a young man his age!” he dramatically stated while Shoko chuckled.

            “He just turned 32,” Shoko informed coyly. Gojo glared at her in return.

            “Keep smoking and your 32 is going to turn into 62 real fast!” Gojo quipped back.

            You tilted your head to the side. You didn't think Gojo and Shoko looked any older than yourself, mid-twenties. In fact, you wonder how old Mr. Ryōmen was, as he was Yuji's uncle, he didn't look very old either.

            “So, did you guys go to school with Mr. Ryōmen then…?” you then asked curiously.

            “We met in college,” Shoko explained lightly. “He's a few years older than us.”

            You nodded. “It's just… like you guys, he doesn't look his age…” you noted. “It's weird he has a 19-year-old nephew.”

            Gojo shrugged offhandedly. “I think his twin brother knocked up a girl like, right after high school…” he mentioned.

            “Explains why Yuji and he look so much alike…!” you nearly gasped aloud.

            “Yeah, no shit!” Gojo laughed. “I thought Yuji was his kid at first. I was told to shut the fuck up and get back to work.”

            “Which you should be doing right now,” a deep voice rumbled.

            Comically, it looked like shivers ran up Gojo's spine and tingled through his white hair.

            “Oh…! Boss!” Gojo greeted smoothly as he spun around to see Mr. Ryōmen large form behind him. “What a pleasant surprise~!”

            “Get back to fucking work, Gojo!” Mr. Ryōmen griped, his face flushed with anger, teeth gritted, a vein about to pop from his forehead. “I swear to fucking Christ, the Brat does more work than you do and I catch him looking at AI porn of Jennifer Lawrence on his damn tablet!”

            Gojo gave a low whistle, “Kid got balls, man…”

            “Satoru…”

            “Alright, alright…!” Gojo griped, raising his hands up in surrender. “I just wanted to give the new girl a tour is all!”

            Mr. Ryōmen seemed to finally notice that you were standing there awkwardly to the side, now clutching your new work laptop to your chest. You gave a sheepish smile and wave. Mr. Ryōmen narrowed his eyes at the white-haired man.

            “Did Higuruma already start paperwork on your ass, because if he didn’t, I’m-”

            “What the actual fuck…” Gojo groaned in complete dismay before finally walking away in utter defeat.

            Before he could say anything to Shoko, the phone rang, and she promptly answered it with a faux smile and peppy voice.

            “Y/N,” Mr. Ryōmen said to you.

            “Yes…!” you answered with an almost terrified squeak.

            “Come with me, I’ll show you around,” he then ordered.

            “Yes, sir.”

            Mr. Ryōmen started on the bottom floor, which made sense since that was where you were. The bottom floor had the few receptionists that were there, Shoko being the lead one. There were a couple of college aged students that were interns that ran the back office making copies of documents and ran a small office for filing.

            He then showed the small café area where the workers got their coffees and some snacks. There was one lone barista, and he wasn’t all too busy since the morning rush was done.

            “I’ll admit he doesn’t get too much business here,” Mr. Ryōmen grinned. “I’ll probably not renew his contract after its up.”

            “Oh, why is that…?” you asked politely.

            “Ever since I bought that coffee shop for the Brat and he’s been working there with his little friends, most of the employees here get their coffee from him on their way here,” he explained with almost a proud tone. “Some even go on their lunch break for more coffee or the little lunches they have – everyone says the coffee and pastries are better there and love the customer service.” He gave you a side glance, a smirk playing on his lips. “And I recall a little someone walking in this morning also carrying one of those coffees.”

            Your face immediately flushed red. “Oh… well… that coffee shop was how I met Yuji and the others…” You admit that it the coffee was indeed better there than most chains, and you always enjoyed the hand decorated desserts that Megumi and Yuji did together. After hearing that Yuji wanted to franchise it out after getting a business degree, you wonder if that nice charm would still be there.

            “So, I’m gonna be paying you to buy my nephew’s coffee?”

            “What…!? Oh, no…!” You were trying to quickly explain yourself when you heard that he was chuckling under his breath. You frowned, realizing he was playing a joke. “Oh, ha, ha…”

            The tour continued to a large staff break room that had a complete kitchen with state-of-the-art stainless-steel appliances. The refrigerator was stocked with bottled water, sparkling water, and soda, along with some employees’ packed lunches with their names written on them. A few microwaves were attached against the walls and quite large, proving to be better than an average break room's 300-watt microwave.

            The countertops were a nice dark granite, something you would see in a six-figure home and not in a break room. There were small towers in random spots that held condiments and seasonings, all available to twirl to get what you needed. A few spots had electric stoves, so anyone was able to reheat something on a stovetop instead of a microwave. And lastly a lovely double oven was in the center.

            “Once in a while for parties I have professional chefs come and cook for the staff,” Mr. Ryōmen said. “But anyone is allowed to use the facilities here to prepare their lunch – as long as they clean up after themselves.” He stressed that last line heavily.

            You couldn't help but chuckle at that. “You make it sound like you have a couple of children here that don't look after themselves,” you nearly laughed.

            “Yuji can cook very well, he's an excellent chef in the making, but the fucker can't clean up after himself to save his life,” Mr. Ryōmen stressed heavily, you took note that this is the first time he referred to his nephew by name. “And Gojo, he'll start a fire just looking at an empty bowl… in the sink that has water in it.”

            “Oh, dear…” you nearly laughed. “That’s bad.”

            On the next floor on the tour were sales. The sales department was run by a man named Suguru Geto, who had the longest mane of black hair tied up you had ever seen. He gave you a friendly smile and shook your hand while he introduced himself. He didn't wear a suit jacket, most likely had it hung up somewhere, as he was just sporting a black dress shirt and purple tie with black dress pants and shoes.

            You had a feeling that you would be working with Geto a bit more than other departments as sales connect with clients a lot more. So, you chatted with him for a moment before a young girl with caramel colored hair tied in a neat bun with part of her hair as ringlets framing her face, her light brown eyes wide with worry as she gripped a piece of paper in her hands.

            “Mr. Geto…!” the girl nearly wailed. “I just got news from the client…! They want another revision…!” She then fussed as her dark purple skirt and cream cashmere sweater while bouncing between her feet nervously.

            Geto gave you a smile and excused himself for a moment. “Nanako, you and Mimiko have done it four times already, yes…?” he pressed, clearly trying to keep his agitation to a minimum – clearly it was toward the client and not the young girl.

            “Yes…” Nanako tearfully replied. “But they want another…”

            Geto's eye twitched. “Damn monkey…” he muttered under his breath. “Nothing but a circus show here…”

            Mr. Ryōmen seemed to know when Geto got in the mood it was time to leave. He escorted you from the office and headed to the next part of the tour, you were looking over your shoulder to see an almost devilish smile on Geto’s face as he was on the phone with the client.

            The next floor was marketing, although you could tell by seeing Mr. Ryōmen’s face he would rather skip it since it was Gojo’s department. However, it was part of the tour.

            With marketing, Gojo’s job was to make sure the brand was profitable and to help team up with sales to create awareness for clients. Gojo and Geto were high school best friends, so they were very familiar with each other and worked well together.

            Speaking of the devil, Gojo sat at his desk, his head cradled with one hand as he was on the phone no doubt with a client himself. His brows were furrowed angrily while he had a couple of people bussing about with numerous papers.

            In your line of work from previous companies, you have also dealt with marketing. There was no doubt that you would be working with Gojo as well as Geto. Luckily, Gojo was very easygoing, and since he was close to Geto you were sure you would get along with the raven-haired man as well.

            Gojo, having no time to do his usual charms, uncradled his head and used the now free arm to give you a subtle wave. He went back to what he was doing, looking as though he wanted whoever was on the other line to explode.

            Mr. Ryōmen decided to skip the next floor, as you were already there earlier – legal. You have already met Mr. Higuruma and the attorney showed you around. There were only a few lawyers with the company, but Mr. Ryōmen trusted Higuruma the most as they were classmates in high school and were roommates in college.

            The next floor was finance, which was run by Kento Nanami. He was a tall, blonde man with sharp cheekbones and a strong jawline, his hair neatly parted. Like the other heads of their respective departments, he was wearing a suit, but he wore beige with a dark, royal blue dress shirt with a spotted yellow tie and a pair of brown dress shoes.

            He was not very sociable as his greeting was short and curt, his hazel eyes barely taking a glance at you. It seemed Nanami was busy as he was looking through papers and asking others in his area to go over the numbers once more, including his second in command, Yuu Haibara.

            Sales, marketing, and finance all work closely together in a business – and as the personal assistant to the CEO of the company, now it is your duty to make sure to get the details of each department and make sure everything was running smoothly. Again, you will most likely get along with Gojo and Geto, but Nanami seemed very intimidating.

            There were a few other departments that Mr. Ryōmen introduced you to as well, such as IT, run by Takuma Ino, who Mr. Ryōmen had to remind him apparently once again to remove his beanie while in the office. The young man, who was the same age as you, only gave a sheepish smile as he complied while he introduced himself. He had messy brown hair, messy from his beanie, and large brown eyes, making him look much younger than he was – it didn't help that his professional attire was a dark gray polo shirt and black slacks with black and white canvas high-tops. In a way he was cute, you could admit that but compared to the other men you had just met Ino was almost too “Boy Next Door” type.

            Several small administrative offices were in the building as well, each connected to the main departments run by each person you were introduced to. Many of the employees on the administration side seemed to be around your age, or even a couple of years younger, around the same age as the café trio you've come to befriend. They all seemed friendly and excited to meet you, although a but uneasy to see who you were accompanied by.

            After roughly two hours of touring the building, Mr. Ryōmen even showed you where the supply room was and smaller kitchenette areas were for mini-fridges and coffee makers, you were finally back at the top floor where his office was located. Uraume was at their desk, typing away at the computer, their eyes glancing toward the two of you exiting the elevator before quickly finishing and getting up.

            “Sir, I have Ms. Y/N’s desk prepared as you have asked,” Uraume informed with a slight bow.

            “Ah, good, right-on time,” Mr. Ryōmen smiled. He then proceeded to lead you to a decently sized desk that was across from Uraume’s, but still in front of Mr. Ryōmen’s office. You could tell that the desk was new and sturdy, a nice, sleek desktop setup already booted-up with a printout of your new log-in information on the keyboard.

            There was still enough room on the desk to put the laptop to the side and work on it. You didn’t have a desk phone as everything you would do as the CEO’s personal assistant would be through the work cellphone. While Uraume was the secretary and kept up with the paperwork in the office and meetings within the building with the staff, your job was more for his social meetings with clients outside the office.

            You settled at the desk, the chair contouring to your body with easy. It was ergonomic with amazing lumbar support, and it even helped support your head and neck. You could easily sit in the chair for hours without pain. It sure beat the regular $20 Wal-Mart chair that Naoya had for your desk…

            “You are free to put some personal objects on your desk,” Mr. Ryōmen informed you when he noticed you were in bliss from the chair. It sounded like he was trying to hold back a chuckle. “You know, like pictures, I know Ino and the Brat puts up little figurines on their desks.”

            You nodded in acknowledgement, still content in the chair.

            “I’m guessing you like the chair…?” your boss rumbled in amusement, you could hear the smile in his voice.

            “This is the best damn chair I’ve ever sat on…” you sighed blissfully.

            “Damn, getting a hard on over a chair?” the man nearly choked with a cackle.

            “I am but a simple woman… nice chairs and maybe a nice cheese platter…”

            Another low rumble escaped Mr. Ryōmen. “Well, I'll be sure to have a cheese platter for you as your official welcoming gift to the office.”

            His comment snapped you out of your trance as you clumsily shot from your chair, causing it to nearly fly out from behind you. “Oh, no!” you nearly shrieked. “That is not necessary at all!” you insisted.

            The man only laughed as he turned away from you to walk back into his office, waving overhead as he did.

            For the rest of the day you sat at your new desk getting your desktop set up, Uraume helping you through the system and showing you the scheduling software. It was a couple of hours later when Yuji showed up to the office, in another crisp looking suit tailored, looking excited to see that you were officially there at a desk with Uraume.

            “I told you I was starting today…” you nearly deadpanned to him. “This morning I did when I got my usual coffee…”

            “It's so different from being told versus seeing it though!” Yuji said excitedly. Giddily, he almost ran to your desk at your side seeing what you were doing. “Did you already meet all the heads yet?”

            You nodded. “Yeah, Mr. Ryōmen showed me around,” you replied.

            Yuji blinked in surprise. “Really? He didn’t even show me around. He had Nanamin do it.”

            You tilted your head to the side in confusion. “Nanamin…?” you repeated.

            “Oh, Nanami in finance,” Yuji elaborated with a grin. “I just call him that.”

            You honestly couldn’t imagine the blonde, stoic man tolerating that.

            Yuji then shrugged. “Well, hopefully my uncle didn’t make you uncomfortable,” he then said.

            The next hour was you finishing up all your login information, both Yuji and Uraume making sure you were all set. Mr. Ryōmen saw the two crowding you as he walked out of his office, raising a curious brow.

            “You all settled?” he called out.

            “She should be good!” Yuji answered for you with a thumbs up.

            “Then she can go home, and you can actually do what you’re supposed to do!” Mr. Ryōmen snapped.

            Yuji hung his head, and he groaned, “Dude, I don’t even get paid here…!”

            “I literally bought you a whole ass coffee shop,” his uncle deadpanned. “Suck it up, Brat.”

            “Ugh… yes, Uncle Kuna,” the young man grumbled.

            You chuckled at the sudden familial nickname Yuji called your new boss. However, you did notice Mr. Ryōmen’s eye twitch slightly.

            “Y/N,” Mr. Ryōmen then said, a devilish smile on his face. “You may leave now for the day. I have… some words to speak to my nephew.”

            You didn’t need to be told twice as you logged out of the computer and gathered your items. As you began to walk away, you did wave at Uraume goodbye and went to do the same thing to Yuji, only to see Mr. Ryōmen dragging the poor boy into his office by the ear.             All in all, you thought your first day wasn't too bad.

Special thanks to my Ko-fi supporters!

Basic Tier

Aostrele

Draconic Hermit

JadEDU

Jaune Arc

Zippy

Middle Tier

@genderfluidsgetguns AKA IdoInFactLikeDogs

[revesdelimonade]

stop the feeling

🍷 rated e, 3.4k words 🍷 comphet fem!stsg 🍷 in which there’s a wedding, Satoru pines, and Suguru is forced to confront her feelings for her best friend once and for all

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56120047

[lilacxquartz]

CHASING HUMANITY • kenjaku × fem!reader

ao3 • masterlist • << previous chapter • next chapter >>

summary: kenjaku assigns you a new role for a case study, finding that it brings him conflicting feelings.

a/n: extra long chapter <3 no real warnings for this one, maybe sickness & suggestive content. i’m setting it up for a pretty messed up chapter for next time though.

Chapter 4. Cold Soba

In a way, this whole thing didn’t feel real.

What exactly were you really doing here?

And why were you having these thoughts now of all times?

Taking a deep breath, you attempted to steel yourself. No matter how you looked at it, it didn’t look good. You took a life this morning. Whether it was indirect or not, your actions led to the end of someone’s existence and for… what exactly?

What a joke. Suddenly, the air around you felt thicker, more thicker and barely breathable. You wanted to get out of the car sooner than later, lest you forget how to function. Just for a second, nothing more, the promise to stay put be damned.

You left the car anyway. You wouldn’t go far, at least. The gas station nearby where he was parked was sparsely manned with just a single employee. Their unrelenting gaze on you felt almost accusatory, but there was surely no way they knew, so it was all likely in your head… right? You were just browsing around, they were probably just making sure that you weren’t a thief. Fingers flicking through overpriced snacks and drinks alike in the aisles, quickly realising that the very prospect of food nauseated you.

In a strained tone, you asked the clerk if there was a bathroom on-site and he said there was one around the corner of the building, accessible from the outside. You tore forward in a flash, slamming the door and locking yourself in the tiny room yet somehow, it felt less suffocating than being in the car with him.

For a while you just stood there, your body reeling. Your eyes focused on the shoddy lock that barely kept the outside world away.

Soon enough, the wave of nausea passed through you again. Whether you wanted it, whatever little substance was in your stomach was coming back up and you couldn’t do a single thing about it.

Flipping the lid open, you dry heaved into the bowl.

Your mind continued to overwhelm itself with confusion.

Why did you act like that, back there?

You had never shown even a hint of potentially being violent, so why did you act like taking a life away like that was… nothing at all? Did living the way you did, so empty and numb and abused, really give you the right to apply that same level of depravity towards someone else just as undeserving?

Was it worth it? Your mind continued to challenge you, almost tauntingly. Was it? To attempt to impress someone who didn’t even see meaning behind your own life? Who nearly left you for dead?

You weren’t so sure why you were having these thoughts now but here you were, unable to escape them.

Leaving after washing up, you settled back into the passenger seat of the car, finding that Kenjaku was now wide awake, staring blankly at the steering wheel. He glanced you over without regarding you before pulling the car back onto the road.

Attempting to diffuse the tension, you tried to break the ice. “Thought I ran off?”

For a while, he didn’t reply as though seeing through you. Kenjaku recognised that look that you currently were, finding it almost nostalgic. After his first kill, his mind also spiralled in a similar fashion. It was a familiar feeling by now though and he had grown desensitised to the whole thing, prioritising his efforts into chasing the meaning behind humanity.

Still, it was a look he could never forget.

Meaning that you must have gotten him to an extent.

Maybe you were even trying to find your own meaning too, in the midst of this whole mess that you got yourself into.

“Not at all,” he finally said, “you’re not that stupid.”

The drive for the most part down the freeway was surprisingly quiet, the radio tuning into music on and off with static that buzzed when the connection faltered. You stared out of the window, seemingly dissociating through the ride. He didn’t mind. Eventually, he found himself tuning into the news, shuddering when he caught a mention of his calling card being found earlier than anticipated, with one suspected not yet found victim.

How quaint. Did the local authorities really think that you were the second victim? Almost. Luckily he got that itch scratched with the unfortunate tourist.

He supposed that it made sense that you were reported missing, though. He wondered if your cop boyfriend was the one to report it, or if someone else saw something they shouldn’t have. Maybe he was careless and you left behind something that indicated a struggle or maybe you simply had places to be during the early morning that seemed suspicious in the wake of a fresh murder. As long as they kept their efforts isolated to the vicinity of the town though, then neither of you needn’t worry, at least for a while.

Kenjaku flicked his gaze back at you, wondering why he was even giving you so much thought.

It didn’t matter to him whether you left the shithole he found you in or not, but by bringing you along, he invited an extra inconvenience in doing so. If you were to be a missing person, then he would likely have to disguise you a little now. Maybe shorter hair and a different colour. Red might be good. Maybe something you wouldn’t usually wear. Anything to distract the public from what you typically looked like.

The drive itself was long and tedious either way, but it did soon come to an end. Parking the car over a cheap inn-style hotel near a different town, not too far from the road, he figured that some real rest wouldn’t hurt at least for a couple of nights. If the efforts were focused elsewhere for now, then that’s all that mattered. He would get you a new phone, something simple, just to use as a burner. New clothes and some hair dye. To keep himself hidden, he would dress down for a while, refraining from the recognisable robes.

A shame. Those things were comfortable.

Leaving you behind to rest in the hotel room, he could only hope that you stayed put that time and weren’t roaming around the area causing more trouble than he could keep up with.

It would be a shame to get rid of you soon.

~~~

With everything back in tow, he found you resting on the still made hotel bed when he got back, indicating that you hadn’t moved a single inch since he had left you there. Good. You weren’t a hindrance, after all.

Leaving the goods there, he set out again, walking around this town in particular for a quick bite to eat and maybe, if luck had it in store for him, a brand new study.

It was a risk though, but he couldn’t help but be curious about places like these where life moved slowly and the residents seemed more often than not, to not quite be enjoying their lives in such areas.

A peculiar thought, perhaps. When he still worked in the city, the common narrative was to fantasise about owning property in the countryside, far away from any stress.

Maybe the lacking bustle just meant that now there was nothing left to blame, so that’s why people tended to lose themselves instead in places like these.

Kenjaku soon found himself walking into a noodle bar. It had barely caught his eye as the sheet metal sign that advertised it just over the entrance was long faded, but a blackboard outside seemed to hint at a lunch discount. Shrugging, he thought that it couldn’t be too bad. Food was food and he was hungry. so he could gamble a bite to eat.

His order was taken by a rather unkempt man which should have been his first warning about this place. Unclean fingernails and greasy hair that tied strands of hair together, oil stains that painted the man’s once white t-shirt. The udon he ordered seemed to be prepared by the same guy, who slid the bowl over the bar table.

Maybe he was going through something, which meant all the better for him. A vulnerable mind meant it was easier to break into.

Ignoring the hair he found in the broth, he reluctantly took it out and tried the dish. Not too bad, but he refrained from complaining. This strange man might just be the next case study.

“Haven’t seen you here before,” the man spoke as he threw a towel over his shoulder, planting his palms over the counter.

“Oh, I’m just passing by,” Kenjaku replied, feigning politeness. He was capable of doing so perfectly well, as long as he didn’t have to do it too often. He preferred stalking his prey however rather than mingling with it.

The man grimaced slightly at the strand of hair sitting on the napkin, but didn’t apologise for it. “So, where are you going?”

Kenjaku slurped on his noodles passively, replying between contained bites. “Probably Tokyo.”

“Probably?” the man laughed, trying to joke. “You don’t know where you’re going?”

“I’m just out on a day trip,” he replied, “the destination is a mystery, you know?”

The man quietened down after that, realising that he was talking a bit too much. It couldn’t be helped though—the place often did poorly—there were very few customers, let alone new faces that turned up each day.

Setting his chopsticks down, Kenjaku then looked around. The restaurant was small, but cosy at least. There was a distinctive humming sound coming from an old cooler that had maybe three total drinks inside. The fact that the man had very little to do, implied that the place wasn’t thriving. If he didn’t come back to work the next day, it would very likely not be immediately noticed.

“You run this place all by yourself?” Kenjaku asked, sifting through this wallet to pull out a few bills.

Taking the cash, the man shook his head. “Nah, my brother takes the evening shifts. We run it together. Used to be more popular, but there’s a population decline. More people keep leaving for the city.”

“I suppose there’s more work there,” Kenjaku speculated. For the sake of getting onto this guy’s good side to maintain the facade however, he chose to maintain his politeness while offering some sense of humour to further match the guy’s personality. “I’m still around for another day or two, make sure to stay in business.”

The guy laughed as he took back the bowl, his tone of voice sounding almost relieved, “I’ll try.”

Kenjaku pushed himself back from the stool and walked around the town to see if there would be anyone else more suitable of a candidate for the role, but it didn’t really seem to be the case. The residents in the town weren’t particularly special in any way with the occupants mostly being senior citizens and maybe a few younger people who had the misfortune of their family living here.

So perhaps the man who ran the failing noodle shop, who still found a reason to smile despite being clearly in shambles, was the next in line.

He did wonder to himself what exactly could possibly be the reason. The only hint that he had was that the guy liked to joke and shied away when there was no response. He probably had a corny reason to keep going, like seeing others smile.

Although, as he made his rounds back, he saw that the man remained unchanged from his work attire but was now standing at a bus stop. This town wasn’t too small, just empty, large enough to call for a bus route so he wondered where this man actually lived. It wasn’t too uncommon to reside in an elderly parent’s house, especially in places like these and since he worked with his sibling, he wagered it to be just that.

An amusing thought entered his mind however, as he saw him shy away from a woman waiting for the same bus. Not that she noticed it, her focus rightfully turned away from him, but he seemed to be shifting around nervously.

This gave Kenjaku a curious idea.

He was travelling with a woman, after all.

Returning back to the hotel, he noticed that you were only just now waking up. With an eye roll, he chucked the box of hair dye at you and crossed his arms, waiting for you to register what was evening happening.

“What’s this?” you asked, your voice strained with sleep.

“What does it look like?” he asked, his eyes narrowing at your silly question.

You held the box in front of you to inspect it in the dim light. It was still day, but the closed curtains made it difficult to see.

“Hair dye…?” you observed.

He smiled, finding your slow and tired mind to be entertaining. “Very good. Think you can do that now?”

“Right now?” you asked, yawning again. Your arms stretched so far that the box tumbled right out of your hand, watching as his eyes narrowed the longer he watched you.

With a firm and slow nod, he confirmed it to you, “Yes… and you’ll also change into the clothes I got you. You’re on the run, remember? You can’t look too much like yourself.”

Swinging your legs out of bed, you reached down to pick up the dye and walked over to the bathroom, pausing as he tugged on your hair to halt you in place.

“Also,” he added, “you’re getting a shorter cut. Don’t worry, I’ll entrust myself as your hairdresser, I’m sure it won’t look too bad.”

You warily laughed, trying to pry him off of your hair. You still felt off though, the very little sleep that you had doing little to soothe your still ongoing worries. “I’ll… trust you.”

Letting you go, he nodded again. As Kenjaku thought more and more about the plan, he couldn’t help but feel a bit odd about the whole thing without understanding why. It wasn’t jealousy, but something still stirred at the idea of you redirecting the ego feeding attention you were so happy to give him and putting it elsewhere.

He knew he was being irrational though; you didn’t even know about the plan just yet and he was already annoyed at you.

Shaking the thought away, Kenjaku focused more on discarding every single thing you had on your person and burning it off somewhere down the road or maybe chucking it into a dumpster somewhere once he got to the city.

As you soon emerged from the bathroom, your hair was still damp but you filled out the new clothes he got you pretty well. Something inconspicuous. Just a black long sleeve top and some jeans in a different cut from before. You still looked like yourself, but different which would hopefully be distracting enough to the untrained eye.

Slipping into his own bag, he pulled out some scissors and brought you forward, reeling you in as he tried to keep you secure. He patted his pocket for a hair tie, pulling your still wet strands back without warning.

“Hey, that hurts—“ you protested in complaint.

“Bear with it,” he tutted, rolling his eyes. You wouldn’t have been compliant either way and he didn’t want to sink too much time into doing it properly.

Cutting the ends off, he stared at the result. It was good enough, he supposed. Perhaps the colour was too eye catching, but at least people wouldn’t focus too much on the face. Given what you were wearing and how you looked when he first met you, he figured that your partner would be the type to describe you as shy and maybe even frumpy, so this sleeker appearance was doing more favours than not.

Your voice then brought him back down to earth. Surprise, surprise. More complaints. “Did you really have to take so much off?”

He glanced at the pile of hair on the floor, shrugging. “It’s easier to take care of now, be thankful.”

“Why aren’t you getting a haircut then?” you asked, attempting to sass him. He did have long hair, after all.

“Because,” he poked at your forehead yet again, enjoying messing with you, “I’m actually capable of taking care of myself.”

Besides, he wanted to continue to walk in Geto’s shoes for a while longer. It’s partially why he wanted to stop by Tokyo, loving the paradox of a cruel monk. There were some interesting prospects in the city and he wanted to secure some deals before moving further up north.

As you mourned your hair, Kenjaku took a step back, setting the scissors aside and leaned his back into the sofa. The news channels were talking all about the barbed wire shibari, his motives still speculated as unclear.

How funny.

If only they knew.

Arousal soon stirred in his trousers as more and more attention to his kill was addressed, a coiling feeling that made his cock feel hard. For a moment, he considered something darker, but he also sought your compliance for tomorrow (and for the foreseeable future) so he withheld. Excusing himself to the bathroom, he stepped into the shower and ran cold water as soon as he undressed. The running flow was loud, like crashing static and was enough to stifle away any grunts and gasps that escaped his frustrated lips.

Stepping out, he was still curious, but he had no intention of ruining the prospect of accomplishing a good study with sex that wasn’t mutual. It was surely annoying though, as the curiosity lingered. Whether or not he got to fuck or not, wasn’t an issue that he exactly cared about. Like with most of his life ideology, he preferred his actions to have meaning. Meaningless sex as a result was just what it was—boring, pointless even.

Maybe that was a him only issue to work on by himself, though. Kenjaku wondered if you would even like it or if you had been maybe put off of it thanks to whatever your boyfriend had you do with him.

Enough about that though.

He wouldn’t force your hand, it wasn’t that type of arrangement. There were more important matters to fixate on, his arousal finally melting away.

“You should sleep,” he said as he squeezed the last of the water out of his hair, throwing the towel over the sofa, “we’re getting up early tomorrow.”

“Are we leaving already?” you asked.

“Nah,” he shook his head, putting on a t-shirt, spreading himself out on the sofa, already concluding that he would sleep on it. He didn’t trust the bed in a place this run down anyway. If anyone was going to get bugs potentially crawling on them in their sleep, it wasn’t going to be him. “New case study in the works. You’re helping me.”

“Oh… okay,” you reluctantly settled into the idea, your mind still spinning from the last time you ‘helped’ him. “To study what they find meaning in, right?”

“Correct,” he replied.

“And what am I helping with?” you asked.

“You’ll be acquiring the trust of a guy I found in the town,” he yawned as he laid it out to you, “just be friendly with him, get his guard to go down—flirt if you have to.”

You frowned at the idea. “Why?”

Kenjaku shrugged. “The guy gets visibly nervous around women I’ve found. I feel like if he trusts you, then we could get him to open up more. You follow?”

You hummed, the idea of your actions leading to someone’s death still sounding foreign in concept. You weren’t terribly okay with it, despite thinking that it was all fine the last time. You already did it once, so in theory you could do so again, you just wondered when you would stop feeling so bad though.

Noticing your cold feet on the matter, Kenjaku raised an eyebrow, sitting up to study your reaction further. Initially, he wasn’t going to pry, but he couldn’t help but feel nosy, “You’re not having second thoughts… are you?”

“I-I don’t know,” you replied, your voice tinged with uncertainty. “It’s just too soon—“

“—oh, but you said you could keep up, no?” Kenjaku interjected, feeling amused by your sudden turnaround. “Are you really saying that your use for me has already run out?”

“No…” you denied, shaking your head, “that’s not what I’m saying, I…”

He tutted, unable to give into messing with you. Still so malleable, you just needed a little push into doing his dirty bidding. “I put a lot on the line for you, you know,” he leaned back, his head rolling over the pillow. “I was perfectly content with burying you, but your whining sold me.”

You took a deep breath, trying to shake off his teasing. “Do I have to kill him with my own hands?”

He smiled. So that’s what this was all about.

“You don’t have to lift a single finger,” he assured you. “Just talk with the guy. It’s not like I’m asking you to have sex with him.”

“Okay… I’ll try,” you replied, unable to not cringe at his crudeness.

Something about you surely did feel colder to him, though. You felt more distant, but he didn’t understand it completely. To him, people were relatively simple—at least usually. You seemed to be mad at yourself for something that you didn’t have to cause, was that it? Nobody forced you to give the tourist the jar full of acid nor to suggest such a method to begin with. You spoke to him with such a tone that implied that you were upset at him for something that he truthfully did very little to influence.

You were blaming him just because he was there. In the last day that he spent with you. he hadn’t done anything to you to make you feel unsafe other than retaining the general aura of unease that he passively carried.

His promise remained true: he wouldn’t kill you so long as you helped him.

And yet you were falling behind.

Kenjaku found himself disliking this sort of thought exercise, realising that you were forcing him to practise empathy. If he had to try and consider it, maybe it was just the side effect of you being both younger and naïve as a result. You seemed sheltered due to the lifestyle you had to endure before, that much wasn’t your fault. That wasn’t on you, he supposed. Jumping from an abusive domestic partner and to the side of someone like him couldn’t have been easy for anyone.

But at the core of it, whatever it was that was going on in that head of yours, wasn’t something that he should care about.

So if you were to keep winding him up with your own personal hindrances, then your usefulness was limited to him.

Once again, he asked you, “Will you keep up?”

Kenjaku stared at you, his gaze unwavering, cold and unrelenting. You were either going to keep up with him or he was going to dispose of you. It was that simple. In his carefully crafted lifestyle that he spent years cultivating where people were nothing beyond the studies they served as, there was no room for failure.

If you failed to comply, then you were defying the very cause that he sought to find answers within.

However, you then replied with a promised confirmation, “Yes. Sorry. I will.”

He watched from the sofa as you laid down to rest, still seeming exhausted, once again disregarding the concept that he could very take you out at any second, freeing you from your sorry existence if he had half a mind to do so.

Perhaps it was that jaded look you had though that stopped him.

The lack of fear missing from your face.

It was a look that he recognised quite well.

Maybe you didn’t care what he actually ended up doing, even if it did end with your body six feet under or burnt down into ashes, scattered into the back of a dumpster. Maybe you wouldn’t even care about torture inflicted on your body. Something told him deep down that such a thing was the case of you.

And that very little notion bothered him more than he cared to admit, because suddenly, he found himself being able to relate to you.

If there was no meaning to your life, then you were in the exact same boat as he was and perhaps this was something he was missing all along.

Maybe you’d both just cause each other to sink faster, but maybe—just maybe—one of you could find the lifeline instead.

But would you hold on?

…Would he?

~~~

The alarm sounded rather loudly in the morning at around eight o’clock. Given the season, it was still quite dark as well, but that was largely due to the cloudy skies. Kenjaku was able to both wake up and get up with ease, but it seemed to be a completely different story for you.

He narrowed his eyes as he turned the corner, seeing you perfectly passed out and not too different from a corpse. For a moment, he considered that you could actually be dead, but then he saw you turn onto your side.

“Up,” he firmly said, nudging at your tucked in shoulder.

You however did not immediately get up.

Kenjaku simply just sighed and stared at you with a resigned expression, tutting at the slight predicament he found himself in with you. Maybe he was just getting too old for this. How much sleep could you possibly need anyway? You were relaxing for most of the day yesterday as well.

Finally, you mumbled something in your sleep but it was far from coherent. He repeated his command a bit louder that time, finding that it only seemed to make you fall deeper asleep as your body sank even further into the mattress.

“Really?” he muttered.

He was about to tear off the covers in slight annoyance but then you finally stretched awake, yawning and still clothed. The bedding absorbed some of the dye. More to throw and burn away, he thought, but maybe after the upcoming case study, if it all goes according to plan.

“Finally,” he mumbled, watching you rise from your wake. The more he stared at you, the more irritated he got from the plan he had in mind for you, not quite understanding his own agitation.

It was as though he was pissed off at you for doing something before you even knew what you were getting yourself into.

Rationally, he knew that the blame was unjustified.

Finally out of bed, you adjusted your clothes and brushed out your hair. You still looked half asleep and in the process of waking up, but you were up and ready.

Taking a deep breath to calm himself, he walked you out of the hotel room and flipped the door sign to not be disturbed before directing you into the car.

“We’ll have to find you someone who can resemble your face card,” he said, buckling himself in. “We’ll be stopping by Tokyo, so we can find some nobody for you to become. A new name can open up more opportunities, especially since you look a bit different now.”

You simply nodded, throwing him off a little bit. Maybe you were just tired, he speculated, but the way you were acting hinted at something deeper, something cryptic that you were purposefully withholding from him. While he didn’t expect you to get chummy with him, it was a little odd that your personality was as erratic as it was.

He didn’t like it.

Being forced to care, that was.

For now he ignored that side of you, continuing to feed you information about the plan at hand and unloading as much information as possible with the hope that you could retain at least some of it.

“I’ve already been there once before,” he continued to say, “the place is usually empty from what it looks like.”

You blankly nodded once again.

“You’re keeping up with me here, right?” he asked.

You casted him a blank stare before stretching your arms out in the car, as if still exhausted. “Yeah. I’ll get the guy’s number and invite him over.”

“If you’re lucky,” he reminded you, “it might not work, but you’re likely capable of that much, aren’t you?”

“You’re putting too much faith in me,” you warned in a soft tone. You were still unsure about your indirect involvement with taking away a life despite knowing fully well what you were getting into the second you asked him to let you tag along.

Besides, if this guy was as insecure as Kenjaku made him out to be, then it had a chance to fail. As a former shy kid, you knew a little too well how it was to have low self esteem and if the man wasn’t too successful with women, then your attempt might seem mocking to him. Even cruel. He would likely be suspicious about your intentions right away.

You knew that you would be if you were in his shoes, anyway.

“Are you saying that I shouldn’t trust you with the plan?” he asked, trying to read you.

You however shook your head, shrugging your shoulders as you did so. Your answer wasn’t really all that clear. “I’m saying to keep your expectations realistic.”

He nodded too, feeling annoyed with your vagueness.

So cryptic, so cold.

So distant, almost.

Kenjaku didn’t like it anymore; he wanted that bantering, rebellious woman he met just days ago who wanted to defy all order while seeking out chaos, because that’s what drew him to you to begin with. This whole display however just felt… boring, for a lack of better words.

Just like the rest of them.

What happened to the version of you that poked fun at him or even jokingly defied him? What happened to the strange person who would feed his ego and flatter him?

Why were you… so confusing?

Was it because you were still hung up over what happened with the tourist? What was his name—Seb? Sean? …Seth? He didn’t really care to remember his name, seeing him as just another statistic in his journal of reports. Still, you shouldn’t be so upset, he thought, he was the one who endured the ugly parts after all, he was the one who studied those people, not you.

And if it was violence that you were so afraid of, then he would happily take on the responsibility of taking on the burden of dirty work forever, leaving you to play the part of someone trustworthy.

What he truly wanted from you was just someone who got it above all, someone that he could joke with and catch sass from.

(Was he lonely? Really? Him?)

How frustrating.

Try as he might, however, he could not read minds all the same. So whatever it was that was going on in that pretty head of yours was not something he knew anything about. What did you really want? And why were you being so elusive, so unclear?

Kenjaku could only sigh as he pulled into the on-street parking.

This was why he worked alone.

No mess, no overthinking the little things.

“You’ll do as you’re told,” he could only say, deciding to match you on the coldness you were giving him. You were being unfair when he was being surprisingly neutral. Ungrateful is what you were; quite literally biting the hand that kept you fed and concealed away from the chasing force that willed you back into a loveless home. Stupid girl. You didn’t understand.

“Okay,” you flatly responded.

There you went again with that bland tone, like a record playing a dull melody. Lifeless and uncaring.

Did you even want to be here?

…Did you even want to be alive?

Maybe you didn’t deserve to find meaning in your own life, after all.

Getting out of the car, he slammed the door shut and locked it as soon as you were out too, gesturing for you to follow him. The red hair looked good in the sunlight, he thought. A good decision on his part. Maybe you should be wearing glasses too to further conceal your features? On the other hand, maybe not. You were fine with how you were. They were searching for a corpse back in dirt hole you crawled out from, not a live crimson haired woman hours away from the area.

You’d be fine.

“One bowl of cold soba,” Kenjaku ordered as soon as he walked in. Despite the season, he could always go for something refreshing. He almost prayed to himself for the man to get it right and for no hair of mysterious origins to make it into the broth.

He glanced at you, waiting for you to order. It would be on the house for you, so you’d better be thankful.

“Beef udon, please,” you quietly asked a moment after reading the menu.

So quiet. So annoying. Why weren’t you being more assertive? Confident? He hated witnessing whatever it was that was going on, feeling more and more agitated the longer that he was forced to watch. Had something happened even just last night? You went to sleep after being off all day and then it somehow got worse.

Even just being in the same room as you bothered him. You sat alone at the bar stool while he sat further into the restaurant, scrolling mindlessly away on his burner phone, elusively checking on a possible son of his’ social media, his eyes narrowing as he failed to keep up with the ‘pranks’ the boy kept posting about.

Kenjaku sighed as he looked at you, after pocketing his phone as the meal was served to his table.

Tokyo could be good for a lot of reasons, he thought. It wasn’t too far away, but the current prediction seemed to be that he would stay in the south, from what he managed to get tipped off on from his moles back in the city. Besides, the city could give him more room to hide in even if he still continued to ‘study’ people, just as long as he played it carefully.

Especially since the goal was to otherwise find someone whose life you could assimilate into; maybe they wouldn’t have much going on or no immediate next of kin, which would make their search all the more delayed. Identity theft on its own was otherwise an easily enough accomplished task through paid forgery, he supposed, but there was something extra special about living on in the lives he had erased from existence.

It was like a sentimental legacy.

This would be a driving point that he would attempt to get you to understand too, like a mental initiation. The importance of both sacrifice and dedication.

It was almost symbolic, he thought.

Quickly torn away from his internal monologue, his focus was brought back to you when he heard laughter from the counter. He narrowed his sights as he leaned in and slurped on his noodles, listening in on what sounded like a genuine laugh that escaped your lips.

How odd.

Your lips were tightly curled and dimples poked at your cheeks. Your eyes squeezed into crescents—all at something the man was telling you, a smile just as bright on his face too.

Was this all an act?

No, that was an involuntary giggle; you even snorted. Something that the oaf had managed to utter left you feeling genuinely entertained.

Kenjaku then heard more.

You even called the man funny.

A compliment? Technically, he did encourage flirting, so he couldn’t be too annoyed at the delivery. That’s what your assigned role for today was. You had to get the guy to trust you so that you could lure him back into the hotel, it was that simple and yet, all it did was leave behind a strangely complicated feeling that stirred within him.

It wasn’t jealousy, he had been over this with himself already.

So what did that leave?

Whatever. It wasn’t important for now. If you were capable of completing the job successfully just as he had asked you to do, then that’s what he should be focusing on.

He wondered more about the man, he didn’t care to learn about his name, just like the others. This was subject number 15 or the restaurant worker, at best. Ordinary subjects didn’t deserve to honoured, not when their calling cards would make them so much more memorable instead.

Kenjaku tilted his head to the side, watching the interaction. He speculated that this man could technically find the reason for going in with others, perhaps. He seemed quite dim before making you laugh, after all, and now his expression was completely lit up.

An interesting specimen, indeed.

He finished up on the dish, focusing on you and ignoring him. This wasn’t envy, he thought to remind himself, as if trying to convince himself, even. Maybe it was something closer to entitlement. Whatever it was, he didn’t like that after doing everything otherwise correct at your side, that you were giving the warmth you otherwise kept locked away to a total stranger instead.

Entitlement indeed, he was a stranger to you too.

But it felt different somehow.

You then seemed to be exchanging phone numbers with the guy as he tapped the digits into your own burner phone.

Mission accomplished, he supposed.

That meant that it was a good time for him to leave then, throwing some bills at the counter as he motioned for you to follow suit. He wondered what type of relationship the guy thought you and he both had, clearly something unimportant if he thought that he was actually getting somewhere with you.

That was almost hilarious.

The drive back was in complete silence though, just like before. You were cold again.

With a weary sigh, he tried not to pay it any mind. “Text him all day if you’re able to, then invite him over for tomorrow evening.”

You nodded idly at his request with a blank look on your face.

It was then that he finally got it.

It hit him, just like that, like a sharp slap to the face.

He had seen that look after all, he even acknowledged it all the way back in the gas station.

You were simply being cold because you didn’t understand.

It was very likely a learned response from your relationship, if he had to guess. You probably just learned to bottle up your feelings and then never opened up the lid, because why would you?

Albeit reluctantly, he finally gambled a portion of his still latching shred of humanity that he had left. In a way, this was a lesson to him all the same, even if it didn’t have to resort to something violent.

While empathy was a foreign concept to him, he didn’t want to be ignored by someone that he finally found that he doesn’t mind keeping around for the long term. Being ignored hurts no matter how tough you are, he supposed and besides, it wasn’t good for his arrogance.

So for you, he would make do.

Settling in right beside you, he finally closed the gap not saying a single word and to his surprise, the tension you held onto finally seemed to sag. The stress finally seemed to melt away.

It wasn’t quite something he expected to endure, but he tolerated the sensation of you sobbing into his shoulder, trying to stifle it all at the same time.

Maybe if somebody did this for him after his first kill, he wouldn’t have become so far gone either.

So maybe you weren’t a pesky brat, nor vile, nor dumb or lacking. Just misguided, forced to endure what you shouldn’t have.

Maybe you did truly get it, after all.

What a strange sort of accomplishment he felt.

For today, he felt that he had truly learned.

If not about you, then humanity? And if not humanity, then about you?

(…About both?)

[bamsara]

A 'post-trod' scenario where Narinder gets cursed after a slip up on a crusade (death erasure is no longer a permanent threat because of plot secrets I won't spoil :P )

The Lamb can't go get the necessary crystals to cure him so Kallamar is sent instead so Lambert can focus on keeping Nari from eating/attacking people

Dw he's not gonna eat the Lamb. unless😏

[kcokaine]

Deflowering