#shinjuku kids

[fuckyeahkailan]

I havent posted in a while, im still active every waking minute tho lol.

Heres some colourful x dark duos for my lovely tumblerinas ehe (* >ω<)

[little-chaos-arts]

Thanks JJK!

I guess it's been over a week since jjk ended....wow....

I haven't been in this fandom for long, only having watched the anime in april and I couldn't wait, so I read the manga up to date in like 2 weeks....

This piece of media has had such an impact on me, pulling me in with its compelling characters I couldn't get enough of. And wherever I wished there would be a bit more interaction, a bit more emotion, someone in the fandom had created something to fill that gap.

I didn't hate the ending, yes it did leave some things to be desired but I'm happy to know the fandom has dozens of creative ways to interact with it!

[samarecharm]

Love being able to write. I can do whatever i want. I can make Ryuji interact w Lala-chan and u literally cant stop me.

[owari--hajimari]

oh my god i hated “let’s not keep her waiting” and “josh’d better watch out” SINCE WHEN DO THEY EVEN KNOW EACH OTHER. like hell joshua respects shiki like that and like hell shiki feels close enough to him to use a nickname when They Haven’t Had Even One Conversation. unless draco cantus or josh knocking her out right after counts. there were other more pressing things going on there than introductions lol

[amplexadversary]

(x)

[nyan-bynary]

SHINJUKU BATTLE CLIMAX NEXT WEEK

[yueebby]

Dying thinking about gojo literally pinning and hardcore simping for reader, literally showering reader in praise, flattery and gifts because he no longer gives a damn about hiding his feelings, almost proposing to reader whenever he can and reader's just... completely clueless about it💀 and she thinks it's just gojo being friendly. Poor man would be absolutely devastated when he goes one day "[name] i'm in love with you" and she just goes "me too, i love all my friends!" 💀

she loves me, she loves me not! — gojo satoru x fem!reader

contents. fluff, lovesick!gojo (what’s new), highschool!gojo, he’s pathetic but in love your honor, oblivious!reader, ooc gojo i got carried away soz

notes. anon, when i first read your ask i literally started giggling and kicking my feet. that. is. so. gojo coded.

“please reject gojo and put him out of his misery,” utahime implored, taking hold of both of your hands. you think she’s asking, no, begging you to. beside her, shoko nods vigorously. 

“but why?” you furrow your eyebrows, perplexed by their sudden request. “i can’t reject someone who doesn’t like me.”

shoko giggles at your comment. her laughter only wanes when she notices the dead serious look on your face. “... you seriously have no idea what we’re talking about?”

“not really,” you shrug, criss-crossing your legs to find some comfort on the hard wooden floor in shoko’s small dorm. it was late, past midnight, and the three of you had a shared mission tomorrow, but for some reason your two friends managed to rope you into their drinking circle.

utahime and shoko exchanged a significant glance, their unspoken communication raising your curiosity. utahime takes a long sip of her beer. 

“hopeless. they’re both hopeless,” your short haired brunette friend lamented, pinching her nose bridge. it leaves a faint pink mark.

intrigued, you lean in closer towards the two, “care to elaborate?”

“you’ve never once questioned satoru’s borderline inappropriate behavior?” shoko asks you earnestly. you ponder for a moment, trying to recall any moments in the two years you’ve known the snow-haired boy.

“satoru is satoru…” you mumble, shaking your head in denial. 

utahime’s eyes bug comically. she slams her can of beer harshly on the ground. you wince at the loud noise of the metallic can hitting the floor.

“you’re kidding. even i can see through that jerk!” utahime’s black pigtails sway wildly. 

“[name], how about what happened in shinjuku last week on our day off?” shoko quietly reminds you of last weekend when the two of you along with satoru and suguru decided to empty your pockets in one of tokyo’s largest entertainment wards. 

utahime’s head whips back and forth from her best friend to you, “eh? what happened?!”

from behind the dressing room curtain, you voiced your concerns, “shoko, i don't think we can afford designer clothes on our student budget.” the cream-colored silk dress you wore clung to your body, its price tag undoubtedly surpassing a year's worth of your student earnings.

“don’t worry your pretty little head about it,” shoko’s voice carried a knowing smile. “just come out and show me the dress!” you think satoru’s carefree attitude is rubbing off on her.

with a nervous sigh, you emerged from the dressing room. the dress fit like a glove, accentuating your body in just the right places.

bright flashes from shoko's phone startled you, and she chuckled deviously while rapidly typing. she tossed her phone onto a luxurious cushion, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of exposure.

“you look so sexy. even better than the model.” she gives you two thumbs up, eyes roaming your figure. you feel flushed at her praise.

“as flattered as i am, there’s no way i can afford this,” you look down at the dress, lips downturned. “i’d be in debt for life.”

“no need to worry,” shoko winked, leaving you confused. given that her income was similar to yours, it didn't make sense for her to be able to even dream of shopping designer.

a soft thud interrupted your conversation. you turn around to see a blue lollipop rolling on the expensive carpeting of the store.

“suguru, are my eyes deceiving me or is that an angel?”  satoru's mouth is wide open as he shamelessly checks you out. he takes one of his hands and places it over his heart, gripping the fabric of his white shirt. the windbreaker he is wearing rustles at his dramatic movement.

“i think… i’m experiencing a heart attack! shoko help!” he kneels in the middle of the store dramatically. shoko shares an unamused look with suguru. the pair nod before simultaneously kicking satoru.

during all of the commotion, you stand awkwardly in the million yen dress. 

“satoru, are you okay?” you watch him take the two blows from your friends, concern evident in your voice. he grunts softly before gently taking ahold of your hand.

“no,” he croaks with a playful glint in his eye. “i’m wounded and there’s only one way to fix it.”

you look at him, your gaze heavy with concern.

“i’m afraid you’ll have to kiss me for the pain to go away.” he added, blinking at you expectantly with his blue eyes.

 you lightly shove him away from you. “you’re an idiot.” satoru laughs loudly.

“that’s what love does to a man.”

“yeah, yeah. i’m going to change out of this dress, don’t get into any more trouble while i’m gone.” 

 satoru’s grip on your hand strengthens, halting your actions.

“how much?”

“excuse me?”

“the dress. how much for it?” he stands up to his full height, reminding you of the obvious height difference between the two of you. 

you're at loss for words. gojo was crazy, but definitely not crazy enough to spend a million yen on a silly dress.

shoko happily chimes into the conversation. “one million yen. it’ll be two million yen with the rest of my purchases though!” 

suguru’s calm demeanor is replaced with shock. the black haired male’s jaw drops, “two million– satoru, you’re seriously not thinking about–”

“hah? who said i’m paying for your stuff?” gojo makes an ugly face at shoko.

she raises her hands innocently, “it’s not my fault the dresses come in a set. if you want to see your beloved [name] in that dress you’ll have to pay for mine as well.”

you watch shoko and satoru engage into a silent argument. the tension in the fitting room section is so thick, you think it’ll take a special grade weapon to slice through it.

trying to alleviate the mood you tell gojo, “satoru, you really don’t have to–”

“i’m buying you that dress.” 

“o-okay.” 

half an hour later, satoru happily strolls out of the store with an arm around your shoulder like he’d just won the lottery.

perhaps gojo is just naturally flirty, you had tried to reason to shoko and utahime.

it’s been a week since the eye-opening conversation with the two and you’ve found yourself on cleaning duty with said snow-haired boy. it was a miracle that satoru even showed up. he had a tendency to skip his turns, often resulting in a long lecture from yaga.

as the two of you worked silently in the empty classroom, you couldn't help but admire the setting sun. its golden rays painted the sky with hues of pink and orange, casting a warm glow over everything. unknowingly, while you gazed at the sky, gojo's gaze was firmly fixed on you.

breaking the silence, he asked, "have you ever thought about getting married?"

his question caught you off guard, causing you to momentarily pause from wiping the windows.

“not really,” you replied, biting your lip gently. “unless my family decides to arrange a marriage. you know how unforgiving the world of jujutsu sorcery is.”

gojo's grip on the broom tightened, his eyes locking onto yours with a newfound intensity.

"we should get married y'know," he blurted out.

the piece of cloth you were using slipped from your hand in shock. surely, he couldn't mean what he was saying. after all, the two of you were only second years.

“what?”

“i’m saying i think i’m in love with you.”

“oh.” 

silence engulfs the room once more before a soft giggle escapes your lips.

satoru can only watch, entranced.

“that’s good to hear! i love you too– and suguru and shoko! perhaps the four of us should all just get married.” you chuckle into your hand.

satoru can't help but stare at your hand in envy. perhaps if he were the palm of your hand, he’d be able to feel the touch of your lips.

but he couldn’t. he was cursed as a man with an overpowered innate technique, and despite it all he couldn’t even gain the one thing he desired. gojo satoru watched you, eyes filled with a mixture of longing and defeat.

his devastation does not go unnoticed by you.

you were under the impression that he was grumpy because yaga had forced him into cleaning with you.

"cheer up, satoru! if we finish early enough," you continue, your tone highspirited, "we can go to the new crepe shop that opened last week. my treat!" you winked, and that immediately caught his attention.

“like a date?” his eyes sparkled with hope.

you shrug, a smile on your face. “i suppose if you look at it from a certain perspective…”

“great, it’s a date!” 

good things come to those who wait, satoru thinks, humming happily as he starts to sweep the room at an inhumane pace.

maybe in ten years time the two of you will be happily married with eight kids, he smiles to himself.

[boringkate]

Here’s a bunch of junk for you trans girls to watch

Update: there used to be a link to a mega folder here, but it got taken down.

///TGIRL FEATURE FILMS (alphabetical order)

Adam (2019) it's about a cis boy who's mistaken for a trans boy and rolls with it. Big cast of trans characters including a tgirl played by a tgirl who everyone wants to fuck. Directed by a trans dude. Highly legit. If you're still hung up on pre release speculation based on the novel then you're the most annoying person alive.

Assassination Nation (2018) The first half is Euphoria and the second half is The Purge. ONE OF THE BEST TGIRL MOVIES OF ALL TIME.

Bit (2019) Lesbian girl power vampire movie where the main character is a tgirl played by a tgirl. It's solid. I find it frustrating that they hint at her being trans without explicitly acknowledging it (and she's passing as fuck, so it's easy to not notice), but I know that's what some of y'all want.

Boy Meets Girl (2014) Cis dude for trans girl love story. Pretty normie, but also you see her fully naked (gock out) at the end.

Funeral Parade of Roses (1969) Extremely 60s. Cool as hell.

Lady Daddy (2010) South Korean romcom about a trans girl played by a cis girl who tries unconvincingly to back pass when she finds out she has a kid. Very cute.

Lingua Franca (2019) written directed and starring Isabel Sandoval. An undocumented trans woman immigrant in New York deals with a cis dude partner being a cis dude. Which is also the plot of The Garden Left Behind (2019).

Myra Breckinridge (1970) Raquel Welch is a trans woman and her goal is the destruction of the last vestigial traces of traditional manhood! It's Fight Club! It's Hackers! It's divisive, but it's probably my favorite movie!

So Pretty (2019) Literally the first scripted feature length (non pornographic tho it does have cock) film to feature two trans women played by trans women kissing eachother.

Something Must Break (2014) THE OTHER BEST TGIRL MOVIE OF ALL TIME. Drugs. Crimes. Gock. Slow motion pissing. Slow motion park Fucking. Genuinely the most beautiful sex scene I've seen in any movie. And she makes it to the end still alive and more sure of herself and at peace than ever.

Tangerine (2015) Groundbreaking and also a bunch of the secondary characters are real life pornstars (which I think is neat).

The Garden Left Behind (2019) This and Lingua Franca (2019) really are tgirl twin films, but (like with Antz and A Bug’s Life) the vibes and details make them distinct (I assume tho tbh I’ve never watched Antz).

///TGIRL DOCUMENTARIES

Bambi (2013) about a trans girl showgirl in 50s/60s paris

Paris is Burning (1990) basically it's Pose.

Shinjuku Boys (1995) Trans dudes working in a tokyo club that caters to tboy chasing cis girls. There's at least one trans girl in the mix too.

///FORCED FEMINIZATION

A Reflection of Fear (1972) They raised her as a girl and it made her do murders! It drags in places, but the girl in it is so ethereal and it has ageplay vibes and daddy issues.

Memory Run (1996) A very fun direct to video scifi action flick about fighting fascism by blowing up your pre transition self with a rocket launcher + it's based on a novel written by a trans woman.

She-Man A Story of Fixation (1967) Notable for being such a cliche sissy maid fantasy while also coming out so early + it was Bob Clark's first film lol.

Sleepaway Camp (1983) A more famous version of Reflection of Fear.

Surrender Dorothy (1998) A MUST WATCH. I personally bought a physical DVD and made an ISO of it for you because I was unsatisfied with the quality of the only copy that seemed to exist online. I ALSO PERSONALLY CREATED MY OWN SUBTITLES FOR IT BECAUSE EVEN THE DVD DIDN’T INCLUDE ANY! WHICH TOOK HOURS TO DO!

The Skin I Live In (2011) A rapist is kidnapped and turned into a girl by a mournful vengeful plastic surgeon. Which was also the plot of Victim (2010). I never really vibe with Pedro Almodóvar movies, but I recognize this is the preeminent forced feminization film.

///SHORT FILMS

Gender Troublemakers (1993) Some 90s Toronto trans girls fucking and discoursing. Explicit tgirl on tgirl action. This is the only one on the list that I haven’t actually watched yet. I’m hyped to watch it tho. Seems mindblowingly rad af.

Happy Birthday Marsha (2018) It's about Marsha P. Johnson.

I don't Know (1971) I'm obsessed with the trans girl in this one she just keeps popping up in all kinds of early 70s stuff. Directed by Penelope Spheeris (who is the sister of the cis gf in it).

Mesmeralda (2019) AN ABSOLUTE BANGER HOLY FUCK THE VIBES ARE OFF THE CHARTS! PLS WATCH THIS! I refuse to apologize for it being 15GB. It’s worth every byte.

Pat Rocco's Changes (1970) It's that same girl again!

Queens at Heart (1967) I can't get over that hairdresser girl thinking she's back passing. Most adorably weak boymode ever.

Shangri-La (2021) Another Isabel Sandoval joint.

The Yellow Wallpaper (2021) Freshly post op girl with a supportive boyfriend goes unhinged.

Undress Me (2012) Jana Bringlöv Ekspong did a few short films. Give janabringlove a google after watching this.

///JUST LIKE BTW

Some of these would be tough to find elsewhere, but most of the movies are also watchable on fmovies and/or can be torrented in higher quality.

After you've worked your way through the folder then just start doing Google searches for trans films. Look at IMDB keywords and letterboxd lists. There are so many more out there. These are just like my personal picks.

[strawberrystepmom]

“you only like me for my body.”

the comment is tongue in cheek, delivered with a grin by the man whose lap you straddle, his starlight locks falling across your patterned bedsheets. satoru always jokes like this. half truths hidden behind the smile that nearly puts all of the lights in shinjuku to shame.

“no,” you answer back quickly, sliding your hands up his torso and gently grabbing the sides of his head. your fingers reflexively weave through his hair, nails gently massaging his scalp just the way he likes. his mouth parts slightly and you lean downward to kiss him, pressing your chest against him.

“i love this.” you gently shake his head in your grasp. he smiles softly up at you, large hands finding the small of your back to rest there. “your mind. your imagination.”

chuckling, he rubs slow circles into your skin with his thumbs. you’re in such an intimate and compromising position he could easily do what he always does, dissuade you from discussing the things you really love about him using his fingers and tongue and the bulge your ass is cradling.

maybe he doesn’t want your gentle reassurances. maybe all he wants to be good for is his body, his power, his looks. maybe he decided a long time ago he didn’t desire to seek more than pleasure and polite distance but that was before he realized his life loses color when you aren’t around.

before you began dragging one of your hands away from his head, leaving one there to massage and care for him, pressing the flat of your palm against his chest.

“i love this too. your heart.” you smile but don’t meet his eyes, staring instead at the back of your hand. “how you pretend you don’t care but really care more than anyone i’ve ever met. about the kids, the future.”

his skin warms and his chest turns a shade of pink that matches the dusting across his cheeks and nose thanks to your affirming words. you finally look up at him, half smiling.

“about me.”

how can he deny that? satoru squeezes you in his palms and you lean forward, nuzzling into his neck.

“i love you, satoru gojo.” you kiss his jaw, fingers still massaging his scalp, one hand pressed against his rapidly beating heart. “the body is just a bonus.”

before you can take a full breath, your positions have switched and he now hovers above of you. your arm is stretched, fingers still wound through his hair, and his arms still cradle your lower back. entangled, his body and yours, merely the current vessels for two souls that were meant to spend all of space and time together.

“thanks, i like you too.”

you giggle and he lowers himself to trap you against his chest, kissing your lips with a laugh of his own.

maybe the whole vulnerability thing needs some work in this lifetime but thankfully, you both have a while to figure it out.

[kcokaine]

How are goro and daisuku doing? Didn’t daisuki have a green haired gf?

YES HER NAME IS REI AND HE IS IN LOVE WITH HER. Daisuki really doesn't like Goro (he only hears about him never finds out his name or real identity) Cuz Genki (rei's ex bf) basically beats Rei up almost killing her and scared shitless calls his big brother Goro (that he has a human trafficiking business contract with) to take care of the mess. He takes Rei into his car trunk and then tortures her for "sorcerer research" in his totally not shady warehouse in the docks. Genki changes his mind, feeling bed somehow and taking Rei out of there by asking Goro politely to leave her. Rei gets out traumatized and thats finally when Daisuki starts his batman sigma arc of avenging his gf. Rei isn't happy about it cuz Daisuki killing Genki would mean killing rest of the cult (genki has a binding vow with them that empowers him when they get hurt and Rei still takes that cult as her family, Genki or not) Daisuki is conetnt with the fact Rei will probably hate him forever for doing it but he does it anyway, tracking down genki and killing the whole cult together with Genki. They dont talk for a long while, Rei almost killing herself several times but hanging on to her life cause of a pinky promise she made with Daisuki a long time ago. Eventually they meet again and Rei forgives him and they live happily ever after, having a kid together until the whole Shinjuku thing happens and Gojo dies. Since Gojo meant alot ot Daisuki he has to take hit for the team, so he goes to shinjuku fighting Sukuna but gets turned into red mist during domain clash with weakened Sukuna. So in the end, Daisuki is the one that broke the pinky promise of not dying. Rei leaves Tokyo and lives in the outskirts Japan with her son Betsu Zenin. Rei keeps the name Zenin.

[luv4fushi]

omfg i litr read everything uve written off ur masterlist I NEED MOREEEE. i love the way u write megumi especially, i couldn’t get enough of it. i hope you write more of him, my heart aches for more tbh 🥹 tysm for being such a good writer and feeding us starved readers well

tysm! i'm sooo glad i can be a good source of megumi content for you >_< i looove writing megumi so you'll be seeing sooo much more of him, dw! happy holidays!

this december

jjk fushiguro megumi x fem!reader

it’s always colder on your own, especially around this time of year. you should be at home, bundled up with a warm cup of hot chocolate, but here you are in shinjuku, exorcizing curses with your ex boyfriend two weeks after your breakup with him. great.

content: post break up, aged up megumi (19/20), megumi is terrible at feelings, getting back together, fluff if you squint, a bit of angst, miscommunication, one bed (but it isn’t the main plot point sorry), megumi calls you baby like once, gojo is the best wingman, SHIBUYA ARC NEVER HAPPENED AND LIFE IS GOOD, not proofread im very sorry guys pls forgive me, kinda a word dump sry

word count: 5.8k (sigh this was supposed to be 2k words max)

click on my masterlist for more & merry christmas to those who celebrate!

it’s december 19th when satoru gojo tells you that he has a mission just for you. you’re less than ecstatic about it to say the least. the last thing you want to do is be sent to your death just shy of christmas day. you just want to rest your sore muscles and bask in the presence of your best friends. you’re not in the mood to kill any curses, mainly because you’ve just recovered from a previous mission.

“why me?” you groan.

gone are the days where you used to be a goody two shoes for satoru. you’re old enough to talk back now, not like when you had been a shy fifteen-year-old girl. besides, you’ve been around the silver-haired sorcerer long enough to know that he doesn’t mind the bite.

“sorry, kid,” satoru says with a shrug. at least he sounds genuine about it. “the higher ups requested for you specifically. they say you’ll get the job done in the cleanest way. we can’t have things getting messy before the holidays, right?”

“and you wouldn’t be the best choice?” you quip.

satoru only laughs. he ruffles your hair. even with your growth spurt and merciless training, he still towers over you. in a way, he’ll always be your mentor. “hey, i’m going out of town that weekend. give me a break.”

you huff petulantly. something about this mission seems fishy to you. you’re not nearly the strongest sorcerer out of the bunch of kids under satoru’s wings (not that you guys are kids anymore, but sometimes it’s hard to feel otherwise). hell, there’s the kyoto students. it feels like they never have to do anything. you wish that you were rebellious enough to chew utahime out for it.

“why couldn’t they just make yuta or megumi go?” you mutter under your breath. you stammer out megumi’s name and hope satoru doesn’t catch on to the way you can barely say it.

satoru knows about the breakup. why wouldn’t he? he’s basically megumi’s dad, even if the raven haired boy refuses to admit it. satoru’s six eyes mean you can’t hide anything from him (he’d been the first to know that megumi was head over heels for you).

satoru raises a brow. “oh, right. megumi’s coming along too.”

your face twists and you immediately whip around to glare at him. “you’re lying.”

“i wish,” he jokes. “i was really hoping i’d get a wedding invitation one day, you little rascal. i can’t believe you two broke up. maybe this’ll be a good thing!”

“i appreciate your honesty, but—”

“but megumi’s an emotionally constipated kid, yeah, that i know,” satoru laughs. he makes his way to the exit of his office which has you furrowing your brows. is your former teacher actually gonna just leave after making you come all the way here? how rude and so very in character of him.

“please, gojo,” you call out after him, “i don’t wanna go with him.”

“sucks for you,” satoru responds halfheartedly. “merry christmas. try not to take more than a week on this. you’ll have to pay the rest of the fee for accommodations if you do.”

“gojo!” you whine.

“it’s not a hard mission!” satoru insists like it’ll make your life any easier. “y’know, this time of year is when things get ugly. think of it as saving as many people as you can while putting in the least amount of effort!”

and then he teleports. your former teacher teleports away rather than being normal and walking out of the door. you roll your eyes and hope that he can sense it (you know he can’t).

so that’s why you’re here now. with your ex. on the elevator to your assigned room on the tenth floor. you’re so glad that it’s a normal hotel and not a love hotel. lord knows what you’d do if you had checked into a love hotel.

megumi hasn’t spoken a word to you since he broke up with you two weeks ago. it had been in the doorway to your apartment a few days after a particularly rough mission assigned to the both of you—the one you’re still recovering from. he’d pulled you in for a hug, whispering sweet words into your ear. he gave you a look, one of those looks that made him soften his usually sharp eyes.

“i think we should break up.”

and then came the pathetic whimper of yours. he had wiped your tears, even kissed them tenderly, before telling you that it wasn’t your fault—it was his. how cliche.

now as you stand next to him, you want to beat yourself up for not asking for closure. neither of you had explicitly stated that you two were going to be no-contact, but it hurts a lot less to push the idea of forever with megumi away to the back of your mind. besides, you two aren’t confrontational like that. not with each other, anyway.

“need help?” his tone is soft, tender—the tone he reserves specifically for you, the one that tells you he still cares.

you stare down at the luggage at your feet. you’ve always been a chronic overpacker, a habit that megumi knows of by now. he watches you curiously, hands itching at his sides. you can tell that he wants to reach out and grab your suitcase like he always does. he thinks he isn’t obvious, but you can always read through the lines, especially when it’s megumi.

“i’m okay,” you croak out, clearing your throat awkwardly.

the elevator dings and you make your way to your room. as much as you hate to admit it, you’re sort of glad that you and your ex boyfriend are sharing a room. perhaps his’ll be a good way to get closure, though you’re not really sure what closure entails.

what you don’t expect is to unlock the door and be met with a singular bed.

if satoru gojo didn’t have a layer of infinity coating his body (and if he wasn’t the strongest sorcerer alive), you would’ve wrung out his neck.

megumi simply walks into the room, setting his duffel bag down on one of the dressers opposite from the foot of the bed. he doesn’t comment on the lack of double beds, seemingly already aware of the set up.all he does is puff out a weary sigh. you suck in a breath and follow him inside, slipping your shoes off at the entrance.

you lug your suitcase in after you along with your duffel bag and backpack. you stumble forward and megumi’s arm snakes around your waist, steadying you.

“careful,” he mutters, nonchalantly taking your bag off our your shoulders.

it’s a quick series of movements; he swings your bag over his shoulders and places it on the dresser next to the one he’s claimed while guiding you softly to the side of the bed so that you’re not standing in the middle of the doorway.

you scrunch your face, feeling your heart thump against your ribcage. it’s stupid how he still has such a hold on you, even after two weeks of not seeing or talking to him. he’s just so caring, so gentle. it stings, like little the little cuts you get when fighting curses, when you realize that this is something you’ll have to learn how to lose.

“thanks,” you manage to mutter. you don’t trust yourself to say anything else. you know from the way your throat tightens that you’ll be crying soon if you force yourself to talk any more.

“i can take the couch,” megumi says.

it’s that easy with him; he’s a gentleman, so of course he’d take the couch. that’s the way megumi fushiguro is—he offers a solution before you even have the chance to complain. in your year and a half long relationship, that skill of his had been a saving grace.

“no, don’t bother,” you croak. “i’ll book another room.”

“really?” he asks. he stands up a little straighter, awkwardly reaching up to scratch the back of his neck. “i mean, i don’t mind sharing a room with you… we’ve..”

we’ve shared a room countless of times before.

megumi doesn’t have to continue his sentence for you to understand what he’s implying. you part your lips to speak, but nothing comes out except for a long, heavy sigh. your shoulders drop as you let the exhaustion seep into your bones. there’s no use arguing about it, not when you don't’ mind sharing a room with megumi, either.

“we’ve broken up,” you remind him in a quiet voice, like you’re afraid saying it out loud will make it truer than it already is.

megumi pauses. you see his adam’s apple bob as he swallows thickly. “i know that, but … it’ll be fine. we’ve shared a room as friends before.”

he’s right, like he usually is. you two have shared a room before as just friends, but that had been as teenagers—back when you both harbored such hardcore crushes on each other that you two somehow didn’t notice.

“right,” you find yourself agreeing with a small nod.

“you should go get ready for bed.” megumi begins grabbing a few or the decorative pillow off of the bed. he places them gingerly on the brown couch tucked in the corner of the hotel room. “we’ll be getting up pretty early to deal with the brunt of the mission.”

to finish this mission as quickly as possible, you think.

and so you oblige and head to the bathroom. it’s december 19th, just a few days shy of christmas day, and you’re in bed with your ex boyfriend on the couch just a few feet away.

december 20th greets you with megumi hovering over you. he peers down at you with his messy bangs covering his eyes. they’re piercingly blue as he blinks. his lashes flutter perfectly, even in the early morning. your eyes meet his and you jolt awake.

“good morning,” he says. “your alarm has been ringing for a bit now, so i turned it off.”

you blink rapidly, getting the tiredness out of your eyes. “oh.”

he chuckles softly, just enough for you to catch it with your ears. he rises from his crouched position and heads to the front door. he spares you a glance over his shoulder before he heads out, presumably giving you the privacy you need. you let out a strangled breath before you swing your legs over the bed and head to the bathroom.

by the time you’re finished putting on your uniform, you swing the door to your hotel room open and see megumi leaned up against the wall, tapping away on his phone. his dark blue eyes flicker up to you and he turns away to head down the hall.

you furrow your brows. you can’t help but think that he’s being a little cold to you. it isn’t like you initiated the breakup. despite your frustration with his behavior, you can sort of understand why he wouldn’t want to be sweet around you; you two aren’t dating anymore and so it makes sense that he’d go back to being aloof in your presence, the usual way he acts around everyone else. losing that position in his life makes your stomach churn for reasons you’re less than willing to uncover.

your mission is a vague one; all you know is that it’s a clean-up mission. rather than a level 1 curse (or even a special grade), the mission consists of an acclimation of weak curses surrounding shinjuku. these missions are normally given to younger, more inexperienced sorcerers with the help of a senior sorcerer, but for an odd reason, it’s been given to you and megumi this year. megumi could’ve probably handled it himself. actually, you could’ve handled it yourself.

you bite your tongue to hold back on your complaints as you walk just a step behind megumi. he pauses regularly, waiting for you to catch up to his side. you roll your eyes in secret. does he not realize that you don’t want to walk next to him?

“it’s all just bars,” you mutter.

with that, you earn a tiny laugh from megumi. “well, yeah. this is the red-light district of shinjuku.”

you pale. “this sucks.”

“why do you think i wanted to come out here in the morning rather than at night?” he says, his tone strangely light.

“to deal with the brunt of the mission,” you repeat his words from last night sarcastically. you’re unsure as to what he’s talking about, so you think that it’s okay to give him a little bit of attitude.

he raises his brow but doesn’t comment on your sarcasm. instead, he says softly, “no, stupid. it’s because this is the red-light district. it’s unsafe for anyone, especially a pretty, young girl alone at night.”

your first thought is to coo and tease him. you think i’m pretty? it takes you half a second to remember that you two are broken up. you scoff, “i’m perfectly capable of handling myself.”

“i never said you weren’t,” megumi shoots back. “it would just be annoying explaining to the higher ups why you were fighting people and not curses.”

“i’m sure they’d understand,” you retort, frowning. you cross your arms.

“don’t be so pouty,” he says in that stupid, gentle tone he uses with you when you’re acting bratty.

you both decide to split up. well, it’s more like you demand the two of you to split up. you say it under the pretense that it’ll get the job done faster. besides, you both want to be home before christmas day, right?

there’s about two curses you cross paths with every hour. you’re starting to lose your mind. shouldn’t the streets be infested with them? you don’t even need a veil! all you have to do is give the weak curses just one punch and they vaporize on the spot. your head is running with hundreds of thoughts.

that’s when it hits you: the first years at the tokyo jujutsu school did come out here a week prior! maybe they did a bad job? but you remember nobara had been the one to lead the group. she may half-ass almost everything in her life, but she wouldn’t jeopardize her underclassmen for the sake of her freetime.

so why on earth are you here? it’s not like there are enough harmful curses for a mission to be assigned to you right before christmas, and to you and megumi of all sorcerers. you’re both strong enough to the point of having some kind of importance in the jujutsu world. the higher ups wouldn’t send the two of you on some stupid mission for the sake of it unless they’re planning some sort of secret execution. but even then, satoru gojo should’ve known through their lies to not send you or megumi. unless…he wants you two dead…?

you shake your head and bite your nails. the sun begins to set and you realize that you’ve been out here for longer than you expected. you’re starting to feel a chill in your bones—you had argued petulantly with megumi earlier about not wanting to wear your jacket despite it being the dead of winter; “it’s gonna get in the way!”

you always seem to forget the the sun sets earlier in the winter. it’s stupid how bright all the lights are in shinjuku. there isn’t a square foot of anything that isn’t lit up with neon signs reading out the names of clubs and bars. you see couples and large groups of people walking along the streets.

it’s lonely, you realize. it would’ve been less lonely with megumi.

you make your way to the meeting spot with megumi. you both share a few small words before retiring for the night. megumi says he wants to go sightseeing, even though there’s really nothing much to see. he doesn’t return to the hotel room until late at night.

when he slips into the only bed that the room offers, you chalk it up to the slight alcohol you smell on his lips. it feels so natural that you don’t push him away even though you should. his body is warm and you fit so perfectly against his broad chest that you think it’ll be okay for you to be a little selfish tonight.

“g’night,” megumi mumbles in his sleep.

you smile and nuzzle closer.

it’s december 21st as you realize how late it is in the day. megumi is back on the couch. you feel a tinge of disappointment in the bottom of your stomach.

to no one’s surprise, the sun is barely peeking over the buildings when you’re finally back in the red-light district. you’re doing the last bit of cleanup, but there’s really nothing much for you to clean.

tomorrow, you’ll be heading to a shopping mall, so you suppose you should do your best to sniff out the rest of the curses littering the place unless you want to stay here an extra day. the day is, yet again, slow.

it’s nearing 8 PM and you're finally sure that you’ve gotten rid of all the curses in the general area. you’ve been done for quite a while now, but you just haven’t found the courage to let megumi know that you’re ready to go back to the hotel room. a little sightseeing on your end wouldn’t hurt, right?

“hi, pretty.” a gravelly voice, battered by cigarettes, whispers in your ear.

you jump in surprise. you need to remember not to get too far into your head. you should’ve felt his presence coming from a mile away. it’s a terrible habit and satoru has scolded you for years about it.

“hi,” you mutter, pushing past his larger frame.

the man isn’t as nicely built as the men you know (but then again, your friends are jujutsu sorcerers, so it’s kind of hard to beat that), but he still towers over you. he’s got a squad of rough-looking guys behind him, smirking down at you.

“why’s someone like you alone?” he says, shoving his arm to loop around your waist.

you roll your eyes, getting ready to punch the man square in the nose. will you get in trouble? probably yes. will it be a funny story to tell? also probably yes.

“don’t touch my wife.”

the group of men turn their heads along with you to see megumi. his expression is shrouded with a mixture of anger and frustration. you blink in confusion—megumi usually looks pretty pissed off, but this is the most angry you’ve seen him in a while. and ‘wife’? what’s up with that?

“oh, my bad,” the man chuckles. “didn’t know this pretty thing was married.”

“this ‘pretty thing’ wants you to let her go,” you say with an overly sweet smile. your teeth clench and you hiss, “right now.”

the guy scurries down the sidewalk with his buddies trailing along, making fun of him for hitting on a married woman. nobody mentions the lack of a ring on your finger. nobody mentions the lack of a relationship, either.

“wife?” you scowl. “we’re broken up.”

“guys tend to back up when they know a woman is married. it’s the only way you can really, uh, get them to go away around here.”

you glare at him. “and how would you know? you come here often with girls?”

“...no?” he blinks, unable to comprehend your sudden burst of jealousy. “i sometimes get missions around here, though. pretending to be married was the easiest way—”

“we aren’t, though. we’re not even in a relationship.” you seem to be throwing that into his face a lot more than you should. you can’t help it, though. you still feel a little bitter about not getting a real reason as to why megumi wanted to break up.

“i was trying to help you.” he’s calm and collected, as heard through his voice. he walks up to you and takes your freezing hand into his much warmer ones. “let’s go home.”

“i don’t want to,” you argue.

“stop being a brat,” he says, but there’s no bite to his words. “you’re cold and you’ve been out here all day. if i hadn’t stopped those guys, you probably would’ve beat them up pretty badly.”

“i’m not a fucking brat!” you try to retract your hand, but megumi’s grip only tightens.

“baby, stop,” the pet name rolls off his tongue with ease. megumi sighs softly and pulls you to his chest. “why are you so worked up, hm?”

from the way he speaks, you can tell that he already has an inkling. the breakup. cuddling last night. hugging you now. everything.

you don’t realize you’re crying until he gently wipes his thumb under your eye. he has the audacity to have an amused grin plastered on his stupidly pretty lips. your vision is blurry but if it hadn’t been, you would’ve thrown a punch.

“i’m sorry,” he whispers into your hair. “it’s all my fault.”

“it is,” you whimper pathetically. all the tears and the emotions you’ve been holding back bubble up to the surface.

“don’t be upset,” he almost pleads. “let’s go back, okay?”

the night ends with megumi on the couch. neither of you bring up the argument or the fact that he had slept in your bed with you last night. you two don’t talk about the usage of pet names, either.

when you open your eyes on december 22nd, you’re surprised to see that megumi has already headed out for the day. you click your tongue in annoyance—he’s always been good at avoiding his problems when it comes to dealing with them, especially problems involving his emotions. you already know where you’re supposed to be headed, so you suppose that it’s for the best that he’d left before you.

the shopping mall is a long line of vendors and stores among other things. the snow on the ground is fresh—it must’ve snowed late last night after you’d fallen asleep. it crunches underneath your beat-up sneakers with each step you take. you’re not shocked when you end up wandering aimlessly, dipping in and out of stores with no real urgency to finish your mission.

there’s nothing to do anyway.

you’ve killed about 3 curses total and it’s really starting to look like you’ve been sent out here for busy work. you really should’ve figured that out the first day of the mission when you had to practically beg the curses to come out and fight you.

you find yourself in the front of a jewelry store, eyeing a pretty bracelet that you know would look stunning around megumi’s wrist. it’s one of those bracelets that clasp tightly. there’s a thicker band in the center with pretty carvings that seem to resemble some sort of swirly heart. it’s pretty, you have to admit.

without much thought, you buy the gift.

the seller has to clear her throat to get your attention when you don’t answer her question. “um, would you like this to be wrapped?”

you nod absentmindedly. “oh, yes. sorry. please wrap it.”

she nods in return and proceeds to wrap the bracelet in a tiny box, adorning it with a festive bow. you ask her to change it out for a different color, explaining that it isn’t a christmas gift and instead, it’s for someone’s birthday. she offers you a warm smile before switching it with a muted blue ribbon.

you return to the hotel, having to take an expensive taxi. you don’t mind—the bracelet has already made a decent-sized dent in your wallet. why not spend an extra amount on getting home? it’s not like jujutsu sorcerers are paid poorly.

reality hits you when you finally get back to the hotel room. you want to punch yourself for being so stupid. did you really just buy a birthday present for your ex-boyfriend?

you’re thankful that megumi hasn’t arrived yet. he seems to be determined to avoid you for as long as he can. you can’t blame him, either. you did give him quite a hard time yesterday.

you toss the box on to the dresser and head to the bathroom to splash some much needed cold water on to your face. maybe that’ll wake you up enough to clear your mind. you’ve acted out once during this trip already and you’re not really looking forward to any other possible outbursts.

you rinse your face and pat yourself dry with one of the face towels provided to you by the hotel staff. you hang it over the rack again and tiredly make your way to your bed. you halt your movements when you see megumi standing by the dresser, admiring your gift.

he looks up at you in surprise with the smallest grin on his face. it’s so subtle that you would’ve missed it had you not been dating him for nearly two years.

“is this for me?”

“no,” you quickly deny. his face falls and you cough out, “um, i mean.. yeah. i-i didn’t… i… happy birthday.”

he brightens, lips pulling up into a real, genuine smile. “you remembered?”

“why wouldn’t i?” you blurt gently. you bite your inner cheek to stop yourself from saying anything more.

“i dunno.” his voice is distant and low, like he’s trying to hold back his tears. “i just…i didn’t think i was deserving of a gift from you. thank you. i like it.”

you stand awkwardly, shifting your weight onto your other foot. “yeah, well…”

“can you help me put it on?” he asks, sitting at the edge of your unmade bed.

you feel your body heat up. part of you screams for you to stop. you shouldn’t do that. it’s far too intimate and you two are broken up. you’ve never been good at making decisions, though, so you sit next to him and feel the mattress dip.

he gives you a grateful look, one that you willfully ignore, and gives you his wrist. you clasp the bracelet on, fingertips just barely grazing his skin. your heart skips a beat and you have to inhale sharply before pulling away.

“thank you,” he whispers.

december 23rd is a sore reminder that life goes on. you had half-expected something to spark between you and megumi. perhaps he’d beg for you back, or maybe with less wishful thinking, he’d give you his real reason as to why he doesn’t want you anymore.

“i don’t think we need to go anymore,” megumi says when you come out of the bathroom after freshening up.

“huh? why not?”

“there’s nothing out there.” megumi’s voice is flat.

“i know, but we’ll get in trouble if we…”

“gojo probably sent us out here for fun.”

your lips part. megumi turns to you with a slight frown.

“don’t you think so too?” he asks, but you know it isn’t a question he’s looking to find an answer to. “why would the higher-ups assign a mission like this to a special grade sorcerer and a grade 1 sorcerer? if they needed that much manpower, this mission would’ve been deadlier. instead, we’re playing cleanup crew.”

“yeah, but..” you trail off, unable to think of a statement to refute his words. “if we go back now, we’ll get chewed out.”

“it’s just a scolding. you’ll be fine.” megumi stands up and stretches his arms.

you watch him cautiously as he begins to fold his clothes and throw them into his duffel bag. he doesn’t say anything else, letting the silence overtake the room.

“...are we leaving, then?” you ask meekly, not bothering to hide the slight quiver in your voice.

he pauses slightly. “do you want to stay here until christmas? this mission is stupid and you know it. there’s no point.”

why is his tone so cold all of the sudden? it’s as if you two hadn’t shared a moment last night before bed. does your gift not mean anything to him now that he’s cleared his mind with a good rest?

your eyes flicker to his wrist. the gold glimmers underneath the light and you realize that megumi doesn’t seem to hate wearing it. so why is he acting so … unpleasant?

you feel a lump in your throat. it’s embarrassing how quickly he’s able to upset you from just the tone of his voice. even his body language, usually fluid and smooth, is rigid with your presence. you want to tell him that you’ve enjoyed your time with him. you want to shake his shoulders and tell him that if you two cut your mission short, you might not get another chance to be near him again.

“do you still care about me?” you whisper instead.

he stills completely. “what?”

“this entire time,” you begin shakily, “you’ve been nice to me. you treat me like you always do. you’re always hovering over me even though you pretend you aren’t! you obviously still care, megumi.”

his adam's apple bobs as swallows. a beat of silence. then two. then three.

“i do care,” he admits sorely.

“then why did you break up with me?” you blurt. there it is, the question you’ve been meaning to ask. you both had seen it coming.

“because…” megumi winces as if he’s the one getting hurt from the ordeal. “because you deserve someone that’s normal. someone that isn’t a sorcerer. i can’t give you that life.”

you feel your chest swarm with anger. why does he always think he needs to sabotage himself to make others happy? this is something you’ve tried working with him on, but it seems like old habits are hard to kill off, just like your habit of loving him.

“why the hell would you decide that for me? when did i ever say i wanted a normal life?” you snap. your hands clench at your sides.

“it’s too early for this,” he says, his voice straining as he finally musters up the strength to look at you in your eyes.

“tell me, megumi. if that’s the real reason, then that is the most pathetic excuse for a breakup i've ever heard.” your voice cracks and you gulp down the oncoming sob that’s threatening to explode from your throat.

he inhales slowly and makes his way to you, holding you close against his chest. you should push him away, but you would rather let him hug you. you know that you can’t fight him, anyway.

“you…once said you wanted a regular relationship. when you got hurt a few weeks ago, i realized i couldn’t be that for you,” he confesses lowly. “i knew that you’d never find it in yourself to leave, so i figured i should just let you go for your sa–”

“are you kidding me?” you shout incredulously. “i said that when i was fifteen, megumi! before i even knew what being in love was like!”

he flinches against you. “but i…”

“you and your damn savior complex! i don’t need to be in a regular, normal relationship! i don’t need any of that, megumi! i’m a sorcerer, I won't ever get to be normal! in fact, it’s even better that i’m with you because you at least know what this life is like, you idiot! you’re always ruining the good things in your life because you—”

he takes his fingers to grab your chin and he pulls you in for a kiss. if the kiss is a ploy to shut you up, you hate to admit that it’s working. his tongue slips into your mouth and you melt against him. your arms loop around his neck as you desperately drag him down closer to your body. his hand grip your waist while the other clings to the small of your back.

you whimper out of instinct and he pulls away, lips bruised and breathless. it’s been so long since you’ve tasted him and you frown, tiptoeing to capture his lips again. you need to savor him, to feel him lips against yours again.

“baby, wait.” his chest heaves as he looks down at you. “don’t…don’t do this to me.”

“do what?” you ask, an edge to your voice. did he just reject you? even after all that?

“w-we gotta report back to—”

“we’re supposed to leave tomorrow,” you interrupt.

the gears shift in his head. “fine, but—”

“i’m still really fucking mad, but i just need you to kiss me right now,” you whine impatiently.

all megumi does is laugh when he swoops down to press his lips against yours.

it’s december 24th when you two find yourselves in satoru’s office. steam is practically rising from your ears as you try to compose yourself in front of your former teacher.

“... i wanted a wedding invitation.” satoru shrugs.

“you set us up!” you whine angrily. “gojo, are you serious?! isn’t this a little immature?”

megumi stays silent, averting his gaze. he suddenly finds the succulents on satoru’s desk very interesting. he’s never noticed that they’re all nearly dead! how cool.

your eyes shoot daggers at megumi's silence.

"we aren't gonna get married any time soon..." megumi mutters when he feels your pointy glare on him.

satoru raises his hands in mock surrender. “you two can’t blame me! it worked out! you two are back together now, right?”

“but did you have to make us look like fools out there?” you groan.

“you should’ve figured it out on the first day that the mission was a sham!” satoru exclaims, offense taking over his features.

“but still!” you’re borderline hysterical at this point, unable to believe that your former teacher of all people had to set up an entire fake mission so that you and your ex could talk your feelings out. “we would’ve figured ourselves out sooner or later!”

megumi nods. he feels like he should at least give you a little support even if he’s embarrassed out of his mind.

“oh really?” satoru’s voice drips with sarcasm. “you guys should be thanking me—”

“you’re so not getting an invitation to our wedding!” you grumble.

“wha—hey! i’m the one that got you two back together! besides, i’m megumi’s guardian! you can’t just not invite me.”

“watch me!”

“megumi, tell her that she can’t do that—hey! where are you guys going? invite me, you rascals—why are you guys leaving? we aren’t done discussing this! megumi, don’t you dare take her side! she isn’t even your wife yet—don’t slam my door!”

[hai7ani]

a sequel (kind of) to Stay

you see Ran again for the first time in 10 years after he left home.

it's a Wednesday night in Shinjuku, when you are out shopping for a new scarf and window shopping on some possible presents for Christmas. it's particularly chilly today and the streets are more packed than usual 一 probably because the festive season is coming up (very soon) and people are out shopping just like you.

and then you see him, out the window of Family Mart when you were browsing for some rice balls as a snack. he's still so tall, a lot fitter now, and he's got a new haircut you didn't think he would actually go for, but you still recognise him nonetheless. the mole on his neck close to his Adam's apple and the many rings he still wears on his fingers makes you smile. he still likes to sit cross legged despite your nagging for him to stop from a slip disc many, many years ago.

Nii-chan is still the same.

you grab a bottle of Ayataka off the shelf and a box of chocolate you think works just fine. you ask the employee for a pen and rip a sticky note off the Post-It you like carrying with you.

/

Ran smells something familiar.

he blows out the smoke from his mouth and puts the cigarette a little further from him to sniff the air a few times. it gets stronger, and then a pair of ballet flats appear in his view on the floor.

"Haitani Ran?"

his world stops spinning.

"it is you!" you grin. "i wasn't sure because of your..." you want to say silly as a tease. "new, haircut."

you catch the way he tries to discreetly put away the cigarette and stomps on it, leaves his foot there to keep anymore smell from spreading, gently fanning the air around to get the smell away. he thinks it's cute that you are trying to talk to him without making it obvious that you know each other very closely, like blood.

you play with your fingers when he doesn't say a thing, but his eyes shift lower, lower, and lower, and then he sees it.

the bump on your belly, and a little girl hiding behind your legs, holding a bunny that drowns him in so much nostalgia the moment he laid eyes on it.

"oh! she's my neighbour's kid. i'm looking after her tonight, her parents aren't around."

he knows it's a lie 一 of course he does, and you know he knows. she shares so much resemblance with you two together. "Mama, don't lie." her tiny voice is muffled with your dress and you panic, trying to laugh it off and stop her from fussing, and he laughs quietly.

you introduce her then. Maya, you say. she is 4, and a very stubborn girl. she likes bunnies and the colour red. she's got a sharp mouth and very into space.

"here," you grab the Ayataka and Meiji from your bag and hand it to him. "please take it. we haven't seen each other in so long, count it as my treat tonight." you smile warmly, the crescents of your eyes making him feel at peace, and he takes it from your hands.

he looks at the box you played with a while ago and finds a piece of paper slipped into it with the chocolate itself.

"it's okay," he makes a motion around you both with his index finger. "he's clear," he nudges his chin to a man sitting in a black, shiny Bentley parked a few metres away, and he is watching all of you intensely. there is another woman sitting in the passenger fixing her lipstick through a Dior pocket mirror. "but thank you."

when you wave goodbye and make little Maya say goodnight, he gets into his car and opens the box of chocolate, fishing for the piece of paper out.

he sees that it's not just a paper, but an ultrasound 一 a foetus at six months old 一 and he flips it to the back.

'For Uncle Ran.'

/

Rindou is busy washing the dishes when you wrap your arms around his waist unexpectedly.

"what's got you so happy? you sound kinda insane." he asks. oh, right. you've been giggling to yourself ever since he came back home and Maya was begging for her Dad to pick her up in near tears because she thinks Mom is being weird.

"no, it's nothing." you cover your mouth and try to stop yourself from laughing any more. you're still smiling, though. "it's just..."

"i saw Nii-chan today."

he freezes. "really?"

"yeah. and you know what else i saw?" a laugh.

"he cut his hair," you make Rindou face you and show him just how short it was with your own hair, "this short!" another laugh.

"you remember the last time i tried to make him cut his hair? he locked himself in his room the whole day because i picked up a pair of scissors! i was going to open a bag of chips!"

"and, he was in a suit. it looked expensive, and it's purple. he hated wearing suits. i can't believe that man got him to wear one now."

you go on and on laughing about Ran to Rindou, the dishes long forgotten in the sink. the younger listens and laughs with you.

and if you would've taken the time to stop laughing like a maniac and look out the window to your right, you'd see the same Bentley parked right outside your apartment complex with the windows rolled down.

Ran smiles whenever the two of you would laugh.

next to the window of your kitchen is a little girl standing in front of her own. one hand holding a bunny, the other holding her weight as she leans on the glass a little.

and she waves. shows him her bunny and then her snaggle-tooth that she actually hates, but adores now that the purple-haired man who looks a lot like her father shows off his own to her.

"Maya... and Sana," he whispers. "yeah. that's nice."

you've always been a fan of these two names when you were younger, almost having change your government name to one of it out of impulse.

and the car leaves just when little Maya waves goodbye and waddles away.

"Merry Christmas, you three."

[sincerelyamee]

Looking for JJK x reader that has a little (or a lot) more than smut? More fun and plots? I've got something cooking for you. Click on the titles to go to AO3:

1. Your Life as a Tokyo Jujutsu High Background Student (Reader Insert)

Fix-it/Retelling of JJK (covering the light novels, JJK0, JJK), fluff, humor, hurt/comfort, found family; canon-compliant until the Shibuya Incident; everyone survives; gender-neutral & chaotic reader; reader x JJK characters relationships are fully developed - either platonic or romantic-leaning; rated mature for language & dark themes; non-smut.

2. Divine Ruination (Reader Insert)

Primarily Sukuna x Reader; fluff, humor, hurt/comfort, smut with plot; enemies to lovers with a dash of amnesia & Stockholm syndrome; he fell first, he fell harder; canon-divergent featuring the Culling Game & Shinjuku Showdown arcs; female & chaotic reader; rated mature for smut, language, & dark themes.

3. The Zen'in Curse (Reader Insert)

Nanami x Reader & Haibara x Reader; fluff, humor, hurt/comfort; female & chaotic reader; slow burn; canon-divergent; story set before the Hidden Inventory arc; featuring bestie!Shoko, childhood-sweetheart!Gojo, & mentor!Kusakabe, rated mature for language & dark themes; non-smut.

4. A Family of Villain (Sashisu Defect AU)

Gojo/Shoko/Geto defecting together with the kids after Geto went bananas at that village; fluff, humor, found family; slow burn; slice of life; non-smut.

[satocidal]

𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳ * ࣭ “Stacey’s Mom has got it going on” — Gojo Satoru

Synopsis: You can’t help eyeing your daughter’s pretty boyfriend when he’s just so sweet, and he can’t help himself either when you’re the best he would ever find.

— word count: 4.2k

— A/n: idk if this qualifies as dc (I don’t think so) but it has like, idk age gap and cheating concepts so take care

— warnings: smut!! MDNI!! Age gap (Gojo is 20 and you’re bordering late 30s); cheating; sort of asshole representative? But how else would something like this work; hair pulling; body worshipping; oral (f! Receiving); dub-con (slightly?); Satoru is a shit boyfriend to your daughter; hinted domestic abuse; mentions of scars; almost subby! Satoru? (There’s no definite concept of who’s dominant- and if satoru then a lot of soft dom); slight spitting; riding; simultaneous orgasm

21-7, Shinjuku 3-chome, Shinjyuku, Tokyo.

He had the address memorised, down to the number of windows in your house and the exact shade of the monotonous white your husband had deemed “minimalist”.

19 he was now, you stood at an elegant 37—arriving in the vicinity at an estimated 5 years ago, your husband’s property, he’d guessed.

Gojo Satoru was 14 when he first saw you, puberty making its way into the young boy’s mind—you did none but encourage the certain downfall in the way you tapped his cheek when he offered to help you in carrying the many bags.

Over the years, Satoru saw you a lot, and also, didn’t at all.

Satoru saw you in the afternoon haze, dealing with the heat—staring obnoxiously when you took off your floral shirts, standing in front of him in those tight leggings and tank tops—but he also saw you at times that you didn’t know about.

And when he didn’t see you physically, you were present on his mind.

At least up until his 18th birthday, you knew of his presence when he would come to meet you.

What had begun as an innocent tap on his cheek for being adorable had developed into an innocent friendship on your accords, smiling wide every few months when he would zoom past your house on his cycle.

The routine was simple then, left-right-right-left, 15 minutes of a way from his house, and there he would be, at your gate—somehow always when you had grocery to carry.

The routine was simple now too, 11 p.m. he would sneak out of his dorm room, a smirk on his face as he used his infinity—making his way into your house, all so quietly, to watch your pretty face as you slept—sometimes even snickering when he caught you being fucked by your husband, snickering at that bored expression on your face, knowing just how much better he could treat you.

He’d never been inside however, general courtesy to be shown, not as a kid—never yet as an adult.

Back then you’d giggled when a 17 year old Gojo had brought his shy friend to meet you, both their cycles parked outside your house as you tended to their boyish smirks, he doubted you’d giggle knowing that the same friend, Geto, was the one he sent your pictures to when he found you sleeping.

But Satoru wasn’t dumb, he knew you’d realise at some point and so, he did what he had to.

In his head, it was all your fault too, so oblivious to everything that he had to choose the second best, your daughter.

“I know she’s like hot and what not but you gotta let her go dude,” Suguru’s voice was a drag—partially dry from all the alcohol he’d consumed.

Satoru’s 20th birthday was approaching, a week left, the celebrations of course had to last a month.

Satoru chuckled beside his best friend—almost wasted he noted—“it’s not like I wanna fuck her or something,” he grinned, he knew wanted to, he knew he possibly couldn’t, “it’s just, I could treat her so much better you know? That stupid little house-”

Suguru smirked, “-don’t bring money into it you pervert,” his eyes bore into his best friend’s, “her daughter ain’t that bad ya know,”

Satoru snorted at that, “which is exactly why I went for her too,”

Just at that, Geto snorted too—mindlessly, shamelessly, both of them.

-ring!!

Slow, both their eyes panned onto Satoru’s phone, ‘my love’ the screen flashed, Suguru snorted again, “Ironic,”

With a roll of his eyes and a short smirk, he shook his head—knowing she’d only be calling because she was needy, at least that’s all he remembered her to be.

“Mmhmm baby, gonna drop by in half an hour yeah? Yeah, yeah, miss you too, bye,”

He always sounded sweet- that was what your daughter rambled about, Satoru Gojo was the sweetest guy ever, and you were glad mostly, a little jealous? You weren’t sure.

It just wasn’t something you ever had.

As Satoru got up to leave though—“you ever let your girl go though, hit me up alright?”

Satoru eyed his best friend with a grin- that was something he could do—“have our own fucked up family eh?”

“Satoru?” You smiled, “long time honey,”

‘For you’, he thought, smiling smugly, “I keep you in well wishes all the time so, not so much Ma’am,”

You chuckled at his words—ever the gentleman he’d been, “that’s adorable, is that how you charmed my daughter too?”

His heart ached at that—only a little however, no, it was all only for you, all the charm—all for his only woman.

Thoughts flashed onto his own girlfriend, he remembered the night well—it wasn’t much, her 16th birthday, he’d just turned 17 too— he’d dropped by, getting you those medicines you’d requested a week or so ago—they were only found near his vicinity, he could only oblige.

Curiosity often killed ended up killing the cat.

-

He’d racked his brain, he thought of it for endless nights—he didn’t want to accept it, not so easily, not when you made it seem simple.

Each of what you’d asked him to get was a pain killer.

He’d disliked your husband before, but since after, he was sure he hated him.

That night, he’d sat outside your house with your daughter, she was smoking—he was used to it, he hated the smell.

“Aren’t you too young to be smoking?” He’d teased, exactly how he used to Suguru and Shoko—except she didn’t entertain the jokes, never had, never would.

However, before a mean retort could fall off of her lips, a crash sounded all too loud.

Not accidental, Satoru knew that.

He was quick to get up, he was no hero, but his life be sworn if he let you suffer such—a hand held him back.

“Don’t get into it,” she warned, your daughter did.

He didn’t, it wasn’t his place to.

Your husband cheated that night, as he had countlessly, your daughter found her first boyfriend—you wept that night, Satoru’s heart did too.

-

“Can’t lie I keep a special bank reserved for my uh…mature ladies,” a wink he passed, he made you feel young, alive.

A shake of a head you passed and a knowing laugh.

You noted his lingering gaze, the bruise on your forearm ever present, never you said a word- never him.

The silence engulfing and nauseating.

“Your uh,” his words were rough, “anniversary yeah? Round the corner isn’t it?”

You giggled, almost as if it mattered, “So he remembers? And your own, isn’t it?” A look of slight confusion masked your face, he grinned, “a week after yours, it’s my birthday though, on the same day that is, you always mess it up,”

An apologetic smile you passed this time around, “why, I’m sorry, let me make up by baking you a pie honey?”

A thin smile adorned his face—shaking his head, he ushered you back in, waiting patiently for your daughter to bounce back, to remind him of his reality.

But just as you did turn, “wait, by the way,” his eyes lay stuck upon the bruises you didn’t care to hide, “how’re things going?”

His eyes gazed upon the sheer material of your shirt, “how’s…Mr Y/l/n?”

Almost a sneer, as if, you stared, “perfectly fine, Toru—how’re things with Y/d/n?”

He stared blankly this time around—“perfectly fine Ma’am.”

-

“Pass me the lighter,”

Satoru stared at his best friend’s outstretched hands—your daughter’s pretty smile as she handed him hers—the same smile that had intrigued Satoru to even look at her, the only feature on her face that resembled you.

“What are your plans for the anniversary?” The words registered in Satoru’s ears—he wasn’t sure who the speaker was, he didn’t exactly care, “I could help around your house,” a mutter, as if unsure to why—but certain that he wanted to.

Cocked brows looked at him confused, “…isn’t it your 20th birthday though?”

He nodded.

“Who wastes their 20th birthday helping around random houses?” Suguru’s tone was almost annoyed, as if he knew—or could’ve guessed why.

Satoru’s girlfriend laughed, “You know he’s screwed a little right? Can’t stop him if he doesn’t want to,”

Satoru nodded again—it gutted him onto how well she bothered to know him—and yet, he perhaps didn’t even bother knowing her favourites most of the time.

“No no,” head shaking, a grimace fell onto Suguru’s face, “pretty boy here can do whatever he wants,” a knowing look they both passed—“but 20s don’t happen again, go big or go home,”

Satoru chuckled, of course he had it all planned out, “I’m going big and going home,”

Another charming smile, another wink—just something you couldn’t become a fool too.

A slight frown rested on your lips, “You sure hon? You don’t have to waste your evening like this…”

It was almost motherly, the way you showed concern—in ways Satoru had barely experienced.

He scoffed, “Time well spent is never wasted,”

“You’re going to mow a lawn baby,” you chuckled, “y/d/n isn’t home either- you know her sleepover- I don’t see how-”

“-anything to please and help you is almost the best kind of work I could do,” you’d have smiled usually, at his words—a tiny flirt you always deemed him—laughing about it to your husband, even though he barely cared.

You didn’t care of it either, an empty marriage, so be it—hollowed from both ends, slow.

But this time, this was different.

This time you’d perhaps bask in his help—no husband to taunt by complimenting little Satoru, no daughter to tease by complimenting little Satoru.

Satoru wasn’t all so little, you realised—your daughter and husband weren’t home—just you, Satoru and his praises.

-

6 p.m. — 7 p.m. — 8 p.m.

Satoru didn’t remember a time to the when he’d done all so much work for his own mother- but he was content, with a pair of earphones and a creative little mind, he was intent to impress you.

It amused him, to actually how big of a lawn you actually did have—and he wondered at the almost pristine look of it if you managed it yourself.

Even if you did, he would be your helping hand now—he grinned ear to ear as he thought the countless many scenarios.

‘Desperate’ , a little voice in his head called—“my pretty good boy” your voice, the one you used in his thoughts, fought away all doubts.

But all to quick his train of thoughts paused, “you missed a spot there Toru’”

And most of the time, he’d be pissed on to anyone who dared to correct him—with you he’d nod obediently and carry on—but normally, even your normally, you didn’t step out in front of him in just a small, pretty pink towel wrapped around you.

Satoru Gojo had pretty eyes, a decent imagination too—he’d thought about you plenty of times.

Naked, spread open, on your knees, having him between your knees—many and every and any position but absolutely nothing could’ve compared to the way seeing you covered just enough—in a small towel got him hard.

Satoru Gojo had pretty eyes and for a second they were wide as saucers.

His eyes panned onto the spot you pointed at—he had indeed missed a spot—he nodded slowly.

The music rang in his ears—

Stacy's mom has got it goin' on

Stacy's mom has got it goin' on

Ironic.

“I’ll get to it, going for a bath?”

It shouldn’t have been that casual—him asking you your schedule such—you let it be so.

“It’s getting late, want to stay the night? And yeah—yeah, a bath,”

Stay the night.

There the offer lay and his temptation—he watched the careless way you held the towel, all so small that decency was the only thing that stopped him from staring shamelessly at your exposed thigh.

“I don’t know-”

An attempt, simply a stupid attempt to save him and you—“-I insist and what song is that?”

He stared blankly, “Stacey’s mom,”

“How I love that song,”

Of course you did- he watched you walk away as the song continued playing.

Stacy, do you remember when I mowed your lawn?

Your mom came out with just a towel on

I could tell she liked me from the way she stared

And the way she said

"You missed a spot over there"

Down the drain, his character, perhaps yours—then relationships you’d held, everything.

Another nod.

-

“I’m staying the night Suguru,”

“Hah?!”

An eye roll, an obnoxiously pitched questionnaire, “The fuck? It’s your damn birthday tomorrow—why did you make me get that damn cake?”

Jaw clenched, he stared at the recently mowed lawn—10:00 p.m.

It was too late.

“Better get a taste of her damn pussy if you’re staying the night fucker,”

Satoru shook his head, a smile, “Shut up, talk about her nicely,”

“I’ll talk to her nicely when your girlfriend talks to me nicely when I’m dicking her down, really got yourself a brat huh?”

The smirk was evident in his tone- Satoru wanted to feel betrayed, he couldn’t.

“You’re such a bloody fucker,” he muttered through, “Take care of her,”

“Always have—you take care of her damn mom,”

And he always had too.

-

10:15 p.m.

He found it simply, weird, that you were in the shower all so long—shaving?

It was your anniversary tomorrow, a loyal wife, a good wife—you’d present yourself well—he thought.

He wasn’t entirely wrong either, was he?

Foggy, your bathroom mirrors stood as you prepared yourself just right, shaven smooth—a guilty heart panged in your chest.

You watched the many scars lingered upon your body, natural, provided—all yours and you doubted it, doubted the mere fact that Satoru would even think about touching you the way you fantasised.

It was wrong—just a fortnight ago and he was the sweet boy you used to adore and having by, just a week ago he was the boyfriend of your daughter that made your relationship all the more insecure, just tonight he was growing into his age.

Head hung back, you stared at the ceiling- so wrong and so right.

Almost melancholic, your train of thoughts was, and his too as he sat by the window of your room—“Please clean these windows too,” you’d said with a smile, breasts pushed together as you held your hand in front of you—the little pink towel did nothing, you knew that.

His hard-on was obvious, you’d had that effect on guys all the time—but then, maybe it wasn’t for you, maybe he just saw the sight and it reminded him of- maybe-

“God~ fuck-!”

Your ears perked up, maybe that was a moan.

Not maybe, it was—it was all too certain a breathy moan.

And before the better judgement was to be passed, there you were, the pink towel wrapped around all the more perversely as you twisted the knob of the door—entering your room to the prettiest sight in a while that you’d seen.

“Satoru?”

Eyes all so wide, the ministrations came to an immediate halt—“Mrs- Mrs- I- shit,”

You watched him scramble about, struggling to get the pants that he’d pulled down to his ankles, back in place—pale cheeks tinted with the embarrassment he held-“I’ll leave right now,” and you knew your figure standing about, almost naked, did not help.

A giggle you passed, “Satoru, it’s fine baby, what’re you so embarrassed about?”

That, he didn’t expect, neither did you.

A low ‘huh’ dropped from his mouth,a hardened cock hanging out for you to ogle at.

“Yes I mean,” you continued, slowly moving towards him, “it’s all…natural isn’t it? You’re a big boy now too,” your voice was sweet as honey, pulling him, reeling him in.

He watched, estranged, as you swayed your hips, moving in, pulling him—pushing him and there he lay in your bed.

Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.

“Tell me Satoru,” you whispered, nimble fingers grasping the hem that covered you—“are you all grown up? Still my big boy?”

A silent nod, your towel fell.

A smile etched across your face as you saw his mouth widen-“l-like what you see?”

A slight stutter, you were nervous too—just as him.

And it was entirely a surprise to you then, when his were the hands that grasped your hips rough—flipping the both of you over so he was on top.

Lips attached to your neck—his hands ran wild as they explored every bit of you—“So much, so so much, you’re gorgeous,”

Frenzied moans, hefty touches—it was almost as he’d been dying to touch you—and he had.

His lips moved fast—faster than his fingers, moving across every inch of you—a slight tingle you felt as wet and sloppy kisses he left across your shoulder blades, your hands tugging at the white tuft of his hair.

“So soft,” he murmured against your skin— “so fuckin pretty,” he was skillfull, almost, in the way he managed to completely disregard your needs in the moment.

Not a single brush of his fingers or crotch against your pussy—a tease.

You wanted to cry, pleasure hit you hard—and in the way he lingered seconds too long upon every scar that your husband had given you, at every bruise that you held—in the way he handled you so carefully, not as if you were fragile but as if you were his desire personified.

“Tell me, Satoru,” you snickered, at the breathy moans he let out, “how long have you waited for this,”

“Forever,” he breathed out—the crystal blue eyes finally met you then, “God forbid I just- please, please let me?” A whine he let out still, so desperate.

“Always this needy hm?”

He shook his head fast, “Only for you,”

And you knew that just there he was begging all so easily.

“Please- ple-ase,” his voice was a drag, as if afraid that he’d lose this moment all so soon, “please let me…let me touch you- feel you,”

A twinkle in your eye, “if you’re good, yeah?”

He bobbed his head at that- “on your knees for me baby,”

And that he did, so obedient, “Show me how much you’ve yearned,”

It was a dynamic, if anything—you held the control surely, and you lay naked too—sprawled out as your head rested upon the pillows steadily, his between the plush of your thighs.

An airy gasp you let out as you felt him spit upon it, “fuck you’re glistening,” he whined, “So wet from just the thought of me?”

You felt his fingers spread your folds out, he felt so cold against the warmth of your pussy, “Didn’t even need me to spit huh? But had to mark you didn’t I? Remind you that I am the one who gets you this way- has your husband ever gotten you this way huh?”

His words seemed almost feral, a growl with every word as he kept lowering his head— he focused upon your clit.

Your legs lay spread wide open for him, one his hands resting upon your thigh, rubbing soft soothing circles—while the hand finger fucked you.

His finger slipped in so easily, a groan both of you let out together, “so fucking warm I- your pussy’s pratically begging to be ruined,”

You squirmed at his words—already dumb at the way his middle and ring finger pumped inside of you,

“More please,” you moaned out, “need more,”

A smirk he held as he lowered his lips, nipping at your pussy lips, “More what Ma’am? More of what hm?”

A loud whine you let out at his word- “Fuck Toru’ not tonight, please just touch me—want you,”

Enough encouragement, in fact it was all he needed before landing his tongue flat upon your clit, swiping it back and forth upon the little nub.

“Scream my name please,” rough hands pulled at your legs—resisting you from closing your legs—“Arch your back and scream my name, let your neighbours know I’m the one in your silly fucked marriage that gets you so worked up and not that fucker,”

His words barely registered in your head—thrashing at the liable pleasure he held onto you, “Sh-it Toru’ I- right there! Yes please,”

He grinned as he looked up at your face briefly, before diving right back in, suckling at your hardened clit as his fingers prepared your cunt to be ruined by his cock.

“God I should film you being so needy for me,” another groan as his tongue lapped upon your core—“should teach em how to please the perfection you are,”

You whimpered at his words, eyes rolling back at the way he provided just the right kind of pressure- until you weren’t.

A loud whine and groan as he pulled out of your cunt, he grinned, “Want you to cum on my cock when you do — wanna feel you clamp down hard,”

You looked into his eyes, hesitant? Neither of you.

“Taste yourself,” and before you could pull away, shoved into your mouth were his two fingers as you sucked onto it—“Fuckin’ delicious,” he muttered as he pulled away the fingers too.

Needy, he wanted you needy.

Slow, he moved about, rising about and pulling you with him as he kissed your arms—“someday, I’ll leave such pretty marks on you, those are the ones you deserve,”

You bit your lips hard- he did too, as you straddled his lap—“please,” he whimpered and you giggled, “how many times do you think about this?”

All the time.

Any and everytime he was alone, just you on his cock bouncing to chase your euphoria.

You cupped his face as you stared at him, such a pretty innocent look he held—you grinned devilishly as you lined your entrance upon his tip.

"yeah. 'think about it a lot. want you to use me, please, just have me. i'm y — ohhh god, oh fuck me, y-yes please — fuck i'm yours!" his words, bound to be a mess now that you've lowered yourself to meet level with his cock.

It throbbed inside you, it looked so pretty, when you imagined sucking on it— with that curve you always felt pressing against your walls when he would be balls deep inside your pussy- just as now.

“Tell me Toru,” you but down in your lips hard, red, “how many times do you think?”

He gulped hard as he watched you move, unable to hold himself as your warmth spread all over his cock, “J-just some- sometimes, when I- I miss you, when I c-can’t get enou- oh god- can’t get enough,”

He moaned softly, head fallen aback and eyes shut close as you rode him slow, rolling your hips—it took your all to just not give in and fuck yourself dunb over his cock.

“In the shower…after- after practice,”

You giggled at his words, oh how you felt like a filthy girl in the moment, “all sweaty and dirty? Think bout fuckin me in shower?”

“Yeah…” his voice lay a rasp, “think bout you when I’m alone,”

Your words, actions—he was dizzy with pleasure, legs squirming beneath you—toes curling in pleasure and hips stuttering as he reeled in for more.

“Think of you when I fuck your daughter too,” and just at that he thrusted harshly into you, gripping your hips as he moved you fast—“you’re too slow,” he grunted.

A low moan escaped you at his words—him too.

Filthy.

Wrong.

You didn’t care.

"d-you think of me too, when- when you can’t touch it? When it- it d-doesn’t feel right?" his question almost sounded innocent, eager to hear your response.

"Course’ i do. think about my pretty boy all the time. i miss this cock so bad sometimes, 'can't get off the same with any of my toys."

He groaned at that—you could feel him twitching inside you.

11:55 p.m.

You weren’t sure when or how you lost all that time- it didn’t matter.

It was your anniversary in 5 minutes and his birthday.

Your hands grabbed his face and pulled him close—your boobs thrusted into his face, “cum with me ok? Hold on just a pretty while yeah?”

Your words were a lullaby to him, he nodded mindlessly, attaching his lips onto your nipples, swiping his tongue over your nipples.

Your soaking cunt engulfed his cock as you bounced upon it, head hung back as you chased your high—his hands kneaded your skin—one pinching your nipples while the other massaged your ass.

If you could, you’d have seen the adoration in his eyes as you fucked your self onto him—breathy moans and shy grunts, the smell of your sex wafted through the air.

Just another minute.

“S-So good to me-” He stutters, nails latching onto your skin to bounce you more aggressively on his cock as his flustered state slowly dissipates.

So close, both of you—a babbling mess underneath you,Satoru was purely pussy drunk—and just like that, the clock strung 12:00 a.m.

You both drew each other’s orgasm.

You stay there on top of him for a second, panting and heaving you both lay—nuzzling as his fingers drew circles on the small of your back.

Circles, you weren’t aware, those circles were actually his name crafted carefully upon your skin for he knew you were finally his.

“You good?”

A slight smile on your face as you asked him, he lay beside you in your bed—“Happy Birthday Toru,”

“Best birthday I’ve had,”

All of this work is entirely original and my own—please refrain from copying or reposting.

Likes and Reblogs highly appreciated!

— Taglist: @illogicallyx @rizzmin @immurrsed @bbytamaki @abitoldschool

[esggs]

Masterlist

some of my work contains adult and uncomfortable stuff. please proceed at your own discretion.

fic requests are open! do drop an ask, your thoughts, or just a hello! i love talking to people here <3

yours, mana xoxoxo

s - smut, a- angst, f- fluff, personal favourites- 🥚

Jujutsu Kaisen

Noritoshi Kamo

The Homo Economicus in Love - (s, a, f) - | Impacts of income inequality on unethical college love, a thesis paper, aka 'i was just a bet?' trope| 🥚

#1 - Operation Kamo | college majors

Obeisance to the Arrow (s, a, f) - | arranged marriage with Noritoshi Kamo, and all that entails... |

#1 - Omiai | #2 : The Ring Ceremony | #3 - Menarche | #4 - Cursed Bride | #4.5 - Sweet Dreams | #5 - Man and Wife and the concept art | #6 - Husbandly Duties | #7 - Jealousy, Jealousy | #8 - Ice-Cream Date | #9 : The Lady Kamo

+ drabbles, arranged according to the timeline

How Was Noritoshi Kamo Found To Have Blood Manipulation?  - (a, f)

Hey Handsome! - (a, f) - | Noritoshi gets hit on, right in front of you |

The Question of Heirs - (f) - | Noritoshi Kamo, concussed, talks about having kids |

An Inkling of Refuge - (a, f, hurt/comfort) - | After the massacre at Shinjuku, each other is all you have left |

[finding out that you're pregnant] - (f)

Echo - (a, f, hurt/comfort) - | When your kids inherit the Ten Shadows, Megumi Fushiguro gets to meet Divine Dog White again after 16 years| 🥚

Ryomen Sukuna

Priestess (s) - | Lord Sukuna rewards his most devoted follower |

lord!sukuna x knight!reader 1 (a, f, s) - | Cannibalism done right | 🥚

lord!sukuna x knight!reader 2 (a, f, s) - | Sukuna takes another knight|

sukuna x possessed!reader (a, f, s) - | Demonic possession <3 |

Martial arts coach! Sukuna (a, f, s) - |God-complex maniacs pining for each other| 🥚

cottagecore!Sukuna (a, f) - | Sukuna cooks for you |

"romance" (f) - | English language tutor |

Choso Kamo

Kill The Damned Phone (s, f) - | a lazy morning fu-- dammit the phone keeps ringing! |

choso x geto!kenjaku (a, f, s) - | cult leader x altar boy | 🥚

Suguru Geto

quick fic (f) - | your teen daughter wants to start dating |

cult leader!geto x secretary! reader (s, f)

ragdoll runt (a, f, s ) - | geto, weeks before defecting| 🥚

Satosugu

5 : 14 AM (a, f) - | satoru wants suguru to quit smoking |

underground boxer!geto x always-bets-on-him!gojo (a, f)

Nanami Kento

quick fic (s, f) - | Nanami Kento doesn’t know your real name, only your touch |

tired manager!nanami x kpop idol!reader (f)

Shoko Ieiri

dealer!shoko x reader (a, s) 🥚

Higuruma Hiromi

swipe that nose like a credit card (s, f) - | riding his face <3 |

Satoru Gojo

Satoru at rest (a, s, f) - | your terrible ex-boyfriend is having way too much fun haunting you |

Can't get it up (s, f)

[mojogojocasahouse]

Literally can't get the thought out of my head that Gojo would fall for his hairdresser because they're the only person who touches him consistently. So, here it is.

Satoru Gojo x f!hairdresser reader

C: Gojo POV, fluff, a little sprinkle of angst

He didn’t mean to fall in love. He really didn’t.

In fact, Satoru Gojo had sworn it off entirely in his third year of high school outside a KFC in Shinjuku. That evening, with every step back towards Jujutsu Tech, his tears turned to cement around his heart, barricading it behind a fortress never to be broken. That had been the plan anyway.

But you’d foiled it.

It was just a series of unfortunate coincidences that had led him straight to the very depths of hell that felt way more like heaven than he wanted to admit. His normal barber had been out of town, but his hair was growing too long against his neck. It itched as it began to curl behind his ears, it reminded him of his teenage years, and Megumi had started poking fun at him. So, he’d wandered into the salon by the apartment he barely used and asked if anyone had time for a quick cut, an action he’d thought was inconsequential. 

There was no way to decipher exactly what it was that had left him slack-jawed and boneless in those thirty minutes. Maybe it had been how your fingers combed through his wet hair so gently, swirling against his scalp and loosening tension he swore was permanent. The way you’d softly turned and tipped his chin as you inspected your work and perfected every unruly tuft of snowy hair, your gaze too focused on the task to see how utterly enraptured he’d been. He’d caught you on the tips of your toes, his height still too great even with the chair as low as it allowed, so he’d slowly slunk down, his spine curling uncomfortably. He hadn’t cared about the ache. There was also a good chance he’d fallen when you mussed up the finished product, smiling into your eyes as you complimented how well he pulled off the messy look, your palms pressed to his head as you held him. Held him.

He’d never gone back to his barber again

After a year of monthly cuts and trims, he upped his frequency. One night after a mission that had tested every ounce of his resolve and patience, he’d wandered in and pathetically asked for just a quick wash. He’d noted how your eyebrows furrowed in what looked like concern, a warm hand on his back leading him to the waiting area, and a promise that you’d be no longer than ten minutes allowing his chest to loosen just enough to breathe.

Soothing circles over his temples had eased his headache, the warm water and your methodical movements lulling him into tranquility. You’d taken extra care, kneading down his neck and feathering over his eyes until he’d been half asleep, his tension swirling down the drain. Never in his life had he wanted to kiss someone as badly as in the moment his eyes fluttered open to your smiling face.

He was never the same after that.

Today is like every other, Megumi at his side as they make their way to the cafe after a mission the kid wasn’t supposed to go on. Whatever, he’d be starting at Jujutsu Tech in a few years, there was no reason to not give him a headstart. 

His height gives him the advantage, and when he spots you across the street he practically sends Megumi crashing to the sidewalk as he whirls to hide his face, fumbling with the glasses in his pocket and ripping the white bandages covering his eyes off his face. 

“What the hell is your problem?” Megumi barks, scowling in annoyance as Satoru slides his round black lenses onto his thin, pointed nose, “Why’re you changing your glasses?”

“Satoru?” Your voice sings out to him even on the crowded Tokyo streets, he can hear it clear as day. 

You’re right in front of him now, hair shining in the sun, eyes twinkling with that happy little grin he sees in his dreams. It’s unfair how happy you always look to see him. The thought that you might be is always his undoing.

“Hi,” he greets sheepishly, chastising himself for how stupid he knows he sounds, “What’re you–”

Whatever idiotic sentence he was set to spew is cut short when you reach up toward his head, and he doesn’t even realize he’s closing the distance your toes can’t reach. A little gasp of shock gets caught in Megumi’s throat as his face twists in confusion when you make contact, plucking a small pink cherry blossom petal from its icy entrapment. He can’t stop himself when his hand catches yours as you pull away, his eyes locked on the fragile, blushing scale between your fingers.

His technique had been active, he couldn’t even recall switching it off. But he had, clearly. Had it become an instinctual flip at the mere sight of you, a second nature? Warmth blossoms in his chest and radiates outward, it’s like the feeling of sun on a cold winter day. Even without looking at your face, he knows you’re confused, who wouldn’t be? You don’t understand the weight of this, no one does except the teenager standing behind him looking on at the scene.

Spring becomes summer when your other hand covers his, it’s shaking ever so slightly and he can’t bear the thought of looking at your face. Are you afraid? He couldn’t blame you. But he forgets that worry when you whisper his name again, nothing but a song in the breeze so quiet it only has the strength to reach his ears. He’s kissing your knuckles before his brain catches up, it’s too lost in thought, in you, in the smell of your floral perfume he’s come to associate with comfort and security. And when you don’t pull away he considers that perhaps his life doesn’t have to be shrouded in darkness.

“Hey,” the gruff voice of Megumi groans out, “How about instead of being a creep you just ask her to dinner?”

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