#shut up junpei

[ebbing-terror]

IT'S YOUR BIRTHDAY, BOOGIE WOOGIE!!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!

"Buh..."

Just like that, a few words brought Junpei to break out into a cold sweat. His chest was stomped, weighed down by the memory of a certain brute who was associated with that god-awful term. The kid was having an intense fit of PTBWD.

Post Tramatic Boogie Woogie Disorder.

No..Never...Never again...It was so humiliating...He didn't even have time to think as he was whaled on like never before. Fucking hell...That bastard could've given Mahito a run for his money...His only means for defense was constantly snatched away from him, replaced by a ruthless onslaught of punches aimed to pulverize a confession out of him...His brain had gotten knocked around, his ability to think effectively obliterated to the point he couldn't even answer that guy's invasive question even if he wanted to. One second, Moon Dregs was infront of him, then in a blink of an eye he was far away and Todo was right there, busting his face over and over....

He could still feel the nerves deep in his side twist from where he accidentally stabbed himself with his own Shikigami in a failed attempt to skewer his opponent...

Never had Junpei experienced such crippling indignity....He was made into a complete fucking fool in that battle- if you could even call it that.

Never again...Never again....

Anyone who went slinging about that stupid phrase deserved a jab of poison...

Junpei shuddered, his clanmy hands clenching into fists at his sides, his breathing growing more audible and Lynn took notice.

"Oh no.."

She rushed to her friend's side, soothingly rubbing his back just as she had when she came to the rescue, saving Junpei from that jock.

"Shh, Shh...It's okay, Jun...I won't let that gorilla hurt you again..." She promised, clasping her hands over Junpei's ears.

"We don't use the B.W word in this house..."

《《XD Sorry, the opportunity presented itself! xD I seriously need to finish writing that ficlet of Todo VS Junpei. BUT THANK YOU SO MUCH I HAD A WONDERFUL BIRTHDAY 🥺🥺🥺💜💜💜 Every day is special bc u are my special~ uwu ✨️✨️✨️》》

[sylvanfreckles]

Oh, man. I started playing Persona 3 Reload, and can I just say?

SHUT UP JUNPEI! JUST SHUT UP! SHUT UP!

[hinamie]

I don't want to regret the way I lived

[kayzero]

Chapter 49: Pathogen (Infection)

So no, you’re not righteous. But you’re not arrogant enough to put yourself above the whole planet. …Your brother, though.

Read on AO3.

...and when you're done click next chapter so you can read

Chapter 50: Confession (Judgment)

The victims' names escape you, but the similarity of the first murder to the exact same crime your father was executed for caught your attention, and you followed the serial killer’s actions as they were discovered for four months, right up to Phi showing up. And now the serial killer sits before you, asleep.

Read on AO3.

[maskyartist]

Once i start drawing mine n my wife's p3 Big Brother Junpei AU ur fucked

[newnevermind-sanity]

The only response after some years after the events of p3

Original Audio from Leverage

[jeremyrennerofficial]

One more image dump- commissions my brother and I got and also cool Yume Nikki print 😎

[sheaymin]

highlight of my entire month & a very early birthday gift to me because i was able to snag this p3p game stop iirc preorder junpei hat someone was reselling up on mercari. first time ive ever seen it up for resale at ALL so like i had to have it. && rOARS naturally i grabbed my well loved copy of p3p & the jp guide for some photos. it’s so cool to have this little piece of p3 merch history & now it’s reunited with a copy of p3p :’)

[broshot]

part 2 of chubby chaser men in jjk!! part 1 here read part 1 first (this has the same cws/tws)

check end for more notes!

---

yuuji itadori

okay we all know his type "tall girls with big butts" but who said he didn't like chubby women too?

this man would be head over heels for his chubby girl, literally. he worships the ground you walk on but he worships you even more! he's your personal hypeman and will literally compliment you first thing in the morning. he'll compliment you all the time.

for example he'll say "yooo the most gorgeous girl ever is here!" when you arrive to class or "who told you to look this perfect every day." there's not a moment where he doesn't compliment you. he loves seeing you smile and tries his best to make you smile around him. he loves you so much and wants you to know that.

if you decide to wear clothes that are revealing or show your body a bit more, he'll lose it. you look absolutely breathtaking and he won't shut up about it. you don't even have time to think about any insecurities that you might have because he's complimenting you each and every second he can.

will have his hands on you at all times (unless you tell him no), will hold your hand or have a hand on your thigh or on your back. loves pinching the sides of your stomach and waist because they're so lovely and soft, he loves it. he loves playing with your boobs too but not in public (since that's a bit too perverted in his opinion).

his favorite position? all of them. his favorite position changes every time but he'll never miss a chance to eat you out. "suffocate me with your thighs," he says half-jokingly. no but seriously, he loves everything about you.

---

nanami kento

this man is 100% a chubby woman enjoyer, sorry I don't make the rules!

he loves coming home after a long, exhausting day and just running into your arms to cuddle (or make love ;). he loves hugging you and holding your hand. he loves making you sit on his lap as he hugs you and kisses you and compliments you. he wants you to play with his hair because it makes him calm down. loves laying on your lap because it's just so soft and comfortable!!

he buys you gifts, from your favorite flowers to pretty jewelry that you saw on your walk around the city with him. he loves buying you beautiful dresses and making you feel beautiful (because you are).

if you want to show off your body by wearing tight or revealing clothing he's absolutely going to hype you up (he always does). he's so in love with you, all of you.

his favourite position is missionary. he loves seeing your face and your gorgeous body as he fucks into you. he always has to be touching you with his hands when you two have sex. he'll have his hands on your waist, softly pinching the softness and just holding you in place. he wants to make you feel good too because you deserve it, will prioritize your pleasure over his because you deserve the absolute best and only that, nothing less.

---

junpei yoshino

this man needs more love but oh my god he has a lot of love to give (to you) too. he loves chubby women. end of story.

he loves cuddling you more than anything, he loves being the big spoon because it makes him feel like he can protect you and give you all of his love but he loves being the small spoon too because you make him feel safe and comfortable.

he's super shy but his shyness is no longer there when he sees you. he loves complimenting and praising you, and if he sees someone being mean to you, especially if they're making you feel bad about the way you look, he won't hold back. he's not the strongest fighter but he'd do anything for you. and he has friends (yuji n the gang) who can and will fight.

he gets insecure a lot because how could someone so perfect like someone like him? but you're always there to reassure him and he does the same for you. he could never see himself being with anyone else and he doesn't even want to think about it.

he loves tittyfucking; he loves having his dick in between your boobs and cumming on them and your face- he loves how you look and thinks you look drop dead gorgeous like that, too. he's very shy in bed, though, so he has to constantly hide his face (because he's embarrassed and you look too good so he can't focus), gets overstimulated and whiny easily which is why he also loves when you ride him because that means he can hide is face in your soft body!!

---

THANK YOU ALL SOOO MUCH FOR THE LOVE ON PART 1!!! we love chubby girls! (if you don't then just go away) I seriously appreciate all of you!!

also lmk if you guys want a part 3!!

[randoimago]

Hello! I was the one who requested the taking the blow of the P5 boys! Thank you again!

I wanted to ask if I could make the same request of the reader taking a blow for the boys of Persona 3! Mostly Makoto/Minato, Junpei, Akihiko, and Shinjiro if that's fine!

Thank you!

Fandom: Persona 3

Character(s): Akihiko, Junpei, Makoto, Shinjiro

Note(s): Here you go!

Akihiko

His eyes go wide when he sees you jump in and take the hit for him. Akihiko feels frozen and his brain can't process what emotion he should be feeling. Mix that with the fact you're still in combat, we'll he's going through it until someone snaps him out.

He just doesn't even know what to say to you for what you did. He's watched so many people he love die and then you took a hit for him. Aki is doing his best to stay calm, but his adrenaline is on high and his brain won't shut off with the "what if" scenarios.

Akihiko asks you to never do that again. He doesn't care if he might actually die, that's part of the risk of being in SEES. Just please don't ever put yourself in danger on his behalf.

Junpei

You're so lucky that Junpei didn't hit you with his bat. He saw the shadow coming and he was ready to smack it to get it to go away, but then you jumped in. Junpei is definitely not happy with your actions.

He attempts to give you the silent treatment, but he's not good at being quiet. So he might just blow up and ask if you have that little faith in him. Did you think he was so weak and worthless that he couldn't take being knocked down by a shadow?

Doesn't care what kind of excuse you're making, he's just not happy with what you did. You two will need a serious discussion once you get back to the dorms. Until then, he's upset at you.

Makoto

Considering everyone takes hits for him, watching you do it too doesn't surprise him too much. He still doesn't enjoy seeing it happen, but it's a very reluctant acceptance he has come to.

Makoto might just do a team meeting sometime and tell everyone to knock it off. He appreciates not being knocked out by a persona (especially since no one else can revive him apparently), but he doesn't want to constantly see the people he cares for letting shadows harm them for him.

After getting back from Tartarus, he just pulls you along to his room. As punishment for being stupid and taking a hit for him, you get to be the big spoon while he lays on you.

Shinjiro

You're lucky you're his S/O or he's give you a blow to the back of the head for doing something so reckless. Shinjiro is very upset with you for doing that. His life is already cut short, he's fine with dying. Why the hell would you risk your own life like that?

He becomes a very grumpy and upset boyfriend. You get the silent treatment for the rest of the Tartarus visit. He's still keeping an eye out to make sure you don't do something that stupid again, but he's ignoring you besides that.

When you get back to the dorm, his voice is very serious as he calls your name. But instead of scolding you, he pulls you into his arms and mutters about how scared you made him. Tomorrow, you'll get the biggest scolding of your life, but right now he just needs to hold you.

[jdtrashman]

What stood out to me the most about Episode Aigis' first and second acts was how despite Makoto rarely being mentioned - and obviously never by name - you feel his presence hanging over every conversation. He is the true, underlying, unspoken topic of half of what the team talks about, long before the arguments and insults start flying.

You never see the funeral, you never see his grave. Instead, the game shows something so much worse: the hole Makoto has left in his friends by leaving the way he did. (spoilers under the cut)

Aigis naturally falling into Makoto's role as the silent protagonist leader-kun, and for the same reasons as him: introversion caused by deep self loathing.

Junpei proverbially tightening his belt and straightening his shirt, stepping up to be the team anchor because someone has to keep this team from falling apart on each other. How you see that through his jokes, how carefully timed they are to avoid a conversation going down a dark path. He's gone from the guy who blamed Makoto when things went wrong, to the one keeping the team's eye on the ball.

Akihiko doing his level best to stay strong, to prove to himself that he didn't fail his two best friends.

Yukari and Mitsuru's paralleled pain, both having been failed and left behind by yet another man in their life. And how that pain manifests differently - Mitsuru isolating herself for much of the expansion's first act, and Yukari's attempts to shut away the pain manifesting in petty jealousy over Aigis receiving the wild card powers.

Ken appearing to be totally fine until you sit back and realize that what you're seeing is a child's carefully trained numbness in response to trauma. He's lost his mom and two surrogate older brothers. He is, tragically, the best of the group at pretending he's okay.

The only one who seems to be adjusting as well as anyone can is Fuuka. You get the sense that she's the only one who is actually attending therapy for this. And even then, when the story gets to its end, it's clear that she's as hurt as the rest of them.

All of this is conveyed through dialogue way before the colosseum lays all the trauma bare. Genuinely masterful stuff.

[ebbing-terror]

"It seems your friends enjoy dropping you off with me as though I am a glorified babysitter." Mortem chuckled, seeing Junpei was abandoned in her presence once more. The other two yelling in the distance, as excitable couples tended to do.

She looked at him, "What do you want out of life, Junpei?" Mortem inquired, no one to shy away from the thoughts that arose.

Junpei dropped his head against the cold steel of the gate he and Mort were left at, watching as Lynn frolicked off with her monster.

It was fine, he assured Lynn...And tried to assure himself....He was too tired to do all that running around...

He was always tired, Lynn often complained....

But, Junpei had never been the energetic sort...Even before Mahito Junpei would just sit, watch and sigh as Lynn pranced about, prefering to stay dry while she splashed in the rain...

Now she had someone who could keep up with her, someone who encouraged her recklessness instead of trying to correct it...

If he had pushed himself to act more carefree maybe he'd be the one by Lynn's side instead....

If only...

These days he was little more than a stick in the mud, a cold, wet blanket trying to put out fun flames just as they were kindling...

It was easy before...He could take Lynn's hand and reel in her chaos. It had become second nature for Junpei to make excuses for Lynn, apologize for her antics...But she was just being loud before, too energetic...

Keep quiet, don't make a scene, it just wasn't Lynn.

Now she was free and it was dangerous, her bad behavior was spured on by a delusion of near- invincibility and it gave rise to worse habits. Lynn had quite the penchant for shoplifting lately...And that wasn't something that Junpei could talk her out of...

Unconscious people couldn't argue, though...

He was tired...So tired of it all...At least he got a reward for his hand in the scehemes. At the end of the day, when they were home after a successful heist Lynn would ramble and show off her haul- then she'd finally plop down and they'd watch horror movies together...

And, for a few fleeting hours when it was just the two of them and the t.v, everything felt how it used to be...All the torment and everything wrong with his life and himself melted away and Junpei could feel at peace, taken back to simpler times when it was just him and Lynn and nothing else mattered...He didn't realize how happy he was then...How lucky he was until cursed, stitched hands stole it all away, holding what could've been just out of his reach....

Junpei's expression dimmed as the witch made light of the situation, of him being left behind like an old dog and he sighed like one, his lungs oh so heavy when they weren't filled with smoke...And in the midst of poking fun a sudden, cryptic question sprung out. If he wasn't so used to dealing with Mahito's capricious nature and Lynn's sporadic-ness he might've been caught off guard by the shift in tone and subject.

Junpei's eyes drug over to the woman and they stayed there for a moment...Was she digging into him just for the hell of it, because it was funny...? Well, he was used to that too...And so very tired of it...

What did he want out of life...?

As much as Junpei liked to alienate himself from others, wrap himself in the idea he was nothing like the brainless masses, at the end of the day he was still human...Even if he didn't feel like it...

Junpei's gaze shifted back to Lynn, the radiant sunet nowhere near as bright as the smile on her face, nor as warm as her laughter.

"I want the same thing everyone else wants, I guess...."

His voice was a desolate murmur, full of hopless longing.

"What I can't have....."

[sylvanfreckles]

Persona 3 Reload

Cons: Liam O'Brian is no longer voicing Akihiko

Pros: Vic Mignona is no longer voicing Junpei

Junpei out here sounding like the copper guard *grumble*

[silentscrying]

🏀 buzzer beater | chapter NINE.

nba!gojo x manager!reader

summary: you thought you'd gotten rid of arrogant NBA star satoru gojo when he left the curses after your first year in basketball management. but when your contract is up three years later, you find yourself working with him once again as the manager for the sorcerers. as you navigate playoff season alongside long-time friend ieiri shoko and the sorcerers' insufferable star player, you start to realize his sudden departure from the curses may not have been what it seemed, and maybe gojo isn't exactly the person (or player) you thought he was, either.

warnings: language, mentions of neglectful parenting/abandonment, TENSION, steamyyy, self-worth issues, implied sexual content. || mildly nsfw. 5k words.

YOU'RE NOT SURE you’ve ever seen Satoru Gojo play a bad game of basketball.

Until now.

The Samurai are kicking ass, and it’s not even funny. Gojo playing so—so off means the entire chemistry of the team is unbalanced. Something about his sudden lack of obnoxious confidence is throwing even Kento, even Ino. Megumi storms up to him halfway through the quarter and says something low and sharp that you can’t hear, and Gojo throws his arms up like what the hell do you want from me?

The Samurai are playing subs you’ve never seen on the court before. Miguel is a valid threat, yes, and Larue plays for almost a whole half, but then Gakuganji puts on Rin Amai. He’s like the equivalent of Junpei to the Samurai—a fresh draft, a young player who hasn’t had much time on the court this season. Eventually, Gakuganji’s just sitting there letting the assistant coach, Ijichi, call the shots.

It’s not malicious, not like they’re trying to mock you, but it feels like that game against the Phantoms, where you were so far ahead you didn’t even have to try.

It’s not like Gojo isn’t scoring. Even at his worst, he’s a good player—but he’s not playing well by his standards and the whole team can feel it. Even Nobara’s stopped being optimistic by the third. It’s a twenty-point deficit, and while it wouldn’t be unheard of for a comeback, nothing about the expressions on the guys’ faces says they’re winning today.

It’s horrible.

Yuji’s making a valiant effort to rile the team back up, and it works a little—he’s scoring like crazy, and Megumi is making a real effort to pick up Gojo’s slack. Kento is steady as ever, at least on the surface, but it’s not enough.

It’s not a hard-fought kind of loss, like the first game in the series was. Nitta gives you a strange look across the court—even she can see that something is blatantly wrong. You’re thinking of Geto, of Gojo, of the convoluted feelings roiling around in your gut.

You feel sick.

When it’s over, the team files out of the gym in near-silence, and you make a beeline for your office without speaking to anyone, even Ieiri. You need to fix this, you need to do something, you need to���you don’t fucking know.

You need to be alone.

The door practically slams behind you, and you whip out your laptop so aggressively you’re surprised it doesn’t break. You’re going to drown yourself in work and stop thinking or worrying or feeling anything at all.

It doesn’t last long.

It’s maybe been a half hour before Megumi steps into your office without prelude, not bothering to knock, and kicks the door shut behind him.

“Uh. Hey?”

He doesn’t sit down, instead pacing back and forth in front of your desk, pensive.

“Fushiguro. What?”

He stops, turns to face you. “You and Gojo,” he says. “Whatever this fucking issue is, you need to figure it out before it costs us the series.”

You stare at him, at a loss for words. Because this is Megumi Fushiguro, the last person you’d ever expect to confront you. The last person to chew you out, the last person to walk into conflict if he doesn’t absolutely have to.

You remember his sharp words to Gojo on the court, inaudible but aggressive. Wonder what they were.

“So what is it?” he prompts, crossing his arms over his chest. “Is he keeping something from you? Is that it? Is he shutting you out? Are you shutting him out?” He plants his hands on the desk, leaning over you—not threatening, but weirdly earnest in a way you’ve never really seen him before.

“Listen. I owe Gojo my life. I don’t know how much you know, but I know you’re at least aware that he pulled me and Tsumiki out of a really shitty situation. So I know you know he’s not a selfish piece of shit, even if he wants everyone to believe it. I also know that he cares about you, okay? And he doesn’t do that. Not outwardly, at least. Not in the way he cares about you. So whatever it is he did, or whatever it is you did, can you go do something about it? Because we are not going to beat the Curses if you and Gojo can’t figure this out.”

There’s no this, you want to say. Even as the thought half-forms in the back of your mind, you know it’s a lie.

This is maybe the most words you’ve ever heard Megumi speak at once, and you’re pretty sure every single one of them was true.

It’s like he took all the words in the room, all the ones the air had space for. There are none left for you, and you’re just staring at him over your laptop screen, grasping at straws.

Finally, after a too-long silence, you nod.

“He’s a good person,” Megumi says quietly.

“I know,” you whisper, looking down, wringing your hands in your lap. “I know.”

—

You work late.

At least, you stay in the office late, well after everyone else has gone home. You brushed off Ieiri’s concerns, dodged Nobara’s questions. You finished everything you had to do ages ago. Now you’re just sitting and staring at your keyboard, wondering how the hell to work this thing out with Satoru.

It should be straightforward. It should be easy. You’re not going back to the Curses. He needs to trust you more.

Except it’s not easy, it’s not straightforward. Because he makes your heart beat backwards. He turns all the words on your tongue into ash. He makes you feel things you haven’t felt in a long, long time, maybe ever, and that terrifies you. And you can’t explain why you won’t leave, why it matters so much that he trusts you, if you can’t tell him how you feel.

But you don’t know the first thing about how to start.

You’ve only just buried your head in your hands when the door opens again. No knock, no voice. You can tell just by his presence that it’s Yaga, and you wonder if you’re about to lose your job.

“I talked to Gojo,” he says, and you make yourself look up at him, hoping he can’t tell how near you are to tears.

“Oh.” You don’t have anything else to say. You thought he left hours ago.

“Look.” He doesn’t sit down, but somehow even when he’s towering over you his presence isn’t daunting. You respect him. He respects you, you know that—so why do you feel like he’s about to tear your world apart? “I need to know if they’ve extended you a serious offer, or if this one of Geto’s mind games.”

“No,” you say immediately. “No, it’s—it’s not an official offer. Even if it was I wouldn’t go back. I don’t know what Geto wants from me.”

“I don’t think it’s what he wants from you, champ.” You blink, and Yaga sighs heavily. “I know they didn’t treat you right over there, don’t lie to me. You’re a great asset and you deserve better than Geto and his band of asshats. Satoru knew that. That’s why he pointed me your way in the first place.”

“What?” You sink back in your seat. “What do you mean pointed—wait. Okay. How’d you…?”

Yaga blinks, drags his palm down his face. “Oh, damn. I thought you knew.”

“I—what? What did I know?”

“Gojo—he requested we recruit you. Talked about you so highly from your time with the Curses we couldn’t say no. Don’t get me wrong: I’d have hired you regardless. You’re damn good at your job. I don’t want you thinkin’ I’m over here doing Gojo favors or some shit. He just gave me your name, and you did the rest damn well on your own.”

You can’t think, can’t speak. Gojo, who you couldn’t stand when you worked for the Curses, couldn’t stand when you arrived here, either. He wanted you to come?

The implication here, if you’re reading Yaga’s words right, is that Geto knows that Gojo wanted you here. That it would bother Gojo if the Curses got you back. That he’s going after Gojo with one of his stupid little mind games, not you.

That Gojo cares about you to an extent that could potentially hinder his playing ability? No. That’s insane. But… you just saw it happen.

“Gojo,” you echo, a little numb. “I—Gojo recommended me. Satoru Gojo.”

Yaga nods, and you cuss under your breath. Because Satoru, it turns out, has maybe never been the man you thought he was, when you made a snap judgement all those years ago. Not even when he was with the Curses. Not even when you… when you hated him.

“Listen. I’m not saying this is entirely his fault, but Geto knows Gojo. My guess? Mei Mei’s exploiting that.”

“Mei Mei?” You gape. She’s the manager who took your place. She’s a mogul; you can’t imagine why the Curses would ever want to replace her.

But if she sent Geto here to lie to you, to gamble, to ask you to come back so that Gojo got so into his own head that the Sorcerers lost…

“Oh,” you breathe. “God. That’s… messed up.”

Yaga only nods. “Look,” he says eventually. “If we’re going to beat Suguru Geto? We need you and Gojo on the same page.”

He’s right. God. Of course he’s right. Geto plays mind games. You and Gojo—Satoru—need to be a united front against those games if you’re going to win this one.

You need to find him.

—

Jujutsu Arena is a whole different beast at night.

You’re used to squeaking shoes and cheers and blaring buzzers, whistles and cameras and fans and action.

Tonight, it’s quiet. Open. Hollow, maybe.

In regular season, the team doesn’t always practice here. You’re no stranger to nighttime gymnasiums, but this one in particular feels so wide open it could be haunted, or it could be blessed.

It’s the only place you could think of where he’d be hiding out, not answering his texts. The only reason he’d have his cell shoved in a bag somewhere rather than tucked in a jacket pocket. He could have just been ignoring you, but you know Satoru, and you know he’s petty enough to leave you on read, to make you know when he’s ignoring you. So here you are.

He knows you’re here. You make no effort to silence your footsteps as you slip through the open doors. He’s got that headband on, hair pushed out of his face, and he’s only wearing gray sweats and a T-shirt. For some reason, you feel like this might be the most unmasked you’ve ever seen him.

You know he’s registered your presence because he dunks in a stupid, showoffy flourish, but he doesn’t look at you. Ball’s in your court, apparently.

“Satoru,” you say. He turns to face you and it’s like the words are just falling out of your mouth. “Why are you—what are you doing here so late?”

“Practicing,” he says. “I—every night. Most nights.”

You think you might know why. A lot of things are starting to make sense about this man, and a lot of them make you angry, and a lot of them make you—you don’t know. Not angry, but a different kind of heated. “I think we need to talk.”

When he doesn’t say anything, but doesn’t object, you cross the court to him. “I think there are things about each other we don’t know,” you say. “And I think we can’t beat the Curses with this—with this wall between us. And I want to fix it.” Your voice is soft, and it seems to have him easing up a little on whatever this show of indifference is. He sighs.

He passes you the ball.

“Fine,” he says. “Let’s talk.”

The ball feels good in your hands, like an old friend. You really haven’t had the chance to just shoot baskets in a while, what with the insanely busy job taking up most of your free time. For all that you’re around basketball, you don’t really get to play a lot of basketball.

You bounce it a few times, trying to figure out where Gojo’s mind is at. His eyes are following the trajectory of the ball, not you.

“You’re upset,” you say, just to say something. And then you make a shot from where you’re standing. Gojo’s hand shoots up and tips the ball, and you run for the rebound and make a lay-up. “Tell me why.”

“Geto,” he says, diving for the ball before you can get it back. “He’s playing with you. To play with me.”

You’re honestly kind of surprised by the straightforward answer.

“I see,” you say. “I get a shot and you answer a question, is that it?”

“Yes,” he says, smirking. Then he scores on you. “My turn.”

“You didn’t—”

“That was a question, was it not?”

You can turn it back on him. “Yes,” you repeat. “It was, and that was my answer.”

You forget sometimes how much you love this sport. And so you figure you can do this, have your long discussion as you dart and block and shoot, because that’s when Gojo’s mind is at its best, and he can dodge your questions like your attacks. Or not.

Faking right and then diving past Gojo’s left side, you score on him again.

“Okay, so Geto,” you say, catching the rebound. “Why does he still bother you so much?”

“Because he knows me.” Gojo steals the ball right out of your hands. He’s fast. “We were best friends. In college, in San Diego. We knew everything about each other. So he’s using what he knows about me against me, instead of playing the goddamn game on a fair court. And that pisses me off.”

You. It goes unsaid. Geto is using you against Satoru.

He shoots long, his shirt riding up as his arm rises above his head, revealing his stupidly toned abs. You shake your head as the ball swooshes through the far net without even hitting the backboard. You might’ve played D1, but you’re no NBA star.

So now this game of yours, it goes both ways. He looks at you for a long moment before he starts down the court, and then you’re running to get to the ball before him. His legs are so stupidly long. “If you got a job offer right now, a better one, would you leave?” he calls as you sprint.

When you grab the ball before he does, you know he’s letting you.

“Define better,” you say, holding the ball hostage. He frowns.

“Higher paying. Better hours. I don’t know, NBA admin? WNBA?”

You consider, tapping your fingers on the uneven surface of the ball. “For another team, no,” you say truthfully. “Even with a pay raise. I like it here.” His relief is palpable, and you know he’s letting you see it—he could hide it, if he wanted to. “Maybe for a higher-level management position, something with the league. But not for the Curses.” You make sure he’s looking right into your eyes when you say it. “I wouldn’t leave this for them.”

I wouldn’t leave you for Geto.

Taking advantage of his distraction, you shoot while he isn’t standing between you and the basket. He chuckles.

“I don’t understand, though,” you insist. “If you were friends, why—I mean, I know what he did to Megumi. With the draft. But he’s—it’s Megumi. How can someone hate him? Why? He never did anything to Geto.”

Satoru sighs as you go to retrieve the ball. “It wasn’t Megumi.” He closes his eyes like he’s weighing whether he should say something. “It… was his dad.”

“What?”

“Toji… wasn’t a good guy.” You don’t miss the past tense, the forced evenness of his tone. “He, uh. He was a coach, actually. For a bit. When Geto and I were in school.” He shakes his head. “Not head coach or anything, but he was around. And god, he was a shit dad. I mean, left Megumi and Tsumiki to fend for themselves the second she turned 18. Even when she was…”

“I know,” you say, and he looks up in surprise. “Not about their dad. But Tsumiki… told me what you did for her. For Megumi. About the bills.” His eyes go wide, and you clear your throat, for some reason feeling like you’ve confessed something. Thinking about Tsumiki, so sweet and so young, about Megumi, trying to help her on his own… it makes your blood boil, knowing their father could have supported them and just—chose not to. “So what did their dad—Toji, what did he do to Geto?”

Gojo’s laugh is short and humorless. “Left.”

You pass the ball to him. A peace offering, maybe.

“Suguru and I always had very different views on the sport,” he says, dribbling idly. The use of the first name is jarring. Thinking about Geto and Gojo being that close. “How it operated in our lives, I mean. For me, it was—I mean, it’s my livelihood, but it’s not my life. It can’t come before—before people. It can’t take over.”

He rakes a hand through his hair, grabbing the headband and pulling it off, then shoving it into his pocket. His hair falls wildly into his face.

“You know, it’s funny. It used to be the other way around. I was all for the game, nobody mattered. It was different for him.”

“Different,” you echo. And your echo travels—the sheer size of this place is overwhelming when it’s empty like this, like it’s a whole planet and the two of you are the only people on it.

“In college it was more of an escape, I think—he had kind of a fucked up life, before. But he just got so obsessive. And Toji encouraged it,” Satoru explains. “It became his whole life, he was training with him all the time, and Geto didn’t even like him. Hated him, actually.”

He passes it back. You dribble the ball between your legs, relishing the sound of the quick bounces on the waxed floors.

“Toji was awful. Relentless. Refused to recruit his own kid, even when he found out what a good player Megumi is. Didn’t do jack even when he knew Tsumiki was sick. I hated him. Hated him. And I was mad at Suguru for even tolerating the guy.”

Gojo makes a run past you, and you dive to keep the ball but miss, and he steals it. “But Suguru just kept training with him, day after day after day. And it started interfering with his relationships, his friendships. And he was becoming this different person. I couldn’t handle it, he wouldn’t listen to me, and then Toji just up and left.”

He bounces the ball off a wall. “What he does best, I guess,” he says bitterly. “No explanation, no resignation, just gone. Turned up in a prison in Asia a few months later, and that was the last we ever heard of him.” He shrugs. “Except when he kicked the bucket.”

“Shit,” you murmur.

“Suguru wasn’t the same once he started training with Toji, but he got a little better after he was gone for a while. I mean, it wasn’t good, but he was starting to come back to himself. And I thought I’d gotten through to him, maybe. Thought I’d gotten him to understand that Megumi wasn’t his father. But he just wanted nothing to do with them. No Fushiguros, he said. Blacklisting Megumi was the last straw. Sometimes… sometimes I think he did that more to get back at me than anything.”

“And this,” you say quietly, taking a step toward him. “Me. Trying to get me to leave. That’s to get back at you, too?”

Satoru doesn’t respond, but that’s all the confirmation you need. You leap to block as he shoots from a few feet to the right of the hoop, but you’re not tall enough—not enough to block 6’3”.

“Do you hate me?” he asks.

You stop, hands slapping your thighs as you let them fall to your sides. “What?”

But he just looks at you, doesn’t repeat himself. And the expression on his face—it’s almost nervous.

“I don’t hate you, Satoru.” The ball rolls toward you and you let it come to a stop between your sneakers. “I—do you think I would be here if I hated you?”

“Did you used to? Before?”

You want to ask, before what? But you think you know.

“That’s two questions,” you whisper. He throws the ball into the net without looking. Asshole.

“I… I don’t think so,” you say as he catches the rebound. “I thought I did. I thought… a lot of things about you. I didn’t like you. But I also didn’t give you a chance. It was a snap judgement based on a lot of assumptions, Satoru.”

He smiles faintly, dribbling the ball idly, spinning it on a finger. “I like it when you call me that.”

You dart forward and slap the ball from his hands, turning beneath his arm to dribble to the other end of the court. You catch him so off-guard he barely makes it in time to block you, but the ball goes just over his fingertips and swishes through the basket regardless.

“Why did you think that?” you ask. “That I hated you.”

“Because you should’ve,” he says. “You had—you have every reason to. I made it that way.”

“What?”

“You, uh,” he starts quietly. “You should know that—I mess things up. I mess people up. I push people away and I say mean things and I argue and I make things hard for people. I always have.”

He retrieves the ball, still talking. “I get cocky and I act like I know everything and I pretend I don’t need anyone else. It never ends well. When I do. It was different with Megumi and Tsumiki. It just… he reminded me of me, a little. And I just tried to help, and then it all just happened. But everyone else—god, every team I’ve ever been on, the Curses, Suguru…”

He swallows once, hard. “I don’t have a reason, either. I grew up in a good home. I had a family. I don’t have excuses. I just—I got really good at one thing, really young. And everyone always treated me like I was more of an asset than a person. And at some point it just got easier to be like that, to exist as some caricature, some—some basketball icon, I don’t fucking know. It’s just—I don’t make it easy to like me. Or know me. Or be around me. I make it easy to hate me. And I wouldn’t blame you if you did, still.”

He scores again.

“I want you to be sure,” he murmurs. “Do you—”

“No,” you say fiercely. “No, Satoru. You know what? You know how you just said you push people away? You’re doing it right now. You’re doing it right now, and it’s not going to fucking work this time. Because guess what? I do know you. I know you’re here every night practicing by yourself because you don’t think you’re good enough, even though you’ve been the best player in the fucking NBA for years. I know you don’t tell anyone when you’re struggling. I know you didn’t leave the Curses for some petty fucking reason, you left because Megumi—because he needed—Satoru, you took Megumi and Tsumiki under your wing and never even told anyone, you endured all that bullshit from Geto and never even ratted him out, you got me this goddamn job—”

“What—did Yaga tell you?”

“It doesn’t matter!” you cry, hands coming up to grip Satoru’s forearms. “Because you do care, Satoru. Because you’re a good person. And I’m sorry,” you say, softer now, “I’m sorry I ever made you feel like you weren’t.”

You aren’t sure when his face got so close to yours. His breath is warm, ruffling the loose strands of hair that have escaped from your loose ponytail. “And it surprised me, too,” you murmur, refusing to break eye contact, still holding him by the arms. “But yeah, Satoru. I see you, and I know you. And I like you.”

He wiggles his eyebrows at you and drawls, “Aw, Alley, do you like-like me?”

“Satoru,” you warn flatly. He chuckles, but then his expression melts back into that serious, searching gaze. He pulls one of his arms away, takes the ball from you, moves back just a little. He shoots it right over your head. You don’t move.

He smirks as the ball drops into the basket with a faint swoosh. Neither of you move to grab it as it bounces across the floor, the rubbery THUNKthunkthunk echoing in the empty arena.

“Your turn, then,” you say, and it sounds a little strangled, a little thready. You don’t know when your heart start moving faster than your mind.

You blink and he’s in centimeters away from you, and he reaches out and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Yeah, I got one,” he whispers, voice gruff. He takes a step forward and you take one back. Not away from him, just—he’s so close, he’s…

“Can I kiss you?”

There is no stadium.

There are no empty seats, no baskets, no hoops. The moonlight streaming in from the skylights is secondary, the feel of the court beneath your feet irrelevant. There is only you, and Satoru, and the very, very thin space between your faces.

You have no words, not for this.

Your hand drifts up to the back of his neck, and you pull him toward you, and his lips slot into yours like they were made just for this, just for you, and you’re warm everywhere, from your gut to your fingertips to your toes to everywhere his hands on your body, moving, shifting, holding, and you feel like you’ve lost the knowledge of where you end and Satoru begins.

“I liked seeing you in that shirt,” he breathes, hands slipping beneath the fabric of the one you’re wearing now, his warmth on your back. “But I’d like seeing you in one of mine more.”

Whatever the game is, you lose.

It’s the fact that he wants you, maybe, that this isn’t a one-time thing, that he wants his clothes on your body. The implication that it’s more than just now, than tonight. That whatever this jumble of knotted feelings in your gut has been all this time, he’s got it too, you’re not crazy. You don’t realize you’ve stumbled back, that he’s moving with you, that you haven’t broken eye contact since he spoke.

“Satoru.” His name comes out in a gasp, and you feel your shoulder blades hit the cool-to-the-touch mats that guard the gymnasium walls, your knees nearly buckling as he moves his lips down to your neck, your collarbone. You’re not cold, you’re so far from cold, but goosebumps scatter themselves across your skin. You can’t stay still. You want his skin on yours, everywhere.

“Say that again,” he says against your skin, lips warm. “My name.”

Oh, he doesn’t get to have all the fun.

“Gojo,” you tease, and he grabs you by the chin, breathing into your mouth.

“No.”

“Six,” you whisper.

“No.” His voice is guttural.

You grab him by the forearm and shift your weight. In a blink, he’s the one against the wall, and you know he’s yours.

“Baby,” he whispers. It sounds like a plea, or a confession.

“Satoru.”

He kisses you again, desperately, his tongue slipping into your mouth, and you practically sink into his touch. “I’ve wanted to do this,” he breathes, kissing a trail down your jaw, “for so fucking long.”

“Oh, yeah?” Your composure is long gone, gone with the reality of the empty stadium around you, maybe you never even had it— “How long?”

He grabs your face in his hands, his long fingers reaching into your hair. “Since the second day you worked for San Diego,” he confesses. “You yelled at me.”

You can’t help the laugh that slips through your lips, remembering your second day of work. Satoru had not shut up, even as you tried to get to know each of the players, get your footing in this new position. You turned around and snapped at him, told him to go take a lap if he couldn’t keep his mouth shut or something.

“You’re into that?” you tease. And the the gravity of what he’s saying hits you. That he’s wanted you for that long. For years. “Since…”

“I’m into anything when you do it,” he whispers in the shell of your ear, and shivers run down your back as he reverses your positions again, your back pressed to the wall. He grabs you by the hips, his hands moving over your skin, and before you know it your legs are wrapped around him and he’s holding you against the wall, kissing the daylights out of you, like he’s been starving for five years and you have every answer he’s ever wanted.

“Satoru,” you get out through gasps as he kisses a line down your collarbone before capturing your lips in his again. He hums against your mouth, acknowledging you, and you pull away just for a second, and it’s the hardest thing you’ve ever done, maybe. “We can’t—do this here.”

“This?” he teases. His finger slips into your waistband, taunting.

“Toru—” You don’t mean to say it like that, but you’re short on the breath and the first part of his name gets lost in the air.

“Oh, well, when you ask so nicely,” he murmurs, setting you down, but not letting go of you, like he’ll die if his hands aren’t touching you.

“Hey, sweetheart?” You look at him through lidded eyes, every cell in your body on fire. You’ve been struck by lightning. You might be dying. If this is what dying feels like, you’re ready. “I’m not gonna make it back to my place,” he says lowly. “Or yours.”

Your grin is wide and slow, and genuine.

“Good thing,” you say, pulling him back toward you, “I’ve got an office down the hall.”

directory. || prev. || next.

jjk taglist open: just send me a message!

@shutuppeter @mikikkoo @reactwithjan @theclassbookworm @lilactaro

a/n: okay, team: this is a PSA that this is not really a cliffhanger as much as a fade to black. the sexual content is very much implied and you can do with that what you will, but i do not write smut! only a few more chapters left ahhh

[shxyo-sho]

when you fall asleep on their shoulder ♡

pairings: itadori, nanami, junpei, nobara x gn!reader

warnings: none!

genre: fluff

a/n: this is literally like a year late i’m saurrrr sorry 😭🙏🏼 but i finally found the motivation to finish this stupidly cute request and i hope you love it and that it was worth the wait :)) thank you for requesting and for getting me over my writers block, enjoyyy @neinpls <3 (ps ur so nice i’m in luv w u)

|| jjk m.list ||

Itadori Yuji

-> The wave of tiredness that hits after missions was no joke, especially considering how late it was. Itadori sat directly beside you on the ride back to school after a successful exorcism. It was dark and quiet, only the sounds of raindrops hitting the metal of the car could be heard. They sounded like a song almost, lulling you to sleep. Itadori’s too busy fighting his own exhaustion to notice yours, at least until he feels a soft weight on his shoulder. You were out cold and he couldn’t help but smile. Gently, he lifts your head and places it on his lap instead, wanting to save you from any later neck pain. You’re cute like this, he thinks. With your mouth hanging open, clothes slightly ruffled but you’re completely and utterly relaxed. He brings one hand up to sift through your hair, soft yet very messy, while the other interlocks with your fingers. Lingering thoughts of love fill his mind before he himself falls asleep. He hopes you’re dreaming of him, the same way he is of you.

Nanami Kento

-> Nanami quietly reads the last line of the chapter from his book, softly closing it and setting it on the nightstand beside him. Upon looking down, he is met with your sleeping face, lips slightly parted and chest rising and falling with every breath taken. You regain consciousness for a moment, telling your husband, through slurred words, to continue reading the book. He can only chuckle and watch as you fall back into a deep slumber, head resting on his chest. A whispered declaration of his love slips past his lips and it feels like second nature to him. He leaves a delicate kiss to your temple, then another and another. Wrapping you in his arms, Nanami hopes to feel this tranquility forever.

Junpei Yoshino

-> Junpei leans forward in his seat, eyes not once leaving the screen. It’s movie night for the both of you and an old horror movie plays on his living room tv. He slightly jumps when he feels a sudden weight on his shoulder, pausing the movie to glance at you. A dorky smile adorned his face as he watched you fight the urge to fall asleep. Your eyes barely opening only to fall shut again. “Babe the movie just started and you’re already falling asleep,” he say’s partially laughing at you. Your eyes snap open, for only a moment, as you urge your boyfriend to press play again, promising to watch from now on. He obliges but watches as you fall back into sleep, keeping your promise for all of 3 seconds. He moves to lay down and pulls your body on top of his, getting lost in the warmth of your embrace.

Nobara Kugisaki

-> Nobara softly sets the bags of newly bought clothes down, right beside her legs. The train is packed with passengers and she can’t help but glare. There were so many people, so many loud and sweaty people. Too busy frowning at everyone in eyesight, she fails to notice your dazed state. Only when she feels your head fall onto her shoulder does she look over to you. “I guess all that shopping tired you out huh” she mumbles, beginning to maneuver your head onto her lap. She smiles down at you, soaking in the peaceful moment. She always believed that gentleness was not one of her strong suits but as she held your face, tender eyes scanning each and every detail, she may have proven herself wrong.

shxyo-sho © 2023 | all content and its rights belong to me. please do not modify or repost on any other websites.

[leaping-ocelots]

Holy shit...in Reload, Junpei just covered Ryoji's mouth while telling him to shut up. In FES he just straight up tried to drown the dude XD