#you two leave shibuya RIGHT NOW

[gojosbf]

itafushi <3

[snail-day]

Can My Friend Join?

Your boyfriend wants his murderer of a best friend to join your relationship. You'll do that for him, right?

Yan!SatoSugu x Reader

Part two

TW: Yandere Behaviors, dubcon/noncon?, Manipulation, SatoSugu, Potential grammatical/spelling errors, oral/fingering (f! receiving), Trapping/love bombing. MDNI

WC: 5.2k

You see, it wasn’t totally unlike your boyfriend to make crazy decisions.

Satoru was rash, impulsive, yet completely and utterly in love with you in a way that made it hard to say no to him. And he always knew how to work that to his advantage. You’d let him get away with just about anything—like buying a penthouse in Shibuya without even stepping foot in it, or whisking you off on spontaneous trips for “work” that had your boss threatening to fire you every time you gave him a last-minute call about your absence.

Crazy decisions were his specialty, after all. Including the craziest one of all: dating you, a non sorcerer, that was not a well-kept secret from his clan.

And now, his most recent decision was leaving you staring at him in stunned disbelief.

“Come on, baby, he’s going to therapy,” Satoru murmured into your ear, his arms snug around your waist as he rested his chin on your shoulder. His voice was soft, almost coaxing, as he peppered gentle kisses along the curve of your neck. “You remember Sugu, right? You even mentioned you had a little crush on him before we started dating.”

Suguru Geto. The man who’d slaughtered a village, started a cult, and declared genocide on nonsorcerers like you.

But now, according to Satoru, he was “better.” Redeemed, even. Whatever that meant. He wasn’t a deranged cult leader anymore, apparently. Therapy had fixed him. Or at least, that’s what Satoru was claiming with his usual breezy confidence.

“My love,” you began softly, setting the tea you’d been preparing down to turn and face him. His cerulean eyes shone with that familiar affection, the corners crinkling slightly as he gazed down at you like you hung the moon. It made your chest ache. “I know you two… had a thing. But why does he need to be a part of our relationship?”

You tried to keep your tone gentle, like you were trying to reason with him. Because, honestly, you were.

Satoru tilted his head, his grin widening just enough to tell you he’d been prepared for this question. “Mmm, well,” he started, the teasing lilt of his voice softening. “You were there for me, weren’t you? You’ve kept me grounded—saved me, even.” He leaned in to nuzzle against your cheek. “I figured… maybe you could do the same for him. Help him down a better path, you know? Keep an eye on him.”

Your heart sank.

“And,” he added with a sheepish laugh, his blush deepening as his hand rubbed the back of his neck, “well, he was actually the one who suggested it.”

That had your stomach twisting uncomfortably. You searched his face for answers, for some sign that this wasn’t as serious as it sounded. But all you found was that lovesick smile of his.

And you knew.

Satoru still had feelings for Suguru. He’d never said it outright, but the signs were there. The way his voice softened when he spoke of him. The wistful, almost mournful glint in his eyes whenever Suguru’s name came up. And, of course, the times he’d accidentally murmured Suguru’s name in moments of intimacy with you.

Your throat felt tight.

“Satoru…” You struggled to find the words, to balance the storm of emotions swirling in your chest. Jealousy. Confusion. Heartbreak. And, strangely enough, pity.

“It won’t change anything between us,” he said quickly, like he could see your doubts forming. His hands cupped your face, his thumbs brushing soothingly against your skin. “I promise. You’re my person—my love. I just… I can’t let him go again. Not like before.”

You swallowed hard, your voice barely above a whisper. “And what if I can’t do this? What if I can’t… share you?”

Satoru’s expression softened, his usual playful confidence replaced with something raw and pleading. “Please,” he murmured, his voice quieter than you’d ever heard it. It wasn’t like him to plead. To beg. “Just think about it, okay? You won’t be home alone as much anymore when I’m out on missions. With Suguru back, there’ll be two strongest sorcerers. That means I won’t have to work or be on call as much. I’m thinking about us, baby.”

His words were so earnest, so filled with affection, that they pressed against your chest like a weight. You should’ve voiced your opinions, should’ve argued, but the guilt crept in before you could. Satoru had done so much for you—letting you live with him rent-free, covering your schooling, and showering you with a kind of love that had felt impossible in a world where you were so much weaker than him.

How could you say no to him? Not after everything.

So, what if you were allowing some murderer into your relationship? Satoru said he was better now. Satoru loved you. He wouldn’t steer you wrong… right?

You bit your lip, glancing away before nodding hesitantly. “Can we… take things slow, Toru?” Your voice was soft, almost unsure, as you sheepishly met his gaze.

Satoru’s face lit up with relief, his cerulean eyes shining so brightly it was almost blinding. “Oh, of course, baby. As slow as you need to. I know I can be a bit… eager, heh,” he said with a nervous laugh, his hands cupping your cheeks tenderly. Then, with a playful grin, he squished them together, molding your lips into silly fishy shapes.

“There it is! Cute as ever,” he teased, leaning closer, his voice softer now. “But I still love you. You know that, right?”

You nodded automatically, leaning into his touch despite the unease swirling in your stomach. Perhaps, you were overthinking this. Relationships need a bit of spice, right?

“I know,” you murmured, forcing a small smile. “I love you too.”

The words almost came automatically, yet your anxiety continued to ring alarming bells.

He grinned, his usual teasing confidence returning as he kissed your forehead. “That’s my baby. I knew you’d understand.”

And so, within a week, Suguru Geto moved in.

It was awkward at first. You weren’t sure how to act around him—this man who carried a dark, complicated history yet exuded a calm, almost disarming aura. Offering shy smiles felt like the extent of your bravery, and more often than not, you retreated to the sanctuary of your bedroom.

At least Suguru had the decency to move into the guest room initially. That small gesture was a relief in itself. And thankfully, with Satoru and Suguru being sorcerers, you were rarely alone with him. At least not yet.

But Suguru was... considerate. You couldn’t deny that. He had a quiet, almost effortless charm, and while you had your issues—big issues—you couldn’t ignore the fact that he was a handsome, beautiful man.

“Ah, do you need help?” Suguru asked one day, his deep voice breaking the silence as he spotted you reaching for the Christmas decorations tucked away on the highest shelf of the closet.

You froze for a moment, clutching at the edge of the shelf. “No, I’ll be alright… thank you,” you murmured, your voice almost too shy.

Suguru tilted his head, his dark eyes softening as he took a step closer. “It’s no trouble. Here.” Without waiting for permission, he reached up effortlessly, his height making quick work of retrieving the box.

You thanked him quietly, clutching the box as you avoided his gaze. His lips quirked into a faint smile, but he said nothing, stepping back to give you space.

Then there were the times he helped without hesitation, like during grocery trips.

Satoru would inevitably dart off down the aisles, hunting for sweets or whatever caught his attention. Suguru, on the other hand, stuck to your side, the picture of calm efficiency. He’d scan the list you held, nodding thoughtfully before reaching for items on the shelves—always grabbing your favorite brands without you needing to say a word.

“You cook often, don’t you?” he remarked once, glancing at the cart as he placed a box of your preferred pasta into it.

“Uh, yeah,” you replied, startled by how observant he was. “It’s… kind of relaxing.”

He hummed in agreement, his expression neutral but not unkind. “I can see that. I’ll have to try some of your cooking sometime.”

The comment left you flustered, unsure how to respond. Satoru would’ve teased you mercilessly, but Suguru simply kept moving, scanning the shelves like he wasn’t even aware of the small storm brewing in your chest.

It was moments like these—small, thoughtful gestures and quiet interactions—that left you unsettled. Suguru wasn’t what you expected. You’d braced yourself for someone dangerous, cold, someone you couldn’t trust. But instead, he was... kind. Maybe too kind.

And that was what unnerved you the most.

Because every time you caught his lingering gaze or noticed the way he seemed to effortlessly fit into your routines, you couldn’t help but wonder: Was he doing this for Satoru? Or was he doing it for you?

It started off slow. Like a light sprinkle before the storm. 

Satoru was still the same as ever—the fun-loving boyfriend, full of laughter and mischief. He’d press kisses to your cheek, wrap you in his arms, and tease you in that playful way that made your heart flutter. But lately, his words carried a strange edge, a hint of something you couldn’t quite place.

“Maybe start showing Sugu a bit of love,” he teased one evening, nuzzling against your neck as you brushed your teeth. “He’s trying, y’know. Don’t be difficult, baby.”

You froze for a moment, the brush stilling in your hand as you quickly spit out the toothpaste. That… hurt. His tone was light, but the implication stung. Was he disappointed in you?

Still, you managed a tight smile and nodded, swallowing your unease. “I’ll try.”

Satoru grinned, pressing a lingering kiss to your temple. “That’s my baby.”

But then Suguru began to be more… involved.

It wasn’t anything overt at first. He’d sit quietly in the living room while you watched TV, occasionally commenting on the plot like a polite guest. Not as the boyfriend he was supposed to be, that you didn’t want him to be. He’d help with household chores without being asked, his quiet competence a stark contrast to Satoru’s chaotic energy.

But there was something about the way his presence lingered—like a shadow stretching further than it should.

“Tired?” he asked one evening, his voice like honey as you struggled to keep your eyes open on the couch. You felt him sit down beside you, close enough that his warmth seeped into your side.

You nodded, your words slurring slightly. “Yeah… long day.”

Suguru reached out, his fingers brushing against your temple as he tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear. The touch was gentle, almost tender, but his dark eyes… they hid something.

“You should rest more,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “Satoru worries about you.”

You blinked, struggling to process his words. “He does?”

Suguru smiled faintly, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Of course. We both do.”

The way he said it—we—sent a strange chill down your spine.

As the days passed, the small, unsettling moments began to pile up.

Suguru had a way of always being there, always watching. When you left a room, you’d turn to find his gaze following you. When you spoke, he listened so intently it felt like he was dissecting your every word.

And Satoru, who’d always been possessive in his teasing way, started pushing boundaries in ways he hadn’t before.

One evening, as you tried to excuse yourself to your bedroom after dinner, Satoru caught your wrist, pulling you back to the living room where Suguru sat quietly.

“Don’t run off so quick,” he said, his grin wide but his grip firm. “We’re a family now, aren’t we? Stay with us for a bit.”

Suguru looked up from his tea, his dark eyes locking onto yours. “Satoru’s right,” he said softly, his lips curving into a small, almost inviting smile. “It’s nice when we’re all together.”

The way they looked at you—Satoru’s bright gaze brimming with love, Suguru’s dark eyes filled with something deeper, darker—made you feel trapped.

And then, Satoru had to leave.

He was off to Kenya for a mission with a student, and for the first time in what felt like forever, the apartment felt… quieter. You’d thought, perhaps foolishly, that Suguru would be sent off somewhere too, leaving you to breathe for a moment, to process.

But no.

Suguru stayed.

The first few nights felt strange, the absence of Satoru’s boundless energy a sharp contrast to Suguru’s quiet, deliberate presence. He wasn’t pushy—if anything, he gave you more space than usual, offering soft smiles and polite conversation. But there was always something in the air, something unspoken, something that made the silence between you feel heavier than it should.

And then, one night, as you lay in what felt like a bed too big without Satoru’s warmth beside you, you felt it—a hand wrapping around your waist, firm yet gentle, pulling you back against a solid chest.

Your breath hitched as a woodsy, earthy scent filled your nose, inky dark hair brushing against your shoulders.

Your heart sank once again, something it’s been doing a little too much as of late. 

“You’re awake,” Suguru murmured softly, his voice warm and low, like he’d been waiting for you to notice. His lips ghosted against your cheek in a feather-light kiss, making your skin prickle. “Satoru said I should join you. Keep you safe.”

Safe? The word felt foreign, almost cruel, as if it was meant to comfort you when it did the exact opposite.

“Suguru,” you said, your voice trembling as you tried to pull away, but his arm around your waist tightened, holding you in place.

“Shh,” he soothed, his breath warm against your ear. “It’s okay. I know it feels strange, but Satoru trusts me to look after you. He said you get lonely when he’s away.”

Your stomach twisted. This wasn’t Satoru’s doing—at least, not entirely. This was Suguru, using Satoru’s words, his trust, to inch closer, to blur the lines you’d been desperately trying to hold onto.

“You don’t have to do this,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

His hand moved, sliding up to rest lightly against your ribs, his touch slow and deliberate. “I want to,” he murmured. “You deserve someone to care for you, even when Satoru can’t. That’s what we agreed on, isn’t it?”

You froze. Agreed on?

The realization hit you like a wave, cold and suffocating. This wasn’t just Satoru’s idea. This wasn’t just about keeping you “safe” or “happy.” This was part of something bigger, something the two of them had decided for you, without you.

“I don’t think—” you started, but Suguru cut you off, his voice still maddeningly calm.

“You don’t have to think,” he said softly, almost kindly, as his fingers brushed against your jaw, tilting your head slightly so he could press a kiss to your temple. “Just go to sleep, yeah?”

But the way his grip on you remained firm, the way his body pressed so closely against yours, made it abundantly clear that this wasn’t a request.

Your heart pounded in your chest, a frantic rhythm that you were sure he could feel where his arm wrapped around your waist. Go to sleep? How could you possibly sleep with this man lying so close, his breath steady against the back of your neck, his warmth invading every inch of your space?

Suguru shifted slightly, his arm pulling you tighter against him as though sensing your discomfort. “You’re tense,” he murmured, his tone carrying a strange gentleness. “It’s okay to relax. I’m here.”

His words sent shivers down your body and tendrils of anxiety in your mind, and you squeezed your eyes shut, willing yourself to calm down. But how could you relax when your instincts screamed that something was wrong? That something about him, about this situation, was profoundly off?

You tried to focus on your breathing, hoping it would drown out the sound of your racing thoughts. But every inhale carried the faint, woodsy scent of him—so different from Satoru’s familiar, comforting smell. It was calming, yet suffocating all at once.

A small voice crept in your mind, you shouldn’t feel calm. 

Suguru hummed softly, a low, melodic sound that sent another wave of unease through you. “You smell nice,” he said, almost absentmindedly. His nose brushed against your hair, and you froze as he inhaled deeply. “Like home.”

The words were meant to be reassuring, you thought. But they felt wrong, invasive, like he was claiming a piece of you that wasn’t his to take.

You wanted to say something—anything—but the words caught in your throat. And in that silence, Suguru’s hand shifted, moving from your ribs to rest lightly against your stomach, the weight of it grounding and possessive.

“You’re safe with me,” he whispered, his voice softer now, almost tender. Almost loving. “I’ll keep you safe. Just sleep, okay?”

Your throat tightened, and your breathing came faster as you tried to steady yourself. Safe. He kept using that word, as though repeating it would make it true. As if he were tricking your mind into thinking it was true. 

But how could you feel safe when every instinct in your body screamed at you to run?

Suguru’s grip didn’t waver, and the steady rhythm of his breathing filled the silence, lulling you into a state of uneasy stillness. You didn’t know how long you lay there, rigid and wide-eyed, before exhaustion began to weigh on you.

Your body betrayed you before your mind could catch up. Slowly, reluctantly, your eyes fluttered shut, and your breathing evened out.

You stirred awake to a sensation so surreal, so tender, that in your dreamlike haze, you convinced yourself it was Satoru.

The soft brush of hair between your thighs, a large, calloused hand rested on the fat of your thighs, keeping your legs open, as your eyes were slowly opening from sleep. 

You felt his tongue drift up you sopping slit, moving to circle around your bundle of nerves, a whine escaping your lips as you shifted a little only for a warm hand to press against your abdomen to keep you from moving as he continued to dive deep into your cunt, his tongue switching from spelling a name on your sensitive clit to fucking your tight dripping heat. You couldn’t help but muffle your moans by biting the sheets. 

“Toru…” You whimpered out in pathetic small breaths. “Feels…s’good” it wasn’t like Satoru to be this in-depth with eating you out. It felt like he was mapping out your entire insides as he slowly inserted a finger into your dripping mess. 

You felt a nip on your inner thigh, causing a whine and for you to finally open your eyes. 

“Wrong boyfriend,” Suguru murmured, his voice a low, velvety hum that sent a shiver rippling down your spine. His dark eyes gleamed with amusement as he hovered just above your pussy that clenched around his fat finger that curled in just the right spot, your gummy walls clenching, no, greedily sucking in. His lips curled into a faint, knowing smirk. 

He tilted his head, his inky hair brushing against your trembling thighs as he leaned back down, his movements deliberate, controlled, as though savoring every moment of your reaction. His breath ghosted over your poor pussy, slowly licking up the mess you were leaking as he pushed his finger knuckle deep inside you, before slowly, teasingly adding another one of his thick fingers inside. Compared to Satoru’s thin long fingers, his was different, it was almost mind-numbing as your poor cunny tightened at the sudden intrusion of another finger.  

“Suguru” You panted out. “I-” and a gasp left your lips as you felt him curl both his fingers. Hitting that sweet spot that made you see stars, no colors, all sorts of stars and colors, as he pried you open. Your mouth left agape as you tried to think of anything besides the pleasure and the sickening wet sounds that were filling the bedroom. 

You shouldn’t be enjoying this. You mind sang to you. But god, did it feel so good. 

“Mmmm, such a sweet pussy” he said softly before lightly sucking on your nub, earning sweet moans and whispers from your lips “Want me to stop, pretty?”  he said softly as he released your poor abused little clit with a loud pop. Offering a small kitten lick as you were trying to form a coherent sentence. 

“Come on, baby girl, use your words f’me.” His fingers slipping out of your slickened folds that caused you to look down at him with half-lidded eyes and a pout. You were so fucked.  

“You need me don’t you? Need me to help you?” He said softly as he pulled away, his big warm hand cupping your heat as you bucked your hips, his thumb lightly grazing your clit, toying with it softly. His chin glistened with your juices as he moved close to your face. 

It didn’t help that he was so devastatingly attractive—so effortlessly pretty, yet undeniably handsome. Every sharp line of his jaw, every curve of his lips, and the way his dark eyes seemed to pierce straight through you made it impossible to look away, even when you wanted to. Even when you knew you should.

“Give me a kiss, just one little kiss, and then I’ll let you cum. Okay, pretty?” Suguru hummed softly, his gaze lingering on your plump, red lips, his voice almost syrupy in its coaxing. His dark eyes sparkled with amusement as he took in the teary-eyed expression you offered him. “Can you do that for me?”

You wanted to fight him. Wanted to kick him off, shove him away, bite that insufferable smirk right off his face.

But he made you feel so good.

You were warm, fuzzy, and completely disconnected from yourself. Every logical thought dissolved into the haze of pleasure he’d wrapped you in. Your body betrayed you, nodding mindlessly like some desperate, needy thing you hardly recognized.

“One kiss?” you murmured meekly, your voice trembling.

Suguru’s grin widened, predatory and oh-so smug. “Just one,” he purred, watching as your eyes flickered away from him.

That’s when you saw it.

The camera.

Nestled discreetly in the corner of the room, its cold, unblinking lens stared back at you. Your stomach dropped, the haze clearing just enough for panic to creep in.

Suguru followed your gaze, and when he saw what had caught your attention, he chuckled—a low, dark sound that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Oh,” he said smoothly, as though you’d stumbled upon a delightful surprise. “You found the camera.” He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against yours, his voice a whisper now. “Say hi to Toru.”

Before you could react, his lips crashed against yours, the kiss fierce and consuming, stealing the breath from your lungs. It wasn’t gentle—it was possessive, demanding, a declaration that left no room for resistance. His hand slid to the back of your neck, holding you in place as his tongue brushed against yours, coaxing a response you couldn’t deny.

Every fleeting thought of resistance melted under the heat of his touch, leaving you utterly at his mercy, the world narrowing to the overwhelming intensity of him.

That fuzzy, dreamlike feeling reeled in your mind, spinning you further into a haze. The high you were on didn’t feel natural—it was too consuming, too overwhelming. Even after you came for the nth time, your body still burned with need, craving more despite the exhaustion creeping into your limbs.

You glanced at Suguru through the haze, his expression soft, almost tender, as he leaned down to scoop you into his arms. His strength was effortless, and the gentle smile that tugged at his lips felt entirely out of place with the aching mess he’d left you in.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?” he hummed softly, cradling you as though you weighed nothing.

Your body refused to cooperate, too spent and trembling to do anything but lay limply in his embrace. Resigning yourself to your inability to fight, you rested your head against his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath beneath your cheek. It was almost comforting if not for the gnawing unease beneath the surface of your mind.

As he carried you to the bathroom, his voice broke the silence, low and soothing. “Satoru’s coming home today,” he said, his tone so calm, so casual, that it sent a chill down your spine. “He’s going to be so proud of the progress we made, yeah?”

The words hung in the air, their weight suffocating.

The day stretched on in a blur, and though Suguru remained by your side, tending to you with a gentleness that felt far too intimate, you couldn’t shake the words he’d spoken.

Satoru’s coming home today. He’s going to be so proud of the progress we made.

Each passing moment only tightened the knot in your stomach, the uneasy anticipation building to a crescendo by the time the front door opened with Satoru’s familiar sing-song call.

“My sweet sugar bears, I’m home!”

His voice echoed through the apartment, bright and teasing as always, but it carried a weight that hadn’t been there before. You stiffened, clutching the edges of the blanket Suguru had wrapped around you as you sat on the couch, your heart pounding in your chest.

Suguru, seated beside you with a calm, almost serene expression, stood and moved to greet him. “Welcome back,” he said, his tone warm and inviting.

Satoru appeared moments later, his bright cerulean eyes sweeping over the room before landing on you. His grin widened, mischievous and utterly unapologetic.

“There’s my girl,” he said, striding over and crouching in front of you. His hand reached out to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing gently against your skin. “Missed you.”

You swallowed hard, unsure of what to say as his gaze lingered on you, almost too intently.

Then he turned his attention to Suguru, who was now leaning casually against the wall, his arms crossed as he watched the interaction unfold.

“And you,” Satoru said, his grin taking on a sharper edge. “You really outdid yourself this time, Sugu.”

Suguru inclined his head slightly, the faintest trace of a smirk tugging at his lips. “I’m glad you think so. She was… responsive.”

Your stomach twisted at the way they spoke, as if you weren’t even there—or worse, as if you were some sort of project they’d been collaborating on.

Satoru’s attention flicked back to you, and his grin softened into something almost affectionate. “I loved the video,” he said, his voice low as he leaned closer, his breath brushing against your ear. “You looked so perfect for him, baby. It made me jealous.”

Your blood ran cold.

“The—video?” you managed to whisper, your voice trembling as your mind raced to catch up.

Satoru tilted his head, his grin widening again as he straightened. “Oh, come on, don’t play coy now,” he teased, reaching out to ruffle your hair like you were some pet he was fond of. “You knew about the camera, didn’t you? Suguru said you even looked right at it.”

Suguru’s chuckle was low, almost inaudible, but it caused your chest to tighten. Throat to clench up, you suddenly wanted to cry. 

“We’ll have to make more next time,” Satoru continued, his tone light, almost playful, like he was discussing something as mundane as dinner plans. His grin stretched wide, carefree, but his words carried a weight that left your chest tight. “But don’t worry—I’ll be in the next one. No way I’m missing out again.”

The floor beneath you might as well have disappeared. The weight of their words pressed down on you, heavy and suffocating, and your heart hammered as panic welled in your chest.

“No,” you said, your voice trembling. “No, this isn’t… This isn’t right. You can’t just—”

Suguru stepped forward, his movements unhurried, deliberate. His dark eyes locked onto yours, unreadable yet brimming with a quiet intensity that made your skin prickle. He stopped just behind Satoru, his presence looming, steady.

“We’re a team, after all,” he said softly, his voice smooth and calm, like he was explaining something obvious. “It’s only fair we share.”

“No,” you said again, louder this time. The word came out sharp, cutting through the air like a blade, though your hands trembled as you clenched them into fists. “This isn’t fair. This isn’t normal, Satoru, Suguru—this isn’t love.”

For a moment, the room seemed to freeze, the weight of your words hanging in the tense silence.

Suguru’s lips curled into a faint smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Is that what you think?” he asked, his tone soft, almost disappointed. He tilted his head slightly, his dark hair spilling over his shoulder as he regarded you with something akin to pity. “You think this isn’t love?”

“Yes,” you said, though the tremor in your voice betrayed your confidence. “This isn’t right. You’re asking too much—this isn’t something I can give.”

Suguru took another step closer, his gaze unwavering. “And what do you think love is, then?” he asked, his voice low, coaxing. “Is it not trust? Devotion? Sacrifice?” He leaned in slightly, his presence suffocating as his words wrapped around you like a vice. “After everything Satoru and I have done for you, everything we’ve given you as of late—are you really saying we don’t deserve your love in return?”

Your breath caught in your throat, the weight of his words sinking into your chest like stones. You had to swallow back your tears. “That’s not what I—”

“But it is,” Suguru interrupted, his voice never rising, never breaking its calm, steady cadence. “You’re saying no to us. To him. To me. After everything we’ve done to keep you safe, to give you the life you have now.”

You’d be nothing without them. You almost owe your life to Satoru alone. 

His words twisted in your mind, sharp and cutting, making you question the thoughts you’d clung to just moments before. He stepped even closer, his dark eyes softening, his tone shifting to something almost tender. “Do you really think it’s fair to push us away when all we want is to love you? To care for you? To protect you?”

Your lips parted, but the words died in your throat.

Satoru crouched slightly to meet your gaze, his cerulean eyes wide and impossibly soft. “Don’t you love me?” he asked, his voice heartbreakingly gentle. “Because if you do, baby, then you can love us.”

Suguru nodded, his smile warming into something deceptively kind. “We’re not asking for much,” he murmured. “Just for you to trust us. To let us take care of you. Isn’t that what love is about?”

The room spun, their words swirling in your mind, drowning out the panic that had gripped you moments before. Their voices, so soothing, so insistent, chipped away at your resolve, making you question everything you thought you knew.

“Shh, you’re cryin’,” Satoru said softly, brushing his fingers against your cheek, his touch gentle as he wiped your hot frustrated tears. “Don’t overthink it, baby. Just let us love you. That’s all we want.”

Suguru’s hand came to rest lightly on your shoulder, his grip firm but not forceful, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “You don’t want to disappoint us, do you? Satoru has given you everything. Don’t you think you owe us this much?”

The words struck deep, guilt twisting in your chest as you struggled to breathe.

They loved you. This is love, right?

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

CINNA MY BELOVED IVE BEEN SAVING THIS REQ JUST FOR U IM SO HAPPY THEYRE OPEN (im so happy ur back btw i was checking ur blog religiously every day)

choso thinking he hates reader when in reality it’s just cuteness aggression but he doesn’t understand because he’s new to being a human

begging on my KNEES 🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️

Cuteness Aggression (Choso’s Ver.)

Tags: Choso x fem!Reader, fluff, very slightly suggestive, mdni anyway, not proofread, is this considered enemies to lovers?

An: this idea is so stinking adorable. i get cuteness aggression so bad, so i definitely relate here lol

you get the feeling that choso doesn’t like you very much.

it’s the way his dark eyes narrow at you with a fervent glare. it’s the way his body tenses whenever you’re too close to him. it’s the way that he’ll make sure to never be alone in a room with you.

you’ve tried everything you know to make him feel at ease while he talks to you, but nothing works. he’s quiet, reserved, and honestly, a little peeved when it comes to talking to you.

you don’t get it. the rest of jujutsu tech seems to accept your presence. sure, you weren’t in japan when the shibuya incident went down, so maybe he just saw you as some outsider who couldn’t grasp the horrors that everyone went through together.

deciding that there’s not much you can do to change choso’s perception of you, you give up. you stop seeking him out. you quit trying to make some sort of friendship happen between you.

that only pisses him off ten times worse.

choso has never experienced feelings like these ever in his lifetime. it’s always been clean cut and dry for him: he either liked someone or he didn’t. there were no grey areas when he was just a curse.

yuji itadori was the one who introduced him to all these… complex emotions. he was still learning day by day what living like a human entailed.

he thought he had it all down… until he met you. now, he felt like a complete contradiction.

your voice was so soft and sweet. it made his heart flutter uncontrollably, which he hated. he wanted to cover your mouth with his palm to shut you up.

your skin looked so smooth and supple. he constantly found himself wondering what it’d feel like if he bit down into it. he wanted to hear what kind of noises you’d make. would you whine from discomfort or moan quietly?

he was physically bigger than you, not that you ever seemed to care. you were constantly there… pestering him. he just wanted to wrap you up in his arms and squeeze you as tightly at he could.

maybe he could but you in some sort of headlock and just hold you there. would you bite him to get away? shit… there it is again.

he growled beneath his breath as his pants feel tight again. he just doesn’t understand. why would his body react this way when he clearly hates you??

he hates the way you make him feel, like he’s unsteady on a tightrope. he hates the way he looks forward to seeing you. he hates how he feels so violent while you’re around, but he doesn’t really wanna hurt you…

it’s all so terrible perplexing. he wants to feel you so close to him that your atoms begin to merge with his.

choso doesn’t fully understand what’s happening to him. that was until your head slowly rested on his shoulder during a debriefing meeting.

it had been a long, grueling mission for everyone involved. he knew you were exhausted, and your cute self decided to take a nap right there on his shoulder.

that’s when things started to click for him as he felt suddenly protective over you. he didn’t want to hurt you. he wanted you for himself.

“oh no, y/n’s asleep. we should wake her, right?” one of the kyoto jujutsu tech students said. he had never bothered to learn her name.

a hand reached towards you, and choso didn’t think twice before he slapped it away. “leave her alone,” he grunted, narrowing his eyes at everyone who was looking at you two. “she’s tired. she needs her rest.”

honestly, everyone was stunned by the fact that choso had spoke up at all, but they were especially surprised that he seemed to be completely content with you sleeping on his shoulder.

his eyes flickered down to your face, making sure you were still sleeping soundly on him. he felt the fluttering sensation in his chest, and his stomach churned. he hated this feeling, but he found himself not wanting this moment to end.

Taglist: @theuniversesnepobaby @airandyeah

[defmaybe]

Party Police

ITZY's Shin Yuna x Male Reader

1.4k words

Sequel to Sticky

A/N: Let’s do a sequel!!! Again, I really love writing Yuna dominant lol, thanks for reading!!! Also, this one doesn't have the "definitely, maybe" line lol.

—

The plane croaks and cries as its wheels touch the runway. It slows down and turns a few times to park. Then, the seatbelt light above is gone.

—

Narita

As far as a company trip goes, this one should give you bragging rights over your friends until death. A spring trip to Tokyo–where every street and building is photogenic. The air is perfect (a bit cold, really, but it’s definitely better than your home).

Of course, it’s a reward from your generous boss, who fought the higher-ups to death for this trip. Your team’s productivity has soared under her reign, as she always brings snacks for your co-workers every single day. And with her bubbly, optimistic attitude, and such a level of competency you don’t dare to compete, they just had to approve this one-week trip at the price of a car.

The secret sessions between you two remain, well, a secret. Though, there has been a running rumor of your boss having a booty call with an employee, but you’re smart enough to play along with the wave, pulling out the ‘yeah, who could that be’ along with a few chuckles.

—

Shibuya, not so far from the crosswalk

The exit of the station has always been so busy, oh, so bustling in its nature. The chill air welcomes you to the afternoon of Shibuya. In front of you is the crosswalk—that goddamn crosswalk. You follow the wave of the people to the landmark, waiting to reach your sanctuary again.

The red stop signal flickers

1 2 3

You stride through the crowd—some holding their phones to capture the moment, some are just trying to reach their destinations as soon as possible.

You walk on the same path that you did years ago, just walking up north to your terminus, and there it is.

You open the glass door, and you feel another breeze from the air conditioners from inside blowing your face. It looks a bit cramped, but it’s definitely well-planned enough for you to see all the new albums. The first floor is mostly decorated with yellow and red–same as the big sign outside.

—

Tower Records

“Hmm, Alvvays, huh?” 

Yuna suddenly appears by your right shoulder, staring at their debut LP you’re holding.

Into your ears, she whispers, “You have a great taste, baby boy.” Her voice is breathy–hints of depth under it.

“You don’t have to leave. You could just stay here with me~” Yuna sings. Her hands are perching on your shoulder as she performs her little swaying with the hips.

“Forget all the party police. We can find comfort in debauchery~.”

With debauchery, her right hand trails down your lithe frame, down the sides, as you’re trying your best to stifle your own moan. The Alvvays disc in your hand is trembling.

“Oh, baby boy, I just wanna eat you right here, among these CDs,”—she continues—“I just wanna have you squirm, one hand holding on Antisocialites, another holding on Blue Rev.”

“M–Miss Shin, what are you s–saying? I d–don’t think it’s appropriate–”

“Shhh, baby boy, it’s not ‘Miss Shin’ here. You know the word, remember?” Yuna giggles at her own words, as you’re sweating at the fear of getting caught inside your own sanctuary. And she doesn’t let your body find its footing so firmly in the section either. She presses you forward, and you step back in response.

A B

“Say it, baby boy. Don’t keep me waiting~,” she teases. She presses you past Carly Rae Jepsen. Emotion runs high on you.

D E F G

“I–I can’t, Miss Shin. This is n–not the place.” You two are on Hatchie; she’s still without a blush. You must be fucking red as a tomato now, judging from how your whole body feels so damn hot.

I J K

Lorde. “Oh, baby boy, I know you wanna say it so, so bad. You just love being under my domination, don’t you?” 

But you can’t just give her a green light that easily, despite how much you just want her to pump your cock right here and now, in Tower Records Shibuya. There’s a matter of shame in play here. Your breaths are out of rhythm, unlike the music out of speaker right now.

M N O

“Ooh, look who it is here,”—Yuna picks up the Brand New Eyes box with both of her hands, pouting—“It’s Paramore! You… are… the only exception~. Am I your exception too?”

Fuck, why is she so irresistible?

Q R S

Taylor Swift appears in your sight on the left, along the steps back. “Y–Yes, M–M–” The thought sprouts in your head now, but you just can’t form the words. You’re, again, enchanted under her spell.

U V

Wolf Alice. “No hard feelings if you can’t say it, baby boy. I’ll just take the subway to Harajuku or somewhere else if that’s what you want, alone, without you~.”

X Y

“Y–Yes.”

“Yes… what, baby boy?”

“Yes, m–m–mommy. Y–You are my exception.” And on Z, you surrender to her.

“Good boy.” Yuna holds your hand, waking up a few butterflies inside you, before guiding you towards….

—

Tower Records’ Bathroom

“Umm, mmph, I’ve been dying to taste this cock for so long, baby boy.” And Yuna supports her point by dragging her filthy tongue along the underside of your length, glistening you with her saliva. And how can you not shudder with that? “I’d say… it’s worth the wait.”

“M–Mommy~,” you groan, eyes fluttering on top of the toilet.

What a sight. Yuna is kneeling on the floor for you in this stall, aiming to please you with her mouth. You can see her cleavage from the above, with her nipples still covered with the black bra. To ramp up the experience, she starts with taking in your whole mushroom tip with no struggle. God, she’s so good.

Her oral expertise continues to astound you, as she twirls her tongue around your tip, gathering any pre-cum leaking out.

“Hmm, I think I should do a bit more before you cum~,” she says, before diving onto the base of your throbbing length with ease.

“F–Fuck! You’re so t–tight, mommy,” you moan, and your hands are holding on to the lid with your dear life, not wanting to fall. Your head is basically leaning on the wall behind you now.

Yuna says nothing, but you can see her smiling on your shaft despite the cheeks being hollowed out to create such otherworldly suction. Fuck. She bobs her head up and down to bring you to the edge. Her gag reflex starts to make her tears welling up, but that doesn’t stop her from pleasuring her favorite employee with her mouth to his hilt.

Every movement of hers is considered, aiming to milk your cock just like she did that time with her right hand, the other grabbing you by your slutty waist—when you were nothing but a toy for her to play with. She hollows her cheeks, as said, to create such otherworldly suction. And that dreamy eye contact while she blows on your hardness, god, who wouldn’t cum within a heartbeat. 

“M–Mommy, I’m gonna cum,” you say, as your hips buck into her with her frenetic movements.

Yuna doesn’t relent her attempts, still gagging profusely on her baby boy’s needy cock. She makes this little whiny sound with every of your thrust, as the end of your digit reaches as far back as it can. Yet, she’s still determined—so fucking determined to please her number one employee. But now, you want just a bit more.

“M–Mommy, y–your tits, p–please.”

She gives in to your plea too easily, but it’s like you’d complain. She quickly discards layers of fabric until her bra is left. And after a few magic tricks of her hands, her last barrier falls off just for you. You savor in the moment of her bare breasts and the stiff nipples under your impending orgasm. Oh, what a sight.

And it’s there, your seed releasing into her throat.

“M–Mommy~,” you whimper.

Your length twitches inside her tight cavern, wanting to squeeze every drop out of you. She doesn’t let any drop leak out of her mouth either, swallowing any residue down to her stomach.

And as you finish, she has to open her mouth and stick out her tongue to show her clean cavern.

“F–Fuck, mommy, w–why, why are you so good?”

“Just for my favorite employee, baby boy.”

—

[phyrestartr]

PR Stunt (Only, Right?) | Sukuna/M!Reader

W/C: 6.9K (oh god lol) #NSFW, fingering, implied fucking, bottom!reader, top!sukuna, angst, fluff, smut, happy ending, Sukuna owns a body shop, reader is an actor, kinda meet cute, ABO dynamics, mpreg, yes there are always babies involved because i love dad sukuna, surprise baby, sukuna is a dickhead (what else is new), Gojo is an actor, Getou is a manager/agent, Toji is a stunt coordinator, Jin is a teacher tags: @kamote-kuneho @better-imagination-9 @flowersatwork @watyousayin 

“Did you sleep with (L. Name) (F. Name)?” 

The question caught Sukuna off guard; normally, Uraume didn't inquire into his personal life in regards to who he had and hadn't slept with. They were a friend, yes, but moreover they were the bookkeeper and helped with securing clients and arranging meetings–celebrities and their managers were fucks that Sukuna didn't like negotiating with. Best to leave the yapping to someone with a cooler head.

“Where the hell did that come from?” Sukuna asked as he rolled out from under the newest commissioned vehicle. 

Uraume walked to him, iPad in hand, and turned it to him, stone cold. 

Sukuna sat up straighter and squinted at the screen, annoyed. You’d probably just made up some salacious rumour and spread it throughout your friend circles; or worse, you wanted revenge on him for something he probably definitely did. In that case, Sukuna could somewhat understand. But still–

(Name) putting on weight? What’s happening to the former bombshell babe of Japan?!

Pregnant with a baby boy?! The secret's out!

(Name) returns to the stage after giving birth to a baby boy–but who is the father?

(Name) driving a Ryoumen Sukuna rescue vehicle?! Could he be the deadbeat dad we've been looking for?

Sukuna sucked his teeth after skimming over the article titles presented to him. 

“...No proof.” 

“Ah. Then please explain this,” Uraume requested, still polite as ever, as they flicked to an additional few images the scumbag paparazzi had caught of you. 

One was the car mentioned. Sukuna remembered it like it was yesterday–the joy of restoring a Porsche 911 back into its former glory was unmatched. You happily paid for all the parts and too often swung by to see the progress being made on the old thing. Obviously, Sukuna was more than happy to oblige. 

The next was of you holding a little nugget of a baby against your chest as you walked down a street in Shibuya. Nothing too damning, nothing too inspirational. 

But the last one–

“The fuck?” Sukuna mumbled as he snatched the iPad from Uraume’s hands and zoomed in on the now-toddler sitting with you in that damn Porsche, grinning brightly beside his mum while you ruffled his hair. His very, very pink hair. 

Sukuna took a breath while he thought. He didn't have to think too hard, though, not when he still dreamed about you and the short-lived fling between the two of you. 

“A Porsche 911, huh?” Sukuna grinned as he looked over the rusted beater of a car. He could still see scraps of its former glory, of the beautiful thing she used to be. Heaven knows she would've become an irreparable hunk of junk if you hadn't bought it from a scrapyard. 

“Yep.” You beamed. “So you think you can make her pretty again?” 

“You kidding? I'd pay you to let me fix this thing, baby.” Sukuna caught sight of your security stepping forward, but you waved them off without a second thought. 

Sukuna smirked. “But it’s not gonna be cheap.” 

You nodded. “Well, do what you have to. I'll pay whatever you need, handsome.” 

“Yeah?” Sukuna asked, looking your neatly-manicured appearance up and down; you were dressed like you were meeting someone of great importance (and you were, obviously), with your hair groomed perfectly, outfit fit for a premiere, skin flawless. 

“Mhm. And I tip well.” you looked him up and down in kind, grinning as you bit at the nub of your sunglasses.

“Done.” 

Every time you came to check on his progress, genuine excitement flooding in your motormouthed words, you'd go home with him and fuck him silly. 

And now, you were the momma to his baby. Allegedly. 

“I–so what the fuck does this have to do with anything?” Sukuna ran a frustrated hand through his hair after Uraume took the tablet back. “Bitch isn't asking for anything, he's not asking me to be his public fucking baby daddy, not asking me to pay for nothing?” 

“No,” Uraume conceded, “But he and his PR managers have reached out concerning this.” 

The man groaned and stood. “Fucking hell. Can't stand fucking PR teams. The fuck did they want?” 

“They want to make a statement about Touma's father.” 

Sukuna froze.

“Touma's a good name for a boy, right?” 

You asked the question so suddenly, so out of nowhere in the quiet of the afterglow. The city lights sparkled and winked at you both through the towering windows keeping you safe from the outside world. In hindsight, Sukuna would wonder if the city was excited for him. For you. 

“What, for a mutt?” Sukuna drawled, puffing on a blunt while he played with your hair and drowned in the tingles left in the wake of fingers drawing circles on his bare chest. 

“For a kid,” you chastised with a laugh. “I like Touma. Or Touka for a girl. Ayato's nice, too. Maybe Kazue.” 

“You better not be pregnant.”

“I'm not, I'm not. I'm just getting baby fever, I guess.” You hummed and left a sweet kiss against his tan skin. “I guess being around a big, bad boy like you's got me feeling domestic.” 

Sukuna laughed, dazed and happy. “You wanna ruin this pretty lil’ body for a fucking kid? Be my guest. Just don't come looking for a booty call after you've ruined yourself like that.” 

“Oh, don't worry,” you cooed. “I won't.” 

Man. Man. 

“A statement.” 

“In other words–”

“I'm not the fucking father.” 

“This might be a good way to get Yorozu off your case,” Uraume suggested, and Sukuna perked up. 

“Right. She fuckin’ hates kids.” 

“So, if you were to have a son, and it's revealed you've been quietly trying to make things work behind the scenes with (Name), then hypothetically–”

“I'll take the runt.”

Truth is out–Ryoumen Sukuna is the father, (Name) tells fans on social media!

Sukuna hated seeing that shit. The circus celebrities had to dance through used to be funny until he somehow got swept up into it. Until he suddenly had a baby boy that looked so much like him and so much like you. 

He spent too much time on your socials, scrolling through promotion posts and photos of you at red carpet events and premieres–and then he remembered you had a private account. One that you said he could follow. One that he never followed.

Sukuna rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling as he sulked in bed. Was he really about to sacrifice his pride for this? Was he seriously gonna request to follow your personal account just moments after articles dropped and tweets were sent about him being the baby daddy? Could his pride take it? 

Fuck me. This shit is highschool. 

He requested to follow, and not even a minute later, you approved it. 

That had him interested. Did you want him to follow? Did you want him to be part of his little guy's life? Were you feeling a rush of anxiety and excitement like he was right now? 

“Get over it, you fucking idiot,” he mumbled to himself before scrolling through your photos. 

There was so much more here. So many photos of you pregnant, of Touma when he was so ridiculously itty bitty, of when you were recovering in the hospital, looking worn out and exhausted, but still beaming as you held your little boy. 

There were photos of his first birthday and the cute…rustic cake you'd apparently made yourself. Your agent, Getou, was there, as was one of your fellow agency mates, Gojo, along with some other folks Sukuna did and didn't recognize. 

Of course, his boy–your boy lit up the centre, eyes glittering with the reflection of sparklers and the warmth of a good, safe home. He was happy. The boy–his boy–your boy was happy. 

Then he called you. He couldn't help it, not anymore.

Sukuna paced around his penthouse, sipping on his spiked coffee and trying to desperately control his…nerves? Alpha instincts? Excitement? Fuck, he didn't know. But he was full of whatever it was, and it drove him nuts.

“Hi!” You answered as you picked up, so full of life as usual. “Been a while. How're you? What's up?” 

Sukuna felt so, so old suddenly. Why were you so awake in the morning? 

“Think you can spare some of that pep in your step for me?” Sukuna asked. He smiled when he heard you laugh on the other line. “Dunno how the hell you're so awake in the morning.”

“Well, I don't party or work on cars until the crack of dawn,” you purred back, so sweet and teasing. Sukuna almost got hard. Ugh. Ugh. What the fuck was wrong with him? 

“Hah? What, you sayin’ I'm irresponsible ‘n make shitty choices, babe?” 

“Absolutely.” 

“Tch. Omegas.” 

You snickered again before cutting to the chase: “So, you're calling about my Touma?”

Sukuna swallowed. “Yeah. Gotta say I'm pretty fucking confused.”

“Yeah, I get it.” He heard you shift in bed, triggering a rumble of grumpy noises from your little one. You hushed him gently and apologized before the small, crackly purring resumed faintly in the background. The thought made Sukuna's heart ache.

“What do you wanna know?” 

Sukuna inhaled deeply. “Why'd you keep it?” 

“I wanted him,” you said. “Next question.”

“...When did you know?” 

“Mmh…I guess about a week or two after we stopped hooking up.”

“And you didn't say shit?” 

You went silent for a moment, and Sukuna felt his nerves tingle and prick. He wasn't anxious. He wasn't feeling betrayed. It wasn't any of that. Absolutely not. 

“I guess I got cold feet,” you admitted. “I don't--I know how many baby daddy accusations you get, y'know? I didn't want you to think I was just trying to get you to pay me out or something.” 

Oh. Okay. That made sense, actually. 

Too many omegas and women Sukuna fucked around with pointed the finger at him if they caught some sort of STI or fell pregnant; even if it was months after fucking, Sukuna would be suspected of fathering the pregnancy of a newly-pregnant, ex-partner he hadn't seen in eternities, and the media would run to the ends of the earth with it. He was the infamous bad boy the media circuit loved to prey on. And Sukuna didn't really care for it–not until now. Not until those fucks ruined his opportunity to be a dad. 

“Fucking–” Sukuna sighed and put his mug down to rub his face. “Shit. Shit. Fucking media bastards. Fuck.”

“I need to get my car tuned,” you said.

Sukuna deadpanned. “Read the fucking room, babe, we're not–”

“Do you want me to bring Touma?” You finished, undeterred by the alpha's grouchiness. “So you can meet him? I think he'd like that.”

Oh. Oh. Ouch. His heart–was Sukuna about to die? Why'd his chest hurt so much? What the fuck? 

Sukuna cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair. “I–yeah? Yeah. Alright.” 

“Okay, cool. When's your next–” 

“Tomorrow.” He cleared his throat again and scratched at the back of his neck. “Any time.” 

You stifled a laugh poorly. “Don’t be nervous, Sukuna.” 

“M'not. Fuck you.” 

“I can do tomorrow. Let's saaay…1pm?” 

“Yeah, sure. 1pm.”

You rolled up at 12:59pm. 

Sukuna had the garage open, everything tidy and ready to go like he actually gave a fuck about tuning your car when his literal fucking son was about to be in his presence. But he was so not nervous. Definitely not fucking nervous. Nope. Nuh-uh. Never. 

You stepped out of the car and Sukuna felt his heart jump; you looked the same as you did last time he saw you. You were dressed more casually, though, done up in joggers and runners with a university hoodie to top it all off. Clearly, you didn't care to impress today. 

You threw Sukuna an easy smile before pulling open the back door and taking care in plucking your chubby bunny from his car seat. All the while, Sukuna wandered closer and closer, but maintained a respectful distance just in case your momma bear came out to bite. He knew you had an impressive temper when your easy-going self got pushed too far, and he would rather not bring that out right now. 

“Pa!” Your son yipped as soon as he got up into your arms. “Puh Pa!” 

You melted immediately, punching Sukuna in the gut with your happy scent of maple syrup and cardamom as the little one nuzzled up to you, repeating variants of “pa!” as he rubbed his chubby cheeks and snotty nose against your neck and face to get that perfect scent onto him. 

“You're so sweet, bunny,” you cooed and adjusted him in your arms as you met Sukuna the rest of the way. “Hey, hey! So, did you want to meet him first, or–?” 

Sukuna didn't know what the fuck to do, honestly. 

“I, uh. Car shit first. What needs tuning?” He drawled, watching the pup clinging to you with rapt attention. 

Admittedly, Sukuna didn't really pay attention to what you were saying and what you were gesturing to; he was too captivated by the faint wisps of scent he caught from your little one. He smelled of smoke and syrup–a perfect combination of his parents’ scents. 

And he just looked so much like the both of you. Touma's skin tone tilted more your direction, but the glowy, bronzey quality that Sukuna brought to the table still shone through in its own weird way. His eyes were almond-shaped like his own, but bore the same, welcoming colour of yours. And, fuck, his hair was just a perfect match to Sukuna's. If the little shit got Maori tattoos too, he'd be a tiny carbon copy. 

Damn. Speaking of–would his mom wanna meet the little shit? Her grandson? Would she ever bother leaving Hawaii to–

“You get all that?” You asked. 

Sukuna stared at you. “Get what?” 

You pursed your lips like you so often did and turned to the big, bad alpha. 

“Maybe we should do the meet ‘n greet first, huh?” You swayed a little and kissed Touma awake. “Baby, you wanna meet a friend?” 

“Buh!” Touma exclaimed. You gently guided his little face to look at Sukuna, and the boy looked star struck staring up at the absolute unit that was Ryoumen Sukuna. 

“Touma, this is Sukuna.” You closed the gap between the two of you a little more, and Sukuna leaned down to look at the little one. His little one. 

Sukuna twitched a smile as he looked over the little thing. “You sure this thing’s mine? Looks a little small.” 

You laughed. “If you were born as big as you are, I’m so, so sorry for your mother.” You nuzzled Touma’s little cheek and bounced him a little. 

“Wuh!” Touma’s little arms flew up towards Sukuna, and the towering man looked a little more than nervous, looking at the tiny pudgy hands like they were deadly weapons. 

“Come on, don’t look at him like that.” You took Sukuna’s hand and delivered it to Touma. “He’s curious. He hasn’t met anyone as big and tall as you, y’know?” 

Sukuna huffed, but let the little one grab at his fingers and hold his hand. “What, you don’t have another alpha looking after you? Hard to believe that. You're the neediest little bitch I know.” 

“Stop. I'm not Yorozu,” you huffed, and Sukuna cringed at the name. “He has alphas around, sure. But not big ones like you–security excluded. It's not like other men want to play nice with another alpha's pup.” 

Sukuna caught the hint of a frown on your face, and his hackles started to rise. 

“Some dumbfuck giving you grief?” Sukuna asked, voice rolling with thunderous promise. He'd kill whatever moron fucked with you and his pup. You just had to drop the name.

You sighed, light-hearted. “You know what the rich and famous are like--we're the worst.” 

Sukuna growled, and Touma mimicked the noise as best as he could with his pathetically teeny tiny crackled voice. Fuckin’ cute as shit. 

“Tch. Don't sell yourself short.” 

“I'm just trying to say I don't need that around my boy, and I sure as hell don't want it around me, either.” You nodded and stepped closer as Touma reached up for Sukuna again. Apparently just holding his hand wasn't doing it for the boy anymore. 

“Good. Don't need those pathetic fucks around the runt–oi, wait, what the fuck're you–” 

“Wup, wup!” Your son shrieked as you helped bully Sukuna into holding him.

“He wants uppies.” 

“Uppies,” Sukuna balked.

“He wants you to–okay, you're bad at this–don't hold him like that! Here, do it like–” you cut off as you helped Sukuna get a comfortable hold on Touma while the littlest one squirmed and squeaked in delight, trying to climb up onto Sukuna's shoulder but failing miserably. 

Sukuna twitched a smile as you sighed, exasperated by the ball of energy trying to scale the mountainous man. But he got a hold of him, tucking his arm under his butt and holding his back to make sure the little shit didn't go plummeting to the floor. 

“You give your ma hell, huh? I can get behind that,” Sukuna hummed. His son's little hands papped at his face, grabbing at his nose and jaw–specifically over the dark tattoos streaking along the curves and cut of his features. 

And you smiled the entire time. You pursed your lips tightly to hide it, but you did it so poorly. You always did. Maybe it was on purpose. 

“So, can I tell you about my car problems now?” 

Sukuna held onto his runt while you explained what flaws, either cosmetically or mechanically, were bothering you. It mostly consisted of slight dents from other assholes not knowing how to park, paint scratches, and more of that sort. As a fellow car guy, Sukuna could understand the anguish of having a favourite baby get all dinged up. 

“Not hard to fix,” Sukuna decided. He held the hood up with one hand and looked over the motor–everything looked clean and well-maintained. He was almost impressed. “But, well, it'll cost ya. Uraume can send the details.” 

You nodded. “Sure, sure, sounds good. I'm never taking this thing on the road again after it's fixed. Too many fucking idiots out there with piss poor driving skills.” 

The mechanic smirked. “Ho? So beating up your car is what makes you start cussin’, huh? Noted.” He let the hood fall closed and adjusted his hold on the now-sleeping tot. “Couldn't even get you to do that in bed.” 

“Psht, don't say that in front of the baby, Sukuna, jeeze,” you sighed and rubbed your face. “Babies remember more than you'd like to know.” 

“Huh. You think he'll remember when he got–” 

“No, he won't remember his inception.” You laughed and shook your head, but paused when you saw smears of concealer on your fingers and tutted. 

“How long's the car gonna take? Should I get a rental?” You asked before the man could comment.

“Probably, if you want me to detail this thing right,” Sukuna mumbled. He reached out and turned your chin back to him, looking at the spots concealer missing, hinting at dark circles under your eyes. 

Your face grew hot, but you nodded and cleared your throat. “Yeah, okay. I'll, uh. I'll call someone to pick us up–” 

“I'll take you home.” 

You brightened the slightest bit. “Yeah? I–okay.” You pulled his hand from your face and smiled. “I'll grab the car seat.” 

Sukuna liked your house. It was a nice mix of traditional and modern with large stretches of woodgrain and bamboo. A neat outdoor garden and pond decorated the front, but a bigger, more lush collection of tropical plants greeted guests. It was beautiful, if one was desperate to be in nature. 

“I'm just gonna get him to bed, be one second.” 

Sukuna nodded and pocketed his hands as he pretended to not watch you trot upstairs with the sleepy cub melting in your arms. You still had a nice ass even after popping that little melon out. Huh. 

He looked around your space more, wandering with slow, lumbering steps. The house wasn't huge by any means, but it was cozy and warm, quiet and hidden away from the city's gaze. That was probably why you chose it–here, you could be honest with yourself. You could shield your babe from the brutality of your career and keep him safe from leering eyes. Honestly, one of the leaves on your giant monstera could hide him from the whole universe. 

Guy's too obsessed with growing shit. It ticked him off, but he didn't know why. 

Maybe it was all the photos of you and Touma. Maybe it was because he wasn't in them and too many other men were in his place, lining your walls in the protection of cheap IKEA frames–but Sukuna didn't want you. No, no, Ryoumen Sukuna did not want anyone. He didn't want you. He didn't need to settle down and–

“You want a glass of wine?” You asked when you came back down the stairs. “It's plum wine. Don't really have any scotch or anything, but I–” 

Sukuna scoffed before a mocking laugh slipped out of him. You paused, looking at him with bleak attention as he shook his head and pocketed his hands. Your request for him to stay pissed him off; clearly, you expected something more from him.

“Whaddaya think is gonna happen here, huh? You think we're gonna fall in love, pick up where we left off, have a happy little fuckin’ family to tell the tabloids about?” 

“What?” You asked. “I never–”

“Didn't have to. Gotta admit, you did a better job than the rest of the whores that tried wrangling me in to–”

“All I asked,” you cut him off, voice quiet but firm, “Is if you wanted wine. I’m not proposing, Sukuna.” 

Sukuna didn’t like that. The whole…not-being-into-him and not wanting him to stick around after he just shut you down. He sucked his teeth and took a breath, about to say something, but you spoke first. 

“I know this is a PR thing. I know how the whole media circus works–you want your ex to stop bothering you, and I want people to stop asking questions about who the fucking father of my son is.” You paused, staring Sukuna dead in his eyes, a quiet, simmering rage boiling just beneath the surface of placid control. 

“Call my manager when the car’s done,” you decided, sounding beaten down and exhausted. “I’ll send someone for it. Thanks for the ride home.”

Next thing the man knew, he was ushered toward the door and stood in the doorway, stuck on the idea of being kicked out of his omega’s–no, no, out of an omega’s house like he was trash. 

“Fucking–wait, just–” 

“What?” You snapped.

“I could–glass of wine doesn’t sound too bad–”

You shoved the bottle into his hands and slammed the door. 

Sukuna tried to sleep it off–as in, he slept around to forget about the crushing weight of rejection collapsing down on him, shattering his chest, spearing his heart with shattered bone. 

You still kept being so fucking nice to him, too. You never slandered him, never spoke ill whenever he was asked about in interviews–you spared his reputation with a kind smile every time you had to talk about him or to him. 

And he was grateful for it, even if he didn't return the favor. It's not like he was on a smear campaign, no, but anytime a hook up would ask about you, he wouldn't give a glowing review, per se. But it wouldn't be scalding either. Just sheer indifference tainted with drops of bitterness stemming from unripe guilt.

It went on like that for months–until you did your parental duties, and set aside your feelings about Sukuna for the sake of your son.

“Uraume, get that,” Sukuna called as his phone rang. He was too busy fucking around under the hood of his latest project to wipe his hands free of grease and pick up himself, obviously.

But Uraume was there for a reason. They picked up the phone with a polite hello before their sharp frigidity melted into rounded edges. 

“(Name)-san,” they hummed. “It's good to hear from you. Do you need to talk to Sukuna-san?” 

Sukuna started wiping his hands off so unbelievably fast. 

“He's working on a car right now. You know how he can be when he's focused.”

“Fucking–piece of shit–what the fuck–” somehow, he got even more grease and oil on his hands thanks to that stupid fucking rag. God, what a nightmare.

“Sure, I can take a message.” 

“Fuckin’ shit fuck, fuck.” He wiped his hands on his designer jeans before running to Uraume and gesturing for the phone.

Uraume's brows raised, and they actually smiled. 

“Ah, hold on, Sukuna-san's here.” 

Sukuna snatched up the phone, ignoring the knowing look glimmering in Uraume’s eyes. Ugh. Ugh. Betas.

“Hey,” Sukuna said after clearing his throat. 

“Hey! Ume said you were working on a car? You didn't have to stop to talk.” 

“Yeah, well.” Sukuna shrugged to himself and kicked a scrapped car part, sending it skittering across the ground and clanking into other parts. Jesus, when did his shop get so messy? “Needed a break anyway.” 

“Ah. You work too hard, you need to take breaks more often,” you laughed sweetly. “So, listen, Touma's birthday's coming up–”

“Shit, seriously?” Sukuna grinned and kicked another chopped part. “Fuck. How old's the little shit turning?” 

“Two! He's growing up so fast, I wish I could slow down time and–” you paused and laughed, suddenly sounding unsure and a bit nervous. “Sorry, sorry, was about to go on a tangent. Anyway, there is a little get-together, but you don't have to come. Satoru and Toji'll be there. But your brother and his son'll be there, too, so it won't suck completely.

“Otherwise, if you want to come see him earlier or something, that's fine, and–and you're not cutting me off and I didn't think I'd get this far so I'm losing the plot.” 

Sukuna huffed. “What, you don't want me to fuckin’ listen, huh?” 

“I know you will since I have such a pretty voice, but I'm surprised you're being a good boy for once.” 

The mechanic rolled his eyes and rubbed his face. Who knows if it was to wipe away embarrassment or fatigue. 

“You’re exhausting.” 

“And you’re a dick.” There was a special brand of teasing bitterness behind those words, but the vibes were balanced perfectly; seemed you were still cranky about what he said, but you were willing to let it slide.

Sukuna chuckled, relaxing the slightest bit. “Alright. I don't know what the fuck kids like at that age, but I'll figure somethin’ out. I can at least show up Jin.” 

“Wow.” 

“Text me time and place. I'll be there.” After a moment, he added, “I’ll bring some plum wine. Fancy shit.”

The hidden rumble of a purr snuck its way out from your side, and Sukuna did everything he could to suppress his alpha's reciprocation.

“Sounds good. See you then, Sukuna.”

Toji answered the door. 

“Hah. Why the hell are you here?” The fuckhead ex-Zenin asked with a stupid, shitty smirk on his dumbass face. 

Sukuna strained not to throw the first punch. He really shouldn't murder someone at his--your son's birthday party. Murder is bad. Murder is bad. 

“Fuck you.” Hey, at least it wasn't murder. “‘M here for my fucking kid.” 

Toji crossed his arms and suddenly looked beyond bored as he leaned against the doorframe. 

“Your kid? You mean (Name)’s kid?” He wondered, putting on a show of thinking. “Weird.”

“You're one to talk. You forgetting what you did to your own brat? You fuckin’--”

“Sukuna!” Your sweet voice called, instantly changing the atmosphere. “Glad you came. Do you–oi, Toji, move, stop bodyguarding. You're not a bouncer.”

“Eh?” Toji stayed in his spot as you smacked at his arm and tried to push him away. “I'm just standing here. Not bodyguarding. Minding my business.” 

“You’re so full of shit.” You wheezed and squeaked as the man suddenly gave way, nearly making you crash into him and plummet to the floor. But you caught yourself and hissed at the dark-haired menace until he whistled innocently and waltzed away. 

“Fucking--why’s he here again?” Sukuna grumbled as you let him in. He leaned down to nose at your cheek with a grumpy, quiet grunt--typical greeting procedures for an interested individual or bonded pair. But the way you choked on whatever you were about to say meant he must've caught you off guard. 

“He's uh–we work together. We've worked together? He was the stunt coordinator for some movies I've been in.” You cleared your throat and took the present bag from Sukuna to place with the others. “And I babysit Gumi sometimes.” 

“Gumi? What the fuck is a Gumi?” 

“Megumi? His son?” Oh. Oh. “I babysit Yuuji too, so. Thick as thieves, y'know?” 

Sukuna nodded a little, thinking hard on the lore. He liked that Yuuji was taken care of by you, but surely that wretched Gumi could go somewhere else. Toji was probably just leeching off of you. 

“Oi, Momma, get in here,” Toji crowed from wherever all the baby giggles and excitement bubbled from in the house. “Your boys need some maternal guidance–” 

“Toji, don't make it weird!” Jin whisper-yelled before going on a long-winded rant about this and that, about proper behaviour and attitudes in front of children (not that the kids were paying attention to anything Toji did). 

You gave Sukuna a tired smile. “Come on. It won’t be that bad, I promise.”

Sukuna sighed, but let you drag him to his demise, bottle of wine in-hand.

But it wasn’t that bad. Not really. 

Your other boys, Gojo Satoru and Getou Suguru, showed up and showered tiny Touma with way too much praise and far too many gifts, but the little shit looked so pleased that Sukuna couldn’t get too annoyed. Shoko and Uraume came by, too, much to Sukuna’s surprise. Uraume brought with them a whole fucking confectionary cake they’d crafted themselves at home. Gojo obsessed over it and Getou tried to reign him in to no avail. 

And the night went on. No one talked shit, not unless it was in good fun, no one got fucking hammered, no one talked about work–it was all about the kids. Nothing else. No one else. 

Sukuna could never guess just how far that truth went.

When everyone left for the night, the alpha could start to see the edges of your smile fraying. But you held on, thanking everyone for the gifts and for showing up for Touma, and especially thanking Jin for offering to let all the little ones spend the night at his place (you and Toji would forever be in his debt). 

Then, when the door closed and all fell silent, he heard you cry. 

Sukuna didn't know what to do about people crying. He never had. Even when he was a kid, he had a hard time trying to comfort people with hugs and words of reassurance–he just couldn't do it. 

“It's okay,” he heard you whisper. “It's okay. It's okay. You're okay. It's okay. I'm okay.” 

Sukuna got up and leaned against the doorway to the kitchen. “Sure about that?”

You jumped and clasped a hand over your mouth to stifle your scream. Sukuna barked out an ugly, reedy laugh while he defended himself from your petty smacks and pinches. 

“You scared the fuck out of me–why're you still even here? Go home! Shoo!” You wiped your eyes once you were done harassing him and turned away, busying yourself with cleaning up dishes and wrapping paper left in the aftermath. 

Sukuna followed you idly, a shit-eating grin still plastered on his face. What could he say? He loved seeing you get all petty and riled up. But he didn't love seeing you cry. He didn't love seeing you try to stealthily wipe tears away, to try and steady your shaky breathing. 

“What’s going on with you, babe?” Sukuna asked as he settled beside you at the sink. 

“It's nothing,” you said with a snuffle. “It's seriously nothing. Sorry, I--you don't need to stay. Or anything.” You sighed and rubbed at your eyes with your sleeve. “You've done your fatherly duties. You're free to leave.” 

“Yeah? ‘N what about my baby daddy duties?” He wondered, voice so horribly low and comforting, like the buzzing crackle of a campfire. 

You laughed, watery and shaky. “You already did everything you needed to, Sukuna.” 

“Come on, don't cockblock me like that.” He gently tilted your Chin his way to catch your eyes just like he had back at the shop all those months ago. “Look at me.” 

You did. Your eyes were red and irritated, whatever pretty boy make up you wore was wiped off and smudged, and those heavy, dark bags met the light in front of someone else for the first time in a long time. 

You still had the gall to laugh it off and pull Sukuna's hand from your face with a small, “I'm fine,” though. 

“Then why the hell are you crying?” He asked. 

You squeezed his hand with both of yours. “Things are just…hard. Overwhelming.”

Sukuna nodded a bit. “That why Jin took the runts tonight?” 

“Yeah. Needed some time, I guess.” You snuffled and wiped your face with both hands before finishing up with cleaning. “Makes me sound like a shit parent, I know.” 

Sukuna couldn’t disagree more. “Least you're not flipping out on the kid. That'd be way shittier, yeah?” 

“I don't know. I guess, but–yeah. I don't know.” 

Sukuna sighed and scooped you up like a new bride. “You're driving me fucking mental.”

“Sukuna–!”

“Quiet.” Your omega indeed piped down at the grouchy command, and you shyly let the man carry you up the steps to find your bedroom. “You're getting some damn rest. You look like shit.” 

You grumbled something Sukuna elected to ignore in favour of tossing you onto a bed the way one might lob a stone into a pond. You landed with a warbled squawk and looked at Sukuna with horribly accusatory, baffled eyes. 

Sukuna quirked a brow as he looked down on you, gladly using his broad build and tall stature to secure your submission. And it worked; the aggravated spark in your eyes curled up and fell silent after a few long seconds. Your head lowered just the slightest bit, too, but your passive gaze remained stuck on him, waiting for his next move. 

“Fine,” you grumbled. 

Sukuna raised his brows and eased onto the bed, caging you underneath him with his solid frame. Your scent flickered with shy playfulness, and Sukuna relished in it. 

“How do I know you're gonna obey, omega?” 

“I guess you don't. Not for certain,” you admitted begrudgingly. 

“Tch. Someone's gotta keep you accountable then, huh?” He nosed at your neck, nearly letting his lips touch your neck but refusing to do so in the same instance. “Make sure you're doing the right thing, make sure you're behaving.” 

One of his hands squeezed at your soft thigh before inching up little by little. Your hands found themselves in his hair as he teased at your joggers’ waistband, pulling the elastic taut before letting it go. 

“Sukuna,” you laughed, sounding a little breathless. “I, uh–I thought you said–”

“Changed my mind.”

“But–”

“Forget what I said and let me make you cum on my fingers, brat.” 

Oh. Well, hard to argue against that. 

You swallowed but gave a meek nod. He ripped your bottoms off and felt up your blazing skin with rough, calloused hands, groping and grabbing in the same spots he liked back when you were hooking up: your thighs, your hip bones, the squish of your stomach. As much as the man harped on about not wanting “damaged goods,” he sure worshiped your body like it was brand new, untouched. 

Sukuna brought his fingers to your mouth, and you took them with utmost compliance. Your tongue worked against his digits thoughtfully and thoroughly for your own sake–a lack of starter lube wouldn't end well, after all. And Sukuna was not the most patient man in the sack.

“See?” Sukuna crowed into your ear as his hand traveled south and a finger sunk into you. “It's not so bad to just behave, now is it?” 

You already felt like you were about to explode, and Sukuna savoured It. He liked being the one to do this to you–the only one for a while, considering how tight and sensitive you were. Any little push or prod inside you brought sweet sighs and soft moans to the surface–and a second and third finger had your hips bucking and your nails digging into his shoulder and back as he finger-fucked you to oblivion while still caging you in. 

“Good omega,” he cooed. “Gonna cum already, huh? Tch, you shoulda said no one’s been taking care of you; I would’ve taken my parental responsibilities more seriously.” His lips and teeth landed on your neck, as you curled up into him, body tensing, heels digging into the mattress, panting and gasping getting louder and faster. The sound made his pants strain even more. 

“Fuck, you smell fucking good. Better than when I fucked you the first time.” 

“I-I forgot you talked so much in bed,” you managed out. “Could you just–shut up?”

Sukuna growled, and you whined. “You want me to shut up, huh? You wanna listen to your slick fucking hole getting spread open, plowed into? You miss me that much, omega?”

“No.” You hissed and clung to his upper arm as he somehow managed to take it up a notch, slipping his fourth finger in and spreading you obscenely wide. 

“I think you did. Think you were hopin’ I’d come around, plow you into the bed again, stuff you full like no one else can.” 

“Sukuna–”

“I’ll fill this hole up all you want, baby–I’ll even stuff another pup in you. Twins. You want that, huh? You gonna be my omega from now on? Creaming on my cock ‘n fingers the way you shoulda been the day you walked your perfect, little ass into my life?” 

“Shut up, shut up, shut up–” you choked on a gasp and bit into his shoulder, soaking his shirt with drool and shuddered mewls while your body tightened and ecstasy hit like the weight of Sukuna’s words–brutal, fast, honest. 

Sukuna moaned in sympathy, ignoring the way his hand and arm cramped and ached to keep pistoning into you and draw out your high. He couldn't help it–something about you drove him mad in that moment. It could have been how you made his ego swell, it might've been the way his greed needed your slick staining his and only his skin, perhaps it could have been a quiet yearning coming from his lonely, hollow alpha. He didn't know. But he didn't question it. 

Your body started to relax with the death grip you had on his shoulder as you came down from the sudden, electric high. Your hips still jolted with every slow, lazy push into your soft hole, though a haze of purring and cooing filled the spot where gasps and moans once did. Eventually, you melted off of him and collapsed onto your back, looking as content as a cat lounging in the sun. 

“Oi, oi, you're not done yet, sweetheart.” But if you said you were done, he might've listened. Just that once. 

You hummed something as you looked up at him, eyes doey and so egregiously lovey-dovey. 

“That's a nice face. Make sure you save it just for me,” Sukuna gently commanded, and you laughed. 

“Demanding. I thought you didn't like used goods.” 

Sukuna scowled. “Shut up.” His free hand traced the stripes of stretched skin left in the wake of bearing his baby boy. “I like ‘em when they're used by me.”

“Does that really make them ‘used goods,’ then?” You murmured as if speaking logic too loud would break Sukuna's entranced obsession of you. 

But maybe, maybe, you had a point. 

��Guess I'll have to think on that.” His fingers slipped out of you and he gave you a wet slap on the ass to wake you up. Your subsequent squeak sure as hell woke Sukuna up. 

“Ow. Gross.” 

“I'm not finished with you, brat. Don't get too fuckin’ content, yeah?” He smirked when you glanced at his crotch expectantly. “You want me to fuck you?”

“Please.”

Sukuna sighed and settled between your legs as he futzed with his belt and button. “Could put up a bit of a fight.” 

“Too tired.” You yawned and stretched with a pleased sigh. “No will to argue.” 

The alpha leaned down to bite at your knee, and you pulled your legs together to avoid his chunky, rude fangs. You knew he'd delight in making you bleed or leaving dark bruises. He was the worst. 

“Still got a little fight left in ya,” Sukuna said with a grin. “Let's see how much more we can find, hm?”

[suksatoru]

𝓈𝓌𝑒𝑒𝓉 𝓉𝑒𝓂𝓅𝓉𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝓈.

╰┈➤ sukuna! x reader! ೃ⁀➷

synopsis; you'd gone to bed the previous night with yuji, and unknowingly found yourself cuddling the king of curses when you wake up.

ೄྀ ࿐ this is the long awaited part three! thank you all so much for the love i recivied on part one and two!! thats like - 5k notes combined?! i love u all 🥹 <3

part one | part two.

Ryomen Sukuna liked to think of himself as a patient man.

The things in life he'd acquired had taken time, years of pining and blood spilled always ended one way - with him on top.

That is what you finally understand as you struggle to stand, the air foggy with debris and the crumpled remains of what was once buildings that scaled the skies. Yuji was gone - somewhere far away, and all that remained was the hardened monster known as Sukuna.

He was looking for you - you could feel it. His presence was known before you could even open your eyes, quiet sobs racking your chest as you plead for him to let go - but he cradles your scalp against his palm roughly and twists you so you're looking him right in the eyes

He doesn't look anything like your Yuji - that's all you can think as his scarlet eyes bore into yours with a menacing grin widening on his face

Those same hands were used to destroy hundreds of lives just a few minutes before - and now he used them to swipe the dust and tears that lined your eyes as his hand wraps around your throat - not enough to hurt you, but enough to have you whimpering under his grasp.

"Asshole - just kill me." You choke out - voice hoarse as your wet lashes lift with the little strength you have left to glare at him. But it looks more like a pout to him, and something primal inside him stirs at the sight.

You were so soft - so feminine and tender and sweet. He's never wanted anything in his life so badly.

"You will make a vow to me, Y/n L/n. And I promise you, I will return Itadori back to you." He spoke lowly, letting his sharp teeth graze the shell of your ear as a quiet gasp leaves your mouth from the sensation of having him so close

There was no way his vow meant something good for you - it was set in stone, you were doomed if you agreed. And every alarm in your mind was ringing to say no, even if it meant he'd kill you right where you stood

You doubt he'd switch with Yuji - you didn't put it pass the King of Curses to lie.

"Please - please stop it." You whisper, pressing your eyes closed so you wouldn't have to look him in the eye - he gently squeezed your throat in an almost mocking way, it had your eyes squeezing in pure fear as you waited for him to snap your neck.

"Look at me."

And you do. Maybe it was the authority in his voice - there was no questioning it, your body reacted right when your heart jumped at the sound of him instead of letting your mind try and think for itself-

"Soon enough I will rule over this world - you must bind yourself to me. Swear you will be by my side when I succeed."

You're blinking back at him, mind dizzy and hurting as you let out a huff- Sukuna almost wants to laugh in your face. You just watched him slaughter and destroy Shibuya right in front of your very own eyes, yet here you were - stubborn as ever and talking back to him.

You thought you were dancing the line between life and death- but Sukuna wasn't going to kill you. Not now, not ever. Yuji was a distraction, something blocking the King of Curses from the real portrait he yearned to see. You.

Sukuna will teach you a lesson about manners later - but now, right now - his only focus is getting you to agree to this vow. He cannot rest knowing you're not his.

"If you don't agree, he dies."

He watches the color drain from your face, and he almost wants to kill the pink haired boy known as Yuji Itadori for having you wrapped around his stupid little finger. He watches your lip tremble - and something inside Sukuna entices him to press his mouth onto yours.

He's seen Yuji do it a hundred times before - has seen the way you tilt your head to meet your boyfriend's affections. You're too weak to fight back right now - so Sukuna tilts your head for you so you can meet his lips.

His mouth is warm - that's all you can think as his heat envelops you entirely, and Sukuna cannot think of a feeling quite as wonderful as the way you mumble his name against his lips

Ryomen.

"Swear." He rasps breathlessly, and he watches your resolve crumble as a broken sob leaves your lips

"I swear."

A deal with the devil is made. There was no way out for you now- not for Sukuna's sweetest temptation.

taglist! ⋆｡°✩ @kirsoup @elliebelliegi @csolya @emoedgylord @dynakats @chrissythisisforyousworld @smolbeanzzz @nxcxllxsevens @hyeon-yi heheheh this took a while woooo. sorry for all the people who had to wait so long :)) ❤️‍🩹

[actuallyberriesarebananas]

Just My Type

Anime/Manga: Blue Lock by Muneyuki Kaneshiro

Itoshi Rin x GN!Reader (they/them)

Word Count: 2k+399

Summary: During an approaching winter in Shibuya, the Blue Lock boys went to fetch Nagi at the arcade to enjoy their week deserved break. However, they have stumbled to see BL's manager waiting in the cold and these teenage boys had come up with some interesting theories on your type of lover.

A/N: Reader is referred as manager here. It felt odd seeing Y/N xD I can't take it seriously after the whole AOT Y/N thing.

Also, I'm not a Rin fan but I like his character and thought the plot idea suits him hehe

⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆

Isagi thought the day at Shibuya would go by smoothly, in contrast with the incoming traffic flowing beside their walking lane.

What he didn't expect though is having a rowdy group of boys (himself included) hiding concernigly and inconspicuously behind almost transparent bushes and two tall vending machines which unfortunately didn't conceal much since Bachira and Otoya kept unintentionally nudging their heads against each other to peek at the victim who had caused this predicament.

The others did not offer much help at the situation either when Isagi dejected at the side, seeing the tallest members of the group hiding behind small bushes. "Forgive us" he muttered your name in pity.

It did not feel right to be hiding like this from Blue Lock's resident assistant manager, who is by the looks of it enjoying their time off work considering the slight smile etched on their tired face.

Heavy eye-bags evident that must be—Isagi hypothesize—the results of being assigned to handle 300 lively, troubling, and passionate strikers. As intense as he is when it comes to soccer, he commends their manager for their unwavering dedication.

"I thought we were picking up Nagi?" Isagi questioned to no one in particular as originally they were supposed to pick up their friend at an arcade.

Otoya gave a quick glance at Isagi and back at their target, "No can do! We must unravel this mystery."

"What mystery?" Isagi dropped a cold sweat.

"The person our manager is waiting for." A hand rested on his shoulder and red hair swayed softly as Chigiri's face came to Isagi's view that drew closer over his shoulder now, seemingly trying to get a better view.

"Wa-wait- you don't mean?" Isagi hitched a quick breath at the revelation.

Now everything clicked. The small and rare smiles he'd see back at Blue Lock as you tapped your phone. Sudden gifts like chocolates, flowers, and other trinkets that had now became questioningly downright romantic he'd see you hold around the base. A freshly prepared warm meal of ochazuke within your hands, a dish not commonly seen inside quarters.

When Isagi and Bachira approached you to ask about it, you simply dismissed it with a proud smirk "It's for a silly guy who overworked to sickness." You walked away after. Isagi dumbfounded at the shocking news of possible favoritism inside this establishment, and who—since the beginning—claimed to treat everyone fairly whether in the good or bad way.

Isagi wondered if Ego is even aware of this and already readied a number of complaints to be—not that he will—filed against his unfair daily natto treatment. Bachira's words came off from deaf ears as he said something of sort praying for—a name, Isagi didn't catch—full recovery.

Coming back from memory lane, his eyes landed back at you. Standing in front of a bus stop, and from his guess before you weren't finding a ride instead your behavior appeared to be waiting for someone.

Your lips pressed. A jittered hand fixing your hair from time to time even though it looked fine the way it was a second ago. A paper bag tightly held between you fingers and palm, your nails digging in to exude the cold from this upcoming winter weather.

Whoever is making you wait, Isagi assured in his mind with no offense, is kind of a douche for leaving you waiting during a time of low temp.

But it might not be a big problem for you when you still have that adoring grin that even seemed to twinkle at the wait partnered with a soft blush. Isagi is not sure if it was from the cold or a person in your mind.

Reo hummed with keen interest with the bush people "It's hasty to assume a lover." He rubbed his chin in contemplation "What if it's a friend?"

Karasu gave an abrupt laugh "Oh please, you are the last person I'd ask input about lovers and friends."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Reo incredulously looked at the crouched boy with full unidentified offense, but a gentle pat on his back from Yukimiya stopped his troubles who only exchanged a smile.

Tokimitsu at his other side added nervously, "Y-you'll get it soon, I'm s-sure."

"What-"

Yukimiya intercepted, "I truly wonder what he's like."

"Someone of superb glam if they had captured the heart of our oh so reserved manager!" Aryu theatrically posed.

"Someone shy and quiet like them?" Isagi contributed.

Reo interjected in front of Isagi, "No, no! Same attributes don't go well. It's gotta be an opposites attract thing." Isagi drooped down at his rejected assumption. Guess his puzzle piece didn't fit right.

"Of course you're into the opposites attract shit." Karasu rolled his eyes in mock, then smirked.

"I don't know what you are trying to insinuate here, but if you keep that up I'll—"

"I heard from others back at Blue Lock that manager likes short guys. Take it with a grain of salt though." Yukimiya added to Reo's claim which the violet head huffed at the support.

Reo glanced complacent at Karasu who replied in an expression of disagreeance.

"Oooh, I do see them chatting with Kurona often." Bachira tapped a finger on his chin, but a smirk crossed his face, "But actually, I know full well of their height preference. Manager is a tall guy enjoyer!" The dual haired boy exclaimed proudly with his finger raised up in confidence.

Isagi jumped at the sudden raise of volume, he bended a bit near Bachira to whisper "Bachira! Tone it down, they'll hear us." He sighed at his usual energetic friend, "What makes you sure of that anyway?"

"Huh? I told you before Isagi! Manager likes—" a smooth hand interrupted Bachira.

"Well, I think he has good personality. I asked manager about it one time and they said, they admire a guy who's patient and understanding through the highs and lows in a relationship." Chigiri gave a lopsided smile with his answer backed up from the original source. Bachira mumbled against his palm to retaliate.

Tokimitsu slumped his shoulders at this, "How did you get that info out of them?"

This instance made everyone turn their heads toward Blue Lock's princess, his hand on his hip standing as proudly as he would feel kicking a skilled goal, "With the power of hair products."

Aryu stretched out his long skinny fingers, "So manager is interested in the opposites attract trope, has a preference for someone taller than them, prefers open-communication, and patience in a lover." He pushed his index finger on his opposite as he finished enumerating all their jumbled guesses into one, "Good taste, I say."

"Oops, you caught me guys. My bad." Otoya huffed out a smug, patting his chest with both hands as if he won something, "Sorry for not letting you guys know sooner. Bae, wanted to keep it on the down low—"

Otoya shrieked when an unexpected fist hit his head "And did I forget they also said they value loyalty!" Chigiri tsked.

As hushed commotion started to incur, Isagi heard a heightened squeak of wheels. He averted his eyes towards the bus stop and his body came to a stop catching their manager's eyes widened in anticipation. Their body straightened and their hold on the bag gripped harder. Their face blooming with longing and oh no this only meant...

"Sshhh! Quiet." Isagi whispered but loud enough for everyone to hear. "He's coming."

Hearing this, the ensemble of strikers scrambled back behind their cover. Swears and complaints muttered at each other, trying to squeeze in as much invisibility they can create. Emphasize on can.

The coverage proved to be pointless anyway, when everyone poked their heads a little to observe the awaited scene. Their hearts beated expectantly. Their breaths moved in and out readying theirselves. Just who is the man that had caught a captivating grasp around the reverent heart of their reliable and caring manager. What allure did he have for you to fall deep on the flowerbed of blossoming passion of pure gentle admiration that is too complex to explain with only those words they call—love.

With beated silence, the man in mystery had came out. They assume to be the man in mystery when he stepped out of the bus and your face turned bright and jumped slightly towards him. You carefully touched his arm and your lips moved to greet.

Isagi discerned the moment in front of him quickly, similar to how he would in a match. Black slacks. Matching black leather jacket which shined from the enveloping glow of the setting sun. The guy's posture showed strong resolve that towered the other passengers exiting the bus. Striped turtle neck of white and cyan that he concluded to be quite tacky if not for the jacket. As his gaze landed to identify his identity, his eyes opened widely like saucers.

Thick bottom lashes.

Teal eyes. The same color that would pierce his soul everytime.

Dark cyan hair.

That indifferent expression.

No fucking way.

How could someone who looks so sweet end up with someone so, so—

BITTER.

Wait no, not bitter. Because the face he had now was not familiar at all.

Itoshi Rin. The Itoshi Rin is—smiling.

To what counts as a smile from him anyway. His lips was still in a thin line with only a few centimeters curved upwards. If you really paid close attention, and Isagi means close attention, it looks kinda like a smile.

In honor of Karasu, he provided the ice breaker "I'm seeing what I'm seeing right?" His confirmation only made Isagi's observation positive.

"You know. I'm actually not really surprised." Yukimiya still in kneeling position, had his arm on his chest and his other perched up by the elbow. His hand against his chin.

"They suit each other." He further said, while Rin slided a quick cheek rub then moved to push back strands of hair at the side of your head.

Otoya whistled, "Didn't know Mr. Top One had game in and out of the field."

Bachira pumped his fist in the air, "Hell yeah! See? I was right!" then inched beside Reo punching his bicep "Reo! Reo! You owe me five mil'!"

"I didn't bet you shit!"

"Aahh, my prochecy prevailed! They are absolutely the glam couple."

"I th-think they look great!"

"Hmm, not bad." Chigiri hummed your name seeming content with the reveal (Isagi corrects reveal to eavesdropping, but Chigiri only swatted him away). "However, seeing that smile unnerves me. I didn't think it'd be possible."

"This makes me feel that if our manager can make Rin smile like that. We can win World Cup." Isagi sighed with a smile of his own and Chigiri laughed as he nudged his shoulder to agree.

"Anything is possible, eh, isn't that right Nagi? Haha, wait—huh? Nagi!?" Chigiri shook his head baffled, a loud scream erupted from him at the sudden appearance causing another man crouching in front of him to trip on his hand as a bright flash dawned.

The bedhead lad grumbled in between words as he munched on some chips "Reo texted y'all were picking me up." He hung his head low as if standing was already taxing work, "It's been an hour. I got worried."

"Um, guys..." Otoya sweatdropped his phone in hand while looking dead straight in front of him.

All the boys changed their view back at the whole reason of why they were hiding behind dirty bushes and supposed discreet vending machines.

Their manager only sighed exasperatingly which funnily enough, sounded like a laugh. They patted Rin's arm to soothe the other. Unfortunately, it wasn't helping.

A cold, deep, dead stare returned at them. The embodiment of if looks can kill.

"Who took that?"

And if actions can kill then the stance Rin was giving obviously indicated that they should probably run now. (Hiding is definitely out of the options, Isagi accepted.)

A rush of wind breezed beside Isagi as Otoya leaped away first, phone clutched like it's pearls. "Ninja escape!"

"Otoya, you traitor!" Karasu screamed in betrayal, but hypocritically followed.

On instinct, Isagi grabbed a hold of Bachira and Chigiri. Determined to make a run for it. The latter two got the message, grinned, and started sprinting ahead.

"Congrats! Rin-chan!" Bachira yelled back with a wave.

"Goodness." Yukimiya could only exhale at the expected as he ran after.

Aryu jumped twirling and finger guns at the two while slowly anchoring his speed, leaving not before saying "Glam, glam!"

Tokimitsu already screeched ten steps in front of him.

As a newcomer, Nagi was about to comment to Rin and their manager when his weight shifted quickly. His steps began to walk. Reo holding him tight.

"Nagi, let's go! We can't lose to them!" Reo started to sprint pointing at their other friends way far ahead.

This unexpected hold as familiar as it can be, he never thought he'd experience it again after everything. "Okay. I'll follow you, Reo." Nagi ran.

⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆

Additional Time!

A ping ringed in your phone. Your eyes opened out of dreamland as the sound erupted you from your thoughts.

You opened the popped out message, a glint forming in your eyes. Clicking the surface you read,

—Are you there?

You body trembled from the current cold of winter breeze as if confirming, nonetheless you closed your body for warmth in order to type.

—Yeah, I'm waiting

A notification sound rose up.

—Sorry, house got busy.

You were about to type out another reply when,

—Sae just left.

Your movements paused for a second. At the mention of his brother, you didn't know what to say that might not trigger him. You instead thought to change the course.

—I understand and stay safe : )

—Ok. You too.

—But get here soon though!

You directed your eyes to the side. Only your peripheral vision needed to see what you thought before was the cold getting to you. You sillily reminded yourself that bushes can't move on its own and vending machines don't grow heads. You grinned and chuckled.

—I think our soccer team is stalking me.

A minute passed after you sent it. You were expecting a reaction, so you shrugged it off thinking he turned off his phone for the meantime. A buzzed vibrated on your fingers.

—I'll be there in a minute.

You heaved out a quiet laugh.

His house is ten minutes from here though.

[lazyjellyfish300]

𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒎𝒔 𝒃𝒚 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆 ˖⚘ ༘ ✿｡𖥧

⚘ nanami kento x fem pregnant!reader

⚘ synopsis: on a sunny easter afternoon unlike any other in your home in the countryside, you steal a moment between you and your husband to tell him the unexpected news that your home will be growing by one more. 🌷words~ 4k

⚘ cw: x fem!reader, x scarred post shibuya Nanami, reader is pregnant, family planning, vasectomy mention, light angst, fluff, you have children together, smut(p in v, fingering, cum eating, breast play, creampie)

The indent of your pillow against your cheek felt even fluffier than usual, tempting you with the irresistible invitation to ignore both your circadian and the external alarms from your phone that went off in succession, before your loving husband eventually shut them off for you.

Elusive sunlight poked through the lacey curtains of the farmhouse in sporadic spurts, rainy dew beginning to recede on the windows from the evening showers that ushered in this lovely Easter morning, the faint smell of brewing coffee, baking quiche, and the simmering roast you had marinating in spices overnight wafted from downstairs.

A rattling at your bedroom door almost shakes it off its hinges before it creaks open, the piggytails of your 18 month old skim over the top of the blankets like a shark fin, waddling until she's face to face with her mommy.

"Hey, noodle..." You whisper, trying to ignore the sting on your cheeks as her chubby hands grab at your face, nails like razor blades as she paws at you to get up.

The exhaustion is stronger than usual, but you relent and you pull her into bed with you, and it's not long before she's using you like a personal jungle gym and lobbing herself dangerously close to the edge.

Familiar footfalls pad down the hallway, along with some absurd giggles and squeals mixed in with the stern tone you recognize of your lover.

Kento kicks open the door lightly, followed by his chaotic entourage of your oldest daughter strapped to his right knee, and your middle daughter hanging on for dear life off his shoulder.

"There you are." He grins as he finds the third imposter eluding him under your arm.

You give him a smile stained with relief and grateful exhaustion and he gives you an apologetic look, knowing it's going to be hard to coax her downstairs now that she's found you. He promised you some time this morning to relax to take a load off your plate, knowing you always tend to bite off more than you can chew when it comes to holiday celebrations.

"Come on, now." Kento gently pulls at your daughter stuck on you like a koala made out of velcro, prying her loose, cooing softly as she begins to cry.

"Hmm, I don't think so, darling." He gently chastises as her chubby hands try to grab the hot mug of coffee he left for you on the nightstand. "We have drinks downstairs that are more suitable for you."

Your older two daughters were utterly obsessed with their daddy, but your youngest had been much clingier to you as of late.

"Momma's resting. Let's give her some space to relax, shall we?"

You look on a bit regretfully as Kento lumbers out of the room with his arms full, but sigh as you settle back under your fortress of quilts knowing that at least the next hour or so belongs to you with no interruption, smiling when you hear the disappointed cries of your babies turn into cheers of joy when Kento mutters something about the Easter Bunny.

---

You eventually make your grand entrance a while later, eyes going wide when you see Kento's mother already seated at the table, impossibly overdressed and regal, bouncing your baby with syrupy cheeks and a fistful of bacon on her knee.

"Oh! Morning, Mama."

"Good morning, dear. Happy Easter." She turns her head as you bump cheeks and leave a kiss in pleasant greeting.

"Happy Easter! I didn't realize you were coming so early! God, I'm so sorry about all this..." You mutter in embarrassment, crossing rapidly to the kitchen where you knew the dishes were overflowing the night before, voice tapering off as it was miraculously empty. You pace quickly to the living room where you remembered the girls' metropolis of Littlest Pet Shops were set up yesterday, astonished to discover it had been tidied up with all toys neatly stacked away.

Of course. You realize, shaking your head as the puzzle pieces assembled and you turned your head towards the windows where you saw Kento tending to the animals in the stables. Always one step ahead of you, reading your mind and making your life easier before your feet could even hit the floor in the mornings, unable to help the surge of desire that trickles afterwards as he turns and smiles humbly in your direction, sending him a smoldering look through the glass that says you have every intention of thanking him properly as soon as the entire house goes to bed.

Your mother-in-law just smiles as she watches her littlest grandbaby stuff herself with one more handful of bacon before she's had enough and turns to her with proud chipmunk cheeks. Momma Nanami already knew that Kento would have the place handled, she raised him to do so after all, though she wouldn't have given it a single second thought if he hadn't and the house was still in disarray when she arrived.

"I've got her." She tells you warmly as you approach to take your daughter back. You smile before you round the corner to go back upstairs, grateful knowing that deep down she would've begged you to let her take her grandbaby back with her to Tokyo for the rest of the month.

----

The farmhouse blossoms to life on a few occasions during the calendar year, Easter being one of them.

The solitude of the rainy pocket you lived in transforms into a bustling hub where familiar, beloved faces cross the threshold of the propped open front door to hallways of raucous laughter, shared memories in the heart of new ones being created with comforting smells of home-cooked food with love layered in every bite.

You watch from the porch as your girls dart all over the yard and garden, nodding and clapping every time they add another colorful egg to their overflowing baskets. You try to ignore the bittersweet tightening of knots in your chest. It felt like you were being gifted back moments of your babies from the thief of time while it simultaneously rolled them out of the door every time you noticed your youngest became more sure on her feet as she chased her older sisters, reminding you that these tender years were just as fleeting as they were precious.

Indoors, the battle on the Super Nintendo is well underway with Kento about to win 3 for 3 against Yuji and Megumi, while Gojo supervises as the unofficial referee.

"Think fast." Kento relinquishes his remote to Satoru who scoots to the edge of his seat, letting out a yell of victory to the groans of utter disappointment from his opponents as he manages to finish them off at the last second.

"Hey, you." You greet him as Kento's hand snakes around the curve of the familiar residence of your hip to pull you close against him.

"Apologies." He mutters in a volume only the two of you can hear in your little separate bubble on the back porch as you watch your daughters run all over the yard. "I hope I didn't miss much."

"No, right on time. They just started." You hum as your thumb traces idley over a small ridge of the scarring on his left hand that rests on your stomach, polished white gold haphazardly glinting in the light that manages to seep through the shadows from the shade of your peach trees. "They're moving quickly, though. I wonder if I should've gotten more while I was in town yesterday."

"Absolutely not." Kento snorts out a little breath from his nostrils as he remembers the outrageous number of goodies his mother showed him in her suitcase shortly after she arrived that morning. "They have more than plenty of treats and gifts to go around this year. Trust me, darling."

"I trust you." You hum, turning so your face is buried in his chest, grounding yourself in the steady cadence of his heartbeat for just a moment in between the chaos.

"Are you alright?" He asks, unable to keep his heart from melting every time you sought out his affection, how the level of tenderness in your request for closeness to him never wavered from the dawn of your relationship that blossomed and sprouted on this very same porch.

The truth was, there was something you were harboring underneath the surface from yesterday(truly, a record of a miracle considering this is the longest it could ever stay that way).

Two faded pink lines you buried at the bottom of the trash can that had shown up despite all odds stacked against them with Kento's vasectomy and the mutual agreement you came to months earlier that your little family was complete.

But of course, fate, that pesky force it was, both responsible for the miracle of your love falling into place, and now baby number four, had other plans. Only now, you worried that the unplanned element of it all would put a slight damper on the news.

"Mhmm, just tired." You mutter as you go a little limp in his embrace while he's unable to help the inadvertent curve of his smile. As he strokes your hair, he can't help but take note that this bout of exhaustion that's been seizing you as of late has been sticking around for a bit longer than usual.

But for now, he holds you close to his heart, swaying you to invisible melody with the pattern of the subtle afternoon breeze as he watches his trio of treasures sprint with carefree glee around your farmland property, not allowing his worry to steal his focus from the priceless memory of another Easter egg hunt unfolding right in front of him.

----

The girls wander back to the porch with their baskets of loot, out of breath.

"Nice job, little ladies." Yaga gives them high fives as they scurry into the living room, eager to crack open their goodies. Your baby, however, is still a little too shy for a high five, tugging at your dress before you finally scoop her up.

"Um, actually, I think there is one more." You direct your statement mostly to your husband, who turns to you, curiosity piqued, however Mama Nanami catches the ending.

She doesn't know, but she understands the look you give her son. It's one she used to give his father, a knowing that comes from loving the same person over many years, a look that begs for just a little reprieve from the endearing bustle of family life where you two could just exist for a moment as husband and wife.

As if on cue, she moves to take your little one out of your arms after a little coaxing,

"Let's go inside and show Nana what you've found."

"Thank you..." You nod appreciatively as Kento's fingers fill the spaces between yours.

"We won't be long." He reassures them as you both step away.

----

You linger for a moment next to your favorite tree on the property you love to take afternoon naps under, hand in hand, except for the moments when your grip loosens slightly so he can allow his thumb to smooth over the heart of your palm to let you know he's still following close behind, not minding the moisture from the yellow blades of grass that brushed both your ankles.

Kento smiles as you tug him into the barn, a ritual you've partaken in many times, though the last time you did was far longer ago than he would have liked.

"Up here." You chuckle as you begin to climb the ladder after witnessing the confusion plastered on his face.

"You're impossible." But his statement carries all of the affection he can muster and bury underneath the mild inconvenience of the moment, even so as all the love he has for you is completely unrestrained by his limited gaze in the eyepatch on the left side of his face when your back is turned to him.

Once you're both seated in the privacy of the loft, you reveal the reason you had stolen his presence, a small blue egg in the palm of your hand.

He takes it from you as you sit cross legged from each other, shaking it next to his ear with an unserious wiggle of his brow. "Well, it's definitely not cash."

"Oh my God, just open it, silly!"

"I'll take as long as I well please, darling. Since I have been nothing but patient with all this suspense you've built up, you lovable tease."He holds the egg in his fingertips, turning it over for one moment longer before he cracks it open without another thought.

He freezes as a small pacifier tumbles out. His mind only takes a moment to compute the symbolic message behind the small object, a million questions fanning across his mind that get simultaneously answered all at once as his thoughts catch up to him.

"Happy Easter." You say quietly, breath still unreleased from your lungs as you can't exactly discern the stream of thoughts you know are racing inside him at this very moment.

"Really?" He asks, his gaze searching and latching onto the slightly fearful confirmation in your eyes as soon as you nod your head.

"Yes... I've known since yesterday."

"Come here." He folds the pacifier in between both your hands and he uses it to slowly pull you into his lap, legs straddling either side of him, hand at the back of your neck to hold you even closer against him as though the current press of your bodies together simply wasn't enough to quell his unrelenting ache.

"You're not upset?"

"No, I'm not upset." He answers softly.

"I feel bad though, Ken. The surgery...we thought we were done..."

"I knew there was still a small risk, even with the surgery." His hand halts in its reassuring path down your waist as he pulls back for a moment to look into your eyes.

"What would you like to do, sweetheart?"

"I...can't bring myself to consider any alternatives." You murmur, shaking your head as he studies you patiently with that iris of caramel centering you in the present of his love that never demanded and only flowed without apology, like the river that flooded and stranded him with you in the first place.

"Then, we're parents-to-be with a fourth. It's as simple as that."

"But-"

"No buts, darling." The tip of his nose affectionately smooshes against yours. "The choice is yours, and yours alone. I just want to support you and the babies in any way I can."

His thumbs trace over the backs of your hands in indiscriminate shapes that all speak the same language of adoration. "I love every child the moment you tell me about them. So even though this news is unexpected, it's never unwelcomed. As long as you're safe, and happy, that's all I could ask for."

You know he's not lying, either as you reflect on every single one of your pregnancies. The aches, pains, and woes somehow became blurred as an afterthought when you recalled each one. It might have been the very definition of insanity.

But love, particularly the unbelievable way you and Kento came to meet, rarely ever made sense. And the way he revered you, loved you, never made you hold anything he thought you weren't supposed to carry, and cleansed your world of unnecessary stresses through the season of bearing each of his babies made it so easy to say yes to just one more.

He kisses you and the emotions of the moment born out of this life-changing revelation hangs in in the air when your lips briefly let go with reluctance, a quiet ember begging to be something just a little bit more, bargaining back a little more time from its endless game of cat and mouse that loved to elude you, shamelessly indulgent despite knowing you'd have more of it tonight when the world went to sleep. Your foreheads press together, and it's simply you and him breathing together in this pocket of time where you can just be as a couple.

He takes your chin in his fingers, kissing you again, slowly with intention, warm tongue skimming along your bottom lip until you inevitably oblige and let him in, a shivery groan escaping that shoots straight through him and cracks his restraint that all but turned to glass every time he was alone with you, despite the countless times he's heard it.

He knows it, when your sounds begin to leave you in a broken pattern that thrum against his lips pressed to your throat like a prayer, a plea. His hands depart from cradling your face to rub your breasts slowly through your dress he'd been yearning to feel you under ever since he saw you in it through windows in the bright light of your kitchen.

"Fuck, Ken..."

Your voice makes him eager to scratch that itch, suckling your left breast into his mouth without wasting another moment while he rolls your clothed clit softly on the meat of his thigh.

"They're waiting for us." You purr feebly with your head thrown back, knowing you have no intention of withstanding the urge to let him fuck you in the mellow quiet of this barn, looking down occasionally to take in the way he hollows his cheeks as he sucks on your tits with a fervor you know will translate into little lovemarks that only you and him will be able to see that will hopefully last for weeks, supple flickers of his smooth tongue strategically lapping at the already hardened nipples until you feel like a dam about to burst as the slick begins to drip more steadily between your thighs.

"They can wait five more..." He murmurs as he finishes paying attention to the right before he lays you on your back on the bed of straw, breath shuddering as the thin cotton of your dress does little to shroud the budding bumps along the raised nipples of your tender breasts so enticingly, by far his favorite constellation with the North Star of the two layered diamonds of your necklace as the centerpiece, swaying in synchronized rhythm as your body inadvertently thrusts against his hardening cock behind his trousers.

"We don't need long."

Your thigh curls along the slope of his back like the vines that decorate the cobblestones of the exterior of your home, as his left palm moves inside your panties, a bit of a habit he picked up on purpose just to indulge that possessive need of his to see and feel you cum and clench around his wedding ring. He groans as he takes his time to coax and explore, warm honey flowing freely as he dips between your folds to stretch you around his long fingers.

"God, so tight..." He can't resist unbuttoning his pants to stroke his heavy cock at the same time, right as his middle and index finger find and press, wetly squelching against the silky spot inside your sweet pussy that he had scored to memory long ago like a scripture.

"Ohhh, Kento..."

You pulse maddeningly around his fingers and he pumps himself even faster, precum slowly dribbling down his fingers as he recollects how you do the same thing on his cock when he's deep inside you.

"They'll hear us if you keep moaning like that..." He wantonly utters with the last semblance of self-restraint he can muster as his face falls into the sanctuary of your neck as he can't delay his own climax much longer. "If Shoko goes outside to smoke-"

"Just fuck me, Kento..."

He groans as he sits up on his forearm, his thumb over your pulse as he draws his hips back, leaning in, ghosting over your mouth with the shadow of a kiss as he softly pants, before he seals his lips over yours. He guides the scarred, bulging tip inside you, receding his hips backwards in a slow draw without leaving you entirely, before giving one long, steady push until he's fully inside.

He moans audibly in unison alongside you as the stretch dissolves like pleasure on a cloud, carrying you away as the rhythmic waves of aftershocks dance up your spine in blind succession with every deep thrust. You're not spared from feeling every single inch, every subtle curve of him that fit into you like no other as if by design that was divine in nature.

"So damn warm, so beautiful like this..." He sighs as he rolls his hips in just the way he loves, tips of his knuckles blossoming into white as he grips the meat of your thighs like his center of gravity to pull him in with more passion, more depth to precision in the soft, warm tides of that velvety oasis, over and over again.

"Cum with me..." You murmur and you feel the full consequence your words have on him when his thrusts abruptly get even harder in response.

"Kiss me if it's too much..." He whispers, although as more of a command as he yanks you against his lips regardless. He fucks you roughly, throughly with a passion that travels from his kiss all the way down to where you connect and undulate together as one.

It rivals the thunder in the pewter clouds that plague the skies above your farmhouse. It's lovemaking with an intensity that conveyed all the frustration he felt at the time that dragged much longer than he wanted it to between the last time he could enjoy you like this, coupled with the wildfire of elation and desire he felt setting the forest of his heart ablaze knowing you were going to bear another one of his children.

"I love you."

It comes crashing down with his climax that reduces his composure to shaky trembles like a battered leaf in the wind with his face in your neck, tranquilized by the scent of your hair splayed across his sweaty forehead, creamy cum milking out of his cock and soaking your spasming walls that pulse in balanced tempo around his length, the lingering remnant of his loving declaration hanging around you like a heavenly haze of smoke with the after effects of an aphrodisiac as fuel for your peak that was all but eminent.

His thumb continues circling around your clit, pumping into you a few more times with his cock before he slowly pulls out, dipping his head down with no hesitation to finish the job. Warm delicate tongue lapping at the mixture of your love that almost makes him harden all over again, smearing the sea of dribbling slick all over your clit before he gives you his fingers one more time to relieve that loss inside you were feeling.

Your cum soaks his wedding band as intended and you share a devilish smile as you watch him clean his fingers with his tongue.

"Open your mouth..." He leaves the elixir of both your essences on your tongue mingled in the steamy punctuation of an all-consuming kiss he never lets you go without.

"I love you more." You drunkenly murmur, intoxicated quite a ways up from the aftershocks of this session whose postlude tonight you were now awaiting with much more impatience.

And he feels precisely the same as you both clean up and he notices the tremor in your step that he was responsible for causing, a latent fire growing in his belly as he knows it's all but certain he'll be dripping out of you until the long anticipated moment behind your closed bedroom door when he finally has you all to himself.

"Not even close."

He tells you without speaking, rather in the squeeze of his hand and the glimmer in your eyes that only you two know the true meaning, as you saunter back to your home that awaited with even more love inside.

---

dividers by @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more

[mr-bas00nist]

I saw you’re requesting Jjk so maybe you and Nanami agree he can quit working since it’s tiring him out so much if he’s your cute househusband (the art you reblogged inspired this) and he treats you right when you come home because it’s what master deserves (is that too much? Feel free to ignore if it is)

Kick Off Your Shoes

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝~Sub!Afab!Nanami Kento x Dom!Male!Reader

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝~Not to much at all! Ngl breeding kink kind of jumped out of me at the domesticness of this so I made him afab 😭 (I need to impregnate him)

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝~Cw: Cunnlingus, squirting, creampie, slight breeding kink (more of just filling him up but baby mention), slight baby talk at the end and soft sex lol

Kento was a man who couldn’t stand working. Whether it be long hours and overnights spent at the office as a salaryman, or fighting horrific curses and protecting people as a sorcerer. He grew up knowing and understanding the purpose of hard work. But god, he fucking HATED it.

Though, after he met you and married you, it made it more bearable. He had a reason to come home, to be happy, to work. He wasn’t just running on autopilot waiting for something or someone to take him out anymore. He had a new purpose, you.

After Shibuya Kento had gotten enough money to run away with you to his dream, Malaysia. The two of you bought that dream house you always wanted right by the water. Seeing it was amazing, experiencing it was like paradise. Paradise with you.

Since you two made enough money to leave thanks to Kento, you decided to take the brunt and work on his behalf. He’d done so much, ‘it’s my turn’, you thought to yourself. So with that revelation Kento decided that he would be the one to take care of the house. You always joked with him about being your househusband and now he finally was.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

You soon returned home as you parked your car in the garage. You took a deep breath inhaling the ocean air before you walked up the steps. You grabbed your keys opening the door and kicking off your shoes. Your nose was directed to the sound of humming. You smiled to yourself feeling the warmth of the house, and the smell of something yummy pulling you to the kitchen.

“Hey honey.” You smiled softly as you saw Kento with his apron on. He currently had flour dusted over his forearms, hands and cheeks. You hummed as he glanced up to you with a soft smile. “Hey handsome.” You walked over as you kissed him on the lips.

“Food smells delicious.” You smirk to yourself as he helped you take your suit coat off after washing his hands. He saw how tense you were as he trailed a hand down your back. He sighed as he gently put his hands on your broad shoulders. You spoke softly, “I’m okay for now, let’s eat.”

He then pulled his hands away before nodding. “Yeah, let’s eat.” He smiled softly at you as he kissed you on the cheek. He sat you down as he got you a plate of pasta and the homemade bread he made. He then poured you a glass of red wine as he gave a wink.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

As you were getting ready for bed you felt Kento’s hands run from your waist to your chest, his head going to the crook of your neck. He inhaled your scent as he then brought his hands to the waist of your belt giving a gentle tug. You gripped his wrist gently as you pushed him back on the bed. He gave you a look of protest but you shot him your own which shut him up.

“You know this calms me.” You spoke softly as you pulled his pants off leaving him in his navy blue boxers. You smiled as you ran your finger along his clothed pussy feeling the heat emanating from it. “Please…” he spoke softly.

Who were you to deny your sweet man? You pulled his briefs off with a slick move as you observed his soaked center. You trailed your thumb between his lips as you softly rubbed his clit in tight circles. You watched as he clenched around nothing, slick dripping like a waterfall.

You saw how much he wanted to beg but he stayed quiet, this was your time to wind down. You continued inspecting his pussy as you gently pushed a finger to his hilt. He moaned softly as he moved his hand to your shoulder. You began slowly pumping a finger in and out as you looked up to see his reactions.

He had his head relaxed against the pillow as he moaned softly. Groans and whimpers slipping past his slick lips. Another finger was pushed into him as you began curling your fingers inside. You listened in awe to the squelch and wetness of his dripping pussy around your fingers.

You smiled softly as you leaned down, mouth enveloping his swollen clit as you circled your lips around the bud. His toes curled as he let out a loud groan. He propped himself up on his elbows as he looked down at you. Heavy eyes peering up at him as you lost yourself in the taste of his musk.

Kento began groaning and grunting increasingly louder as you felt his walls begin to tighten. You pulled your fingers out as you roughly rubbed his clit with two precise fingers back and forth. His back arched as he let out a cry, liquid spurting out in small streams onto you and the sheets.

“There he is… shhhh, atta boy…” you smiled as you popped your fingers into your mouth sucking on them. He stared at you dazedly before he registered you sliding your belt off. “I’d eat you out longer but…. I’m aching for you honey… think you can take some more?” You asked softly.

He nodded quickly as you chuckled. “I’m going to pound you nice and deep… cum in you nice and deep.. I know that pussy wants it… doesn’t it?” You asked softly knowing he wasn’t really going to give you an answer. Though the flush on his face was enough to tell you.

You slid your pulsing flesh back and forth on his sloppy cunt before you gripped yourself and slowly pushed in. You slid into the hilt as you pulled his legs together and put them along your body. You wrapped your arms around them as you began thrusting.

He gripped the back of his pillow as his jaw dropped open with a soft moan. As much as you wanted to fuck him slow and soft… the stress from work and his warm vice around you was driving you up a wall. You began thrusting back and forth focusing on each expression his handsome face gave.

Slicked back blond strands falling in his face, hazel eyes squeezed shut, face scrunched up and eyebrows furrowed. He looked like he was trying to solve a complex arithmetic problem. You smiled softly at him as you thrusted back, forth, back, forth. His pussy sloshing around you as he sucked your dick back in as soon as you pulled back.

“Sucking me in soooo tight…. You want me to cum in you? Fill that pussy and give you my baby?” You asked curiously with a coo as you trailed a reassuring hand down to his hip as you gave a squeeze. “Y-yeah- ah~ so good… m’ so full!” He exclaimed as his hazel eyes peered open.

You adjusted your position so that his legs were over both of your shoulders. You leaned over him as you put your elbows on his side as you kissed him passionately. You watched as he brought his hand down to his clit, mewling into your mouth as he began vigorously rubbing his clit.

You began feeling that telltale sign of orgasm impending as you cooed. “You want to cum with me? Want to cream on my dick honey?” You asked softly. Tone not at all fitting the filthy words coming out your mouth. He nodded rapidly as he threw his head back.

He wrapped his arms around your neck as you brought your own hand back down to his clit. You picked up your pace on everything as he clamped down on you. You let out a groan into his neck as you both were set over the edge by one another. You felt your orgasm deep in your stomach as you came inside him, heavy balls emptying inside while he squirted all over your stomach and the bed.

You hummed as you stayed in him. “Think it’s gonna take?” You asked him softly to which he smiled holding your hand with his ringed one. “Hopefully… I think a little one would be a nice addition to the family…” he looked down to where you guys met. “They’ll be perfect huh?”

He nodded with a grin. “Just like you..”

A/n: Hopefully you guys fw afab Nanami. Ngl, love writing with pussy involved lmao. Certified munch 😚🤳🏽. Anyways, see you guys in the next!

[seeingivy]

pretty girl

ryomen sukuna x f!reader

an: kind of suggestive? reader is super insecure + sukuna might be ooc but ??? yk. it is what it is. come get yall juice.

**part of my best friends (older brother) fic

--

when sukuna’s phone rings - for the third time, signaling that he actually has to pick up now - he definitively decides that he is going to move far, far away. maybe if he lived in shibuya, or even as far as kyoto, his stupid little brother wouldn’t call him every time he got too drunk to drive him and his idiotic friends home. 

and when sukuna walks straight into the bar - blaring music, haphazard puddles of alcohol all over the floor, and the most pungent, putrid sweat smell hanging in the air - he’s almost positive that he’s going to start looking for a new apartment tomorrow. 

it takes him approximately thirty-five seconds to find yuuji. though he supposed he should have noticed faster that the pink haired idiot standing on top of the bar, with a black sea urchin shaking at his legs was exactly what he was looking for. 

sukuna makes his way over, shoving megumi hard in the shoulder as he looks over, eyes glazed and cheeks pink. after almost seven times of doing this, sukuna knows exactly how this is going to go. that despite the tattoos, the entirely different facial structure, and physique, megumi is going to confuse sukuna for yuuji. 

“yuu’? how’d you get over there so fast?” megumi murmurs, reaching to cup the side of his face. 

right again. sukuna smacks his hand out of his peripheral as he looks up at yuuji, who hasn’t even noticed that he’s arrived yet. 

“move over.” he responds, irritated. 

the second megumi lets go, sukuna all but shuffles yuuji off of his balance, making it a point to somewhat break his fall off of the countertop. only somewhat, because naturally he wouldn’t injure his little brother. but that doesn’t mean he’s not deserving of sometime of retribution for all the times he’s had to do this.

yuuji’s groaning in his arms as he pulls him up, as he halfheartedly makes grabby hands for fushiguro who was three feet away. 

“‘gumi, cm’here.” 

“we’re leaving. you can sit next to your gumi in the car.” sukuna states sternly, curling his nose at the godawful nickname, as he drags the two of them straight out into the cold air. 

he’s all but opening the doors for the two of them, getting more irritated as the two of them excitedly look up at the sky, pointing at all the little stars together before he all but shoves them again. 

“look yuuji. it’s us.” 

“where?” 

“the two stars next to each other.” 

sukuna watches yuuji’s eyes go wide, cheeks bright pink, as he wraps his arms around megumi. and fights the urge to gag. 

it’s only then - when he’s wrestled seatbelts onto the two of them and stopped megumi from being the affectionate drunk that he is - that they make it a point to share an important piece of information. 

“kugisaki and y/n are still in there! we can’t leave.” yuuji whines, leaning his head against megumi’s as his eyes quickly start drooping, almost fluttering shut before he can ask where the two of you could possibly be. 

sukuna shuffles back through the group of bodies, this time looking for the other pair of the set. it takes more effort - because he’s sure that kugisaki is going to be sucking face with someone in the back corner and he’s going to have to put an end to it. and you. you were always particularly hard to find. 

he spots the red hair three feet away and takes a deep breath. she’s almost entirely sitting on the girls lap - green hair, shitty glasses - as he makes it a point to tap on her shoulder. naturally, she doesn’t stop and he gets more disgusted as it goes on. he never thought she’d be so…handsy. or that he’d have to see it. 

he does the next best thing. reaches to her side and tickles her, just enough to stop her and start the godawful, obscene screaming that worsens tenfold with every consecutive pint of alcohol she drinks. and of course, she’s just as predictable as the last. 

“yuuji?! where the fuck do you get off doing that?” 

he reaches for her wrist, shooting a polite smile. 

“maki. always a pleasure. kugisaki, we’re leaving.” 

“i’m not leaving.” 

maki gives him a halfhearted shrug as he all but throws her over her shoulder, tuning out the insults that are streaming out of her mouth as he all but carries her through the group of bodies. if you weren’t regulars here, sukuna was positive that he’d get arrested for that profanities coming out of her mouth - that, and the fact that it looked like he was abducting her. but no one turns a blind eye, almost irritated that she’s at it again. 

that makes two of them. 

when nobara’s tucked into the back, he makes it a point to throw a water bottle at each of them - specifically square in the face for yuuji and megumi who are cuddling in his backseat - as he glares at all of them. 

“okay, kugisaki. where’s y/n?” sukuna asks. 

she’s leaning her head back against the headrest, eyes fluttering shut, as she murmurs something unintelligible. 

“she….ugly.” kugisaki murmurs. 

“she’s ugly?” sukuna deadpans. 

well, she’s certainly not ugly. 

“ugly…bathroom.” she murmurs again, taking it as his best option. 

sukuna marches back into the bar, for the third time, and beelines straight into the bathroom in the back. and there you are, crumpled up on the floor with your knees hiked to your chest, with big tears in your eyes and two girls sitting right across from you. 

sukuna finds the sight rather…unusual. he knew that girls were quite different than guys, having heard you go on your spiels about womanhood and female friendship too damn often to know that it was a whole thing that was beyond him. but really, he finds it sincerely odd that the two girls sitting across from you are comforting you in your puddle of tears. 

it’s not that sukuna’s stereotyping. or being judgemental. or he is a little, but he doesn’t frankly care. because labels, or groups or whatever existed for a reason. people who were similar flocked to one another. it’s how people were comfortable. how they functioned. 

which is why sukuna’s unsure why these two girls - who are actually dressed up to be at the club - are sitting on the tiles with you, when you’re wearing one of those pink ribbons in your hair, that of course, matches the one on your bag. 

but granted, this is you he’s talking about. he’s spent enough time trying to figure you out, before he naturally gave up. he always found that you transcended normal groups that he assigned. 

you look up at him through your tearfilled eyes, a half smile on your face. 

“sukuna, you-you’re here.” 

sukuna ignores the fact that he’s pleased, very pleased, that you didn’t just confuse him with yuuji, as he holds his hand out to you and grabs your purse with the other one. and when you place your hand in his, you can feel the heat rushing up your body, more so when he leans down, lips few feet apart as he murmurs to you. 

“we’re leaving. now.” sukuna states, glaring at you. 

you feel the heat rush to your cheeks, acutely aware of every detail on his face. that his hair is slightly messy - because he must have woken up to come get you - and that his eyes are almost tired. you fight the urge to smile...at how sweet It all is.

“okay. thanks for coming to get us.” you respond, giving him a smile. 

the two girls sprawled on the floor stand up, yanking their dresses down the slightest amounts as they flash you warm, kind-hearted smiles.

sukuna, really, truly does not understand it. at the way that you’re so open with them, despite the fact that they must be strangers. 

“you, give him hell. and you, i’m really happy for you. i’m sure your wedding will be beautiful.” you state, pointing at the two girls who had been accompanying you on the bathroom floor for the past hour. 

“and you. stop letting people call you ugly and taking it to heart. the bows are cute. your fashion is amazing. and men don’t deserve shit.” the first girl slurs.

you give her a smile, as sukuna all but tugs you out of the bathroom by the wrist, arm secured around your shoulder as he leads you through the crowd. sukuna drops his arm around you as the crowd gets thicker, hands straight on your waist as he steadies you in front of him. and when he leans down to whisper in your ear, it sends a shiver down your entire spine. 

“do i even want to ask?” he sneers. 

“it’s her bachelorette party! and that’s her best friend, though she seems kind of…off her rocker. but in a good way. power to her for being bold.” you respond. 

sukuna rolls his eyes as he pushes you out into the cold air last, reaching for the front seat door and opening it for you. except when he looks back, you’re staring up into the sky just as yuuji and megumi were, the softest of smiles on your face.

sukuna makes a mental note of the dark, black tear streaks on your cheeks and your sniflfy nose as he clears his throat to get your attention.��

“oh. sorry, i’m here. i’m here.” you respond, quickly shuffling into the car as you wipe your face. 

sukuna shuts the door behind you, pausing to look up at the sky too. and silently wonders what exactly it was that you thought when you looked up at it. 

--

sukuna makes it a point to take you out of the car last. because naturally, he’d save the easiest job for the end. by the time he had turned onto his street, you were snug asleep against the window of his car, creating a small indent into your forehead from the plastic of the door as he parked on the street. and he’d give you the few seconds of peace as he wrangles the rest of them out. 

megumi and yuuji were easy to wrangle. because if sukuna too one out, the other one would quickly follow - and mope a great deal. megumi was on the side closer to the door, meaning he had to brace himself for the confusion once again, as he shrugged him awake. 

“‘yuu. are you going to carry me to bed?” he murmurs. 

“absolutely fucking not.” sukuna responds, yanking him out as yuuji follows up the stairs. he sets the two of them on the couch, a surefire way to ensure that they don’t do something heinous to his sheets during the night - or the morning after - as he braces himself for kugisaki next. 

when he slings her arm around his shoulder, the obscenities start. 

“maybe if you had a job or something, maybe we wouldn’t bother you so much. It-” 

“i have a job, kugisaki. a job that just payed for your drinks, mind you.” 

it seems that in his rusk of getting ready, yuuji had accidentally swiped his wallet on the way out. and of course, it was his turn to pay for the drinks. 

“you need to get a hobby. have you thought of sewing?” she asks. 

“that would be useful. then i’d have hundreds of needles to stick in your eyes.” 

“when was the last time you felt the touch of a woman, sukuna?” 

“when was the last time you went on a date? are the middle school makeout sessions hitting the mark for you, kugisaki?” 

“shut the fuck up.” she sneers, reaching to smack him as he shoves her straight on to the guest bed and quickly shuts the door behind him. 

he’s satisfied when he hears no inclination of her following, which always seems to be a gamble depending on how much she’s downed that night. or how short he cut off whatever it was she was doing with maki. 

when sukuna makes it back to the car, he half debates just leaving you in there. because you look so comfortable, with his stray jacket strewn over your shoulders, and your breath that’s fogging up the glass of the mirror. but the fact that your neck is at an awkward angle and the cold air solidify his decision. 

he open the door and you halfhazardly jolt awake, blinking your eyes as sukuna comes into your line of vision. you shoot him a smile as he holds his hand out to you, locking them together as he drags you up to the apartment, straight into his bedroom. 

“can i use the bathroom?” you ask. 

“you know where it is.” he responds, noting and particularly hating the biting tone in his voice. 

“thank you!” you respond, shuffling into the room and shutting the door. 

albeit weirdly, sukuna presses his ear to the door to confirm his suspicions. and the soft clinking of bottles, of the water running on and off, tells him enough. 

that you’re doing your longwinded skin care routine in his bathroom. that you shoved all of your serums and moisturizers in your purse because you couldn’t skip out on it for even one day. 

he’d make it a point. to slam the door open and make fun of you for it. but he bites down any retort he has when he hears soft sniffling and pushes the door open for an entirely different reason. 

“what the hell is your problem?” he asks. 

“huh?” 

“you and your friends get obscenely drunk. then, you call me in the middle of the night and wake me up. and right when i’m about to go to bed, you’re crying in my bathroom. so what the hell is it? just tell me.” 

you sniffle. 

“do you really want to know?” you whisper. 

“you’re wasting more of time with your shitty attitude. i’m not going to stand here and coax it out of you, so just tell me straight up or stop crying.” 

you sigh. 

“if you put lipstick on a pig, it’s still a pig.” 

sukuna wants to smack you. of course you feel the need to talk in tongues. 

“in english this time?” he asks. 

“you can try to look nice as much as you want. but even all that…makeup…fancy skincare. it can’t change the fact that i just look like this. that if you put lipstick on a pig, it’s still a pig.” you state. 

“you think you’re a pig?” sukuna asks. 

you sigh. 

“maybe.” you murmur. 

sukuna tosses you the extra set of clothes he dragged out, tossing them straight at you as you send him a grateful smile. 

“thanks, sukuna.” you murmur. 

“for what?” 

he could barely even muster a response, a coherent one that you deserved, in response to what you shared with him. 

“dunno. i tell other people and they just kind of go…but you’re so pretty!! and…it falls flat. it’s nice to not be coddled. just said things as they are.” 

sukuna can feel a burning feeling in his chest that increases tenfold when you press a kiss into the softness of his cheek. and he stands there dumbfounded, watching you smile and make a move to walk away. he instinctively reaches for your bicep and pulls back, a sweet smell emanating from whatever you’ve just smeared on your face, as he looks down at your lips. 

there’s some type of glitter on them. whatever you’ve just put on makes them look bigger, fuller. he wonders if some trace of it is left on his cheek. 

“did you need something?” you ask. 

“sleep in my bed.” 

“huh?” 

“i’ll take the couch. get in the bed.” he utters. 

the following morning, sukuna wakes up to three plates of breakfast with an annoying sticky note pressed on top. 

thanks for coming to get us sukuna!!! :DD 

it’s the first time the thought crosses his mind. that his preconceived notion might be incorrect. 

that it’s not that you’re too good for him. it’s that everyone else isn’t good enough for you. 

--

the next time you see sukuna is when you’re teetering past tipsy to fully drunk in your childhood bedroom, on christmas eve. well, he’s not exactly inside the room, more knocking on the door frame.

you gesture for him to come in, setting the wine bottle down, as he takes the seat next to you. 

“where’s yuuji?” you ask.

“still at megumi’s.” 

sukuna loosens the tie around his neck and unbuttons the top three buttons of his collared shirt, as he slides closer to you. you've never been one to shy from his touch, settling into his embrace, as he racks his mind, desperately, on how to broach the topic, that’s been on his mind for weeks. 

sukuna slides his arm around your shoulder to your nightstand, to a little bundle of dried flowers. he opts to leave his hand pulled around you, as he pulls it closer to the two of your faces, resting his temple against yours.

“what’s this?” 

“it’s my corsage from prom. like sixty years ago.” 

“who did you go with?” sukuna asks. 

“no one. i never got asked. i just bought one because…you know how all the girls line up in a row and stick their hands out to show their corsage off? i didn’t want to be left out of that picture.” you state. 

“so you ordered it yourself?” 

“mhm. pink flowers, white bow. it matched my dress.” you hum. 

“always the bows huh?” 

sukuna sets the corsage down in your lap, as he leans closer into your space and digs into his pocket. you can smell his cologne, strong and musky in your space, as it mixes with your own flowery perfume and gives your head a slight rush. 

he pulls out his keys and sets them flat in the palm of your hand, as you inspect each little accessory on his ring. there’s two keys - one for his apartment and one for his house - and two keychains. one of him as a lego, which you know yuuji bought him for his birthday, and another one from alaska, that you and yuuji had bought him on your school trip in eighth grade. 

but the third is a ribbon, secured right on the ring of his keychain. you inspect it between your fingers, and he supplies the answer before you can ask. 

“you left it at my house.” he states. 

“so…so you put it on your keys?” 

“wanted to make sure it was on me. in case i saw you.” 

you make a move to pull it off the ring, but he closes his hand over yours. 

“it’s mine now.” he states. 

“then why did you show it to me?” you whispers. 

sukuna’s not sure what it is that drives him to do it, merely the fact that he has no patience and surely no self control, but he hooks his hand straight under your thigh, securing you straight on his lap. you can feel your breath hitch in your throat as he leans his forehead straight against yours, his hands on your thighs burning your skin. 

“what are you doing? yu-yuuji will eventually get here you know.” you whisper. 

“do you like him?” sukuna asks. 

“what? no-no, he’s with megumi. and he’s gay.” you whisper. 

“so why are you thinking about him when you’re here with me?” 

“i-i’m not. you just-”

sukuna swallows hard, taking a deep inhale of your smell, before he slithers one of his hands around your neck and pulls you closer. he can feel you fidget in his lap, nearly knocking over half the things behind you as you twitch in his lap and he murmurs into your skin. 

“relax.” 

you take a deep breath, grounding yourself by digging your hands into the muscle of his arms.

“okay. you-”

“the guy at the bar. what did he say to you?” he whispers. 

“which guy?” 

“when i picked you up last. when you slept in my bed.” 

you feel your cheeks burn in embarrassment. 

“nothing. he-” 

sukuna’s squeezing into the plush of your thighs, his hands firm and warm as you fight the urge to yelp. 

“tell me what he said.” 

“nothing, sukuna. i didn’t want to kiss him yet. and he leaned in. got-got offended. just said some things before he walked away.” you mumble. 

“things like?” 

“like you know. the usual stuff.” 

“that you’re ugly?” he asks. 

it's almost embarrassing, but his look is so unrelenting that you have to give in. you nod, as sukuna takes his hands off of your legs, bringing them up to cup the side of your face this time. he snakes one of his hands into your hair, yanking the bow out as he curls it in his hand. 

“do you believe him?” he asks. 

“no.” you respond. 

sukuna leans closer, his lips brushing against yours as you instinctively shut your eyes. that it burns too much to look at him. 

“are you lying to me?” 

“n-no.” you mumble back, as you try to lean in but feel sukuna pull back. 

when you open your eyes, you can’t but pout as he smiles at you, as he grins at you after pulling away. 

“don’t be a tease, sukuna.” 

he laughs into your neck, before the warmth blooms on your neck as his lips connect to your skin, as he leaves a trail of warm kisses up the side of your neck. each new spot he touches has you nearly melting in his touch, as he can feel you slouching onto him, leaning your entire body weight against his. 

he continues that way, refusing to kiss you full on the mouth, as you feel your skin bloom warmth with every new place that he touches. each of your cheeks, the tip of your nose, even your eyelids that you’ve fluttered shut this entire time. some part of it is agonizing, that he continues to give but won’t receive in return. 

you take his collar into your hands, crumpling the fabric as you yank him straight and feel him smile against your lips. 

“needy?” 

“please. i want to-” 

sukuna cuts you off before you can finish your request, the first inclination of your begging snapping the very little patience he had in the first place. your lips are soft and warm against his, as you surely spread that glittery nonsense over him, over his neck as you start peppering kisses over him. from how shy and awkward he’s seen you, he swallows down the surprise at how eager you are, at the way you’re basically pawing at him through his shirt.  

except you pull back, wide eyed, when the two of you hear pounding up the step, accompanied by two voices getting louder in your ears. 

“y/n!!! y/n, y/n merry christmas!!!” yuuji bellows, as you shove sukuna onto the floor and sit upright as he pads into the room and wraps you in a hug. 

sukuna wipes his lips with the back of his hand as he stands up, giving megumi a nod, as yuuji turns to him and shakes hands. sukuna can’t help but smile at how pink your cheeks are, swollen lips and glazed eyes, as megumi and yuuji settle into both of your sides, arms wrapped around you. 

you swallow hard as you look at sukuna, wide eyed as you noticed all the lipgloss that you left over him. and pale when megumi notices the big red mark on his neck. 

“is that a rookie mark, sukuna?” 

sukuna brings his hand up to his neck, only to be met back with the glitter on his fingers as he smiles - or more appropriately, grins at you - as you feel your cheeks go pink. 

“who gave you that sukuna? your neighbor?” yuuji asks. 

you feel your eyes go wide, as sukuna pinches his eyes at yours before responding. 

“no. i haven’t talked to her in a while.” 

you tuck away the detail, making sure to ask him about it later. it’s only now that sukuna’s reputation comes to the forefront of your mind, as you realize you might have made a grave mistake by letting sukuna indulge in whatever infatuation it is he’s having with you. 

“yuuji. did you say hello to y/n’s sister?” he asks. 

“she’s back in town?” he asks, turning to you. 

“mhm. got back in today.” you murmur, as the two of them shoot you a smile and shuffle back into your room. 

sukuna lifts you up by your wrists, as he starts fixing your appearance little by little. you can feel him zipping up the back of your dress - entirely unsure when he even had the time to do that - as he snags the little bow from his pocket and smooths it back into your hair. 

“whose your neighbor?” 

“jealous, princess?” he asks. 

you turn around, poking one of your hands into the muscle of his chest. 

“sukuna. i am not going to be one of your little lack-” 

“you are not a lackey.” he whispers. 

you pout at him, entirely disbelieving, as he wraps his hands around your face, the kiss sweeter, softer than the ones the two of you had just shared on the bed. 

“you’d kill me if you did that.” you murmur. 

“you think i relish in your pain?” he asks. 

“dunno. you-” 

he leans your head up again, tucking his head into the softness of your neck as he starts peppering kisses you again. your hands are a futile attempt to stop him, as he laughs into your skin. 

“i’m here to make you feel good. i’ve been thinking about it for weeks.” 

“oh?” 

“let me. you- you’ve always been my pretty girl. and no one can make you feel good, treat you like you should, better than me.” 

you push him off again as megumi and yuuji come back, with your sister in tow, as they gesture for you to join them downstairs. and sukuna follows behind, as you fight the urge to beam, when he secures his hand into yours behind their backs.

--

next part linked here

an: do NAWT ask for a part 2 bc I will do it. my brain is steaming. I am thinking thoughts.

taglist: @porridgesblog @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea @skzismyhome @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @luna0713hunter @shotenvinsoot @itzmeme @gojoswifeyyys-world @cutiejg @chilichopsticks

[y0ur-lovrr]

this doesn't really give you a idea but maybe a angst with chishiya?

—Forgotten Memories.

A/n; I didn’t rlly have an idea for this one, so if it’s bad i apologize, but ty for leaving a request!! <3

Pairing; Chishiya Shuntaro x Reader <3

—The only sounds around you are the sounds of the light breeze and the light and ragged breaths of Chishiya underneath you, biting back small grunt as you keep your hands forced against his gunshot wound.

Your own breaths are ragged and pained, you having your own gunshot wound on your side, though you refused to care for it right now considering that Chishiya is bleeding out in front of you.

“Stop it-you’re also bleeding out, you know?” Chishiya grunt, trying to put pressure against your own wound, though not having much energy to do so.

“I’m fine…We’re gonna be okay-Arisu and then are finishing the last few games..and we’re gonna go…home.” You mutter through slightly gritted teeth, pausing to let out shaky breaths, trying to keep yourself awake and grounded despite your body starting to feel weaker.

He lets out a small grunt as your knees suddenly buckle beneath you, making you almost crash down against him, his arms instantly grabbing you by your shoulders and pushing you to sit down beside him as he leans back against the abandoned car.

For once, he doesn’t know what to say, and you don’t either. Instead sitting in silence as one of your hands leave his wound to press onto yours, putting as much pressure as you can in order to attempt to slow the bleeding. You can feel the warm and thick liquid coat your hands, staining your shirt and bottoms, your eyes trained on the sky above you.

But after a few moments suddenly fireworks start to light up the sky, making his eyes also drift upwards, his eyebrows slightly raising.

“All surviving players will be presented with two choices.” The robotic voice of the game plays out from the sky, and you huff slightly in reply, Chishiya letting out a quiet hum.

“Players must now all decide whether to accept permanent residence in this country, or decline it.”

And then it’s silent, besides the sounds of the fireworks in the sky and your own breathing and heartbeat that plays in your ears.

Chishiya waits for a second to catch his breath, before he breathes out, “I decline.”

And without missing a beat you reply too. The words “I decline, I decline the offer” leave your mouth in a quiet mutter, not having much breath or strength left in you.

One of your hands reach over and grab onto one of his, gently gripping his fingers against yours, but chishiya doesn’t decline it and instead gives yours a gentle squeeze.

But what worries him is when he hears your breathing start to get quieter, making his head turn towards you, his eyebrows slightly furrowing as he sees how your eyes flutter closed.

He mutters your name, concern etching its way into his normally casual tone, giving your hand a tug as he calls your name again, but then, he suddenly feels his eyes close, his own consciousness leaving him, but he spends the last bit of his consciousness trying to shake you awake-not wanting you to go to sleep forever.

—You’re walking down the hospital hallway-more like stumbling, having a small crutch to help you walk. You’ve been awake for a day now, having been told about how a meteor had hit Shibuya-and you were in its space when it happened, along with others. You were dead for a minute, but you were brought back with cpr, but being left injured from the blow.

“Apologies, but do we know eachother?” A voice rings out from behind you as you walk towards a vending machine, your fingers pausing just before you’re about to put your money in.

“Uhm…” you mumble as you turn your head to look at the voice, and then you see him. A guy around your age, bleached hair and also using a crutch. But you can’t remember if you do know him, but you can feel a small sense of familiarity-but you don’t know him, you would’ve remembered him if you did.

“I have no idea who you are, sorry.” You mumble with a small sigh, staring at him for a second more before you turn back towards the vending machine and put your money in, selecting your item and waiting for it to fall down.

“Oh. I just get the feeling we know eachother, that’s all.” He says with a small huff, shifting on his feet slightly, watching as you struggle to bend down and grab your item.

“Well I don’t know you, so..” you mutter with a huff, glancing at him for a second before you walk past him with your crutch, wanting to go back to your room, feeling his eyes watch as you leave.

As you walk away, Chishiya’s eyes don’t leave you. He can’t name it, but something about you is so familiar-but he can’t remember who you are, but something about your eyes and the way you carry yourself has a sense of familiarity. He’s unaware of what happened in the borderlands, how close you two got, and how you basically died next to eachother.

But now, you’re both back to being strangers.

[tsukumomei]

AFTER ASHES | Itoshi Sae

Alice in Borderland AU | PART 1

Tags; •fem + afab!reader, •forced proximity (friends to lovers-ish) •nsfw •softcore •sae doesn't know how to communicate •rare sweet sae at the end Summary: when you suddenly find yourself in a deserted Tokyo, where participating in deadly games is the only way to survive, your mind is consumed by one goal: to escape and return to the comforts of the real world. Survival demands wit, courage, and the willingness to face unimaginable challenges. Yet, amidst the chaos and despair, something unexpected happens. You meet Sae. What starts as a reluctant alliance blossoms into something deeper. CW: •wc; 17k •MDNI •aged-up •violence •gore •murder •death games •psychological distress •depictions of survival scenarios •betrayal and manipulation •themes of isolation and despair •graphic injuries •explicit sexual content •coercion and power dynamics PART 2

You were being chased. 

The frantic pounding of footsteps behind you left no doubt, they weren’t even trying to hide their presence. Judging by the heavy thuds, four, maybe five people were tailing you through this decaying amusement park. 

Each breath burned your lungs, the metallic taste of adrenaline bitter on your tongue. The broken key to your escape dug into your palm as you clutched it tightly, cursing your bad luck. Why did it have to be you holding this thing? Why not Chigiri? He could’ve easily outrun them; this was his element, not yours.

The pressure of the past few days crashed into you as you stumbled over cracked asphalt, the haunted screams of distant animatronics mingling with the mayhem in your mind. 

How did it come to this? 72 hours ago, you were still walking the familiar, lively streets of Shibuya, laughing with your best friend Kaede like everything in the world was perfectly normal.

“Come on!” Kaede had teased the previous day, her eyes alight with excitement as she tugged at your arm, weaving through the crowds, her beautiful blonde hair catching the breeze like a golden veil. “We’re going to miss the movie if you keep walking this slow!”

If only. If only that best-friend date hadn’t been interrupted by that blinding flash at the crosswalk. If only the world hadn’t tilted sideways in that unexplainable moment.

Now, here you were; desperate, breathless, and running for your life. Nothing had been normal since that day.

You thought back to the moment you regained consciousness, laid flat on a nearby bench. Shibuya, once alive with its bright lights and crowded streets, had turned into an eerie ghost town. No cars. No chatter. Not even a stray breeze to rustle the leaves.

“Kaede?” you had called, your voice trembling as you blinked into the unsettling void.

“I’m here,” Kaede had replied, her fingers gripping your arm like a lifeline. Gone was her usual confidence, her eyes darting around the empty city like a cornered animal.

You clung to her then, just as you do to her memory now, forcing your legs to keep moving. Kaede, with her bright spirit, was your anchor in a world turned on its head. Two halves of a whole. You’d survived the initial shock together. You’d survived the first game together. You’d survive this, too.

Wouldn’t you?

The snapping of twigs behind you killed your thoughts and solidified that this is reality. You tightened your grip on the jagged piece of the key. It felt like a joke. So small and incomplete, yet capable of deciding your fate. If you wanted to live, you needed the rest of it.

Just as your legs threatened to give out, a familiar flash of red streaked toward you.

“Y/N!” Chigiri’s voice cut through the chaos, his figure appearing out of the shadows. He skidded to a stop beside you, holding out two more fragments of the key. “I’ve got them. Kaede’s right behind me.”

Before you could respond, Kaede stumbled into view, breathless but determined. She waved the final piece triumphantly. “We’re not dying here, not today!”

Relief washed over you like a wave, but there was no time to celebrate. The pursuers were still on your heels, their shouts growing louder.

“This way!” Chigiri called, taking the lead as Kaede grabbed your hand. The three of you sprinted through the winding paths of the amusement park, dodging rusted rides and shattered glass.

When you finally reached the exit, Bachira was already there, as usual, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “You guys sure took your time!” he called out, eyes scanning the horizon. “Hurry, they’re right behind you!” To think he still had the urge to joke around is absurd.

You quickly fumbled with the key pieces, hands shaking as you fit them together. It clicked into place just as the first pursuer burst into view.

“Go, go, go!” Bachira urged, holding the gate open as Chigiri pushed you and Kaede through.

The heavy metal gate clanged shut behind you. On the other side, the shouts of your pursuers were abruptly silenced, replaced by the mechanical voice declaring “Game over” and the sickening, wet sound of blood splattering against the wall. 

For a moment, no one moved, the reality settling like a suffocating weight—to live is to take away someone else’s life.

The four of you crumpled to the ground, gasping for breath. Your chest heaved, your body coated in dirt and sweat. The metallic tang of fear lingered in the air as you exchanged fleeting glances, each face pale and hollow. But you were alive, though barely.

For a moment, no one spoke, the weight of your escape settling over you. Then Kaede broke the silence with a shaky laugh, attempting to mask her conflicted feelings. “That was way too close.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, clutching the now-complete key. It was over. 

Bachira flopped onto his back with a grin that could only belong to someone completely unbothered by narrowly escaping death. “Man, that was fun! Let’s do it again sometime!”

“Fun?” Kaede shot him an incredulous glare, her voice still breathless. “We almost died back there!”

Before Bachira could retort, your phones vibrated simultaneously, a sharp buzz breaking through the tense atmosphere.

With trembling hands, you reached into your pocket, pulling out the device. The screen flickered to life, casting an eerie glow in the dim surroundings. On it was a single message, stark and bold:

GAME CLEAR7 of Clubs Complete

The realization hit you hard. You’d done it. Somehow, against all odds, you’d survived.

You nodded. “We wouldn’t have made it without each other.”

“Especially me,” Bachira chimed in, holding up his phone with a triumphant grin. “I totally nailed that waiting-by-the-exit thing.”

Kaede groaned, shaking her head. “Don’t push your luck, Bachira.”

Despite the tension, you couldn’t help but let out a small, weary laugh. For a brief moment, the brutality of this world seemed to lift, replaced by a fragile sense of victory.

But as you looked back at the eerie silhouette of the amusement park, the gruesome reality of your situation settled in once more. This wasn’t over. The games would keep coming, each more brutal than the last.

“Let’s get back,” Chigiri finally said, rising to his feet and offering you a hand. His grip was steady, and it gave you reassurance. “We need to get this to Isagi.”

He held up the 7 of Clubs card, its edges catching the faint glow of the moonlight.

───🃁🃜🃚🃖🂭🂺🃁───

You first met Isagi Yoichi’s team when you stumbled out of your first game with Kaede, a horrid game that left only the two of you as survivors.

Isagi was the one who approached you first. His calm demeanor gave him an air of leadership. “You made it through your first game. A heart one at that, impressive,” he said, offering a hand.

Kaede, though reluctant, shook it firmly. “We didn’t have much of a choice.”

Bachira, back then, was perched on the edge of a badly beat up, ripped couch, grinning widely. “I like them already. They’ve got guts.”

“Guts won’t keep you alive here,” Barou said flatly from the chair he was sitting at, his piercing red orbs assessing you and Kaede. His kingly demeanor added an edge to the room, making you instinctively cautious of him.

As you and Kaede settled into the group, you quickly found your rhythm. You worked well as a team. Your background as a high diver gave you focus and stamina, while Kaede’s part-time experience as a stuntwoman gave her an edge in high-pressure situations. The others didn’t make a big deal out of it, but it was clear that your skills were definitely a significant advantage when it comes to survival.

───🃁🃜🃚🃖🂭🂺🃁───

Back at your safe house, you sit with Kaede, reflecting on how drastically your lives have changed. You both knew you might have gone insane if you hadn’t found another person that day. Luck had led you to be saved by a group. Still, you’re acutely aware that this community is anything but permanent. Danger always lingers, yet the relief it offers is undeniable.

Then, without warning, a deafening explosion shakes the building. The walls rumble violently, plaster rains down in chunks, and smoke billows from cracks in the structure.

“Move!” Isagi shouts, his voice cutting through the confusion.

You barely manage to grab Kaede’s arm as the two of you bolt for the nearest exit. 

Around you, the others scramble, coughing through the thick smoke and dodging falling debris. You and Kaede are among the first to break through to the outside, gasping for air in the cold night. Behind you, the safehouse collapses further, its frame buckling under another fiery explosion.

Shidou stumbles out, his eyes darting like an animal’s. “Well, that’s one way to clear out!”

“Where do we go?” Kaede demands, tugging you closer to her as the group gathers on the street.

“Anywhere but here!” Chigiri retorts, his reddish-pink hair catching the firelight as he scans the dark streets.

Before anyone can decide, the low growl of an engine tears through the air. A massive Jeep Gladiator skids to a halt in front of you, its steel frame glinting in the orange glow of the flames. 

Its appearance makes it look as though it could withstand just about anything. A fortress on wheels.

The passenger-side window rolls down, revealing a man with sharp, mismatched eyes that glimmer even in the dim light. One eye is a distinct, almost hypnotic green, while the other is a deep, ocean blue. The contrast between them is unnerving, but there’s something about the way his gaze sweeps over the group that speaks of experience. His face is partially obscured by shadow, but his voice is steady and commanding.

“Get in.”

You and the others freeze, the tension thick as everyone exchanges wary glances. The man’s tone leaves little room for argument, but suspicion hangs in the air.

“Who the hell are you?” Reo snaps, stepping forward but keeping his distance.

“Does it matter?” the man retorts, his mismatched eyes narrowing. “Unless you’d rather stick around and wait for whoever bombed your hideout to come back.”

Bachira, standing slightly apart from the rest, tilts his head, his grin faint but noticeable. “I dunno about you guys, but this feels less explode-y than staying here.”

“Right?” Shidou adds, his wild demeanor returning as he strides toward the Jeep. “I love explosions but I’m not about to die all pretty like this.” Without waiting for anyone’s approval, he climbs in the back of the truck.

“Shidou!” Kaede snaps, her vexation boiling over.

“What?” he says with a shrug. “They’ve got wheels, and I don’t wanna walk.”

Bachira follows him without hesitation, jumping into the back of the truck as well. “Guess I’m going too. This thing kinda looks fun.”

You glance at Kaede, who glares at the vehicle as though willing it to disappear. “Kaede…” you murmur, gripping her arm. “We don’t have a choice.”

Yukimiya adjusts his glasses, his usual composure faltering just slightly. “They’re right. Out here, we’re vulnerable.”

Chigiri faces Kaede and nods reluctantly. “I can’t outrun another explosion. I’m in.”

Kaede curses under her breath, dragging you along as she heads for the Jeep. “If this is a trap, I’m throwing you out first,” she mutters.

The man with mismatched eyes watches silently as one by one, you all pile into the Jeep. You end up wedged between Kaede and Chigiri, the interior cramped but enough to offer a strange sense of protection.

As soon as Kaede slams the door shut, the driver with salmon locks floors the accelerator, and the vehicle lurches forward, speeding away. Inside, the air is thick with tension. 

The man in the passenger seat finally speaks, his voice steady. “Whoever targeted you knows what they’re doing. If you want to stay alive, stick with us.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” Reo mutters, his tone sharp. “Why should we trust you?”

The man glances back, “You don’t have to trust me. But I’ll remind you..” his mismatched eyes gleaming in the dim light. “Trust isn’t what keeps people alive here. It’s survival instinct that does.”

His words hang in the air as the truck roars down the deserted streets, leaving the destruction behind. You grip the edge of your seat, your heart pounding as you stare out the window, wondering if you’ve just escaped one danger only to run headfirst into another.

───🃁🃜🃚🃖🂭🂺🃁───

It turns out they were taking you to another safe house. What was once a luxurious resort in the real world. Known as The Beach. The pristine pools glimmer and the sleek modern design of the resort still carries an air of opulence. People mill about in swimsuits and casual clothing, but the carefree appearance felt like a facade. 

The atmosphere is heavy with tension, the invisible threads of hidden agendas simmer beneath the surface, you had just gotten there, but that much is obvious.

Your getaway driver from earlier, who introduces himself as Sendou, walks alongside you and Kaede, guiding you toward the heart of the Beach. It’s unbelievable how he’s unable to hide the fact that he has a thing for Kaede.

He’s grinning, his easy going demeanor the exact opposite of the nerves shivering in your chest and sweaty hands. “Welcome to the Beach,” he says, gesturing to the bustling crowd. “It’s not much, but it’s home, at least for me.”

At the center of it all stands Ego Jinpachi, the enigmatic leader of the Beach. Dressed in a crisp white shirt and sunglasses, he exudes control and intellect. His assertive tone cuts through the murmurs as he addresses the crowd from a raised platform.

“I created the Beach to bring order to the chaos of the Borderland,” Ego declares, his voice rising with conviction. “Here, we don’t rely on blind luck or brute force. We rely on strategy, intelligence, and teamwork. But none of that matters if you don’t recognize your own worth. You must believe in your ability to rise above the games. Because if you don’t, you’re already dead.”

If you’re being completely honest, you have no idea what this man is going on about—Ego this, Ego that. Sure, you get that he’s trying to give a pep talk to lift the spirits of a crowd that’s clearly beaten down, but wow, he does get carried away.

Beside him, Anri Teieri speaks next, her calm tone providing balance to Ego’s uncompromising tone. “The Beach’s structure is designed to give everyone a chance to survive,” she explains. “But cooperation and loyalty are non-negotiable.”

She pauses, letting the weight of her words settle before continuing. “There’s one more rule,” she says, her voice steady but firm. “All participants must adhere to the dress code. That means beach attire—swimsuits, casual clothing, leaves little to the imagination.”

The murmurs in the crowd grow louder, confusion and unease rippling through the participants. Anri doesn’t flinch, her gaze unwavering, determined. “The reason is simple,” she explains. “It ensures transparency and trust. No one can hide guns, knives, or any other weapons in beach clothes. This rule is about survival. The fewer opportunities for treachery, the safer we all are.”

Sendou gestures toward the raised platform where the Beach’s most prominent figures stand. “Let me give you a quick rundown,” he says, leaning in. “These are the big shots, the ones who keep this place running. Knowing who’s who can mean the difference between survival and, well, death.”

He nods toward the man who saved you all earlier, the one with the mismatched eyes. He was leaning casually against the railing. “That’s Oliver Aiku. Looks chill, doesn’t he? Don’t let it fool you, he’s got a brain that works faster than most, and he’s the guy you want on your side in a tight spot. If you’re lucky, he might even flash you that charming grin of his.” Kaede isn’t impressed.

Next, Sendou gestures toward the man with bleach-blonde hair, ice-blue eyes, and a self-assured smirk. “That one? That’s Michael Kaiser. The ‘I’m better than you’ aura? Yeah, that’s not just for show. He’s got a sharp tongue to match his sharp mind, and he doesn’t care who knows it. You’ll know you’ve done something right if he even acknowledges you exist.”

Sendou’s hand shifts to the figure standing close to Kaiser. “And that’s Alexis Ness, the guy with purple hair and a quiet vibe. Don’t underestimate him, he’s really loyal to everything that Kaiser does. When you deal with Kaiser, you’re dealing with Ness too.”

He then points to a man with tan skin and a buzz cut. “That’s Julian Loki, the ‘God Sprinter.’ When it comes to spade games, he’s the best there is. Fast on his feet and  always one step ahead.”

Finally, his gaze lands on a towering figure with distinctive gold teeth (actual gold), exuding a laid-back demeanor. “And that’s Don Lorenzo. Big, quiet, and scary as hell when he wants to be. He’s the enforcer here, the guy who makes sure no one steps out of line. If you’re smart, you won’t give him a reason to look your way.”

Sendou pauses, his grin faltering slightly as his tone grows colder. “And then, there’s him.” He gestures to a figure seated at the edge of the group, his posture relaxed, but his presence commanding. His reddish-brown hair catches the light, his sharp gaze fixed like he owns the place.

“See that guy with the thick under lashes? Sae Itoshi. Quiet, deadly smart, and not someone you want to mess with. His eyes? They’re already sizing you up, figuring out what you’re worth before you even open your mouth.”

Sendou’s expression darkens, a trace of bitterness slipping through. “Sae doesn’t care about anyone but himself. He’s the type who’d throw you to the wolves if it benefitted him. Arrogant prick thinks he’s better than the rest of us, and honestly? He probably is, but that doesn’t make it any less annoying.” 

He shakes his head, as if trying to shrug off his own words. “Trust me, if you can avoid dealing with him, do it. Life’s easier that way.”

Sendou steps back, folding his arms as he surveys the group. “That’s the crew keeping the Beach alive. Stick to the rules, show your worth, and you might just make it out of this place in one piece. But cross any of them?” He whistles low, shaking his head. “Well, you won’t be around long enough to regret it.”

You take a mental note on each executive, their demeanor, and the subtle dynamics among them. However, as Ego’s commanding voice thundered across the gathering, your focus began to waver. Not out of disinterest, but because your gaze had been drawn to someone among the Beach’s elite.

Seated near the edge of the platform, he was striking, like his face had been carved with meticulous precision. Itoshi Sae had an air of unshakable confidence. 

Despite the chaos of the Beach, he remained unbothered, like none of it mattered enough to warrant his full attention.

His mere presence seemed to create a gravitational pull of a sort, and before you realized it, you were caught staring. How does someone carry themselves like that? you thought, barely processing Kaede nudging you to pay attention to Ego’s speech. Sae’s gaze flicked across the crowd like a predator surveying prey, but there was no malice in his eyes. Just cold detachment.

You knew better than to let anyone at the Beach intimidate you, but he wasn’t intimidating. No, he was something else; aloof, perhaps? The kind of person who made you want to know more, even if you sensed that getting too close might burn you.

“Y/N.”

Kaede’s sharp whisper pulled you out of your thoughts. You blinked and realized Ego was looking directly at you now, waiting for an answer to a question you hadn’t even listened to. Heat rushed to your face as you forced your attention back to the leader’s speech, inwardly cursing yourself for getting so distracted.

Still, as Kaede elbowed you again, mouthing, focus, you couldn’t help but let your gaze flicker towards the redhead one more time. He was watching Ego now, his expression unchanged, and utterly captivating.

As the crowd disperses, Ego’s sharp eyes land on you and Kaede. He gestures for the two of you to approach, and now you wonder where the boys had gone? Heart pounding, you step forward, Kaede close beside you.

“New arrivals,” Ego says, his tone neutral but probing. “What do you bring to the Beach?”

Kaede speaks first, steady despite the weight of his attention. “We’ve survived five games so far. We’re quick thinkers and adaptable.” A very basic textbook answer, but you figured it was better than just keeping your mouth shut.

Ego’s lips curl into a faint smirk. “Adaptability is a good start,” he says. “But remember, knowing your worth isn’t just about survival. It’s about domination. If you don’t seize control of your narrative, someone else will.”

You exchange a glance with Kaede, both of you silently resolving to prove your place here. As the Beach’s dynamics unfold, one thing is for sure; Ego’s philosophy of self-worth and survival will test every fiber of your being.

The blonde man, who you understood to be Kaiser, strides forward before anyone can speak, his icy blue eyes locking onto you with an intensity that sends a jolt through your chest. His lips curled into a playful grin but all you could notice was the distinct blue rose tattoo that adorned his neck.

“Well, well,” he drawls, his voice smooth and teasing. “I didn’t expect the Beach to get so much brighter today. Tell me, are you here to play the games, or just to distract the rest of us?”

Kaede stiffens beside you, protective instincts flaring, but you keep your composure. “I’m here to survive, just like everyone else,” you reply firmly, refusing to let him get under your skin.

Kaiser chuckles, clearly enjoying the exchange. “I like that fire! Don’t lose it, it’s rare around here.” He leans in slightly, his voice dropping just enough for only you to hear. “But if you ever need an ally, I can make things… interesting for you.”

Ness sighs softly, his gaze sharp as it flickers between you and Kaiser. “Kaiser,” he murmurs, his tone holding a note of warning.

Kaiser smirks but steps back, his eyes lingering on you for a moment longer. “Think about it,” he says before turning away.

Kaede leans in, whispering sharply, “What was that about?”

“I have no idea,” you mutter, catching a glimpse of the executive with reddish hair making his exit.

───🃁🃜🃚🃖🂭🂺🃁───

The nearby river feels like an entirely different world, away from the city chaos. The stars sparkle brightly in the cloudless sky, untouched by the glare of city lights. 

You stand at the edge, mindlessly skipping stones, each bounce rippling across the water's surface.

Despite the hope that the presence of companions can provide, moments like these remind you of the need for solitude. 

In the real world, this place would be off-limits—a restricted area—but that never stopped you from sneaking in at night. Here, the only sounds were the soft splashes of stones meeting shallow water, a perfect place to clear your thoughts.

You were distraught. Grief clings to you like a second skin. The pain of witnessing death after death, the desperation etched on the faces of those who gave up, and the stifling feeling of uncertainty. You were a med student just fresh out of university, with dreams and plans that now felt like whispers from some past life. This was your life now.

The questions flood your mind, relentless and unanswered. Where are you? Did some God pluck "chosen" people and leave the rest behind? Had the rest of the world simply ceased to exist, or was this some distant, desolate future where humanity had burned itself out? Did you travel through time? There was no logical reasoning for any of this. All these theories haunted you until it was cut off by a voice you had never expected to hear so close to you.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he called out to you, carrying a tinge of curiosity.

Startled, you turned to see Itoshi Sae himself standing a few feet away, hands in his pockets. 

His calm presence was almost jarring against the backdrop of your inner turmoil. After remembering Sendou’s description of this man, you opted to be casual, respectful but not too friendly. “Something like that,” you reply, turning back to throw the pebble in your hand. “It’s hard to relax in a place like this.”

Sae steps closer, his movements measured, until he’s standing beside you. His gaze follows yours, scanning the city lights that flicker like dying embers.

“You get used to it,” he says, his tone devoid of comfort but not entirely unkind.

There’s a sharpness to him, a precision that feels as if it could cut through the hardest of stones. But beneath that, you catch glimpses of something else, something you couldn’t quite explain. 

If you had just nodded at him, you knew there'd be a 99% chance he wouldn't ask a follow up question, but against your better judgement, you keep the conversation flowing. “Do you ever think about what’s next?” you ask softly, breaking the silence.

Sae doesn’t answer immediately. “No point in dwelling on it. What matters is surviving the next game.”

His pragmatism doesn’t surprise you, but it frustrates you nonetheless. “And after that? Do you even want to go back to the real world?”

This time, Sae turns his head to look at you. “Does it matter?” he counters. “The real world wasn’t much better than this one.”

You frown, his words striking a chord. “That’s not true for everyone. Some of us have people waiting for us out there. Lives we want to return to.”

Sae’s gaze lingers on you for a moment longer before he looks away, his jaw tightening. “That’s a dangerous mindset to have here. Hope gets people killed.”

His words ignite a spark of defiance in you. “Hope is what’s keeping me alive.”

For the first time, Sae’s lips twitch, almost forming a smirk. It’s not mocking, though, if anything, it feels as if… he’s impressed.

“You’re stubborn,” he remarks, his tone neutral but carrying a trace of amusement.

“And you’re cynical,” you shoot back, a small smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

“Word of advice, Miss?” Sae asks, his voice casual but laced with an unspoken question.

You pause for a moment, then give a slight nod, understanding the subtle request. “Oh, it’s Y/n. Y/n L/n.”

“Miss Y/n,” he repeats, testing the sound of your name, and there was no reason for it to sound that nice rolling off his lips.. "Don’t let your guard down," he says, his tone steady, “even out here” more of a warning than just a statement.

You meet his gaze, nodding in acknowledgment, but you don’t say anything. It’s enough that you understand. And just like that, he turns and walks away, leaving you alone on the riverside. The faint echo of his footsteps fades, but his words linger, intertwining with the stillness of the night.

───🃁🃜🃚🃖🂭🂺🃁───

The air felt heavy as you stepped out of your room. You had to wear a swimsuit as per the beach’s rules so now you were donning a dark blue two-piece. As a former high diving athlete, you were used to wearing little to no clothing but it still felt uncomfortable in a place that attempted to claim your life every time,  so you decided to drape yourself with a thin, white cover-up.

The lingering buzz of last night's encounter with Itoshi Sae stayed in your thoughts. Shaking the distraction from your mind, you focused on what lay ahead.

Ego’s summons had come at sunrise, summoning all of you to the main hall. He stood at the center of the room, his hands clasped behind his back, with Anri by his side. His voice rang out, sharp and calculated. “Today, we move forward with strategic assignments. Each of you will participate in a game tailored to your potential. Success strengthens the Beach, and failure...” 

He paused, his glasses catching the light ominously. “...is not an option.”

Kaede, standing beside you, shifted uneasily. “They’re really splitting us up,” she murmured under her breath.

You didn’t reply, your stomach twisting as Ego continued.

The room buzzed with soft murmurs as people digested the assignments. Some whispered reassurances to their teammates, and others exchanged uneasy glances.

Itoshi Sae, as usual, stood apart from the group, his detached expression giving him an almost otherworldly air. He gave the list a brief, disinterested glance before turning to leave, exuding an air of quiet authority that seemed to draw attention effortlessly.

Kaede leaned closer. “I’ve got Aiku, and you’ve got…” She trailed off, following your gaze to where Sae had been standing. “...That guy.”

You tore your eyes away from him, giving her a small shrug. “Yeah. Lucky me.”

Kaede tilted her head. “Just stay on your toes. He seems… intense. Hot, but intimidating.”

“Don’t worry about me,” you said, trying to muster confidence. “Just focus on your own game.”

She gave you a lopsided smile, though the concern in her eyes lingered. “Deal. But you owe me a debrief after.”

“And you?” you countered, the thought of her under Aiku’s command making you uneasy.

Kaede smirked, the shadow of her usual bravado returning. “Aiku’s charming, but I’ll be fine.”

As the crowd began to break apart, you both exchanged a quick nod, a silent promise to make it through the day.

You found Sae waiting near the lobby, his tall, lean frame leaning casually against a pillar. Dressed in a white, button down shirt, the sharp angles of his features were only emphasized by the dim light. His teal eyes locked onto you as you approached, and for a moment, you forgot how to breathe.

“You’re here,” he said simply, pushing off the pillar with a fluid motion. “Good. Let’s get this over with.”

His tone was as detached as ever, but the way his gaze lingered on you betrayed a flicker of acknowledgment.

“Do you even know what we’re walking into?” you asked, trying to mask your nerves.

A ghost of a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “You’ll either keep up or you won’t.”

Annoyance flickered within you, but you swallowed it down. “I’ll hold my own.”

He regarded you for a moment, his expression neutral. “We’ll see.”

───🃁🃜🃚🃖🂭🂺🃁───

The meeting point for the game was deep in the woods, where a cliff loomed over a crystal-clear lake. The stillness of the forest made the setting almost serene, but the stark drop of the cliff and the ominous instructions on the digital board at its base shattered any illusions of peace.

Sae stood at the edge of the cliff, his features lit by the soft light filtering through the trees. His piercing gaze flicked from the board to the lake below, then back to the group. He hadn't spoken much since you arrived, but his quiet, commanding presence spoke volumes.

The other participants—Renji, Ayaka, Kaito, and Yumi—gathered near the base of the cliff, their faces a mix of unease and dread. Renji, tall and broad-shouldered, paced anxiously, while Ayaka clung to her jacket, her eyes nervously darting toward the drop. Kaito, who had seemed confident at first, now wore a deep frown, while Yumi, silent and trembling, struggled to mask her fear.

The holographic screen flickered and steadied, displaying the game rules:

5 of Diamonds: The Plunge

Setup: A button is located at the bottom of the lake, 20 meters deep. Pressing this button will deactivate the laser blocking access to the pathway on the shore, which must be solved to escape. A single participant must dive from the cliff into the lake and press the button.

Conditions: Only one participant can activate the underwater button. Time limit: 20 minutes. If the button is not pressed, or the number panel is not solved within the time limit, all participants will be eliminated.

The mechanical voice echoed through the clearing: “Select the participant to perform the dive.”

The tension in the air was palpable. Renji stepped back, shaking his head. "No way. That’s too much. I’m not risking my life like that."

Ayaka winced. "I can't swim well enough for this… I'd only slow everyone down."

Kaito crossed his arms, trying to mask his nervousness with bravado. "Look, I'm a decent swimmer, but that’s a long way down. If I panic, we’re done for."

You were genuinely appalled by this game; there was no reason for it to be classified as a diamond when it so clearly demanded physical dexterity—high diving, the skill you excelled in particularly. In this world, you’d learned to be cautious about revealing your strengths too soon, because your allies could easily become your enemy overnight—a lesson you learned the hard way when Kuon betrayed your former team.

The others looked desperate, their eyes darting around, but no one dared to step forward. The weight of their indecision pressed heavily on your chest, tightening the air around you. At the edge of the group, Sae stood still, watching, calculating. You could tell he’d already set a mental timer, ready to step in if no one volunteered.

But you weren’t naïve. This wasn’t just a test of courage; this was a test to all of you. This setup was all a part of Ego’s plan. This was your chance to prove your worth to the beach’s executive.

Before the silence could stretch any further, you stepped forward. "I’ll do it."

All eyes turned to you. Renji looked surprised, Kaito skeptical, Ayaka relieved, and Yumi scared.

Sae's gaze settled on you. "You?"

"I’m a high diver, I know the form." you said firmly, meeting his piercing eyes. "I can handle this."

Sae stood, scrutinizing you. "You understand the consequences if you fail?"

You nodded, your eyes unwavering. "I understand."

"Then don’t." His words were simple, yet carried the weight of command.

The words hit harder than expected, but you didn’t flinch. Taking a deep breath, you moved to the edge of the cliff. There was no need to strip down; the bikini you wore was already practical for the dive. The murmurs from the group faded into a dull hum, the pounding of your heart the only sound in your ears.

For a moment, you froze, staring down at the lake. The faint glimmer of the metallic button at the bottom felt like a distant star, unreachable. 

The stakes were impossibly higher than anything you’d ever faced before. Fear clawed at the edges of your resolve, but you clenched your fists, trying to force the doubt away. You can do this. You’ve trained for this. This is just like the nationals, only colder, higher, and with no room for error. You’ve got this.

The wind whipped around you, tugging at your clothes as if trying to pull you back, but you planted your feet firmly. The world around you seemed to shrink until there was only the abyss in front of you and the target at the bottom of the lake.

With a final, steadying breath, you silenced every doubt and counted to three. Then, without hesitation, you launched yourself forward, leaving the solid ground behind cutting through the air in a smooth arc. 

Plunging into the void below with precise, practiced grace, the splash barely audible over the sound of the group’s frantic breathing.

The lake was darker than it had seemed from above, the sunlight barely piercing the surface. You kicked downward, your lungs burning as you searched for the button. Finally, your hand brushed against the cold metal. You worked quickly, your fingers trembling as you pressed it.

From the cliff, the others rushed down the shore toward the number panel. Renji’s and Ayaka’s cheers barely registered as you swam toward the shore, your arms trembling with exhaustion.

Sae stood there, his sharp eyes watching as you pulled yourself out of the water. His expression was as composed as ever, but there was a faint glimmer of approval in his gaze.

Renji, Ayaka, Kaito, and Yumi gathered around you, their relief palpable. "You were incredible," Ayaka said, her voice shaking.

The tension from earlier had faded, replaced with a moment of shared relief, though the game was far from over.

The number panel needed a 6 digit number as the code, only flashing the following symbols as a clue: ◆-⏲-↕

Sae’s gaze flicked over the symbols. This was a level 5 diamond game, after all, and he knew the answer immediately. But before he could speak, Yumi suddenly slipped, losing her footing on the rocky shore. Her scream echoed in the air as she fell into the lake with a splash.

Without a second thought, you dove back into the water, quickly focused on reaching Yumi. The cold water was a shock again, but you pushed through it. Yumi was struggling beneath the surface, thrashing as she tried to stay afloat. You reached her, grabbing her tightly and pulling her toward the shore.

But as you made your way back, a sharp, unexpected pain shot through your foot. You tried to shift, but the rocks beneath you were unstable, and your foot became wedged between two heavy stones. The pain was intense, and it felt like the world was closing in.

With every effort to free yourself, the water began to overwhelm you. You gasped for air, but your head felt heavy. Your body was giving out. The heaviness of the lake, the pressure in your chest, and the darkness creeping at the edges of your vision were too much.

Then, everything went black.

The group stood on the rocky shore, the tension thick as Yumi sputtered and coughed, water pouring from her lungs. She had barely been pulled from the lake, her body trembling from the cold and the near-drowning. Renji and Ayaka crouched beside her, trying to help her sit up, while Kaito paced nervously, his eyes darting toward the dark, rippling water.

"Are you okay?" Ayaka asked, her voice tinged with panic.

Yumi waved her off weakly, water streaming from her mouth as she struggled to catch her breath. "I..." she started, only to be overtaken by another fit of coughing.

Sae stood nearby, his expression cold but his sharp eyes locked on Yumi, watching her closely. "Spit it out," he ordered, his tone cutting like a blade.

Yumi coughed again, clutching her chest as she finally managed to speak. "Y/n…" she gasped, her words broken. "She… she’s stuck!"

The group froze.

"What do you mean, stuck?" Kaito demanded, his voice rising in alarm.

Yumi shook her head, struggling to get the words out. "The rocks... under the water," she stammered, her voice hoarse. "They're falling apart… trapping her… she can’t get out!"

Ayaka let out a horrified gasp, covering her mouth with trembling hands. "Oh my god. She went back for you," she whispered.

Renji stood abruptly, panic flashing across his face. "What do we do? We can’t just—"

Sae cut him off, his voice sharp and commanding. "Enough." His patience had worn thin. Not only were the others incompetent; they were actively ruining their chances of survival. And now, their uselessness was putting the only other capable member of the group at risk. 

He barely restrained the insult that threatened to escape his lips, his jaw tightening with the effort of doing so.

But his tone left no room for debate, “The code is 056020. Go.” There was no hesitation, he didn’t even wait for their acknowledgement, already turning towards the lake.

The group exchanged uneasy glances, their fear mounting as Sae began peeling off his shirt, his expression colder and more resolute than ever. The intensity in his eyes silenced any protests before they could form.

"You stay here," he commanded, fixing them with a glare that made it clear he wouldn’t tolerate dissent. "She doesn’t have time for your panic."

Renji, Ayaka, and Kaito scrambled toward the number panel, their hands trembling as they keyed in the code. The pressure of the timer and Sae’s scornful words hung heavy over them.

Without another word, he dove into the lake. The cold didn’t faze him. The lake seemed to swirl and writhe around him as he dove deeper, and in moments, his hand gripped your unconscious form. He pushed the rocks away from you, caring not to graze your bleeding leg any further as he tugged you closer.

He lifted you from the depths, your limp body weightless in his arms, as though you were nothing more than a plush doll. His voice was soft as he whispered, "You did well." The words, barely more than a breath, carried an unspoken admiration.

As he carried you to shore, the others, trembling and terrified, finally entered the code.

───🃁🃜🃚🃖🂭🂺🃁───

When you finally regained full consciousness, the scent of disinfectants filled the air, waking your racing thoughts. The chaos of the game was gone. There was only silence.

You blinked, your vision foggy as you tried to process everything. As it cleared, you found Sae sitting beside you, his eyes focused on you with an intensity you weren't used to. There was an unfamiliar flicker in his gaze—concern, maybe, though it was quickly masked by his usual coldness.

You tried to sit up, but your body felt heavy, and a sharp pain shot through your leg. Looking down, you noticed your lower leg tightly bandaged. The weight of the game, the stress—it all clung to you like a second skin. 

You were back at the beach, in your shared quarters with Kaede. 

Sae was sitting beside you, his gaze focused on you. He handed you a glass of water, his cold fingers brushing against yours briefly. You drank deeply, the cool liquid soothing your parched throat but doing little to ease the lingering ache in your body.

“What happened?” you asked, your voice hoarse and unsteady. “What time is it?”

Sae didn’t respond right away. His eyes flickered to the side for a moment, as though weighing his words carefully. When he finally spoke, his tone was as neutral as ever, stripped of any emotion,

“You were unconscious when I found you. You did your part,” he said bluntly.

Your brow furrowed at his cryptic response. “And… my leg?” you pressed, glancing down at the bandage.

“I cleaned your wounds,” Sae replied flatly, his expression neutral. “It wasn’t deep, but you bled a lot. Someone had to make sure you didn’t get an infection.”

For a moment, you stared at him, caught off guard by his admission. From what you’ve heard from the others, he wasn’t one to say things like that, let alone do something so… considerate. “Thank you,” you murmured, the words feeling heavy on your tongue.

Sae’s lips twitched, but whether it was the hint of a smile or a grimace, you couldn’t tell. “Don’t make a habit of needing help,” he said coldly, standing abruptly. “You’re lucky this time.” 

With a final glance in your direction, he left without another word.

Just then, Kaede entered the room. The worry was clear on her face, and before you could react, she jumped onto your bed, pulling you into a tight hug.

“Hey, Kae,” you groaned, wincing at the pressure on your aching body. “I missed you too, but I’ll die of suffocation if you don’t let go soon.”

Kaede pulled back slightly, her face filled with concern. “I was so worried about you, Y/n. How could you be so reckless?! Putting others before yourself like that.”

“Now, now, I couldn’t just ignore someone who needed help,” you replied with a tired smile. “But hey, how was your game?”

Kaede’s expression shifted slightly, a heaviness settling in her eyes. She quickly masked it, but you caught the subtle change. Any other person might have missed it, but you and Kaede shared a bond that no one else had. You knew her well enough to see when something was off, even if she wasn’t saying it aloud. You weren’t gonna push the subject since it clearly bothered her.

“It was fine,” she said, brushing it off with a wave of her hand. “Nothing new.” She was quick to change the subject, though, her teasing tone returning as she raised an eyebrow. “But word is running around that you made the ‘oh-so-self-centered’ Itoshi Sae save you.”

You blinked, taken aback. “What?”

Kaede chuckled, clearly amused by the rumors. “Oh, yeah. Apparently, you had to get saved by him. Way to go, Ms. Irresistible, looks like you still have it in you.”

You sighed, sinking back into your pillows as you fought off the lingering exhaustion. “It’s not like that,” you muttered, but she wasn’t convinced and continued badgering you for answers about the game.

───🃁🃜🃚🃖🂭🂺🃁───

The following morning, you walked into the lobby, only to notice your name wasn’t on the assigned list and neither was Sae’s. 

Instead, Ego had written you a personal note informing you that you’d been given a month off due to your injuries. Since you’d just completed multiple games, you had more than a month left on your visa. The news was a relief.

You headed toward the dining area, the scent of freshly prepared food filling your nose. There, at the end of a long table, Sae was seated, quietly eating his breakfast. 

“Good morning,” you said, your voice low but steady. 

Sae glanced up, nodding in acknowledgment but saying nothing. You stood there for a moment, feeling the unfamiliar quiet around you before you added, “Mind if I join you?”

With a minimal gesture, he motioned to the empty seat across from him, his eyes still fixed on the medium-rare steak in front of him. You slid into the seat, the sound of the chair scraping lightly against the floor filling the space between you.

The silence was awkward, different from the usual noise of Kaede and Bachira's constant chatter. It was strange, uncomfortable even. 

You picked at your food, the eggs on your plate still warm but not particularly appetizing. The room hummed with soft voices from other tables, but the two of you remained quiet.

Finally, Sae broke the silence, his voice low and sharp. His words caught you off guard. “Why did you do it?” he asked, his gaze never leaving yours. You weren’t expecting such a direct question this early in the day. “Why put yourself in danger yesterday? It wasn’t your responsibility.”

You stole a quick glance at him, acutely aware of the weight of his gaze. His conversations were always so unpredictable, you thought. Still, you answered, keeping your tone steady, not wanting to sound defensive. “Someone had to save her,” you said simply. “I couldn’t just stand there and do nothing.”

He tilted his head slightly, his gaze slicing through you. “You had nothing to gain,” he pointed out, his voice turning colder. “Most people here wouldn’t lift a finger unless it benefited them. Why are you any different?”

You let out a slow breath, this was starting to sound like a job interview. Your gaze drifted to the window, where the first light of day was creeping over the horizon. “Because I don’t think I could live with myself if I didn’t do what felt right,” you answered, your voice quieter now, less certain but resolute. “I don’t just want to survive, Sae. I want to remember who I am, even in this place.”

The words hung between you, and for a moment, Sae said nothing. His expression was neutral, his eyes fixed on his plate. He didn’t respond right away, as if weighing your response in his mind. When he finally spoke, his voice was softer, almost introspective. “You think that’s enough? Being yourself?”

You met his gaze now, steady but thoughtful. “Maybe not,” you admitted, “But it’s the only thing I have control over.”

He studied you for a moment, and the tension in the air seemed to shift, as though cogs had clicked into place. “You’re either brave or foolish,” he said finally, his tone still sharp but with the faintest hint of interest. “I can’t decide which.”

You let out a small, almost amused sigh. “A bit of both, probably.”

Sae huffed, his lips curling into the faintest of smirks, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Idealism isn’t going to keep you alive.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, a trace of a smile playing on your lips. “It’s not idealism,” you countered, meeting his gaze directly. “It’s just… who I am.”

“Who you are won’t matter if you’re dead.”

You held his gaze, unflinching. “Then why did you pull me out?”

The question made Sae pause. His jaw tightened for just a moment, and you could see a flicker of emotion—frustration? It was gone before you could fully catch it. He answered simply, his voice low, almost hesitant. “I didn’t want to waste the effort of watching you throw it all away.”

You smirked, a hint of sarcasm creeping into your tone. “Sure,” you replied dryly. “Because that’s all it was; effort.”

Sae’s expression shifted, his control slipping for just a fraction of a second. It was subtle, but you saw it. “Don’t misunderstand. You’re interesting, but interest doesn’t mean trust.”

“I wasn’t asking for your trust,” you said quietly, your voice softer now. “Just… trying to understand.”

For a long beat, he studied you. When he finally spoke again, it was with a quieter, almost distant tone. “If you want to survive here, don’t make decisions based on feelings. The only thing that matters is winning.”

You set your fork down, and with a probing question, you asked, “And what happens after you win?”

Sae didn’t answer immediately. He stared ahead, his gaze distant, as if considering something far beyond the confines of the dining hall. Finally, when he did speak, his voice was quieter. “I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it.”

You chuckled, the corners of your lips twitching with amusement. “Just so you know,” you said, setting your glass of water down with a soft clink, “You really suck at making casual conversation.”

His expression remained neutral, but his tone softened slightly. “It was genuine curiosity.” 

This was likely the beginning of your unlikely friendship with Mr. Genius. He was different from the rest of them after all. Perhaps Sendou had been wrong about him, or maybe he had only scratched the surface of Sae’s complexities. 

It intrigued you, drew you in, even if you weren’t entirely sure why. You wanted to get to know him, not as a means to secure your survival or win his approval, but simply as a person. A normal connection in a world where everything felt anything but that.

Still, whatever lay hidden beneath his icy exterior wasn’t something you could grasp. Not yet, at least.

───🃁🃜🃚🃖🂭🂺🃁───

“For the record, this isn’t part of the Beach’s all-inclusive package,” Sae said dryly, stepping aside to let you in his room despite his comment.

Even with the comfort and relief your month off afforded you, the boredom had crept in faster than expected. Kaede was frequently assigned tasks and spent most of her time with Aiku, leaving you with long, uneventful hours to fill. 

By the second day, you’d already exhausted your limited entertainment options and that’s how you found yourself standing outside one of the Beach’s exclusive suites. The one occupied by a certain red-haired executive.

“Really? I thought hospitality was included in the package,” you quipped, striding into the room without hesitation.

He raised an eyebrow at your boldness, closing the door behind you. “And here I thought you’d find better ways to waste your time.”

“Believe me, I’ve tried,” you shot back, scanning the room. It was impeccably tidy, with no sign of personal clutter, no books, no scattered clothes, not even an empty glass on the counter. “But since you’ve got all this space to yourself, I figured I’d grace you with some company.”

Sae gave you a flat look, crossing his arms as he leaned against the wall. “Company? Or are you just here to entertain yourself?”

“Can’t it be both?” you countered with a smirk, flopping onto one of the couches. “Besides, you owe me for saving your reputation as the cool-headed genius. Imagine what people would say if they knew you pulled me out of that game.”

He scoffed, but the faintest twitch of amusement tugged at the corner of his lips. “Let them talk. I don’t care about their opinions.”

You leaned back, folding your arms behind your head. “So, what do you do for fun, Mr. Itoshi? Or is brooding your only hobby?”

“I don’t brood,” he replied, his tone neutral but with a hint of defensiveness. “Unlike some people, I don’t need constant distraction.”

“Oh, right, because you’re too busy being a weirdo,” you teased.

He stared at you for a moment, as if debating whether to respond, before finally speaking. “If you’re going to sit here and bother me, at least make yourself useful.”

“Useful?” you echoed, feigning offense. “I’m the most useful person in this room right now. Without me, who’d remind you to lighten up?”

Sae let out a quiet huff, almost a laugh but not quite. “You’re insufferable.”

───🃁🃜🃚🃖🂭🂺🃁───

Surprisingly, Sae Itoshi could be quite agreeable.

It started small, like quiet conversations in his suite, debates about the pointlessness of certain games, and occasional sarcastic jabs that somehow felt less biting each time.

You discovered that, despite his aloof demeanor, Sae had a surprisingly talkative side when the mood struck him. Through one of those rare conversations, you learned he was a professional football player. While your football knowledge was that of a toddler, your adventurous nature wouldn’t let such an opportunity go to waste.

If only there were a football field somewhere in this eerie city, you’d have eagerly asked him to join you. But since there wasn’t, you settled for dragging him to the Beach’s bowling alley instead. 

You figured he might enjoy a ball-related game, even if it wasn’t quite the same. Of course, you didn’t dare mention your “logical reasoning” to him; he’d probably take offense at the idea that you associated bowling with his beloved soccer. 

Instead, you framed it as something to pass the time, though his skeptical glance suggested he saw right through you.

“You think rolling a ball at pins is a worthwhile way to spend time?” he asked, unimpressed.

The irony wasn’t lost on you, though you held back the urge to point it out directly. And yet you play in a team that kicks balls for a living, you thought to yourself with a smirk. “Better than sitting in your room sulking,” you shot back.

The competitive glint in his sharp eyes became unmistakable, and his precision started to show.

Neither of you had paid much attention to the scoreboard until a sudden burst of confetti erupted from the ceiling, startling you. The sound of clinking mechanisms followed, accompanied by an unexpected jingle of triumph. 

A small chute dispensed the prize: a plump seagull plush, its goofy expression and floppy wings entirely out of place in the empty, unenthusiastic bowling alley. You both stared at it for a moment before Sae picked it up, his expression a mixture of confusion and faint embarrassment.

“Here,” he muttered, thrusting it toward you without looking in your direction. His usual composure wavered.

You blinked, surprised. Your lips quirked into a small smile as you tilted your head slightly, leaning in just enough to catch a glimpse of his face. He was stubbornly avoiding your gaze, his ears suspiciously red at the edges.

“Are you going to take it or just keep staring?” he said, his voice gruff but lacking its usual bite. Finally, he turned to face you, his teal eyes flickering.

Biting back a laugh, you reached out and took the plush from his hands. It was soft and silly in design, a stark contrast to the brooding atmosphere Sae carried with him. Clutching the toy against your chest, you grinned. “Didn’t think I’d leave here with a souvenir,” you teased lightly, your tone laced with genuine gratitude. “Thanks, Sae.”

He scoffed, turning his head slightly, but not fast enough to hide the faint tint of red creeping over his cheeks. “It’s just a stupid plush. Don’t make it a big deal.”

Holding the seagull plush tighter, you couldn’t help but think that, goofy as it was, it might just be the thing anyone has ever given you.

───🃁🃜🃚🃖🂭🂺🃁───

You wondered if he’d actually warmed up to you. It didn’t feel as one-sided as it had at the start. Maybe this really had turned into a friendship—or something close to it. But the question remained: what exactly did you mean to him? Because you knew he wasn’t someone you could force into anything he did not want to do.

Sure, he complained. There were sighs, eye-rolls, muttered insults. But in the end, he always went along with it.

You were being delusional. Maybe, for him, this was nothing more than a way to pass time in this strange world. And if that’s the case you’d make the most of it.

That’s how you came up with the idea of dragging him to the karaoke rooms. It was stupid, sure, but the thought of getting someone like Sae to stand under disco lights with a microphone was too tempting to resist.

But when you opened the door to one of the karaoke rooms, you froze. 

Lounging on the plush couch was Oliver Aiku, a girl straddling his lap. Her laughter rang out as Aiku whispered something into her ear, his grin as smooth and shameless as ever.

Your gaze quickly darted to the girl’s face, and you nearly choked on your surprise—it was Kaede.

Kaede, on the other hand, looked like a deer caught in headlights.

Aiku glanced up, his expression as smug as ever. Kaede flushed bright red, quickly scrambling off Aiku’s lap.

Still laughing, you waved Kaede a quick goodbye and followed Sae out of the room, unable to resist one last quip.

If you’d learned anything that day, it was that no matter how mundane or pointless he claimed a situation to be, he would still follow you. Yet, you couldn’t fully bring yourself to believe it, knowing that if you were wrong it would only crush the growing feelings in your fragile heart.

───🃁🃜🃚🃖🂭🂺🃁───

The night air seeped through the thin cracks of your window, the cold brushing against your skin as you sat cross-legged on the floor of your room. The faint hum of the Beach’s generators was the only sound. Kaede was sprawled across the bed, her head resting on her hand as she stared at you with a look that was far too knowing.

The conversation had started innocently enough, idle talk about the games, the people here, and the way life seemed to teeter constantly on the edge of chaos. But then her words shifted, growing softer, heavier with meaning. 

“You know,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, “I think I’m falling for him. For Aiku.”

You blinked, her words pulling you from the depths of your thoughts. Aiku, the ever-charming executive with his disarming smirk. The way Kaede spoke, her voice tinged with an unfamiliar vulnerability, made it clear she was serious.

“I didn’t expect it,” she admitted, her gaze dropping to her lap. “It’s not like he’s been anything but himself—cocky, annoying, impossible to ignore. But there’s something there, something more to him.”

Her confession sent a ripple of recognition through you. That sense of being drawn to someone, of being unable to shake the weight of their presence—it wasn’t foreign to you. You felt it too, for Sae that is.

Kaede must have noticed the change in your expression because she lifted her eyes to meet yours. Her gaze was perceptive, and far too knowing. “And you,” she started, her tone gentler now. “Don’t even try to deny it. You like him, don’t you? Itoshi Sae.”

The words hit you like a blow, and your breath caught in your throat. You wanted to shrug it off, to laugh at her assumption, but the sincerity in her voice disarmed you. The cold of the room felt even sharper against your cheeks as heat crept up to them. 

You bit your lip and gave the smallest of nods, your hands clutching the edge of your blanket like a lifeline.

Kaede’s expression softened, and she sat up, her hair falling messily over her shoulder. “It’s okay, you know,” she said, her voice quieter now, as if afraid to shatter the fragile admission you’d just made. “This place… it’s cruel. It makes us cling to things, to people, to anything that feels real. You’re human. So am I.”

A laugh bubbled out of you—soft, strained, almost bitter. “Yeah, but falling in love? Now? That’s not exactly the smartest move, is it?”

Kaede tilted her head, studying you. “Maybe not. But I think he cares about you more than you realize.”

You looked away, your gaze fixed on the open windowpane, it’s a bit far-fetched. “Even if he does… I can’t risk it. What we have now—it’s good. It’s safe. I don’t want to ruin that. If I say anything, if I… admit it to him, I might lose it.”

Kaede reached out, her hand covering yours, warm against the chill of the room. “You’re scared,” she said softly. “I get it. But don’t let fear stop you. We don’t know when this nightmare is gonna end, we might as well start living it.”

Her words lingered long after she’d fallen asleep, her breathing steady in the silence. You stayed by the window, staring out into the night, your heart heavy with the truth you couldn’t bring yourself to share with him. Fear wasn’t just stopping you—it was paralyzing. Because the thought of losing Sae, even in the smallest way, was unbearable.

───🃁🃜🃚🃖🂭🂺🃁───

The Beach, with all its illusions of safety and utopia, could only hold back reality for so long. If your visa runs out, no matter where you hid, you’re dead. Today marked your last day of time off—and you already missed most of it.

When you opened the door to your room however, Sae was already standing there. His expression was unreadable, his arm extended toward the door indicating that he was one second away from knocking it himself.

“Missed me?” you teased, leaning against the doorframe.

He quirked an unimpressed brow, his voice dry as he replied, “I just wanted to check if your idiot ass didn’t accidentally get flushed down the toilet.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress the grin tugging at your lips. Without much thought, you suggested skipping stones by the nearby river—a callback to the night you first met him. You wouldn’t admit it to his face, but you’d been longing to see him, to spend time with him, no matter how mundane the activity, as long as it was with him.

Sae, predictably, was skeptical. His gaze fell to the smooth pebbles in your hand, his brow furrowing slightly as if they were alien artifacts.

You gave a small smile, clearly unfazed. “It’s therapeutic,” you countered, tossing a stone with a flick of your wrist. The stone skittered across the water’s surface, bouncing three times before it sank beneath the surface with a soft plop. “See? It’s about finding rhythm.”

Sae stared at the smooth, round stones in your hand as if they were strange objects. “Therapeutic? It’s a rock. And water,” he said, his tone more skeptical than anything else.

“Come on, show me what you’ve got,” you prodded, tossing him a stone with a playful smirk.

His first attempt was, to put it mildly, clumsy. The stone barely left his hand before it plopped straight into the river with no grace, no finesse. You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound light and genuine. 

“The great Itoshi Sae, defeated by a rock,” you teased, leaning against the riverbank with a wide grin.

His gaze flickered over to you, he really did hate losing. “Don’t push it,” he warned, though the sharp edge usually present in his tone was absent. It was almost as if your laughter had softened him, or at least caught him off guard.

Determined to prove himself, he picked up another stone, his jaw set in concentration. This time, his flick of the wrist was smoother. The stone skimmed across the water—one, two, three, four, FIVE times—before it sank with a soft ripple.

You blinked, genuinely impressed. “Not bad for a beginner,” you said, a slight, almost reluctant nod of approval following the words though betrayed by your most beaming smile.

He didn’t respond, but you caught the faintest flicker of satisfaction in his expression.

“I used to come here whenever I felt overwhelmed,” you shared, breaking the silence. Then, with a teasing grin, you added, “I’m sure you already knew that, since you were stalking me my first night at the Beach.”

His gaze flicked to you, and with practiced indifference, he replied, “I was just passing by.”

“Sure, sure,” you said, letting the topic drop as you idly tossed a pebble into the air and caught it in your palm. Your gaze drifted toward the river, your tone shifting to something quieter, more reflective. “So, it’s our last day, huh?”

“It’s not like we’re going to die tomorrow or something,” he replied casually, but his words faltered when he noticed your eyes glistening.

“We could,” you said, your voice trembling. “That’s what’s terrifying—we could die.” You buried your face in your palms, your quiet sobs breaking the night’s stillness.

The month had passed in a blur. Your moments with Sae had become a comforting routine—quiet conversations, playful banter, and a silent understanding that grounded you in this surreal reality. But as the end of the month loomed, so did the overwhelming fear of what lay ahead.

What he did next was something you never expected. Sae stepped closer. Without a word, he pulled you into his arms, his embrace firm yet careful, as if you were a fragile piece of glassware, afraid you might break. The cool night air nipped at your skin, his warmth wrapped around you, calming your frayed nerves.

“We’ll be fine,” he murmured, his voice low but resolute. “And if it helps, I’ll look out for you. Whenever I can, always.”

You pulled back slightly, looking up at him through tear-streaked lashes. “You promise?”

His response caught you off guard—not the nod or silence you expected, but a firm, steady, “I do.”

The sincerity in his voice and the gentle pat on your head made your heart ache in a way that was both painful and reassuring. For now, it was enough.

───🃁🃜🃚🃖🂭🂺🃁───

Returning to the games, you found yourself shuffled between other executives.

One day, it was Kaiser and Ness, leading a Diamond game that required intricate strategy and manipulation. The next, you were paired with Don Lorenzo for a Spade game that pushed your physical limits, his menacing smiles exhibiting his golden teeth giving you constant discomfort. Even Loki’s charm couldn’t soften the brutality of a Club game that demanded relentless cooperation among strangers who knew nothing about each other.

No matter the variation in challenges or how cunning the leaders, the truth remained constant: this place was designed to break you.

During the times you were assigned to Sae, however, things were different. The casual interactions you once shared had shifted into something more professional. He was focused, sharp, and detached in front of others. Yet, even then, he didn’t fail to show that he cared. His gestures were subtle—an extra moment of consideration, a quietly murmured “be careful,” or the way he placed himself between you and danger without hesitation.

You were certain the others noticed the faint special treatment, even if Sae masked it well. But when no one else was watching, he dropped the pretense and treated you like a friend, like he always had.

It was during one of these unguarded moments that he handed you a bottle of water after a grueling game. His tone was brusque, but his actions were anything but, pushing it into your hand before walking off.

Or the time he lingered by your side after a particularly taxing Spade game. You’d been injured. It was just a scrape, really—but his gaze had darkened when he saw the blood. Without a word, he’d torn a piece of his shirt to wrap around your arm, his movements quick and efficient.

And then came that day.

One you could never have prepared for, no matter how much time you had.

In the Borderlands, there were no police, no FBI, no medics to retrieve the bodies. Death was final, and corpses were left to rot where they fell. But this time, it was different. This time, there was an attempt at retrieval—but it was far from professional. 

The body was wrapped hastily in stained, reeking cloth, its outline grotesque, the pungent stench of death wafting through the air like a cruel mockery.

The sight offended every fiber of your being, not because of the lack of care but because of the unmistakable shade of blonde hair peeking out from beneath the blood-soaked fabric.

Kaede.

Your best friend.

You didn’t just cry—you wailed. Your voice tore through the air, a raw, guttural sound of anguish that clawed at your throat and left your chest heaving. The sobs wracked your body, a visceral release of the horror and grief that threatened to consume you whole.

It felt like the world had taken a blade and plunged it into your chest repeatedly, then run you over with a bus as the cherry on top. Your knees buckled, but you couldn’t fall. Not yet.

Bachira had explained the horror of the game she’d been trapped in, though you hadn’t needed the details to piece together the nightmare. A Heart game—vicious, cruel, and unforgiving. One player had been chosen to harbor the 9 of Hearts card, concealed within their body by the twisted hands of the game master; they would have to kill that person. 

That player had been Kaede.

She had known. 

They had all known. 

Aiku, Reo, and Bachira himself had tried everything to protect her. Even if it meant fighting and shedding blood for her sake. But she had made the ultimate choice. By slitting her throat herself to spare them, she couldn’t bear to be the sole survivor in that awful, awful game.

Her life had ended by her own hand, but the horror didn’t stop there. 

The card was needed to end the game. It was stuffed inside her lungs, to force the survivors to desecrate her body in the name of their own survival. Anri Teieri, a surgeon, was the only one capable of performing the task of retrieving it without as much as ruining her perfectly maintained corpse.

“No! Stop! Don’t touch her!” you screamed, thrashing in the lobby as they prepared to take her body away. Everything about it is sick, disgusting. Your voice cracked, and your struggles were wild, desperate, animalistic.

Sae had rushed toward you as soon as he heard the news. He was the only thing keeping you from collapsing completely. He held you back, his arms a steady force as you fought against him with everything you had.

“I’m sorry,” Reo muttered, his voice thick with tears. His face was battered, one eye swollen shut, his body covered in cuts and bruises. He cradled Kaede’s lifeless form in his arms as he carried her toward the basement where Anri waited.

“Where’s Aiku?” you screamed, your voice raw and broken.

Reo’s steps faltered. He didn’t look at you as he answered. “Unconscious. He’s in a coma… in the clinic.”

You felt like you were shattering, splintering into a million irreparable pieces.

You wanted to scream, to curse the world, to make it all stop, but Sae’s arms never left you. He had kept his word, that he’d always look out for you. He was your anchor, the only thing keeping you from being swept away by the tide of despair.

And even as the world seemed to crumble around you, his presence was the only thing that kept you standing. 

That night, Sae didn’t leave you to face the hollow void of your shared room with Kaede. Instead, he let you stay in his. The silence between you was heavy, but not unbearable, it was better than the oppressive emptiness that awaited you in yours.

That night, as you lay curled up on his bed, you asked him, your voice trembling, if he swore he’d never leave you, cause you just lost Kae, and you couldn’t bear to lose him too. 

He didn’t answer. Instead, he pulled you close, his arms encircling you in a way that felt both protective and fleeting. You buried your face in his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, and for a brief moment, it was enough.

He was still there for you in the ways that mattered most. When a game pushed you to your limits and you stumbled back into the lobby, bruised and battered, he was always the first to offer you water or silently leave a pack of bandages on your table. When nightmares jolted you awake in the dead of night, he would come moments later, as if sensing your distress, and sit beside you until you fell back asleep.

One evening, after a particularly brutal Club game, you found yourself limping back into the beach, blood trickling from a gash on your arm. Sae was waiting, leaning against the wall with his usual composed demeanor. He caught sight of your injury and immediately took your arm, leading you to a seat.

“Hold still,” he said, his voice low and steady as he cleaned the wound with practiced care.

“Thank you,” you murmured, searching his face for any sign of the warmth he once had. But his expression was unreadable, his eyes focused solely on the task at hand.

His gestures started to feel… distant. Like he was fulfilling an obligation rather than offering genuine care.

Later that night, you found a bowl of steaming soup left at your door, but when you sought him out to thank him, he was nowhere to be found.

More and more, it became harder to find him outside of games. He stopped lingering in the lobby after debriefings, his presence becoming increasingly scarce. Even during the times you were paired together, his demeanor seemed colder, more professional.

You tried to bring it up one night, catching him in a rare moment of quiet. “You’ve been distant lately,” you said, trying to keep your tone light, though the heaviness in your chest made it hard.

“I’ve been busy,” he replied curtly, his gaze fixed on the horizon rather than you.

“But—”

“You’re strong. You don’t need me hovering over you all the time,” he interrupted.

It was a contradiction, you realized. He was still there when you needed him, but he was pulling away in every other sense. It was as if he was trying to keep you safe while also building walls around himself.

You didn’t know if it was out of guilt, fear, or something else entirely. But as much as it hurt, you couldn’t bring yourself to confront him fully, not when you knew how much he’d already done for you.

And so, you let the distance grow, even as it tore at the fragile connection you still clung to.

───🃁🃜🃚🃖🂭🂺🃁───

You had always believed it would remain that way. No matter how distant he became, no matter how much he avoided you, he would never truly leave you. There was a fragile comfort in that thought, a belief that despite the growing space between you, some invisible tether still connected the two of you.

But now, curled up in your blanket after that one day, the truth weighed heavy on your chest. You had assumed wrong.

It was late that day. The Beach had settled into its uneasy quiet, the faint hum of electricity in the hallways the only sound. You had been in your room, lost in thought, when a knock startled you.

When you opened the door, Sae was standing there. His expression was unreadable, his teal eyes darker than usual, shadowed by something you couldn’t quite name.

“Sae?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He didn’t say anything, but he had sad eyes. 

He stepped forward, closing the distance between you in an instant. Before you could process what was happening, his hand cupped your face, his touch surprisingly gentle, and his lips were on yours.

The kiss was sudden, and yet it felt like the culmination of every unspoken moment between you. It was rushed, desperate, as though he were trying to say something words couldn’t convey, as though he were racing against time, as if the moment were his only chance. 

As if it was goodbye.

Your heart was pounding, your thoughts spiraling, but you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away.

And just as quickly as it started, it was over.

Sae stepped back, his hand falling to his side, his expression once again closed off. He looked at you for a moment—just a moment—and then he turned on his heel and walked away without a word.

You stood frozen in the doorway, your fingers brushing your lips, still warm from his. A thousand questions filled your mind, but no answers came. 

The door clicked shut behind you as you sank onto the bed, your thoughts a tangled mess. Whatever had just happened, it had changed everything. And yet, as much as you wanted to chase after him, to demand an explanation, you stayed where you were, uncertain and unsteady.

Sae Itoshi had kissed you, and then he walked away.

───🃁🃜🃚🃖🂭🂺🃁───

If you had the slightest idea of asking him for any sort of clarity, you couldn’t, not because you didn’t want to, but because you literally couldn’t. 

He shut you out. 

It wasn’t just the silence that stung, it was the absence of his presence, the subtle shift in the air when he was no longer around. He hadn’t spoken to you since that day, and the changes that followed were probably his doing as well. 

You no longer saw him during games. Instead, you were constantly assigned to other executives. 

At first, you thought it might be a coincidence, but as the days turned into weeks, it became painfully clear that it wasn’t. It was as though a door had been quietly, irrevocably shut between you.

The shift didn’t end there. The small gestures—those fleeting moments of acknowledgment or shared silence—became rarer. The places you’d once walked together were now foreign, empty. 

Even the odd shared glance was gone. You couldn’t remember the last time he’d looked at you with any semblance of interest, let alone spoken to you. The brief connection you had once shared seemed to be slipping away, eroding, until all that was left was a hollow echo of what once was.

And for the first time, you felt what it was like to be truly alone.

The loneliness crept in slowly at first, like a shadow you couldn’t quite shake off. 

There was a heavy emptiness in the spaces he used to occupy—his absence a constant reminder that whatever bond had existed between you had been severed. 

The laughter, the fleeting moments of understanding, the quiet companionship in a world that felt too loud—it all felt like a distant memory now.

The others? They weren’t the same. Conversations with the other executives were strained, more transactional than meaningful. They didn’t ask about you in the same way, didn’t seem to care in the same way. You were a cog in the machine to them, just another role to fill.

Even the quiet moments you used to cherish—standing at the river, skipping stones, the comfort of being near someone without needing words—felt impossibly far away now. Those moments were yours and his, but now they felt like they belonged to someone else, to a version of yourself that no longer existed.

Each day, you woke up with the sense that something was missing, but you couldn’t put your finger on what. And maybe you didn’t need to. 

The truth was already clear: you were alone. And you had no idea how long it would be before you could find your way back to something that resembled the connection you once had.

───🃁🃜🃚🃖🂭🂺🃁───

It was around 2 in the morning when you heard the knock on your door. Groaning, you rolled out of bed, still caught in the haze of sleep. Stumbling toward the door, you swung it open, expecting a false alarm or maybe your overzealous roommate. Instead, your breath caught in your throat.

It was Sae.

He stood there, his usually composed demeanor fractured, discomfort etched across his face. His shirt sleeve was soaked with blood, the dark stain spreading ominously. 

"I need your help," he said, his voice low but urgent.

His fatigue was unmistakable, and the rigid tension in his posture only made him seem more vulnerable—a version of Sae you had never seen before. 

In all honesty, you were mad at him, no, you were furious. The audacity he had to show up now, seeking your help without so much as an explanation for his sudden and complete avoidance. Every ounce of anger you’d suppressed threatened to bubble to the surface, but you weren’t a petty person. You saw the blood, the pain he tried so hard to conceal, and that was enough to silence your protests. Instinctively, you stepped aside to let him in, but the sight of your roommate fast asleep on her bed made you pause.

Sae’s gaze flicked to her, and for a moment, his teal eyes softened, understanding the situation without you saying a word.

"I’ll wait for you," he said quietly, his voice uncharacteristically patient.

Grabbing the first-aid kit from your dresser, you followed him down the hall to his room. The silence between you was almost suffocating, the sound of your footsteps echoing against the walls.

When you reached his room, he was already sitting on the couch by the window, his back turned to you. The faint glow of the streetlights filtered through the blinds, casting long shadows across the room. He unbuttoned his sleeve, rolling it up to reveal the source of the blood—a deep, jagged gash carved into his upper arm.

The sight made your stomach twist, but you forced yourself to focus. Sitting beside him, you began to clean the wound. Sae didn’t flinch, but you noticed the faint tightening of his jaw whenever the antiseptic touched raw skin. His silence was heavy, as though he was holding back not just pain but words he couldn’t bring himself to say.

"What happened?" you asked softly, breaking the quiet.

Sae hesitated, his gaze dropping to the floor. “It was a difficult one. spade game,” he said finally, his voice clipped and distant. “Got slashed during the final round.”

The weight of his words hit you like a wave. This wasn’t just about the gash on his arm—it was a brutal reminder of the relentless stakes in this world, where survival demanded more than just physical endurance. Every wound, every scar was a testament to the unforgiving cost of staying alive.

You gathered the first-aid supplies with steady hands, though your heart pounded in your chest. Sae sat silently, watching you prepare a needle and thread. The sharp metallic scent of antiseptic filled the air as you cleaned the wound, your fingers brushing against his skin.

“This is going to hurt,” you murmured, glancing up at him.

He nodded, jaw tightening as you began stitching the wound with precise, practiced movements. Each pass of the needle through his flesh was met with his silent endurance, though his sharp intake of breath betrayed the pain. 

The room was heavy with quiet, broken only by the soft rustle of bandages and the subtle rhythm of Sae’s breathing. The tension between you felt almost palpable, lingering like an unspoken truth neither of you dared to voice.

When you tied off the final stitch and leaned back to inspect your work, you let out a small breath of relief. “That should hold,” you said softly, your voice breaking the silence. But as your eyes met his, the gratitude and something deeper in his gaze made your chest tighten, leaving you wondering what words he was holding back.

Sae’s teal eyes flicked to yours. For a moment, they softened, and the tension in his shoulders eased. "Thanks," he murmured, his voice stripped of its usual sharp edge.

You stood to return the first-aid kit, the sound of the latch snapping shut echoing in the stillness of the room. When you turned back, the air in the room seemed thicker, charged with unspoken tension.

Something unspoken hung between you, growing louder in the silence.

The weight of it finally broke you.

“Am I really just someone for your convenience?” Your voice trembled, the question carrying the burden of weeks of uncertainty. “It’s unfair, you shut me out, you drop me, and then you come to me for help like nothing happened. Everything you’re doing is so unfair, Sae.”

His expression faltered, guilt flickering across his face like lightning through a darkened sky.

You pressed on, your words spilling out like a flood you couldn’t stop. “One moment, you’re prince charming—pulling me aside, whispering, ‘Come, let’s get lost for a while,’ making me feel like I’m the only person in this godforsaken hellhole who matters. And the next? You vanish. Like none of it meant anything. What am I supposed to make of that kiss?”

Tears welled in your eyes, the ache in your chest tightening like a vice. Frustration and heartache bleeding into every syllable. “If I’m wrong, just say it. Just say the words, and I’ll walk away. We can forget all of this, if that’s what you want.”

Your voice cracked, the weight of your emotions making it difficult to steady yourself.

You clenched your fists at your sides, fighting to maintain your composure.

“I’m not asking for some grand declaration of love,” you continued, your tone softer now but no less desperate. “I just can’t keep going like this, stuck in this limbo, with all these questions in my head.”

The soundproof walls of the room seemed to hold your speech, amplifying the vulnerability in every syllable as the silence around you pressed in.

Sae’s gaze fixed on yours, intense, but he remained silent. His normally detached expression was etched with shame, regret, and something you couldn’t quite place.

“Why don’t you say something?!” you exclaimed, your hands gesturing wildly, to fill the void of his silence carved into this very room.

His eyes darkened, brows knitting together as if fighting some invisible war within himself. His jaw tightened, the muscles in his neck straining as though he were holding back an eruption of words. For a moment, it seemed like he might walk away, leave you drowning in the sea of your own emotions.

But then, without a word, he reached out, catching your balled fists in his hands.

He brought them to his lips, his kiss soft but weighted with unspoken apologies. “I’m sorry,” he finally murmured, his voice barely audible. His jaw clenched, as though struggling to get the words out. “I can’t tell you everything right now. I just… I need you to trust me.”

Trust him? The thought was ridiculous, a bitter sting rising in your chest.

Your hands trembled as you shook your head, voice cracking under the weight of unshed tears.

"You don’t care about me, Sae," you choked out, the words laced with raw hurt. "You just use me... like you do everyone else." Each syllable felt like tearing open a wound, exposing the ache you’d tried so hard to bury. 

"No," he said sharply. "You don’t get it."

"Don’t I?" you shot back, your voice rising. "You act like I’m expendable, but here I am, falling in love with the most detached person in the world." 

The words lingered in the charged air, your confession landing like a stone thrown into still water.

Sae’s eyes widened, shock flashing across his face. But beneath it, there was a flicker of longing, of pain.

Sae was never a man of words. You knew that all too well. But as you turned, the weight of the moment threatening to crush you, his hand caught your wrist, keeping you from running away.

Before you could protest, he stood, the quiet intensity in his eyes rooting you in place. In one swift movement, he pulled you into his arms, his embrace firm and unyielding, as if holding you was the only thing keeping him from breaking apart.

The warmth of his touch seeped into your skin, chasing away the cold ache in your chest. His hands rose to your face, trembling slightly as they cupped your cheeks, thumbs brushing away the tears that fell freely now. His gaze locked onto yours—raw, unguarded, and so painfully human it stole the breath from your lungs.

“Sae…” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the thundering of your heart.

He said nothing. He didn’t have to. The honesty reflected in his teal eyes spoke louder than words ever could—a silent confession, a unspoken yet undeniable promise.

And then, with agonizing slowness, he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours.

This kiss was everything the first was not.

It wasn’t rushed or desperate, it was soft and sensible, filled with a quiet intensity that made your heart ache. He kissed you as if trying to tell you everything that he couldn't quite put into words. A deep apology for the agony and isolation you went through. 

You knew you should pull away, demand answers, cling to the anger that had simmered inside you. Instead, you let yourself fall deeper, surrendering to the emotions that you held back for far too long. Your hands found their way to his chest, then to the back of his neck, fingers trembling slightly as you kissed him back with equal intensity.

His touch was soft against you, one hand cradling the back of your head as the kiss deepened , the other resting lightly on your jaw. Each passing second melting into and the world around you dissolved into a hazy blur until all you could see, feel, and breathe was him.

You'd be lying if you said you haven't been with anyone else before, but it had never felt like this. A conflict between your rational mind and the rest of your body craving for his touch.

Slowly, you felt his hands move to cup your ass, gently squeezing the plush skin as you moaned against his mouth. He took this as an opportunity to slide his tongue into your eager mouth, gliding alongside his own like sweet honey.

His hands travelled lower, grabbing your thighs to lift you up and proceeded to carry you towards the bed, not daring to break that heated kiss.

The soft dip of the mattress against the small of your back sent a jolt of awareness through you, but you didn’t stop him, not when he was on the bed hovering over you, his lips trailing down, brushing lightly against your jawline, to the curve of your neck, nipping at the soft skin. 

The thin fabric of your white silk cover-up had been tossed away in one swift motion. Not that you had much clothing left underneath, you had the beach to thank for that, feather-thin yet still an insurmountable barrier separating you from him.

His fingers carefully pull down the strap of your bikini, slipping away inch by inch. 

But then he hesitates. 

His breathing hitched as he pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours, guilt flickering across his face. “Sorry,” he whispered, starting to shift away, his apology tumbling out in fragments, but you caught him before he could retreat any further.

“Don’t,” you whispered, your voice soft but firm, pulling him closer, your hands clinging to his button-down shirt as you brought him back to you. “It’s okay.’ 

It was the first time you saw them so closely—eyes the shade of teal sapphires, a treasure just as rare as the man who bore them. Guilt in his gaze was evident, but so was the yearning, emotions he couldn’t bring himself to voice. He hovered over you, his weight supported by his arms on either side of you, his expression conflicted.

You'd been the one who pulled him back, lips pressing against his, as he kissed back with a new intensity.

Sae’s fingertips gently went back to undressing you, this time he didn't falter, quickly pulling your straps down, your breasts bouncing as it came free from its confines. He gropes your breast, fingers pulling at your nipple, caring not to neglect the other and presses open mouthed kisses till he feels the hardened bud against his lips. 

You desperately cling to him, one hand tangled in his hair, pulling and tugging wildly at his reddish auburn locks. Your teeth sinking on your lower lip, a futile attempt to stifle the moans threatening to escape you right this second, but a needy whimper slips out as Sae sucks one pert nipple. 

Another hand slowly and steadily pushes the flimsy fabric of your panties to the side, exposing your glistening folds. tracing your slit with the pad of his thumb, and slides two fingers into your entrance and pushes it in. 

You’re tight, it was unreal. Clenching and throbbing against the fingers he gradually pumps inside you.

He takes your hand gently, lifting it to give a quick kiss to your knuckles and lowers his face to your inner thighs, lips pressing against it, leaving behind a trail of dark purple marks. A reminder of his unadulterated desire etched on your soft flesh.

You were utterly helpless against the wave of sensations as he held your throbbing core close, devouring your slick folds. Head tossing back, and breath hitching as the intimacy of the moment left you feeling exposed yet cherished in a way that stole the very air from your lungs.

The bed beneath shifted with every movement. messy—wet, hungry, and filled with a raw urgency that lust ignites.

He just couldn’t get enough of you.

Sae pulls away to peel his shirt off, you peer up at him through half-lidded eyes. His hair is messy, courtesy of all your pulling and grabbing, the only source of light in the room coming from the soft glow of the moon.

He wants to do you just like this, appreciating the work of art that you are, eyes lingering on your flushed face, breaths coming in shallow, panting gasps.

You start pawing at your own panties, impatiently trying to yank the piece of clothing down mewling, “Nngh. Sae, need more of you”, voice trembling with such fervor from the depth of your need.

Who was he to deny you?

“Shh baby, I got you.” He stills your squirming, quickly discarding your underwear and his, throwing them aside, as if nothing more than an afterthought. 

He lets you rub his leaking cock with your soft palm. He's holding back subtle groans when he feels you stroke up and down the length of him. You felt him nudge your legs apart, aligning his cock with your entrance, pressing his forehead against yours, waiting for a nod, or a squeeze of his hand— anything that would tell him that he could move. 

The only response you could give was an impatient roll of your hips to meet his.

Your approval was all he needed to slowly ease into your dripping cunt.

"Don't ever say I don't care about you," he whispers softly between your ragged moans, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "Because every second in this fucked up world," he murmurs, brushing his lips over your cheek, "my thoughts are plagued." His kiss lingers on your neck, his voice a tender, loving murmur as he gently nibbles your ear. "by you.” and fully sheaths himself into your tight heat.

You’re tossing your head back from the sting of the stretch. But he was quick to whisper sweet nothings in your ear and kiss you stupid to catch your soft gasp.

His words, sweet as lullaby, a stark contrast to the rough way your walls are stretching to accommodate the length of him. You were utterly speechless by his bold expression.

This same man that never spoke so much more than blunt statements, now telling you just how much you really mean to him.

Wrapping your legs around his waist, you were desperately craving for him to be closer, as if he wasn’t already knocking on the gates of your cervix.

Your silent pleas didn’t come unnoticed, enticing him to lock one arm around your upper back, holding your thighs open as he began to rock into you. At this point he had his face buried on the crook of your neck, pushing his cock deeper and deeper into you, lost in the sweet euphoria of your tight, soaking core.

Your arms flew across his back, nails pressing into the firm muscle beneath your fingers. The look on your face made the corners of his mouth turn up. A rare smile that reached his eyes. You knew you looked just as intoxicated on this wave of pleasure as he did.

It felt perfect, heart pounding with so much adoration for the man you’re connected to at this very moment, making up for all the lost time.

“I missed you.” Sae whispers, each word laced with unguarded intensity that sends shivers down your spine. His voice is low, almost trembling, as if confessing a secret too precious to be spoken out loud. 

“You idiot,” you replied, a shaky laugh escaping through the tears streaming down your face. Your voice wavered, caught between the weight of your emotions and the flicker of relief his words brought, the ache in your chest softening ever so slightly.

You feel yourself nearing your climax, a cracked moan broke from your throat, skin tingling with electricity as your body succumbed to pure ecstasy. He felt your cum all over his length as he chased after his own release. With one final thrust, as your velvety walls clench around him, and teeth grazing his shoulder. Emptying himself completely inside you. A warm sensation flooding your insides.

You felt him gently pull out, the warm fluid slowly seeping out your used hole. 

You gently wiped the sweat from his forehead with the palm of your hand, a light chuckle escaping his lips as he leaned down to kiss you softly, before collapsing beside you, his breath steadying as he nestled you closer.

───🃁🃜🃚🃖🂭🂺🃁───

Sae never falls asleep before you, not even during those nights when you stayed in his room.

He always waited for you to drift off first.

But this time was different.

As you glanced over at him, you saw the lines of tension that usually creased his face had smoothed out. His features, typically stoic and guarded, now seemed calm—peaceful even.

It was a serenity you hadn’t seen before, as though the burden he always carried had, for a fleeting moment, been lifted.

The soft moonlight seeped through the curtains, casting a gentle glow over his face and highlighting the faint rise and fall of his chest.

“I love you,” you whispered, the words slipping effortlessly from your lips, barely more than a breath in the stillness of the room. You knew he couldn’t hear you, he was fast asleep. 

You lay nuzzled against him, head resting on his arm wrapped securely around you. Your fingers grazed absentmindedly over his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your touch.

It was a moment you didn’t want to end, your own weariness slowly pulling you under as his warmth enveloped you.

Despite the intensity of the love you had confessed to him earlier that night, he hadn’t offered you an explanation. No words, just this. But this was enough. For now.

A/N: If you've made it to this point, all I wanna say is; Thank You so much for taking the time to read this story <3

This is the most shocking fic I’ve ever written! Honestly so surprised by the outcome and the amount of time, I poured into it (was even more than my college essays). Though I barely had the time to edit it :<

17k words wow, I had so many instances in which I felt like I just wanted to drop this fic all together because it wasn’t connecting the way that I wanted it to, but every time I read the drafts, there’s this feeling like a silent sense of accomplishment waiting if I do finish it, and I’m glad I pushed through, because I’m proud of the result.

This was actually a challenge from a friend—play with the tropes of forced proximity (but not really) and friends to lovers with Itoshi Sae. I thought it was such an outrageous request, but then an idea struck when I was rewatching Alice in Borderland and binging Blue Lock. Out of nowhere, I thought: What if Sae were in this setting?

I hope I did justice to blending tropes, but either way, I really hope you all enjoyed reading it!

It was intentional on my part to leave readers feeling confused in this part—after all, if you were in that kind of situation and environment, and he treated you this way, you’d be confused too. 

Should I write Part 2? If I do decide to write a second part it will start from Sae’s POV to explain his side of the story.

───🃁🃜🃚🃖🂭🂺🃁───

if you enjoyed my work please consider donating on ko-fi ^^

PART 2

[starconchs]

𝐁𝐄𝐓 𝐎𝐍 𝐈𝐓! — gojo satoru

pairing: gojo x gn!reader summary: little snippets showing how gojo satoru has always been a pain in your ass genre: fluff and angst #lol #soz word count: ~3k notes: sorry. spoilers for shibuya arc and onwards, mentions of jjk 236. also this is the only thing i've written in months so i'm kinda rusty

Gojo Satoru is a pain in the ass.

More specifically, he's a pain in your ass, especially once he discovered that you're so much easier to rile up than Utahime.

It starts in high school, with meaningless bets made between the two of you that all result in endless lectures and reprimands from your respective school principals. But it's hard for you to stop agreeing to these deals when Gojo offers you a week without his presence if you manage to win.

Victories for you have become more common in recent years, with you learning how to words your agreements in a sly way that makes Gojo huff out a little laugh whenever you manage to outwit him. But your losses far outweigh your triumphs and you constantly find yourself dragged onto missions or out to new restaurants whenever Gojo wins. Which happens to be pretty often.

"I bet that the first years can beat you in a fight," Gojo says, snickering when you shoot him a nasty look. He takes a step closer to you, pouting when you distance yourself from him and speed up.

"I bet you that they can't," you retort, unable to stop yourself from disputing his statement. You don't turn to look at him, merely grumbling under your breath when he easily matches your stride.

You have no idea how you've ended up here, transferred (against your will you might add!) to Tokyo Jujutsu High to teach alongside the only man who has ever made you feel feral. And not in a good way.

The very reason for your arrival is none other than Okkotsu Yuuta, an overpowered, meek-looking teen with a cursed technique that seems to be a little more trouble than you originally thought. That's the only thing going through your mind when you're introduced to him, leaving you inattentive to the way Gojo slings an arm over your shoulders and introduces you as his significant other to the first years.

You're only brought back to the present when Panda— yes, an actual panda— congratulates you loudly, causing you to scowl and push Gojo far, far, away from you. You're the only one who doesn't notice how you actually make brief physical contact with him.

"I am not dating him. I'm your new instructor," you say sharply, introducing yourself before turning and walking out the door. The first years all share a glance before following, Zenin Maki leading the small group as she eyes you with interest. You come to a stop in the middle of the training field before flashing them a grin that can only be described as dangerous. "Now, we're going to see how much combat experience you have, so give me all you've got."

You then proceed to take on all four of the first years, all too aware of the way Gojo's stare never leaves your figure. At the end of the day, you're the proud winner of a Gojo-free week.

Your first year teaching at Tokyo Jujutsu Tech is a tumultuous one.

You learn to treasure your friends a little more, and you find yourself thinking that you've become a pro when it comes to grieving.

(You remember Geto's defeated form as you arrived just in time to see the last smile he ever gave Gojo right before he took his last breath—)

The stress of everything even has you appreciating Gojo's presence in your life a little more, and when you tell Shoko this development, she merely snorts and pulls out a cigarette. You chide her for failing to break her habit even after she's promised you multiple times, only falling silent when you realize just how tired she looks.

You've become a pro at grieving, but that doesn't mean everyone else has, so you silently slide the cigarette packet back towards her and leave her to mourn in a way that seems to work for her.

The months that follow feel like a blur, and you get sent on plenty of missions to fill time. Your bets with Gojo seem to occur more often, and you find that you don't necessarily dislike hanging out with him whenever he wins. You wonder if the previous year has helped him mellow out, and you find yourself thinking a friendship with Gojo is possible. Especially after everything the two of you have dealt with.

Your appreciation for Gojo ends up fizzling out when you learn from Maki that he's been telling the new first year, Fushiguro Megumi, the same lies he tried telling the second years when you first arrive. It isn't long before you find out that Megumi is incredibly perceptive, and he doesn't fall victim to Gojo's lies about your nonexistent relationship.

Unfortunately, the two other first years aren't necessarily as... insightful as Megumi is, and all it takes is for them to see the way Gojo smiles when he's around you to believe that the two of you are meant to be.

Itadori Yuuji is a young boy that you think is a little wise beyond his years. When you hear about how he ate— yes, consumed— Sukuna's finger, you change your mind. He's seen a lot in the past few days, and it almost amuses you to see just how upbeat but jaded he seems. Seeing him interact with Megumi reminds you of sweeter times, back when you were their age and spent your afternoons sharing snacks and chatting with Utahime, and you feel an awful heaviness weighing down your heart when you realize just how small they seem.

You're tending to Megumi's wounds when you meet Yuuji for the first time, and you can't help but roll your eyes when you hear Gojo call out your name.

"This is my partner," he whispers loudly to Yuuji, lips turned up in a fond smile as you give Megumi the all clear. There's a mildly irritated huff that escapes you as you turn to greet the newest first year, but you can't help the way your lips twitch when Gojo tries to pinch your cheek and you swat his hand away. Megumi's suspicious eyebrow raise goes unnoticed by you as Yuuji bows in greeting, an easy smile on his face as he looks between you and Gojo.

"The two of you make a nice couple," he comments before his gaze drifts over to Megumi. You open your mouth to dispute Yuuji's statement but he makes his way over to Megumi before you have the chance to actually speak. "Woah! Fushiguro, what happened to you?"

The two boys walk into Megumi's bedroom, softly conversing as Yuuji pokes at the bandage on his cheek. You watch them fondly, sighing softly before turning around to leave.

"I bet I can also convince the third first year that we're dating," Gojo sings as he walks beside you, causing you to flinch away from him.

"I bet you can't," you respond automatically, feeling your stomach drop when he shoots you a cocky grin. He doesn't say anything before splitting off down another hall, shouting a quick goodbye to the two boys who are still wrapped up in conversation. You hope that Kugisaki Nobara is smarter than Yuuji.

Kugisaki Nobara is not smarter than Yuuji.

You have hope for the first five minutes you interact with her, fighting a smirk when you notice her immediate disdain towards Gojo. There's a judgmental look on her face as he introduces himself, and you can't help but straighten up when her gaze lands on you and her eyes sparkle with curiosity.

"It's very nice to meet you," you say softly, introducing yourself and giving her a soft smile. She smiles back at you, her expression becoming strained when Gojo pulls you into his side.

"We're dating!" he proclaims proudly, earning a quiet groan from you. Nobara looks between the two of you skeptically, and you feel confident that she's going to call out his lie until she turns to look at her fellow first years.

There's a bored look on Megumi's face, but Yuuji is nodding his head enthusiastically, his eyes shining as he glances at you and Gojo. You shake your head in response, and Megumi's lips twitch in amusement at your contrasting demeanors. Your embarrassed state is apparently proof enough for Nobara, and she gives you a sympathetic look as she turns to face you once more.

"You're so brave," she whispers to you, wiping a fake tear from her eye before turning to Gojo. "And you're punching above your weight."

She promptly turns around and walks off before he can respond, leaving you fighting back a giggle as Megumi and Yuuji follow her. Gojo wilts at her words momentarily before turning to give you a dazzling smile, lifting his blindfold just enough for you to see him wink at you.

"I win!" he declares, laughing when he notices the way your eyebrows furrow in frustration. He turns to follow after Nobara, casually reaching for your hand and intertwining his fingers with yours before pulling you along. "Come on! We can't stand here all day, we might lose the kids."

He smiles when you don't really make a move to pull your hand away from his and makes a mental note to take you to your favorite restaurant this time.

"I bet I can take out more curses than you."

Your statement is quiet, a familiar phrase meant to try and calm your nerves. You're met with a bored glance from Nanami, and you huff when he crosses his arms and shakes his head.

The atmosphere in Shibuya is unsettling, and even though you have complete faith in your abilities as a sorcerer, you can't help but feel a chill run down your spine when you think about what's to come.

"You should be making that bet with your boyfriend. Not me," Nanami says in response. You scowl at him in return, rolling your eyes when you catch sight of the amused smirk on his face.

"He is not my boyfriend," you mutter petulantly, all too aware of the way your statement lacks its usual bite. There's a quiet hum from Nanami before silence engulfs the two of you, and then—

"Are you sure about that?"

"Nanami!" you snap, feeling your cheeks warm as you turn to shove him. He barely moves, and you half-heartedly let out a string of curses as he chuckles. The tension you previously felt is broken momentarily, and you feel a brief moment of happiness as you joke with your friend. "Yes, I'm sure."

"I'm just saying," he continues, his tone even as he does his best to not give anything away. "Yuuji seems to think that the two of you are perfect for each other. I've heard quite a lot about how sweet he thinks the two of you are together."

"I can't believe Yuuji believed him," you mutter, shaking your head. There's a part of you that can't help but wonder what exactly it is that Yuuji sees that makes him think you and Gojo are a bona fide couple, but you tell yourself that now is not the time to dwell on that.

"Well, those younger than us tend to be more perceptive sometimes," Nanami says, unintentionally answering your internal question.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing."

There's another moment of silence between the two of you before Nanami calls your name, bringing your attention to him once more.

"I'll accept your bet, but when I win, you have to take Gojo out to dinner."

"When you win?" you ask mockingly, raising an eyebrow as you stare him down.

"Yes, when I win," he says, doubling down on his statement. "You need to take Gojo out. As in a date. Who knows? Maybe you'll finally understand Yuuji's point of view when it comes to you two."

"Deal," you say, eyes narrowing when he holds out his hand for you to shake.

That's the last time you ever have contact with Nanami, and later on in the night when you find his body, you can't help but wonder which one of you had actually won your silly bet.

But as you discovered a year ago, you're a pro at dealing with grief, so you give yourself fifteen minutes to collect yourself before setting out to find your students.

After all, you now have to figure out a way to get Gojo free from the prison realm and maybe even honor your bet with Nanami regardless of who won.

The relief you feel when you see Kurusu Hana unseal the prison realm is overwhelming.

When you get told by Shoko that she's giving Gojo a checkup, you act before you can stop yourself, bursting into the infirmary and throwing yourself into Gojo's arms. You let out a stuttered breath when he catches you effortlessly, one hand coming up to cradle the back of your head as you hide your face in his neck, and when he laughs you can feel your throat tighten up as you try to hold back your tears.

"Missed me?" he asks, cocky tone still present in his voice. His actions present a stark difference to his tone, and you can't help but think to yourself that he's holding you so tightly because he's scared of being separated from you once more.

So much, you think to yourself. But you're as stubborn ever and so you resolutely shake your head, drawing another laugh out from him as turns his face to press a fleeting kiss to the crown of your head.

"I did," he murmurs, voice soft as he pulls you even closer. "Miss you, that is."

There's a moment of silence as Shoko pulls Ijichi away, attempting to give the two of you some privacy as she gathers up the necessary tools. There's a mischievous glint in her eye when Gojo gives her an appreciative nod, but she refrains from teasing either one of you for the time being.

You make a move to pull away from the hug, a soft gasp leaving your lips when Gojo's arms tighten around you and pull you flush against him. You fight against his hold, pulling back just enough to see the pout on his lips. A breathy laugh escapes you, and your hands come up to cradle his face as you take the moment to process the fact that he's finally back. There's a softness in his blue eyes that makes you choke up once more, and you impulsively pull his face towards yours and press a kiss to his forehead.

He freezes beneath your touch, eyes fluttering closed as his breath hitches. His arms loosen in shock and you take the opportunity to slip out of his hold, cheeks burning when you turn and see Shoko and Ijichi watching the two of you with matching smiles on their faces. Gojo's hand darts out to grab your wrist before you can get too far, and he gently pulls you to his side, resting his head on your shoulder as Shoko proceeds with her checkup.

The days leading up to December 24 are eerily calm, and you make sure to take time for yourself in order to properly grieve Nanami and pray for Megumi and check up on Nobara's condition. Gojo joins you most of the time, silent but always within reach, with his hand holding yours or resting comfortably along your back.

"You know," you randomly say, walking alongside Gojo on your way to meet up with everyone else. There's a pit in your stomach as you glance at him, the knowledge of his upcoming fight weighing heavy on your mind. "I actually made a bet with Nanami before he..."

"I thought that was our thing," Gojo muses. His eyes linger on you before he turns back to face the road in front of you, tucking his hands into his pocket with an air of nonchalance.

"Nanami said something along those lines too," you say, laughing softly at the memory. "He still agreed to it, but he said that if he won I'd have to take you out on a date."

"Oh?"

Your words have piqued Gojo's interest, and he comes to a stop at the top of a staircase. You can see Yuuji's tuft of pink hair in the distance, and you drag your eyes back to your companion as you come to a stop as well.

"Too bad we never found out who won," you say flatly.

"Oh," Gojo repeats, his dull tone matching yours. You turn to face the staircase once more, trying to ignore the way Gojo's stare burns into you. You don't think you'll ever get used to those eyes of him.

"How about we make a bet?" you say lightly. There's a twinkle in your eye that sends a thrill down Gojo's spine, and he smiles before motioning for you to continue. "I bet that you can't beat Sukuna. If I win, you leave me alone for longer than a week, even though I know that'll be hard for you. If you win, I'll take you out on a date."

"Sounds like an easy win to me," he comments, laughing when you toss him a sly grin over your shoulder. "Betting against the strongest? I think you're guaranteed to lose."

"Perhaps, but I can't imagine I'll be all too upset about it," is all you say, shrugging your shoulders before descending down the stairs. Gojo smiles dazedly for a couple more seconds before following after you, effortlessly scooping your hand and entangling your fingers the same way he did when the two of you met Nobara for the first time.

The two of you are greeted with grins from all the students, the sight of your linked hands a welcome reprieve from everything bad that's happened so far. You hold on tight to Gojo until the very last minute, now all too aware of how awful it is to truly have him missing from your everyday life. You are unaware of what's to come.

You thought you were a pro when it came to grieving, but winning the last bet you ever made with Gojo has proved you wrong.

ty for reading. rbs appreciated <3

[ponderingmoonlight]

Haruta seeking revenge on Nanami's heavy pregnant wife

Pairing: husband!Nanami x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,1k

Synopsis: When Haruta hears about Nanami's wife, he is more than delighted to search and kill her. He didn't think about (y/n)'s very own abilities and her furious husband though.

Warnings: injury, language, pregnancy, really angry hot Nanami, not 100% proofread as I have to get going now and won't be able to publish this today otherwise

Tags: @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @dazaisdick @sanicsmut @arehzhera @mynahx3 @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @wifenanami @arehzhera @mysuperrainbow @nanami-s-sunshine @nervoussongcherryblossom

You.

His heart almost beats out of his chest just thinking about the things these creatures are able to do. You live here, at Shibuya. When Nanami received the call about what is going on here, he instructed you to stay home with all doors closed. After all, you are heavy pregnant with his child. Despite being a great jujutsu sorcerer, you shouldn’t be on the streets right now. No harm should ever come to you.

But right now, you aren’t replying to any messages your husband sends you, not a single sign of life.

He yanks the blonde-haired man up by his ponytails, on the brick of losing his temper completely. Not only did this thing kill countless of his comrades on its way, but maybe him and his comrades did something to you. Why would you not reply to his countless messages? If they hurt a single hair on your precious body…

Nanami slams him into a nearby building with full force. Despite the abilities of that man, he won’t be able to survive that.

“Did you receive any sign from (y/n)?”, Nanami questions towards the two girls, kneeling in front of Nitta to inspect her wounds.

They might look bad, but she’ll survive if she sees Shoko within the next hours.

“No. No sign at all”, Nitta mumbles.

Everyone knows about the value you hold for Kento Nanami. No wonder, after all you are his precious wife, the only human being on this earth who is able to make his features soften and steal a smile from him. Yes, you are truly special to him. And the fact that you are not replying…Nobara swallows, the look on his face sending shivers down her spine. You should have been evacuated, out of Shibuya, maybe staying at Jujutsu High as long as the fight goes on. But it was already too late, it would be way too dangerous to leave now.

“What is going on?”, he mutters to himself.

“I’m sure your wife is fine. She’s tough, someone like that loser wouldn’t be able to bring her down.”

His eyes dart towards Nobara. Yes, she’s right. You have to home. Maybe you just fell asleep. The pregnancy made you tired all the time. Probably you’re laying on the couch, the chaos around you completely unnoticed. Yes, that’s how it must be.

“I am sure he wasn’t alone. Maybe someone found one of his accomplices. It’s best we bring them down before they cause more trouble. ”

Nanami strictly forbid you to go out on the streets. And that’s what you do, laying on the couch with the blanket your precious husband wrapped you in pulled up to the nose. You just woke up from a heavy sleep, lifting yourself up just a bit to look out of the window.

“What is going on down there?” you mutter to yourself.

Please, let Kento be alright. He promised to return to you, that nothing major will happen. Oh, how much you wished you could help. Your hands caress your swollen belly softly. Fighting is no option at the moment, though. All you can do is say here in safety until they successfully exorcised all courses around Shibuya. You sign to yourself, lids already hanging so low that you are on the brick of passing out again. After this nap, you’ll definitely call him.

“Still no sign…”, Nanami mumbles, the only response being your angelic voice which directs him to your mailbox.

“Maybe she’s just sleeping, after all (y/n) is pregnant, right? Would you like to call someone to look after her? Your shared apartment is only two blocks away, right?”, Nitta suggests.

“I can look after her!” Nobara interjects immediately.

“No, that wouldn’t be wise. We still have to look after the other assistance directors. There’s no way he worked alone. When the area is safe, I will go and look after her myself”, Nanami responses before putting his phone back.

You always sleep around this time. Surely everything is alright. After all, no one knows where he lives…right?

Haruta smiles to himself, body not moving an inch before the steps of his three opponents are gone.

“Your pregnant wife, huh? So killing her counts as a double kill, how exciting!”

-at your apartment-

Your eyes snap open immediately. The energy around you completely changed. What you feel here…Your whole body is tense, hands clenched into fists. That’s cursed energy, without any doubt.

As fast as possible you lift yourself off the couch, grabbing your throwing knives placed underneath the couch. When Kento got the call, you knew this has to be something big, that you might not be safe at Shibuya anymore.

“I know how much I’m asking from you, but please stay here and lock the door. At this point it would be even more dangerous to leave. Promise that you’ll be careful, sweetheart.”

Your husband wrapped his arms tightly around you, careful not to squeeze your sensitive belly in the process.

“I know my limits, Kento. I would never risk the life of our child for a fight. As much as I’d love to help you out, I will stay here until you tell me it’s over”, you assured him, placing a gentle kiss on his lips before he left your apartment with one last loving look back.

Kento. You should give him a call, at least message him about what you feel. As fast as possible you type his number, eyes darted towards the entrance. There isn’t much time left, whatever is on its way here will soon arrive.

“(y/n), I was dead worried about you. Are you alright?”

“Someone’s here. Someone with heavy cursed energy, Kento. I will do what I can, but-“

“Did you really think a locked door would be enough to keep your enemies out of here? Oh, look at you, congrats for putting a baby inside you! That was that blonde-haired man, wasn’t it? Y’know, I’m here because of him, so better be thankful. Come on, don’t look at me like that, let me give you a hug.”

Instinctively, you let your phone fall to the ground, your throwing knives leaving your fingertips at horrendous speed. As fast as possible you seek shelter behind your couch, escaping his blade just in time before he’s able to pierce through your shoulder.

Normally, you would have been able to dodge his attack easily, but with that heavy belly of yours, every sudden movement feels like a burden. You depend on your husband’s help, that’s for sure. The man with the blonde ponytail and ruptured face might not be an impossible strong opponent, but you are restricted. And one single hit might not only mean that he hurts you, but also your unborn baby…

You furrow your brows, eyes busy analysing his moves.

“You know who’s responsible for how wrecked up my face looks? Your husband! He even pulled my hair”, the man in front of you cries out, sword just about to hit you when you escape his force just in time.

“I get it, you have a really kickable face after all”, you press out, grabbing your katana under the kitchen table to dodge his attack.

You huff heavily, lungs feeling as if they’ll burst every minute while you taste blood on your tongue. Fuck, this is more strenuous than expected. Your baby kicks you uncomfortably in your guts, making you see stars for a second. A second in which he is able to place another hit, a second in which he is able to brush over your forehead with enough force to make your skin burst.

All you see is red, blood taking your sight almost completely. With a swift motion you try to wipe it away, try to get a hold of yourself. But before you are even able to breathe again, he forces his blade against yours.

“He’s already on his way, I would shit my pants if I was you”, you hiss through gritted teeth, jumping onto the table in order to have the higher ground.

You feel so damn tired. The heavy weight on your belly, the fact that you have to pee again and that you haven’t trained in ages. You aren’t dumb, you are very aware of the fact that you are fucked right now. But you know Kento heard you, that he is already on his way. You just have to fight back a little while longer…

“Oh, don’t worry about me”, he casually replies.

You stare at his empty hands, eyes wide open in horror. Where the hell did his sword go? Did he lose it while the both of you were fighting? No, you didn’t hit him so hard, this can’t be. But where-

A toe-curling scream escapes your lips when a scorching pain runs through your left thigh. You don’t dare to look don’t, this just has to be his blade.

“How?” you breathe out.

Calm your breathing, calm your pounding heart. You have to keep going, you have to-

Suddenly your shoulder bursts open, blood spilling over your husband’s shirt. You can’t breathe, whole body on fire. His sword, it’s still stuck in your shoulder. Just when it’s about to move out again, you grab the blade with your naked hands to stop it from piercing through you again, your sharp and fast breaths hanging in the air.

“Come on, why stop now when it’s getting funny? I was aiming for your fat belly next”, the guy in front of you complains with a pout.

Blood rushes through your ears, glossy eyes fixated on him in front of you.

“But fine, if you want it that way, I will use my own hands.”

Fuck, what are you supposed to do? If you let go of the sword that cuts through your palms, he will stab your unborn child. But if you lay here and do nothing, he will punch your belly with full force. You have to make a decision, you have to save your unborn child, the child you and Kento awaited for years now. The look on his face when he found out, the tears of joy that pooled his eyes…

You can’t die here. And so does your child.

With the last force you have left in your body, you kick his chest while still holding onto his sword tightly. Fuck, every movement hurts like hell, your blood spilled on the carpet you bought a few weeks ago. You can’t do this any longer, you need to get out of here, you-

“You have some nerves.”

His sheer presence is enough to make the man in front of you stop in his tracks.

“Kento…”, you mumble, wave of relief washing over you.

He’s here, your knight in shining armour, your loving husband. You did it. You held on just long enough.

“Didn’t you learn your lesson by now. Didn’t I teach you what you get for the things you do?”

His whole body is tense, the muscles underneath his shirt to tight that they might burst every minute. Kento grabs the neck of the man who attacked you earlier with full force, dragging him across the room.

“Give up and die already”, Kento hisses.

Tears start to pool this man’s eyes, staring at your husband with wide eyes while he throws him through the bursting window, down onto the streets of Shibuya, over 10 floors.

Without hesitation he hurries to your side, hand gently cupping your cheek. The threatful man from only seconds ago is gone in the wind. What is left is your loving husband who caresses your belly softly, lines of worry decorating his face while scanning over your bloody body.

“Don’t worry, this is nothing Shoko can’t fix. The…the baby is fine…”, you huff out.

“I’m so sorry sweetheart. I thought he was dead already, never did I imagine that…”

“Don’t think about it too much, Kento. This is in no way your fault. The most important thing is that the baby is fine. That’s all that matters.”

“But you matter too, (y/n). You are the love of my life. When you called me and I heard his voice, a part of me died. That he was able to injure you, that he put his hands on your delicate skin…I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I love you so much…”

Carefully, he wraps his arms around you and lifts your trembling figure off the ground.

“I love you too. But you have to admit I did pretty well”, you mutter against his chest.

“You definitely did. You are my wife, after all”, Kento replies with a small smile, carrying you to Shoko.

[skyahri]

Remember Part One |SatoSugu X Reader| HC

Part Two Masterlist Ko-fi

Summary: You get a second chance to save him, but for right now you can only enjoy the fact that he's still here.

Warnings: Implied poly??? Idk I don't say anything specific. Vomiting, blood, Canon related warnings. Angst bc im sad.

- - - - -

Your eyes flew open. You could barely breathe, your lungs still stinging from the char of imaginary burns. You desperately drag your hands across your face and body, searching for something, anything wrong, not quite processing what was going on.

You sprung up from your bed, immediately thanking your muscle memory as it guided you through your dorm room. You shoved your way into the bathroom and just barely made it to the toilet before emptying the contents of your stomach.

Tears pricked your eyes. You had no idea what was going on. You could only assume that you had another prophetic dream, but had no idea when it had started. Had it been days or weeks? Hell, had it been months even??

You remember the pain of being burned alive by Jogo in Shibuya Station. You remember dying, the feeling of your lungs giving out and your heart stopping.

Yet here you were, alive and relatively well back in your dorm room God knows when. The unchanging state of Jujutsu High was not helping you determine just how much time had passed.

What did, however, was Suguro Geto standing in the doorway. He was saying something you couldn't hear and your foggy mind couldn't process the lack of stitches on his head, but that didn't stop you from screaming.

Was this your Suguru? The boy who held doors open for you and dragged Satoru away after one too many flirty remarks. Could this man already be leading the Star Religious group? Or worse, be reduced to a corpse in his Kenjaku era?

There's no way you could possibly tell in such a hazy state of mind. Your gift had drained you to zero, leaving you absolutely defenseless against what could very well be a tyrant.

Lucky for you, you're within ear shot of a handful of other sorcerers who woke up the second they heard a scream. They were filing into your room within the minute, confused at the commotion, or lack there of.

Satoru had pushed his way past Suguru and bent down next to you, grabbing your hair in a makeshift ponytail as you continued to retch.

He's leaning in next to your ear, whispering, begging for you to calm down enough to tell him what's going on. You can barely hear him over the sound of your uncontrollable crying, the sobbing and shaking caused by panic making everything a hundred times worse.

Satoru is motioning for someone to hand him a rag to clean your face, which Suguru does without hesitation. When he enters your peripheral vision, you can practically feel the hairs on your neck stand up. You push your way past Gojo, who had just barely managed to wipe your mouth, trying to climb behind him, pleading that he doesn't come anywhere near you.

You can't see the hurt look on Geto's face. He has no idea what's going on, all he knows is he's somehow causing whatever it is that's happening to occur.

You don't hear Gojo shoo everyone away, apologizing for waking them up in the middle of the night and assuring them that he has it handled.

He rests against the wall and twists you around so you can sit comfortably in his lap. He holds you tight against his chest, it's almost suffocating, but you can feel the pressure slowly melting the anxiety away.

The fog that once clouded your brain is retreating, allowing you to take in your environment more clearly. There's makeup and skin care products scattered on the counters. You can make out enough of your bedroom to see the dozens of Polaroids pinned to your walls.

You eyes finally focus on a more defining feature that better cements your whereabouts. Your nails are painted pink and Satoru's an icy blue, something you haven't seen since your teenage years before Geto defected. You remember finally convincing Satoru to match with you and Suguru, tempting him with an iconic color that you knew he couldn't turn down.

"What's today?"

"February 21st, 2006."

You hum in response.

"Were you dreamin' again?"

You don't answer. You're too focused on how much time has passed. Twelve years gone in an instant. That's nearly half your life, nearly all your memories, and they were all fake. But now you had the opportunity of a lifetime. An opportunity to save all the people you've lost and protect your future.

You're thankful for Satoru in this moment. He isn't always the most socially aware, often times he actually makes things ten times worse, but right now he was just what you needed.

You take in just how warm he is, how he's managed to keep his hands from touching you inappropriately for so long. He's wearing that stupid pair of Hello Kitty boxers that 'convienently came with a matching bra and panty' and 'would hate for them to go to waste.' You scolded him for getting the sizing correct, knowing he had to have gone snooping for answers.

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

"No."

You had good friends, ones that trusted you without a second thought. They know the deal. Things are going to happen and sometimes that requires interference or being intentionally kept in the dark to avoid them. It was both a blessing and a curse- being given the gift of future sight yet being forced to hold the weight of the world in your hands.

You stand up, forcing Gojo to release his tight grip on you. He expects you to get in bed, but instead, you walk right past the door of your room and right across the hall into Suguru's. You don't knock, opting to just head straight in and crawl across him to lay down.

Suguru is confused. An hour ago, you were completely terrified of him, and now here you are, staring at him like he was the most important person in your life.

You reach forward and trace your fingers across his face; his nose, his lips, and eventually his bare forehead. You run your fingers through his hair; disheveled but clean. You pick up his right hand and set it on your face to savor the heat of it. He doesn't hesitate to rub his thumb back and forth across your cheek reassuringly. What he's supposed to reassure you about, he doesn't know, but he can tell you need it.

"You're oddly affectionate tonight."

"I missed you."

"I saw you yesterday."

You shake your head. You want to respond, to tell him you've dreamt of this opportunity for over a decade, that you haven't seen him alive in a year, and sane in nearly twelve.

But all you can do is cry. You lace your fingers with the ones on your face and let him pull you closer. His chest is broad and he smells like cologne, just like how you remembered.

The last time you saw him, he was sickly pale and missing an arm, just moments away from death. He smelled like blood and didn't even have the energy to stand. This view of Geto was much more pleasant than anything you had seen recently.

He has no idea what's going on, but can see it's obviously a lot. He wonders what you could have seen, how long you could have possibly lived. He wonders if someone died, if he died.

He's not sure how long it goes on before you're passed out, your grip on him relaxing ever so slightly, but he doesn't dare let go.

Gojo makes his way into the room from his waiting place outside. He stuck around on the off chance things got out of hand and he needed to intervene.

"How's our girl doing?"

"I have no idea."

"That's unlike you."

Suguru isn't sure how to respond. The vibe in his room is definitely more relaxed, but it's far from peaceful. All he can do right now is anchor you down to earth and hope whatever it is you saw can be fixed.

Fortunately, Satoru is a brave man. He clumsily makes his way onto the other side of you and flops down. You don't even flinch at the roughness of his actions.

"What are you-"

"Sleeping here with you guys, duh."

"Can't you read the room?"

"Nope."

[phyrestartr]

PR Stunt (Only, Right?) | Sukuna/M!Reader | Teaser!

#NSFW in full, bottom!reader, top!sukuna, Sukuna owns a body shop, reader is a performer, kinda meet cute, ABO dynamics, mpreg, yes there are always babies involved because i love dad sukuna, surprise baby, sukuna is a dickhead (what else is new), teaser not edited lmao

Note: This is just going to be a one-shot since it's already pretty much completed, just need to finish off the tail end and then go back and edit. Wanted a break from writing the other stories for a bit, so I hope you'll enjoy the full story when it's out

tags: @better-imagination-9 @better-imagination-9

“Did you sleep with (L. Name) (F. Name)?” 

The question caught Sukuna off guard; normally, Uraume didn't inquire into his personal life in regards to who he had and hadn't slept with. They were a friend, yes, but moreover they were the bookkeeper and helped with securing clients and arranging meetings–celebrities and their managers were fucks that Sukuna didn't like negotiating with. Best to leave the yapping to someone with a cooler head.

“Where the hell did that come from?” Sukuna asked as he rolled out from under the newest commissioned vehicle. 

Uraume walked to him, iPad in hand, and turned it to him, stone cold. 

Sukuna sat up straighter and squinted at the screen, annoyed. You’d probably just made up some salacious rumour and spread it throughout your friend circles; or worse, you wanted revenge on him for something he probably definitely did. In that case, Sukuna could somewhat understand. But still–

(Name) putting on weight? What’s happening to the former bombshell babe of Japan?!

Pregnant with a baby boy?! The secret's out!

(Name) returns to the stage after giving birth to a baby boy–but who is the father?

(Name) driving a Ryoumen Sukuna rescue vehicle?! Could he be the deadbeat dad we've been looking for?

Sukuna sucked his teeth after skimming over the article titles presented to him. 

“...No proof.” 

“Ah. Then please explain this,” Uraume requested, still polite as ever, as they flicked to an additional few images the scumbag paparazzi had caught of you. 

One was the car mentioned. Sukuna remembered it like it was yesterday–the joy of restoring a Porsche 911 back into its former glory was unmatched. You happily paid for all the parts and too often swung by to see the progress being made on the old thing. Obviously, Sukuna was more than happy to oblige. 

The next was of you holding a little nugget of a baby against your chest as you walked down a street in Shibuya. Nothing too damning, nothing too inspirational. 

But the last one–

“The fuck?” Sukuna mumbled as he snatched the iPad from Uraume’s hands and zoomed in on the now-toddler sitting with you in that damn Porsche, grinning brightly beside his mum while you ruffled his hair. His very, very pink hair. 

Sukuna took a breath while he thought. He didn't have to think too hard, though, not when he still dreamed about you and the short-lived fling between the two of you. 

“A Porsche 911, huh?” Sukuna grinned as he looked over the beat up, rusted beater of a car. He could still see scraps of its former glory, of the beautiful thing she used to be. Heaven knows she would've become an irreparable hunk of junk if you hadn't bought it from a scrapyard. 

“Yep.” You beamed. “So you think you can make her pretty again?” 

“You kidding? I'd pay you to let me fix this thing, baby.” Sukuna caught sight of your security stepping forward, but you waved them off without a second thought. 

Sukuna smirked. “But it’s not gonna be cheap.” 

You nodded. “Well, do what you have to. I'll pay whatever you need, handsome.” 

“Yeah?” Sukuna asked, looking your neatly-manicured appearance up and down; you were dressed like you were meeting someone of great importance (and  you were, obviously), with your hair groomed perfectly, outfit fit for a premiere, skin flawless. 

“Mhm. And I tip well.” you looked him up and down in kind, grinning as you bit at the nub of your sunglasses.

“Done.” 

Every time you came to check on his progress, genuine excitement flooding in your motormouthed Words, you'd go home with him and fuck him silly. 

And now, you were the momma to his baby. Allegedly. 

“I–so what the fuck does this have to do with anything?” Sukuna ran a frustrated hand through his hair after Uraume took the tablet back. “Bitch isn't asking for anything, he's not asking me to be his public fucking baby daddy, not asking me to pay for nothing?” 

“No,” Uraume conceded, “But he and his PR managers have reached out concerning this.” 

The man groaned and stood. “Fucking hell. Can't stand fucking PR teams. Thw fuck did they want?” 

“They want to make a statement about Touma's father.” 

Sukuna froze.

“Touma's a good name for a boy, right?” 

You asked the question so suddenly, so out of nowhere in the quiet of the afterglow. The city lights sparkled and winked at you both through the towering windows keeping you safe from the outside world. In hindsight, Sukuna would wonder if the city was excited for him. For you. 

“What, for a mutt?” Sukuna drawled, puffing on a blunt while he played with your hair and drowned in the tingles left in the wake of fingers drawing circles on his bare chest. 

“For a kid,” you chastised With a laugh. “I like Touma. Or Touka for a girl. Ayato's nice, too. Maybe Kazue.” 

“You better not be pregnant.”

“I'm not, I'm not. I'm just getting baby fever, I guess.” You hummed and left a sweet kiss against his tan skin. “I guess being around a big, bad boy like you's got me feeling domestic.” 

Sukuna laughed, dazed and happy. “You wanna ruin this pretty lil’ body for a fucking kid? Be my guest. Just don't come looking for a booty call after you've ruined yourself like that.” 

“Oh, don't worry,” you cooed. “I won't.” 

Man. Man. 

“A statement.” 

“In other words–”

“I'm not the fucking father.” 

“This might be a good way to get Yorozu off your case,” Uraume suggested, and Sukuna perked up. 

“Right. She fuckin’ hates kids.” 

“So, if you were to have a son, and it's revealed you've been quietly trying to make things work behind the scenes with (Name), then hypothetically–”

“I'll take the runt.”