vleixieee

19, Eᑎᖴᑭ 2ᗯ3 @vleixieee on TikTok and IG!

[vleixieee]

List of my arts!

Jujutsu Kaisen

Suguru Geto

Satoru Gojo

Higuruma Hiromi (wip)

Sukuna Ryomen (wip)

Toji Fushiguro (wip)

Kirara Hoshi

Demon Slayer

Mitsuri Kanroji

Shinobu Kocho

HaruHime Tsugikuni

Kokushibo/Michikatsu

Uta Tsugikuni

My Artworks

haii

[siennayaps]

Heaven Forbid

Best friend Satoru has started dating but why does it bother you so much?

Part-2 | Masterlist

You spent the next few hours doing everything humanly possible to avoid thinking about Satoru. Unfortunately, every single thing seemed to lead back to him.

The worst part was that you felt like an absolute douchebag. Every time the ugly feeling in your chest resurfaced, every time you caught yourself wondering where he was, what he was doing, whether he was laughing or whether the date was going well, guilt immediately followed. Because what exactly gave you the right to feel this way? You had been on dates before. Plenty of them, actually. Some good, some terrible, some so painfully awkward that you had called Satoru the second you got home just to complain about them. Never once had he made you feel guilty for it. Never once had he questioned where you were going or who you were seeing. He would ask how it went, ask whether the guy was nice, whether you had fun, whether you planned on seeing him again, and then move on with his life.

There had always been an unspoken boundary between the two of you when it came to those things. Neither of you discussed details. Neither of you pried. It was respectful, comfortable, and had worked perfectly fine for years.

Which was exactly why this felt so unfair. Satoru was doing absolutely nothing wrong. You were the problem. So you tried distracting yourself.

You made dinner. You cleaned your kitchen. You folded laundry that had been sitting untouched for nearly a week.

When none of that worked, you eventually gave up and decided to watch Hail Mary, a movie you both had been looking forward to for months.

That lasted all of ten minutes. The film wasn’t even bad. In fact, from what little you managed to focus on, it was genuinely interesting. But every few scenes, some scientific explanation would pop up, and your immediate thought would be, if Satoru was here, he’d explain whatever’s happening on the screen to you in great detail.

You could practically hear him already. Some long-winded explanation about astrophysics that would start with a simple answer and somehow spiral into a forty-minute lecture that only he would find reasonable.

You paused the movie. Then resumed it. Then paused it again. Then rewind because you had completely missed what happened.

At one point you realized you had been staring at the same scene for nearly five minutes while thinking about absolutely nothing except the fact that you had originally wanted to watch it with him.

“Jesus Christ,” you muttered, dropping your head against the couch cushion. Everything was about Satoru. The movie. The silence. The evening. The fact that he wasn’t here. The fact that he was somewhere else. With someone else. Before your thoughts could continue spiraling, you grabbed your phone and called the first person who came to mind.

Shoko answered on the third ring.

“What?”

“Wow. So warm.”

“What do you want?”

“Can I come over?”

A brief pause. Then, “Sure.”

Twenty minutes later, you found yourself pulling on the nearest hoodie you could find, which unfortunately happened to belong to Satoru. You didn’t even realize it until it was already over your head. The familiar scent hit you almost immediately and for a second you considered changing into something else.

You didn’t. Mostly because that felt pathetic. Although, if you were being honest, pretty much everything about tonight felt pathetic.

You stared at yourself in the mirror while shoving your feet into your ugliest pair of Crocs and suddenly found yourself wondering how long it would take before you had to stop doing this. Stop stealing his hoodies. Stop treating his apartment like an extension of your own. Stop assuming there would always be room for you in every corner of his life.

Because if this date went well, eventually you’d meet her. That was how these things worked in relationships. She’d become his girlfriend. She’d meet your friends.

You’d smile. Shake her hand. Pretend your heart wasn’t actively trying to claw its way out of your chest. The thought alone made you feel sick.

By the time Shoko opened her apartment door, your mood had somehow worsened. She took one look at you and raised an eyebrow.

“Wow.”

“What?”

“You look really happy.”

You rolled your eyes and stepped inside.

“Yeah, I know.”

Shoko continued staring. “What, are you on your period?”

“Nah. I think it’s close, though.”

“Hm.” The apartment was surprisingly clean. Suspiciously clean for Shoko to be honest. You glanced around before looking at her.

“Your place looks surprisingly nice today. What miracle happened?”

Shoko immediately pointed toward the door. “Are you here to slander me?” Ignoring her entirely, you headed straight for the fridge.

“Where’s the Diet Coke?”

“Ran out.”

“Shamefull.”

You settled for water instead, filling a glass before dropping onto the couch. For a few moments neither of you spoke. Shoko watched. You avoided eye contact. Eventually she sighed.

“So.”

“So?”

“What are you here for?”

You scoffed. “I can’t just visit my friend?”

“Be so fr rn.”

You took a long sip of water. Shoko crossed her arms.

“Where’s your other half?”

You groaned immediately. “Can you stop calling him that?”

“I didn’t say his name.”

“You didn’t have to.”

“Okay then. Where is he?” For a moment, the room fell quiet. Then you looked down at your glass.

“Satoru’s on a date.”

The reaction was immediate. Shoko’s eyes widened. Then she let out a slow breath.

“Oh.”

“What?”

“Which is why you look like shit.” Your mouth dropped open.

“Are you serious?” She looked genuinely offended.

“Are you serious?”

“Shoko.”

“No. Seriously. Come on.” You looked away immediately. Because suddenly the floor seemed incredibly interesting. Shoko, unfortunately, wasn’t letting you escape.

“Can we drop the act already?”

“What act?”

“The one where you’re pretending you don’t know what’s wrong.” You frowned.

“I don’t know what you want me to say.” She stared directly into your eyes. And then, with absolutely no hesitation whatsoever, she said, “Go tell your best friend you’re in love with him.”

The words hit you so hard that for a second you genuinely forgot how to breathe.

“What?”

“Tell him.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because you’re in love with him.” You laughed. The sound came out strained. Almost desperate.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Baby, you’re wearing his hoodie while having an emotional breakdown because he’s on one date.”

“That is not what’s happening.”

“That is exactly what’s happening.” You buried your face in your hands.

“This is insane.” You stayed quiet. Because part of you hated how easily she said it. Like it was obvious. Like everyone knew except you.

“He is literally out on a date right now,” you finally muttered. “I’m not gonna ruin that.” Shoko stared at you. Then laughed.

“Oh wow.”

“What?”

“No, nothing.”

“Shoko, I don’t want to talk about him anymore.”

Silence settled between you. For a few moments, neither of you spoke. Then eventually you sighed. A tired, exhausted sound. “I don’t know what to do, it feels weird”.

Shoko’s expression softened slightly. “There’s nothing weird about this.”

“It feels weird.”

“Only because you’re emotionally constipated.”

You glared at her.

“What about him? He’s never said anything.” Your voice dropped quieter. More vulnerable. “What if this is just me?”

Shoko didn’t answer immediately. You continued.

“What if I tell him and he doesn’t feel the same for me? What if I ruin everything? What if I lose my best friend because I got confused and decided to say something stupid?”

The fears sounded ridiculous once spoken aloud. But somehow they felt even worse now. “What if I completely destroy the most important friendship I’ve ever had?”

Shoko sighed. “You think way too much.”

“Nevermind.”

“But I get it.”

You looked at her. And for once, she wasn’t teasing. “If you’re not ready, don’t tell him yet.”

You blinked. “Really?”

“Really.”

Then she shrugged. “Maybe wait. See how things go.” The answer should have comforted you. Instead it made your stomach feel twisted.

Because there was only one problem with waiting. “What if it goes well?” The words escaped before you could stop them.

“What if the date goes really well, Shoko?”

Neither of you spoke for a moment. Then suddenly your phone lit up. An Instagram notification. Your heart immediately lurched. Satoru had posted a story. You opened it before you could stop yourself. And immediately wished you hadn’t. It wasn’t anything over the top.

No pictures together. No faces. No romantic caption either. Just a photo from the restaurant.

Your staple restaurant. The place you and Satoru practically lived in. The place that knew your usual orders before you even sat down.

His food sat on the table. And across from him, partially visible in the corner of the frame, was a woman’s hand.

Elegant and pretty with short manicured nails. Long fingers wrapped around a drink. Nothing more.

Yet somehow it felt like a punch to the stomach. You stared at it. Far longer than you should have.

“He just posted?” Shoko asked. You silently handed her the phone. She glanced at it. Then looked back at you. “He’s literally just out.”

“Yeah.”

You swallowed. Suddenly feeling exhausted.

“Yeah. I know.”

You stood and looked back to see that Shoko was frowning. “You leaving already?”

“I think so.”

“You can stay here.”

For a moment, the offer sounded tempting. Then you shook your head.

“No.” Because as comforting as Shoko’s apartment was, all you really wanted was your own bed. Your own space. Your own thoughts. Even if those thoughts were currently ruining your life.

So twenty minutes later, you found yourself walking home through the cool night air, hands buried deep inside the sleeves of Satoru’s hoodie, completely aware that his apartment was only ten minutes away.

Eleven o’clock on Friday nights had always belonged to Satoru.

You realized that sometime around midnight when you were lying in bed staring at the ceiling, your phone resting face down on the mattress beside you. It wasn’t some official arrangement the two of you had made. Nobody had ever sat down and declared Friday nights sacred. It had simply happened over the years. Sometimes you ordered pizza. Sometimes it was takeout from that noodle place both of you loved. Sometimes one of you would show up at the other’s apartment carrying snacks and demanding a movie marathon. There had been entire Friday nights spent doing absolutely nothing except existing in the same room together, each occupied with your own thing while occasionally exchanging commentary about whatever ridiculous thought crossed your minds.

But tonight was different. Tonight, Satoru was on a date. And somehow that simple fact managed to make your apartment feel emptier than it actually was.

The thing that bothered you most was the silence.

Normally, if Satoru went anywhere interesting, your phone would be unusable within twenty minutes. He texted like he breathed. Constantly. Endlessly. You knew every minor inconvenience that happened during his day because he insisted on documenting all of them. He sent photos of food. Photos of random animals he encountered on the street. Photos of clouds that looked funny. There were entire conversations saved in your messages that consisted of nothing except him complaining about basketball practice or showing you memes at three in the morning.

Tonight there was nothing.

No texts.

No random texts, no complaints, no photos either. And that silence felt louder than anything else. Because if Satoru wasn’t texting you, then he was occupied.

And if he was occupied, then that probably meant the date was going well. The realization sat heavily in your chest. Of course it was going well. Satoru has always been a real charmer.

He was funny. Kind. Smart. Ridiculously attractive. Any girl would be lucky to have him. The thought alone made you want to punch a wall.

Eventually, exhausted by your own thoughts, you buried yourself beneath your blankets and forced yourself to sleep because surely there wasn’t a single problem in existence that couldn’t be made slightly more tolerable after a decent nap.

Unfortunately, when you woke up the next morning, the problem was still there. And there was still no text from Satoru.

You stared at your phone for a long moment while your coffee brewed.

Nothing.

No good morning. No update. No stupid meme. Complete silence. The rational part of your brain immediately came up with explanations.

Maybe he slept late. Maybe he was busy. Maybe he forgot. Maybe he woke up late in her bed... That last possibility made your stomach turn.

Because eventually, wasn’t this exactly what was supposed to happen? He was allowed to fall in love, find a partner.

It was normal.

Nobody wanted their boyfriend texting his female best friend twenty-four hours a day. Nobody wanted to compete with a friendship that had existed for years.

Eventually there would be boundaries. Eventually there would be distance. Eventually you would stop being the first person he texted every morning And perhaps the most painful part was realizing that nobody was actually doing anything wrong.

This wasn’t betrayal. This wasn’t abandonment. This was life. This was what growing up looked like. You just hated it.

The thought lingered with you while you made breakfast. Two fried eggs, coffee, your vitamins lined up beside the plate. You forced yourself to eat despite having little appetite. Then you got dressed.

Normally you didn’t care that much. University wasn’t a fashion show for you. Most days you grabbed the first thing available and called it a day. Today was different. Today, despite everything, some stubborn part of you wanted to look nice.

You hated that too. So you picked a top that complimented your figure, threw on a pair of baggy jeans, pulled your hair into a messy bun, slipped into your favorite shoes, and headed for campus.

The entire way there, you kept telling yourself not to think about him. The entire way there, you failed.

By the time you reached your locker, your eyes were already drifting every few seconds. Because usually he was there. Usually Satoru would walk with you before class.

Usually he would find some excuse to steal your coffee and still call it disgusting knowing that it would always be bitter. Usually there would be a conversation. Today there wasn’t any of it.

Maybe he did wake up late beside somebody else.

The thought hit so violently that you physically flinched. Immediately disgusted with yourself. Immediately shoving the image away. You put your AirPods in. Went to walk towards your class. Focused on your notes. Focused on literally anything except the constant ache sitting somewhere beneath your ribs.

It worked until lunch. Because the moment you stepped outside, there he was.

Satoru.

Standing exactly where he always stood. Like nothing had changed. Like the last twenty-four hours hadn’t completely wrecked your emotional stability.

Your stomach betrayed you instantly. He looked tired. Not exhausted. Just slightly off.

His hair was messier than usual. A pair of sunglasses rested on top of his head. He wore a white shirt beneath a grey sweater, loose blue jeans hanging comfortably from his frame.

And for some reason, today you noticed everything. Which felt incredibly unfair.

“Hey,” he said.

You hated how relieved you felt hearing his voice.

“Hey.”

“How are you?”

“Good.” A lie.

“What about you?”

Something shifted across his expression. Not quite a smile. Not quite anything else.

“Good. Pretty good.”

You nodded.

He nodded.

The conversation suddenly felt awkward in a way it never had before. “Wanna grab lunch?” he asked.

“Sure.”

And just like that, the two of you started walking. For a few moments neither of you spoke. Then, because apparently self-destruction was your favorite hobby, you asked the question anyway.

“So.”

Satoru glanced over.

“So?”

“How was the date?” The effect was immediate. A faint blush crept across his cheeks. His hand moved to the back of his neck.

And suddenly your heart sank straight into your stomach. Because that wasn’t the reaction of somebody who had a terrible time.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “It was good.”

Oh

“I’d say it went pretty well.” The smile you forced onto your face felt painful. “Oh. That’s awesome.” You could practically hear your heart breaking.

“Yeah.”

“What did you guys do?” He looked away briefly.

“We had dinner. Got ice cream after. Walked around for a bit and all you know…His smile softened. Then came the final blow.

“We’ll probably go out again.”

Here we go. .

Suddenly it wasn’t just one date. It wasn’t just a possibility. It was becoming something. Something real. Something permanent. Something that might eventually take your place.

“That’s amazing.” Your voice sounded strange when you heard it out loud.

“I’m happy for you, Satoru.” You weren’t sure if he believed you. You barely believed yourself. The silence stretched. And if you stayed any longer, you were going to cry.

Right there in the middle of campus. In front of him. So before your emotions could completely betray you, you adjusted your bag and forced another smile.

“Oh my God.”

“What?”

“I completely forgot. I have somewhere to be.”

Confusion immediately crossed his face.

“Right now?”

“Yeah.”

“Weren’t we getting lunch?”

“Rain check.” You took a step backward. Then another. Every instinct screaming at you to leave. To get away. To breathe. “See you later, okay?”

He looked like he wanted to say something. But you didn’t give him the chance. You turned. And walked away as fast as you possibly could. By the time you reached the next building, your vision was blurring.

You hated it all. You hated this. Hated yourself. You hated that some stupid date had reduced you to this pathetic version of yourself that was full of envy. Most of all, you hated how badly it hurt.

Because for the first time in your life, you genuinely felt like you were losing him. And over the next two days, you did everything possible to avoid him. You went to class. Went home. Ignored his texts & calls. Ignored every notification that carried his name.

You built a routine around avoiding Satoru Gojo. A devastating, miserable routine. Because every time you saw him, you felt like saying something you couldn’t take back. And every time you imagined him with her, something ugly twisted inside your chest.

Sometimes, in your worst moments, you found yourself hoping she would break his heart. The thought horrified you every single time.

Because you loved him. Maybe not in the way Shoko insisted. Maybe not in the way romance novels described. But enough that you should want him to be happy.

Instead, you found yourself staring at your unanswered messages one evening, guilt pooling heavily in your stomach, when suddenly your phone began ringing again.

Satoru.

For the twenty-third time.

You almost ignored it.

Almost.

Then another notification appeared. Not a call but a text. And for the first time in two days, you considered looking at what he had to say.

Toru: Stop avoiding me. We need to talk.

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[siennayaps]

Heaven Forbid

Best friend Satoru has started dating but why does it bother you so much?

Part-1 | Masterlist

The thing was, you never thought you would be one of those girls.

You had seen them online before. The female best friend who hated every girl her guy best friend talked to. The one who became possessive the second another woman entered the picture. The one who insisted she wasn’t jealous while actively making everybody miserable. You hated those stories. Hated those girls. Every time a video appeared on your feed talking about them, you always found yourself rolling your eyes because honestly, if your friendship was truly platonic, then why would another relationship threaten it? Why would it matter if your best friend started dating someone?

Which was exactly why your current predicament was driving you insane.

Because Satoru Gojo had been your best friend for nearly your entire life, and until recently, you had never questioned a single thing about it.

You had grown up together. There was no dramatic first meeting, no cute story, no significant moment where your lives collided and changed forever. It simply felt as though Satoru had always existed. He was there in your earliest memories, sitting beside you in classrooms, walking beside you after school, showing up at your house uninvited and immediately making himself comfortable. Somewhere along the way, your lives became so deeply intertwined that neither of you bothered separating them anymore. If somebody needed you, there was a good chance Satoru was nearby. If somebody needed Satoru, they usually called you first. It had been that way for years.

People questioned it all the time. Your friends questioned it. Your parents questioned it. Complete strangers questioned it.

The number of times somebody had mistaken the two of you for a couple had long since become impossible to count. Even now, whenever your friend group went out together, somebody inevitably made a joke about the two of you acting like an old married couple. Nanami was particularly ruthless about it. Shoko was worse because she looked genuinely convinced. Suguru simply enjoyed watching both of you get annoyed.

But you and Satoru always laughed it off. Because they didn’t get it.

They didn’t understand that once you knew somebody for that long, romance almost stopped being an option. Satoru wasn’t some mysterious attractive guy who sat across from you in class. He wasn’t somebody you could fantasize about because there was nothing left to fantasize about. You knew everything. You knew how grumpy he became when he was hungry. You knew he secretly cried at animal documentaries. You knew exactly how many cups of coffee it took before he became unbearably hyperactive. You knew every embarrassing story from his childhood and he knew every embarrassing story from yours.

He was just Satoru.

Your Satoru.

Your best friend.

And for the longest time, that explanation had been enough.

Maybe that was why you never felt particularly interested in dating. It wasn’t that you couldn’t. Men approached you often enough, and there had been a handful of relationships throughout the years. A few dates. A few kisses. A few brief situationships that inevitably fizzled out when you realized you would rather spend your Friday night watching movies with Satoru than entertaining somebody else’s attempts at flirting. Looking back, perhaps that should have told you something. The fact that every person you met eventually felt disappointing. The fact that they all seemed exhausting compared to the ease you felt around him. But you never thought too deeply about it because there was no reason to. Your friendship worked exactly as it was.

Until university. Until suddenly everybody else started noticing him too.

Not that Satoru had changed much. That was the irritating part. He was still the same awkward astrophysics nerd who spent twenty minutes explaining black holes whenever somebody made the mistake of asking a simple question. He still forgot where he left things. Still rambled when he got excited. Still looked genuinely confused whenever somebody flirted with him. Yet somewhere between eighteen and twenty, the rest of the world collectively realized that Satoru Gojo was devastatingly attractive.

You noticed it everywhere.

Girls found reasons to sit beside him during lectures. They stopped him after class. They interrupted your conversations. They laughed too hard at his jokes. They touched his arm when they spoke.

They found increasingly ridiculous excuses to spend time around him.

At first, it was funny. Then it became annoying. Then, somewhere along the way, it became something far uglier. Because every time another girl approached him, something unpleasant twisted inside your chest.

Not jealousy.

You refused to call it jealousy.

It couldn’t be jealousy.

Jealousy implied you wanted something. Jealousy implied you had feelings. And you didn’t. You were simply… irritated.

That was all.

Irritated because people constantly interrupted your time together. Irritated because they treated him like some prize to be won. Irritated because none of them actually knew him.

That explanation worked perfectly. At least until the afternoon Satoru casually informed you that he had a date.

The conversation started innocently enough. You were sitting beneath your usual tree after class, discussing weekend plans the way you always did. You had been talking about the new Marvel movie and suggesting that the two of you book tickets before they sold out when Satoru suddenly looked almost guilty. It was such an unusual expression on him that it immediately caught your attention.

“What?” you asked, narrowing your eyes.

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Nothing.”

“Satoru.”

A sheepish grin appeared.

And somehow, before he even spoke, dread settled into your stomach. “Oh,” he said. “I’m actually busy tonight.”

The words shouldn’t have mattered. People got busy. People had plans. Satoru was allowed to have a life outside of you. So why did your chest feel strangely hollow?

“Oh?” you replied lightly. “Doing what?”

His grin widened. And then he said it.

“I have a date.”

For one horrifying second, your mind went completely blank.

The words themselves were harmless. Ordinary. The kind of thing people said every day. People went on dates all the time. Your friends went on dates. Strangers went on dates. Satoru, being a twenty-year-old university student who happened to look like he had been sculpted by a particularly generous deity, should have been going on dates far more often than he actually did. There was nothing strange about it.

And yet somehow, the moment the words left his mouth, it felt as though the entire conversation shifted beneath your feet.

You stared at him.

He stared back.

Still smiling.

Still completely unaware that something inside you had just cracked. “Oh,” you said finally.

It sounded wrong. Even to your own ears. Satoru’s smile faltered slightly.

“Yeah.”

“That’s… good.”

The silence that followed felt awkward. Nothing had changed. Nothing should have changed. You had known this would happen eventually. Satoru wasn’t going to stay single forever.

He wasn’t going to spend every weekend with you forever. People grew up. People fell in love. People got married and all that shit.

Life goes on.

So why did it suddenly feel like somebody was trying to pull something away from you? “Who is she?” you asked.

The question came out too quickly. Too eagerly. Satoru blinked.

“Huh?”

“The girl.”

“Oh.”

He laughed.

“I met her a little while ago.”

“A little while ago?”

“Yeah.”

Your felt sick. “A little while ago” could mean anything.

A week.

A month.

Long enough for conversations. Long enough for feelings. Long enough for him to decide she was worth taking on a date. And apparently long enough for him not to tell you. The realization struck harder than it should have.

Because that was stupid. Satoru wasn’t required to report every detail of his life to you. You weren’t entitled to that.

Still.

A strange bitterness settled at the back of your throat. “You didn’t tell me.” Satoru looked confused. “I didn’t think it was a big deal.”

Not a big deal.

The words lodged themselves somewhere painfully deep. Not a big deal. For years, you had been the first person he told everything to.

Every stupid achievement. Every embarrassing failure. Every ridiculous story. Every insignificant detail.

There had been days where he texted you simply because he saw a cat that looked funny.

And now there was somebody important enough to go on a date with, and somehow you hadn’t known. You hated how much that hurt.

“So now you’re keeping secrets?” you joked. Or at least you tried to make it sound like a joke. Something flickered across his expression. Was it concern?

“Why are you being weird?”

“I’m not being weird.”

“You are.”

“I’m literally not.”

“You are.”

“I’m not.”

Satoru stared at you for a long moment. Then, slowly, he leaned back against the tree. The concern remained. And somehow that only irritated you more. Because what exactly were you supposed to tell him?

Sorry, Satoru. I’m irrationally upset about a completely normal event and I have absolutely no idea why.

No.

So instead you smiled. The fake kind. The exhausting kind. The kind that made your cheeks hurt and flood bile up your throat. “Seriously,” you said. “Good for you.”

His expression softened. And suddenly guilt punched straight through your chest. Because he looked happy. Genuinely happy. The kind of happy you should have been celebrating as a best friend. The kind of happy that should have made you happy too.

Instead, all you could think about was the image of him sitting across from another girl tonight.

Laughing, smiling, looking at her the way he looked at people he liked. Maybe walking her home afterward. Maybe texting her before bed. Maybe kissing her or having sex…ughh you don’t wanna think about that.

Maybe waking up tomorrow with somebody else occupying the space in his life that had always belonged to you. The thought arrived so suddenly that it stole the air from your lungs. And immediately you hated yourself for it. Because what was wrong with you?

Seriously?

What was wrong with you?

He was your best friend.

Your best friend.

As though some ugly hidden part of you had believed otherwise. You spent the rest of the conversation pretending.

Pretending to listen. Pretending to smile. Pretending that every mention of tonight didn’t feel like a knife being slowly twisted deeper and deeper into your chest.

By the time Satoru finally left, promising he’d tell you how everything went tomorrow, your head was pounding. You watched him walk away. Watched him disappear around the corner. And for the first time in years, the thought of seeing him tomorrow filled you with dread instead of comfort.

Because what if it went well? The question followed you all the way home. What if it went really well? What if she was funny? What if she understood his stupid astrophysics rambles? What if she made him laugh? What if she liked all the little things about him that most people found annoying? What if she became important?

You hope his date goes miserable.

- divider by @/muerdida

[uzugeto]

CUT THAT ALWAYS BLEEDS

geto suguru swallowed malicious beings, forced himself to accommodate to humanity’s evil desires in spite of the awful taste that lingered on his tongue. what he would not allow, however, was for his daughter to go through the same thing.

PAIRING: suguru geto x fem reader

CONTENT WARNINGS: SFW but i’d prefer minors don’t interact with my account. existence of curses/canon divergence. angst. hurt with some comfort. main character death. suguru geto being a girl dad.

jujutsu society is cruel and unjust.

children are reduced to being worth what technique they had the fortune of being born with, of how much cursed energy flowed through their veins. their innocence, empathy, and kindness were often times stripped away throughout the years, experiencing how cruel humanity and curses alike could be. they were left jaded—only the husk of what once was remaining in place.

it’s only then that they’re shaped into the perfect weapon, contributing to a system that treats them like a cog in a machine. irrelevant and replaceable. into savoring every last minute of youth, squeezing years worth of memories and relationships into small pockets of time before they’re gone. before they’re only left with a bitter feeling of regret upon their last breath.

suguru could never see his daughter as a weapon, as something to hone and train to fight against a useless, meritless cause.

loud wails shook the otherwise empty halls of the temple, tiny body covered in vernix caseosa, waxy underneath his fingertips. she trembled against his chest, eyes wide and alert as she looked up at him. suguru felt the weight of the universe in that little stare, felt.. complete in a way he hadn’t before.

“nothing short of perfection. just like her mother,” he murmured, walking over to your bedside. a few nurses stepped in through the doors, gazes stuck to the floor as they went over to clean you up. suguru placed your daughter in your tired arms, recognition immediately settling on her face. she didn’t cry, didn’t fuss. simply looked at you like you were her whole world.

you cleared your throat, voice hoarse as you spoke, “she’s beautiful.” as gently as he could, suguru slowly dragged a rag across your forehead. wiping away the sweat that dribbled down your face. the quiet shuffling of the nurses moving around quickly becomes background noise, your focus on the angel in your arms.

wide, violet eyes, much like the ones you’d fallen in love with oh so long ago, ones that you’d looked into while promising to be there in sickness and in health, stare back. you swear you fall in love all over again while staring at your daughter. she doesn’t latch onto her nipple easily, but when she does, she’s quite greedy.

tiny razor sharp nails dig into your skin as her eyes flutter shut, suckling as if she’d been starved. exhaustion settles deep within your bones, a good exhaustion upon seeing that your daughter was well, that she was healthy—but one that leaves you tired and worn out nonetheless.

suguru doesn’t hesitate in taking the baby in his arms, seeing just how close you were to falling asleep. how utterly exhausted you were, melting into the sheets below. “rest. you deserve it,” he whispered, pressing a small kiss on your forehead.

he’d take care of her—he hadn’t dealt with nearly as much as you had in these last few months. hadn’t been as sleep deprived. you deserved the world and more for bringing his world to light, and if all you needed was time to sleep? well, he’d gladly comply.

suguru geto untied his robes with nimble fingers, neatly folding them and placing them on a plastic chair next to the couch. he stripped away his shirt, revealing years’ worth of scars littered throughout his body. some new, the flesh still raised and puffy, and some old: faded into silver, flattened marks across his skin.

however, the one he was most self conscious about was the x on his chest. a cruel reminder of a time he’d been too vulnerable, too simple minded to understand true danger, too weak. suguru didn’t take his shirt off often, didn’t want to have to face the gruesome mark. but, he let his daughter settle against his chest, warmth wrapping around her small body like a blanket.

“you’re good with her,” you noted through your exhaustion, a fond expression taking place as you watched them. how comfortable your daughter seemed against him, her tiny fingers wrapping around one of his. her breaths slowly began to even out with each rock, a yawn bigger than her leaving her lips. it didn’t take long for her to fall asleep, curled up against the scar on his chest.

what was once a cruel reminder was now a place of comfort for his newborn.

and while instinct had kicked in almost immediately, suguru was still afraid. afraid of not being there to protect his daughter when she needed, afraid of messing up and having her resent him. but somehow, just looking down at her, everything slowly started to make sense. “she makes it easy to want to be good.”

the words fell into a quiet room. you and your daughter had fallen asleep, peacefully resting after the eventful afternoon that you’d shared. from your strain to bringing her out into the world to her struggling to get out, needless to say—the two of you were exhausted. suguru didn’t fall asleep just yet, alert in case either of you needed anything.

hands that once massacred a village in cold blood for the sake of protecting two little girls, that unleashed cursed spirit after cursed spirit to wreak havoc amongst the townsfolk were nothing short of gentle in the way that he treated his little family.

jujutsu society spread the news quickly four years ago: painting him as the worst curse user in existence upon the village’s extermination. demanding that he be killed if he were ever to be encountered. he was cold and precise in the way that he handled meetings—in the way that he treated his members. giving them just enough hope and enough of a glimpse of salvation that they were begging at his feet with bills in hand for the following scraps.

he was a different man when he came back home.

overbearing, perhaps. but nothing short of devoted—making sure that you and your daughter were satisfied at the cost of draining his members’ pockets. you mentioned something was bothering you? he’d have it fixed before you would have to deal with that issue again. your daughter wanted a new bike? she got it by the end of the day.

it wasn’t just the material stuff, either. you weren’t useless, much less after child birth of all things—immediately pushing yourself into working after you’d been cleared by the nurses. while suguru knew he couldn’t stop you, that didn’t mean he was there to see you overexert yourself. “take a rest, my love,” he’d say, hands gently rubbing against your shoulder blades. he wouldn’t stop until you finally relented, taking a what he believed was a well deserved break.

and with your daughter, great things were welcomed and encouraged, but they were never expected. there was never the expectation that she’d become a sorcerer when the age hit, that she’d have to fight against spirits she didn’t want to. suguru still took the time to train with her whenever a meeting didn’t run too long, teaching her how to defend herself—how to throw a punch without injuring her fist, how to throw someone to the ground.

“how’d i do?” she’d come up to him with a toothy grin, sweat dripping down her forehead. suguru would pass her a bottle of ice cold water, easing her into taking small sips of it before responding, “you did great. you’re gonna beat your old man in no time.” that got a little giggle in response, his daughter shaking her head.

“my dad’s the strongest there is,” she’d say with a grin, self assured that alone was fact.

the first time that suguru geto’s daughter had absorbed a cursed spirit, she was six. barely aware of her own technique, but slowly starting to become conscious of it. techniques were often as simple as breathing, simply being able to do the act, but she quite hadn’t gotten the hand of how to manage it just yet.

it’d been a simple walk, the little girl curiously strolling through temple grounds, autumn leaves crushing beneath her feet. a wind blew past, rattling trees in its wake. it wasn’t the first time she’d felt a malevolent spirit anchored towards her body, but it was the first time that she’d been alone to deal with it. they usually never dared to approach when suguru was around.

the orb landed like acid against her tastebuds, warm tears streaking her cheeks. it burned upon going down her throat, tasted wretched and disgusting. her body wretched and curled, wanting to reject the foreign object and spit it back out. still, no matter how much her body didn’t want to, her mind wouldn’t let go—forcing her to swallow it down.

he wished he could tell her that it got better as time went on. it didn’t. the taste of shit and vomit never eased, no matter how many curses were absorbed. no matter how many times he tried desperately to scrape his tongue clean, how many times he’s tried to mask the taste with a bag of overly salted chips. the rancid taste remains long after, the sense of dread clinging on just as stubbornly.

so instead, suguru geto knelt down and gently placed a hand on her cheek. “look at me,” his voice was nothing but a lulling whisper, soothing your daughter’s distraught and wiping her tears away with the pads of his thumbs. “you are not a weapon and i am not expecting you to act like one. there’s nothing you have to do that you don’t want to do.”

she nodded her head once, leaning into his touch. her tiny hands wrapped around his stomach, head pressed against his chest. “then why do you do it?” she whispered through choked tears. a simple, innocent question. suguru’s hand rubbed against her back, thinking of his answer. it’d never been much of a decision at first. wanting to help humankind in whatever way he could, saving those who couldn’t save themselves.

then, it became an obligation to destroy the very thing he’d once sworn to protect. stocking up his arsenal with special grades, grade ones, grade twos when the time came for his attack against jujutsu high. to ensure that this burden, the disgust that he had to stomach, would be his and his alone.

“it’s something i need to do. to ensure you don’t have to, or that your mother doesn’t need to put herself in danger.” the memory of you—attacked by a special grade cursed spirit still plagued his nightmares. blood dripped from a gash on your stomach, pooling around the ground around you. it was a simple mission—nothing more than a third grade yaga had said.

he never wanted to see you again in that condition—desperately clinging on to stay alive, your breathing ragged, your hands cold to the touch. he knew you were capable—knew that even though the special grade put up a good fight, you managed to put it down. still, he didn’t want to see you planning on the end of your life in your mid twenties again.

“and sometimes you get cool stuff like this.” a large portal stretches out behind his back, white scales gleaming against sunlight as rainbow dragon’s summoned upon command. it stretches out behind him, long (maybe 20 feet) and majestic. she approaches him slowly, holding her hand out the way she would a stray dog.

rainbow dragon tentatively sniffs at her hand, leaning his head up against her touch. the rancid taste of the curse is quickly forgotten, soft giggles leaving her lips as she runs her fingers through the glimmering scales. “you can ride him, if you wish.” suguru hoists her up against the dragon’s back, long wings spanning across before taking flight.

loud laughter echoes throughout the skies as rainbow dragon takes her higher and higher, its body languid as it follows her commands. it glides between trees seamlessly, moving against the wind as if it were a delicate dance. whatever fear she’d had quickly dwindled down—handling the dragon as if she’d had years of experience.

“thank you, mr. dragon.” she places a small kiss on top of its head upon being put on the ground, running back up to her father. “did you see me? i was like wayyyy up there!” she pointed up to the sun before continuing to ramble, “it was so much fun, my heart was like racing!” it reminded him of the times you’d ramble about something you’d enjoyed—how animated you’d get.

suguru took her out to get crepes from takeshita street before the shops closed for the day in an attempt to cheer her up even further, navigating through the alleyways with ease. a golden bell dings overhead, announcing their presence to the employee at the front. “what would you guys like today?”

he lets her order the sweetest item on the menu without complaint. something to ease whatever taste lingered on her tongue. suguru took something simple, taking a seat across from her on a table. it was a quiet for a minute, peaceful. the few stragglers that were around the shop left as closing time quickly approached.

then she broke the silence. “who’s the white haired guy with the blindfold?” she questioned between bites, powdered sugar sticking to the corners of his mouth with each word. “i saw him in some of the pictures you stored away.”

“he is—” suguru awkwardly cleared his throat, “—was my best friend. the one and only friend i’ve really had. he’s the strongest.”

“ooo, can i meet him someday?” she chimes with a smile, taking a large bite out a juicy strawberry. suguru takes a napkin, lightly wiping away at the juice dribbling down her chin before uttering, “we don’t talk much anymore.”

—

war’s declared against jujutsu high in the following days—set for december 24th. the night parade of a hundred demons. there’s no way to keep track of how many cursed spirits roam the streets of shinjuku, each one more threatening than the last. everyone had a job to do, someone to deal with and defeat.

except.. it doesn’t work out. you feel the shift in the air as soon as it happens, as soon as you can’t feel suguru’s energy. the plan had been crazy at best, a suicide mission at worst. but you, in spite of yourself, you believed that your husband’s conviction was enough to pull this off. spirits are exorcised, members that once vowed their lives to the cause quickly run away, and you can’t bring yourself to move.

can’t bring yourself to accept the fact that your husband’s dead—that all the plans you’d made about welcoming another baby into the family were now ruined. that you’d have to continue living without him, that the smell of the incense he liked to burn and the smell of his cologne would fade away from your bedsheets sooner rather than later. even when satoru gojo confirms the news, you still can’t bring yourself to accept it.

the second time that suguru geto’s daughter absorbed a cursed spirit? he wasn’t there to protect her, to tell her that the duty of the world didn’t fall onto her shoulders.

the cold december wind was relentless, brutal as it hit through the sleeves of your sweater. your husband’s lifeless body was slowly put down into the ground, your grip around your daughter’s hand tightening. suguru geto had failed in his mission and it was up to her to take the mantle despite how hard he’d tried otherwise.

taglist: @suguruss1ut @sextier @mimzi24 @bygeto @outpostsworld + link to join

[gojostit]

Art by me!

MY EMPLOYEES ARE SECRET AGENTS || EPISODE ZERO: PROLOGUE

TAGS ೃ⁀➷ Fem!Mouse!Reader , CAFE!au , HYBRID!au , No use of “Y/N” , themes of discrimination/Prejudice/Bigotry , cursing , backstory , minor Satoru cameo

SYNOPSIS ✧.* How you came to open a cafe as a Mouse Hybrid

MASTERLIST TO THIS SERIES ✧.* >> My Employees are Secret Agents!

W.C 2.9k

EPISODE ONE: Your New Employee >>

Why doesn’t she have ears and a tail like you do?

You always wondered the same thing with each new doll that was donated to the orphanage. Every month there would be a donation of new toys and you’d be the most excited one for them. You’d always be the first one to look into the box, many kids complained that you had an advantage because you were an animal. Ms. Ranai told you to pay no mind to them as you’d continue to be first and look at all the toy cars, building blocks, figurines, animal plushies, and dolls. Pretty plastic dolls. Like mini runway models of— humans, of course. Back then when you were younger you’d assume the ears and tail fell off of it and you’d search the box or boxes to see if you could find them. You never did. The caregivers suggested you the animal plushies instead but, was it really the same? You aren’t an animal; but you aren’t a human either. Oh, how complicated it was to be a hybrid child.

You remember hiding in the corner of the playroom, behind the toy box with a pair of scissors, glue, a mouse plush, and a pretty, perfect, plastic doll. You’d cut off the ears and tail of the plush and glue them onto the doll. The stuffing would get everywhere, but you slid them into the corner so that the caretakers wouldn’t notice them. You’d finally have a doll that looked like you. It had the ears and the tail, the hands and the feet, a pretty, hybrid, plastic doll.

You were snapped out of your thoughts by the calling of your name. You peek your head from your hiding spot to see Ms. Ranai, one of the older caretakers, spotting you. “That’s where you are, I’ve been looking everywhere for—“ She notices what you have done to the toys, “What in the world did you… nevermind. Come on, girl, your friend is about to leave for his new family. You have to say goodbye,” she pulled you out from behind the toy box by your wrist and dragged you down the hall to the entrance. You don’t remember a friend though.

Outside was the boy sitting on the steps, a backpack in hand, stuffed full with all his stuff. He heard the click of the door opening and whipped his head around, his gaze meeting Ms. Ranai then down to you. He smiled brightly.

“You came!” He scrambled to stand up.

Ms. Ranai smiled at the cheery boy, then down to you. Tapping your back, making you respond, “Yeah.”

“She couldn’t let you go without seeing for one last time.” Ms. Ranai smiled for you. The boy knew better though. “Oh! It looks like your family is here to pick you up now.” You raise your head to see a car pulling up to the curb. You glance away as the parents step out of the car.

“Ah—“ he turned his attention back to you, “Thank you for seeing me before I go,” the boy pulled out a bracelet from his pocket. He lent out a hand for yours. Hesitantly, you took it. He brought your wrist up and tied the handmade bracelet around your wrist. It sparkled with every pretty bead he could find in the bead box. “There,” he took a step back, “it’s for you! A friendship bracelet and something to remember me by.” You stared down at the bracelet, seeing it sparkle in the sun.

“I don’t have anything for you,” you mumbled

“Oh! Don’t worry about it! I never expected anything back,” he reassured but it made you feel more bad. You gripped tightly onto the doll you forgot was still in your hand before holding it up to him.

“For you— to remember me by.” You looked at the boy’s surprised face. He smiled softly as he gently took it out of your hands.

“It looks like you.” His small finger stroked the ear, “Thank you, nothing in the world would make me forget you though!” He smiled. Ms. Ranai reluctantly stopped the moment between you two as it was time for him to go. Ms. Ranai and you waved him off. That was the last time you’ve seen him. The first gift you ever got and first friend. Everytime you remember this day you feel bad. You never remembered his name, let alone his face. Ms. Ranai would tell you he’d be the boy that played with you during play time. All those moments were lost to time now.

Once the car was finally out of view, your smile dropped slightly, “Ms. Ranai?” You began, “Why do parents always pick the humans?”

“They don’t always do. You just tend to not be what they’re looking for.”

You knew what that answer meant though. Parents come to adopt a kid, not a pet.

———

“Doesn’t she carry diseases and stuff?”

“I heard you’d get rabies if she bites you.”

“Wha?! That’s so scary!”

“I feel bad for Chisaki, she’s the one who always has to sit next to her.”

“Who are we whispering about?” Your presence startled the three girls. You peered down at them from the window.

“O-oh! We didn’t see you there..”

“We were talking about another girl from class 2-B.” Another made up an excuse. One girl whispered to the other two girls.

“We— have to get going now uh- see you,” the girls scampered away like they were scared. One looked like they could shriek like they saw a rat. No rodent in sight but you.

You remember Highschool being fuzzy memories as not much happened. It was uneventful at most, except the times people spoke about you behind your back. No one bothered saying it to your face or put their hands on you because they feared a disease from you. When you were younger, it was a stupid thought, but you sometimes hoped it’d be like in the movies and people would say nasty words to your face. Someone would finally say something to your face. At least you’d come home with something to talk about. It was such a stupid thought every time you looked back on it.

“How was school?” Ms. Ranai would ask you as you finished preparing coffee for her, right after preparing dinner for the other kids. Over the years her skin sagged lower and her gray hair thinned. You hated being part mouse. You could hear her heartbeat slow every day.

“The usual,” you replied bluntly, placing a cup of coffee in front of her. You take a seat across from her.

“You always say that but never elaborate,” She took a sip of her coffee.

“Go to school, class, lunch, class, go home. There’s not much to really talk about,” you yawned, watching Ms. Ranai places down her cup with a soft thud, “My grades are good if that’s what you’re wondering about,” you smiled subtly and reassuringly.

“Don’t you think you should be having some fun with friends right now and still not at this orphanage with this old lady?” Damn.

“Hey— you tryna say I’m a loser, Ms. Ranai?” You raised a brow at her with scoff.

“You’re already gonna graduate in a few months, you’re going to head off to college, I can’t be the only person you’ll still talk to by then. I’m not gonna get any younger,” She furrowed her brows at you. The cold reminder made you quiet. You leaned back into your chair with crossed arms.

“I don’t think I am going to college,” you responded quietly as you glanced away, expecting some scolding. Ms. Ranai’s expression turned neutral, leaning closer with interest.

“Then what are you going to do, girl?” Her voice was eerily calm.

“I don’t know.” You rolled your eyes, “probably work here,” you waved your tail, gesturing to this place.

“I’m not going to hire you just because I know you.”

You frowned, “Then I’ll find a job somewhere else. Retail or fast food.”

“Are you gonna be happy with that?”

“I’ll be lucky enough to find a retail job to take on a rodent hybrid as an employee. It’s already a luxury for hybrids to have a stable life,” you shot back, leaning onto the table as well. Ms. Ranai paused, taking a deep breath. The silence made you assume you won in this conversation. She looked down and swirled the liquid in her mug.

“Your coffee is good,” she commented.

Your tense shoulders relaxed, “Well I hope so. It’s the only thing I like doing, along with making some light meals,” you shrugged.

“You should do something with that. A cafe of some sort,” her voice softened.

You let out a small laugh in disbelief, “Yeah no, no one is going to eat the food from a hybrid let alone I somehow get enough money to even open a place.”

Ms. Randi shrugged with a soft and faint smile, “food connects us all in more ways you could imagine, girl. You should give it a shot one day.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll probably be taking of you when I graduate, Ms. Ranai,” her smile faltered and she sighed.

“You need to dream bigger, you stupid girl.”

You frowned at the disappointed sigh. Did she really expect you to take on that idea?

A cafe. How stupid.

———

“Scram! Ya’ damn rodent, before I call the cops!” The bar owner threw you out onto the hard and snow covered asphalt, before slamming the door on you.

“Jeez! Fuck. I heard you for the first time! jackass. Didn’t need to throw me onto the ground…” You muttered to yourself through clenched teeth. You got up, brushing the snow and dirt off of yourself. You picked up your beanie that was hiding your big mouse ears from the snow. You caught a glimpse of the “No Hybrids allowed” sign hooked onto the door.

You frowned at the sign, tearing your gaze away from it as you walked away with your hands shoved in your pocket. It’s not worth it.

You walk back, tearing the sign off the door, and tossing it into a nearby trash can. Now you begin walking home. You never even liked that bar anyway. It was just the closest one after a long day of working at a crummy gas station. The scent reeked in there, you’d remember. The whole city reeked. Maybe it was because of your heightened senses of being a hybrid it bothered you more than most. But cities are supposedly the most hybrid friendly places in the country, not many options for someone like you to go.

The city. You’d hear each step made on the cement. Each crunchy step made on the snow. Every whisper and laughter. Every shift of gears in each car passing through. The faint music playing in each restaurant. Each flap of a bird’s wings flying high. Sucks, no? And it’s only night. During the day it’s worse. That’s just being a hybrid though. Heightened senses. “Superhumans.” That’s what hybrids were created to be eighty years ago. Now you all roam the streets as other humans, suffering from what is supposed to deem you as “better.” It’s a joke to ask to be equal to a human. It was biologically and socially impossible.

You got back home sighing in relief from the quietness of Ms. Ranai’s apartment. You shut the door behind you, shuffling for your keys to lock it. “I’m home!” You called out and slipped out of your shoes and into house slippers, “The bar found out I was a hybrid and kicked me out. The owner was nasty about it though, the asshole dragged me out of there and threw me onto the pavement,” you hung up your jacket on the racket. It was quiet, eerily so, “Ms. Ranai?” You called out. A cold and tense feeling welled up in your chest. You ran down the hall to her room, “Ms. Ranai!—“

You hate being a hybrid. You hate how you had to watch every human make friends with one another and you’d get left out like some freak. You hate how all the boys and hybrid boys all crush on the human girls. You hate how you couldn’t even get a job at a fast food restaurant because of lack of experience but the next morning you saw a little high schooler work there instead. You hate how you can’t even get a drink at a run down bar with average tasting alcohol because of your ears and tail. You hated how you couldn’t hear Ms. Ranai’s heart beat anymore.

You remember Ms. Ranai’s funeral was on a beautiful morning of snowfall. You stared out the window, watching each flake slowly fall down onto the cement. You left the responsibility of what happens to her body to the other caregivers at the orphanage. It was something you wanted to do but wondered if it was the right thing. You could see all the kids from the orphanage were in the other room, crying, confused, or neutral. You saw yourself in all of them. You lost the only person who was close to you. You lost a caretaker. You lost someone who was just there for you because you never got adopted. You were snapped out of your thoughts as you heard your name get called out.

“Yes? That’s me,” you spoke softly, turning your head to see a woman approaching you.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you miss,” a woman bowed respectfully to you, “I am sorry for your loss. Are you already aware that Ms. Ranai has left everything to you in her will?”

“Yes, I’ve heard already.”

“Mhm, she also wanted me to deliver this to you as well,” the woman handed you an envelope.

“Ah, thank you,” looking down at the envelope in your hands you open it slowly. You slip out a piece of paper, unfolding it to reveal a letter. You read through it quickly, letting out a chuckle. The amused sound caused the woman to tilt her head curiously, “that persistent old woman…” you mumble to yourself, “thank you miss, again,” your sorrow filled eyes replaced with a friendly gaze as you nodded at her while placing the letter back in the envelope.

“Yes, of course, miss.” The woman smiled back softly at you before making her leave.

You guess you could give it a shot.

———-

“Last night, two Highschool girls were reported to be missing from Ine, Kyoto, adding on to the overwhelming increased amount of missing persons cases from the beginning of last month—“

The News played from the small TV hung up in the corner as you stood from the counter, rubbing a glass clean with a cloth. The warm, orange rays of sun shined harshly through the windows, giving light to each empty booth. The glass gleamed with a glossy-like surface after you pulled the cloth away. You turned your attention fully on the TV as there were no customers to serve.

Another missing persons case? That’s the fifth one this month. At least it’s only from the town over.

“There were no signs of a break in but reports of hybrids found around the same area of the disappearances.”

The TV showed a low quality image of a blurry silhouette knocking over a trash bin. You clicked your tongue and frowned at the sight, placing the glass down with some force. Your tail flicked angrily as you muttered to yourself, “Now that’s just a lot of bull crap, that easily could’ve been some stray alley cat not a hybrid.”

“I know right?”

You shrieked as you jumped from the sudden other voice that was right next to you. You whipped your head around to see a buff and lean snow leopard hybrid sitting on one of your barstools. His hair was spiky and as white as the clouds. He wore near pitch black rectangular sunglasses and a smug smirk. He looked like a big guy, how in the world did you not hear him come in? Maybe you really do need to get a bell…

You muttered a curse to yourself as you held your chest, “I am so sorry sir— how long have you been there?”

“Not long so don’t worry,” he flipped out a flier, “I’m here to apply for the job!” He grinned widely as presented the near faded out print of the flier.

You never expected to hire someone at all, truthfully. Who would want a hybrid as their boss? You didn’t expect to even see another hybrid so far from Tokyo either. Let alone this weirdo that appears out of thin air waving your old flier you put out the first week you got here, looking for workers. Some people tore it right off the walls once they saw it. Not like you were surprised, but still offended. Hybrids are usually not welcome in towns in the countryside, but at least it was far quieter than the city. It’s why you went out here so far with the money Ms. Ranai left for you. A chance to give yourself time to find something to dream about.

You glanced up from the flier to him, his boyish smile made your eyes narrow skeptically. Looking back on it you don’t know why you eventually allowed such a man to be your first employee. But…

You don’t regret your decision.

Bolded tags are people who requested to be tagged but I am not able to tag or people I cannot tag anymore! Msg me soon to fix any other issues ^^

TAGLIST! (OPEN) >> @starlight5cat , @nightmarenyxx , @tntoothless , @vleixieee , @goojooo , @venetiandream , @reversearrowhead , @icebearcucumber , @b3bybunny , @sudswow , @typeobitch . . .

[paperellina]

tojis shy wife asking him if they can have a baby ♡

a/n: this is such a boring fic but whatever idc

youve been following him around the house for almost an hour.

soft little footsteps behind him while he moves from room to room, arms sneaking around his waist the second he stops moving long enough, cheek pressing between his shoulder blades while hes trying to do literally anything.

toji notices immediately.

hed noticed every extra second youve spent touching him today, every shy look, every time you open your mouth like youre gonna say something and then dont.

right now hes standing at the kitchen counter trying to pour himself a drink while you cling to his back like a sleepy cat, arms wrapped around his middle.

his hand settles over yours automatically.

"…you need somethin?" he mutters.

you shake your head against him.

"yeah?" he says, rough and unconvinced. "baby. then why you stuck t'me like glue?"

your grip tightens a little at that, face warming instantly when he glances back over his shoulder at you. you just go quiet again.

he sighs softly through his nose, setting the glass down before turning around fully, hands landing on your waist as he looks down at you properly.

"cmon," he mutters. "spit it out."

you hesitate so long he almost thinks you changed your mind, eyes dropping away from his while your fingers curl into the front of his shirt.

"…dont get mad" you mumble

his brows pull together immediately. "the hell would I get mad for?"

you dont answer, just stand there all shy and sweet, practically folded into his chest, and he can physically see you trying to work up the courage to say whatevers been sitting in your head.

"…can we have a baby?"

toji goes quiet, the question catches him off guard harder than he expected. his hands stay warm on your waist while he looks down at you, brows pulling together slightly as he thinks about it, thumb rubbing slow against your side without him realizing.

"..baby." he mutters after a second, voice gentler now. "thats a real big question."

you immediately look nervous after that, eyes dropping away while your fingers twist lightly in his shirt.

"..i know.." you say quietly.

the way you say it all shy and careful, like youre worried he will shut you down completely, like youve been holding this in your chest all night.

then you look back up at him with big eyes, a soft expression on your face. hopeful in that sweet little way that always gets him. toji exhales hard through his nose, one hand sliding from your waist up your back before he pulls you closer against him.

"…cmere," he mutters, almost like hes buying himself time.

you melt right into him immediately, arms tightening around his middle, and he rests his chin briefly against the top of your head while he thinks.

"…maybe." he says finally, low and rough.

your whole face brightens so fast it nearly makes him laugh. "maybe?" you ask softly. he glances down at you, already losing the fight seeing that look on your face.

"…yea." he mutters, thumb brushing along your waist. "maybe, sweet girl."

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© 2026 paperellina - all rights reserved. do not plagiarise, translate, or feed into any form of ai.

[6x-x9]

-`♡´- Suguru makes love to you..! :: 18+ :: fem!reader ::

You lay on your tummy in the soft sheets, phone glowing in your hands as you scroll mindlessly. Suguru’s resting on your back, his big body a comforting weight that pins you gently into the mattress. He feels so solid and warm, his chest rising and falling against you with each breath, the room's quiet except for the low hum of the fan and the occasional tap of your finger on the screen.

"Should we order something for dinner?" he murmurs near your ear, voice low and smooth, "Or maybe I can make something just for you? Eggs the way you like them."

You smile into the pillow and nod, his hands starts to wander then. At first they're innocent, sliding along your sides, but soon his palms grow bolder and he slips them under your t-shirt, mapping the curve of your waist and the softness of your skin. His touch gentle yet sure, fingers spreading wide to feel more of your warmth.

A soft moan slips from your lips. It was quiet, barely there, but it made him shift and you felt it immediately. His cock begins to harden against your ass, pressing through his sweatpants as he moves, the more he rocks subtly, the more obvious it becomes... he's getting hard just from touching you like this.

"Are you getting hard right now, Suguru?" you tease, voice playful.

He sighs, a sound full of pain and want. "Fuck yes Princess. And you're such a brat for pointing it out."

Before you could laugh, he flips you over with ease. His strength always surprises you and now you lay on your back, staring up at his handsome face, dark hair falling forward, framing those sharp violet eyes thats looking at you with hunger and he traces his hands up your arms until he pins both your wrists above your head with one of his large hands. The other resting besides your face.

He leans down and kisses you. First came soft pecks, light and teasing against your lips, then the kiss deepens, his mouth claiming yours fully, tongue pushing inside to taste you. You moan into it, body arching up to meet him and he slots perfectly between your thighs, his hips settling against yours as if he always belonged there.

The grinding starts slow, his hard cock rubbing right against your pussy through your thin shorts, with each roll of his hips makes you wetter, the fabric growing damp from how much you want him, then his free hand roams down your side, squeezing your hip before sliding under your shirt again to cup your breast.

You tug against his grip on your wrists, not to escape but to feel the control he has and It sends sparks through you. Suguru notices and tightens his hold just enough to remind you whose in charge as his tongue tangles with yours, the kiss turns messy and hot, breathy sounds filling the space between you.

He breaks the kiss for a moment, lips brushing your jaw. "Look at you. Already so wet for me and I haven't barely even touched you properly, sweet girl." His voice husky and he grounds down harder, letting you feel every inch of his erection pressing against your plump pussy.

Your legs wraps around his waist instinctively, the pressure feeling so good, each movement drags cock right over your clit, making you gasp and he kisses you again, deeper this time, swallowing every little moan you give him, His hand leaves your breast and travels lower, slipping into your shorts to find you soaked.

Suguru groans against your mouth. "So warm and ready. My sweet brat." His fingers teases your folds, circling your clit with just enough pressure to make your hips buck and you try to move your hands but he keeps them pinned, forcing you to take the pleasure he's giving.

He kisses down your neck, sucking lightly at the sensitive spot that always makes you shiver. His hips never stopping their slow grind, even as his fingers explore you. Two thick fingers pushes inside your pussy, curling just right and the stretch feels perfect and you clench around them, moaning louder now.

The weight of him on top of you is everything. His broad shoulders blocking out the light from the lamp. His scent, clean and masculine with a hint of his shampoo, surrounds you, making you feel safe and claimed all at once.

"Please, Suguru," you whisper.

He lifts his head up to look at you, eyes dark with lust. "Please what? Tell me, baby." He adds a third finger, pumping them in and out slowly while his thumb rubs your clit.

You whimper... "I need you inside me. All of you."

He smiles, that lazy, dangerous smile. "Good girl for asking so nicely." Then he releases your wrists but only to pull your shirt off. His own clothes follows quickly and when he settles back between your thighs, his bare cock rests heavy against your slick pussy.

He takes his time rubbing the head up and down your folds, coating himself in your wetness. Every slide making you tremble, then he pushes in, inch by thick inch, stretching you open until he bottoms out, the fullness makes your head fall back against the pillow.

Suguru stays still for a moment, savoring how you pulse around him and his hands finds yours again, lacing your fingers together above your head and he starts to move, deep and steady thrusts that hit every sensitive spot inside you.

Your moans mix with his low groans. The bed creaks softly under you both, he leans down to kiss you through it, tongues sliding together in time with his hips and weat begins to slick your skin where you're touching.

He angles his thrusts to grind against your clit with every push, the pleasure builds fast and your legs tightens around him, heels digging into the small of his back. "Aaa— Close," you breathe.

"Come for me," he commands softly. "Let me feel it."

You shatter around him, pussy clenching tight as waves of pleasure washes over you and he keeps moving through it, drawing it out until you’re shaking. Only then does he let himself go, burying deep and filling you with hot pulses of his milky cum.

He collapses on top of you, still inside, his weight comforting once more, he presses soft kisses to your shoulder as you both catch your breath.

"Dinner in a minute," he murmurs with a smile. "And maybe round two after."

You laugh softly and nod, running your fingers through his raven hair. The night is still young, and Suguru is far from being done with you.

-`♡´- MAIN MASTERLIST-`♡´--`♡´-GETO M-LIST-`♡´-

[forfawkssake]

I hate it when you’re reading smut and you can’t figure out what position they’re in.

[jonmoxleys]

sometimes it just ends up being something like

[onlyhereforthedrama]

ITS BACK

[kerumito-chan]

maniac powerful entities poly

[belimah]

art by jtvll

[boringkate]

AU where the women in straight porn just grunt and say stuff like "take that big pussy, bitch" while the men scream and moan and convulse and arch their backs while shouting "Oh my god! You're wrecking my dick!"

[3-aem]

and again

[continuumh]

Sukuna yearns for vice-magistrate Gojo

[ocntinuum]

The context of the poem really fits sukugo after geeking over it with a friend, how they part ways but still yearn for each other, just very gay y’know. Satoru goes south and sukuna goes north

The sketch

(Accompany piece to an earlier sukuna post on main)

[yutanology]

part 1 | part 2

your yandere husband!toji who gets a bit worried you might find a younger, better looking guy than him so he makes you quit your corporate job to be a full-time housewife. maybe a bit too worried about you losing the spark after marriage so he tries his best to keep your relationship interesting everyday by giving you gifts and getting freaky with you.

although having kids might be helpful in keeping you tied down to him, he worries that they might steal your love and attention from him. but when you sent him to the pharmacy to buy pregnancy test kits and it came back positive, your happy tears and excitement made him forget about it.

he looked after you especially during your due month and your postpartum. he nursed you back to health, all while taking care of his newborn son. your now three years old megumi became his daddy's accomplice in making sure mommy's happy every day.

little megumi would be the one who runs to receive packages and the first to answer the door when someone rings the doorbell, with you following behind him. when yandere husband!toji comes home, megumi would tell him everything both of you did for the whole day during dinner, like the reliable assistant he is.

my masterlist<3

[ofumofu]

flower

[abbygoons]

<𝟑 .ᐟ husband-to-be!sukunas first look at your wedding dress!

₊˚⊹ᰔ sfw, fem!reader, still on my #letsukunacry agenda

neither of you believe in that ‘it’s bad luck for the groom to see the wedding dress before the ceremony’ crap. mostly because it’s outdated, but also because sukuna was so eager to see you first on your big day, be the first to see you dressed so beautifully, to wed him of all people. he was such a lucky man, he reminded himself that everyday, that’s why he gave you the ring.

you’re sitting alone in the bridal suite, hairstylist and makeup artist leaving the room after dolling you all up prettily to give you and sukuna privacy. you can’t help but feel nervous. this is your big day, finally marrying the love of your life, but you feel jittery. your leg bounces up and down, your hands shake from the anticipation, and you can hear your heart pounding in your chest.

the pounding only gets louder when the sharp sound of knocks echoes through the suite, alerting you that sukuna was standing right outside. the nerves finally hit you, a drowning a feeling that suffocates you so intensely you forget to stand up and let him in, until you hear another set of louder knocks this time, disrupting you from the anxiety.

you stumble as you stand up, all clumsy and nervous. you’re trembling, a shaky hand laying unsteadily on the doorknob. this was it, you were going to see him, he was going to see you.

your unsteady hand is almost unable to twist the doorknob, but it finally does after the fourth time. behind the swinging door is your husband to be, your love, your life, your sukuna.

sukuna stands motionless, speechless, it worries you how still he stands, just staring at you. all of you. to your specially styled hair, to your professionally done makeup, to the dress. god, you are so beautiful. the dazzling dress compliments you so wonderfully, he cannot believe you’re his.

“kuna…?” your soft voice comes out as barely a whisper, shaky as you try to gauge his emotions. his face is completely stoic. did he find you ugly? did he regret proposing? you’re about to cry from the nerves alone until you see him blinking away a tear.

“you’re…”

“what’s wrong?” you gasp, taking a step forward to thumb away the rolling down. the close proximity, your body molded against his so perfectly, your tender touch, it all reminds him why he chose you, why you are the one he wants to wed. the overwhelming emotions he’s feeling has him uncontrollably crying, fat tears streaming down his sculpted face, vision blurry as he tries to hold you.

he’s ashamed he’s crying, bending his body down to slot his face in the crook of your neck to hide his tears. you’re confused at first, this is the first time you’ve ever seen sukuna cry. you assumed he wasn’t capable of crying, that he pushed emotional acts past him, he usually got defensive if he was feeling emotional. but you were so wrong in your judgement, because here he was, sobbing into your neck as he hold you close, squeezed you against him so tightly you couldn’t breathe.

“i can’t believe,” he’s gasping out through sobs, clutching you close while being mindful to not ruin the expensive fabric of your dress, “you chose me.”

“i’d always choose you,” you answer without hesitance, hand sliding down to find his and intertwining your fingers to squeeze. “i’ll choose you in every life. that’s why i’m marrying you.”

your heartfelt confession only has him breaking down harder, experiencing full body trembles, body wracked with such love. he loves you, and it is such an overwhelming feeling.

“i love you,” he cries, “i love you, i love you so much, my beautiful wife, you’re so gorgeous,” it’s like he’s reciting a mantra, “i’ll always love you. i can’t wait to marry you.”

you laughing through your own tears, trying your best to wipe away the stray tears without smudging your perfectly done makeup. it’s okay, your makeup artist already prepared to redo it knowing you’d be seeing sukuna before the ceremony.

he’s pulling away from, reluctantly so, and you’re both wiping away each others tears. he’s so tender, such a contrast from his rough persona.

“you really choose me? i’m not dreaming?”

“i really choose you.”

“you do?”

“in every life.”

[fireflyschiikawa]

husband!satoru : and darling they all look like me

satoru gets the wind knocked out of him.

kind of embarrassing for the strongest but,

you’d just caught him off guard okay?

i mean, who expects to be woken up by their extremely pregnant wife sobbing into his arms and then getting punched in the gut by said wife.

mind you, at three am.

certainly not him.

“ow!” satoru winces, attempting a lopsided smile “you throw a harsh punch, babe” he comments, trying to seize the situation.

“it’s not fair!” you sob, uncontrollable tears continue to stream down your face, “i’m doing all the hard work”

“yes you are” satoru nods eagerly, not wanting to piss you off any further.

“this is my third pregnancy, THIRD, i do everything i bare all the load and they all—“ you hiccup.

satoru sees it coming, he knows exactly what you’re going to say.

“they all always come out looking like YOU” you jab an accusatory finger at him.

your husband tries to open his mouth but you cut him off, rambling now “white hair, blue eyes, stupid adorable smile, it’s all you! i mean am i even a participant in their birth??”

trying not to laugh, satoru raises his hands up in mock surrender “these are all valid concerns” he affirms “but i thought you liked my features”

“yeah i did until now, when there’s two exact replicas of you running around and another on the way” you yawn, sleep already overriding your argument.

you didn’t really mean it, you loved seeing your lovers face in all of your children, but for the sake of sentimentality were you really the last of your generation? an almost extinct species truly.

“i’ll tell my genes to do better, actually you know what i’ll tell them to do worse, they’ve been outperforming recently” satoru speaks while caressing your hair and pressing soft kisses all over your face.

you patted his chest softly, almost feeling bad for punching him and already half asleep “yeah you do that”

he lightly chuckled, smiling at your belly all swollen with none other than another mini-him.

firefly; bringing back my og brand aka dad!satoru

inspo: