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candy69gurl · 10 days

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POV: You are Sukuna's Vessel 7

Warnings- mentions of violence, blood, comfort, alcohol usage, gojo x reader, sukuna x reader, smut, non con, yaoi maybe? Read it to find out

wc- 7k

Note- This one concludes the series, and I promise you will find it enjoyable despite its length. I put a lot of effort into making this as interesting as I could. There will be a truly surprising end. I hope it pleases everyone. Love you all for the support and motivation <3

The morning comes, and your stomach grumbles loudly. Sukuna's voice interrupts your dream: "Tsk, wake up and eat something." Unresponsive, you slobber on your pillow, lost in your dreams. Sukuna, frustrated, regains control and drags you out of bed.

He mutters, "Won't let you waste away." Despite his dislike for human food, he rummages through the empty refrigerator, discovering nothing edible. He lets out a sigh and reluctantly decides to address the lack of food. Though unenthusiastic, he recalls watching cookery demonstrations. He gathers supplies and begins preparing a breakfast for your body.

His voice mumbles, "If I mess up, it's your fault for sleeping." Time passes as his dexterous hands labour silently. You are blissfully unconscious, immersed in sleep.

His tone sneers, "Not bad for a first try." Despite his efforts to conceal it, delight flickers in his voice. He devours the entire platter in one go. Even though he despises human food, he guarantees that your survival comes first.

He lays back down, his gaze lands on a nearby smut book. Curiosity strikes, and he picks it up, flipping through pages filled with unfamiliar characters. "What the hell is this?" he asks, voice curious. Ignoring your sleep, he reads aloud, "Hmm... interesting." Though boredom threatens to set in, he perseveres, his eyes tracking each lewd word. A burst of laughter escapes him. His voice chuckles, "These humans are strange, why do you read these vessel?" Finished with the book, he tosses it aside, yawning widely.

Sukuna leaves your room and wanders out into the early dawn. He is aware of his surroundings and cautiously navigates the streets. He moves around without incident, avoiding Gojo and the others. His voice murmurs, "How dull... nothing exciting." Disdain seeps from his words, as his gaze scans the regular people. Despite his animosity, he knows better than to expose his true character. His voice snarls, "Fuck, I want to create damage, but this bitch is going to kill herself again. "What a pain in the ass!"

Despite his dislike, he observes the humans and finds their ordinary existence unpleasant. His steps carry him forward, the cityscape dissolving in the background. His voice dismisses, "Nothing worthwhile here." In quest of excitement, he wanders aimlessly, feeling frustrated.

Sukuna turns back and heads home, concern gnawing at him. Your impending awakening looms ahead, threatening exposure. Something emerges in his head that threatens to ruin his fun. He evaluates the implications, evaluating the risks against the potential advantages.

His voice mutters, "Too risky, gotta go." With fresh urgency, he retraces his travels in the hopes of returning to your room. Sukuna will never try to take over your body without your permission, even if he could. He prefers to use bodies when there are no constraints.

Sukuna approaches your door and grapples with the knob, his heart thumping. A startling presence halts his actions, as Megumi walks approaches him.

"Shit..", Sukuna exclaims relinquishing control over your body.

Your body collapses on the doorstep on lack of control. Megumi reacts swiftly, running to you and catching you in mid-fall. Concealing surprise, he carries you to Shoko's room.

"I saw her fidgeting with the door knob, but as soon as she saw me, she fell unconscious.. That's so odd" Megumi exclaims, concern coloring his voice.

Shoko greets him instantly, her calm demeanor intact. She examines you, offering soothing words. "It seems like she's just exhausted," she assures, her soft voice comforting.

Megumi nods. Later, he expresses his alarm to Gojo and the others, explaining your strange behaviour. Their suspicions grow, prompted by recent events.

Gojo furrows his brow and listens intently, "Something's off, we need to investigate."

The group agrees, formulating a plan.

Groggily, you awaken to find your hand buried within your tee.. resting on your bare chest. Confusion washes over you as you take in the sight before you.

Your hand is wrapped around your breast. But it's not just your hand - Sukuna's mouth has taken shape, his lips forming a perfect seal around your nipple. His tongue teases and licks your sensitive skin, sending shivers coursing through your veins.

Your eyes widen in shock as you stare at the sight before you, your mind racing to comprehend what's going on.

"You perv!", you yell softly.

You try to wrench your hand away from your breast, but Sukuna's mouth remains steadfastly attached to your nipple. The effort causes your nipple to tug and stretch, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure-pain through your system. "Aaah!" you cry out, wincing at the sudden sensation.

Your attempts to pull away only seem to tighten Sukuna's grip on your nipple, causing your breath to hitch.

"Mmmph..." he murmurs, his voice muffled by the suction. His eyes gleam with amusement, clearly delighted by your struggle.

You glare at him, your face flushing with embarrassment. "Let go!"

Sukuna's smile widens, his tongue darting out to tease your nipple once more.

Your eyes roll heavenward in exasperation. "This is ridiculous."

Sukuna laughs, his voice filling mind, "Feeling aroused? Don't forget, you're the one who put your hands inside your tee-shirt in the first place," he says, his voice laced with amusement.

His words hang in the air, a reminder of your own actions. You feel a flush rise to your cheeks as you try to recall the moment but cannot, your mind reeling with confusion.

"Shut up! I-it was by mistake.. probably," you hiss, trying to hide your embarrassment.

His tongue on your hand lingering on your nipple before releasing it. "You're the one who's perverted, not me!" you argue, your voice rising in anger.

Sukuna smirks, unfazed by your ire. "Oh, come on. We both know you enjoy these."

The two of you continue to bicker, neither one giving in. Just as things are starting to escalate, the door bursts open and Gojo strides in.

"Hey, hey, what's going on here?" he asks, his eyes narrowing as he takes in the situation.

Both you and Sukuna fall silent, caught off guard by Gojo's sudden arrival.

"Oh- sensei.. I was just telling myself off."

Gojo raises an eyebrow, scrutinizing the scene in front of him. He chuckles softly, shaking his head. "You know, Y/N," he begins, "I have some work that can only be done by you."

You glance at him questioningly, curiosity piqued.

Gojo continues, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Can you buy some mochi and bring them to my room tonight? I will be busy the whole day, at night I might crave some kikufukus" he requests, proffering his card.

Confused, you accept the offer, nodding in agreement. Sukuna protests in your mind, but you choose to ignore him. This request might be strange, but you want to make amends with Gojo.

"Sure thing," you reply, taking his card.

Gojo smiles, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Thank you, Y/N. I appreciate it."

As he leaves, you can't help but feel a mix of confusion and uncertainness. You're determined to make things right.

Gojo's smile lingers, a hint of mischief in his eyes as he departs. It's almost as if he's leaving a challenge behind.

Sukuna's mouth appears on your cheek, scolding you. "Are you serious? You're going to buy him mochi and take them to his room at night?" His words sting, revealing his jealous undertones. "You won't go. That old man is up to something."

You consider his words, uncertainty creeping in. However, you decide to trust Gojo, despite his enigmatic behavior. "I know him," you assure him. "He is not like that."

Sukuna growls, his displeasure clear, but you brush aside his protestations.

In the evening, you purchase mochi and start munching on them as you walk. "Gojo wouldn't mind if I ate some of them right?" you ask, playfully.

Sukuna is still seething, his voice tinged with annoyance. "You're being a servant for him," he snaps. "I can't believe he's so ridiculous. I'm getting a bad vibe from this."

You chuckle, teasing him. "Is it because you're jealous, huh? Finally, you care about me?"

Sukuna's laughter rings in your mind. "No, brat. Just because you're my vessel doesn't mean you're mine to protect."

His words are a mix of annoyance and... maybe a hint of affection and possessiveness? You can't quite tell.

Despite his protestations, you continue to enjoy your mochi, feeling a sense of accomplishment.

"Well, Gojo sensei.. Is not bad at all," you retort, defending Gojo.

Sukuna snorts, but falls silent. You continue your journey, the evening air cool against your skin.

Suddenly, Sukuna pipes up, his voice teasing, "Do you have a crush on him?"

You freeze, your face heating up at the suggestion. "No way," you mutter, trying to shrug off the thought.

But he persists, his tone mocking. "Oh, come on, Y/N. You're blushing like mad," he teases.

You try to ignore him, but his words linger, sparking a sense of unease within you. "No, it's just the cold," you mumble, wrapping your jacket tighter around you.

Sukuna chuckles, his voice echoing in your mind. "Sure, sure."

Your heart races, the conversation leaving you flustered. "Anyway, let's focus on delivering the mochi," you say, trying to change the subject.

Despite your insistence, the doubt lingers. Do you really like Gojo? You can't shake the feeling that there's something more to this situation.

As you approach Jujutsu High Tech, something stops you in your tracks. You feel a barrier, an invisible wall preventing you from walking forward.

"What...?" You mutter, confusion on your face.

Sukuna hums, his voice filled with amusement. "Looks like we have a special grade on our hands."

Your heart races as you brace for what's coming. This isn't just any ordinary barrier. The weight of the situation sinks in, leaving you feeling both excited and terrified.

With a deep breath, you prepare for the fight ahead. You kick the veil, but it doesn't budge.

"Ugh, fine," you grumble, drawing your cursed energy. "We'll show this thing who's boss."

From the darkness emerges a menacing figure. A special grade curse, shaped like a volcano - Mount Fuji itself. Its black teeth glisten, its skin a pale gray. Atop its head, the volcanic opening fades into a brown hue. A single cycloptic eye gazes at you, sending shivers down your spine. Your eye twitches at the sight.

"He's a strong one, brat," Sukuna warns. "Don't die."

Your heart races as you face this formidable enemy. You brace yourself, preparing for the battle that lies ahead. With a deep breath, you summon your cursed energy, readying for combat. The air crackles with tension, the impending battle hanging heavy in the atmosphere.

You nod, determination etched on your face, "I won't," you vow, your eyes locked on the towering curse before you.

Taking a step forward, you speak, your voice steadfast, "Who are you?" you demand. "And why did you put up this veil?"

The mountain-shaped curse responds, its voice rumbling, "I am Jogo," it declares. "And.. you are the vessel of King of curses?", his black teeth baring at you.

Your heart hammers in your chest. This Jogo seems to know about Sukuna.

You retort defiantly. "What does that have to do with you?"

Jogo's response sends a chill down your spine. "I have a good gift for him," he rumbles.

Your eyes widen, Sukuna in your mind forces you to ask what he has for him. "What is it?" you manage to choke out.

Jogo's voice, deep and resonating, echoes through the air. "A surprise," he teases. "But I'm sure he'll love it."

Your heart races with anticipation and fear. What could this mysterious gift be?

You gulp, the reality of the situation sinking in. This curse is far stronger than anything you've faced. But you know you must defeat him to move past the veil.

You brace yourself, your cursed energy surging.

You struggle to keep up with Jogo's relentless attacks. Despite your best efforts, he effortlessly deflects each one of your moves. His flames scorch your skin, leaving you gasping for breath.

"Defend, brat" Sukuna's voice rumbles in your mind.

You struggle, but he's too strong. The flames burn relentlessly, leaving you gasping for breath.

"Sukuna, help me," you whisper.

Sukuna's voice rings in your mind again, his excitement palpable. "I refuse," he commands. "Seeing you suffer is quite enjoyable."

You can't help but feel a pang of betrayal. Despite his words, you can't give up. With a deep breath, you summon all your strength. "Alright, Sukuna," you mutter through gritted teeth. "I thought you cared for your vessel."

You throw yourself into the fight, every attack more desperate than the last.

Jogo's flames engulf you, his attacks overwhelming. With a final blast, you collapse, your body burning and unconscious.

"You're a pathetic vessel," Sukuna sneers. "Always getting unconscious."

As you lie there, battered and broken, you can't help but wonder if this is the end. The pain is excruciating.

Jogo looms over you, his gaze piercing. He senses Sukuna within you, his interest piqued. "This is for you, Sukuna," he growls, feeding you ten of his fingers.

Your body recoils at the sensation, the power coursing through you. Suddenly, your skin shifts, Sukuna's markings emerging. New eyes form on your cheek, matching those of the cursed king. Your body healing in an instant. Brown scars disappearing, replaced with Sukuna's black marks.

Your body reacts to Sukuna's power surging, the changes overwhelming. Sukuna seizes control, his voice cold and commanding, "You have one second... Move away," he warns.

Jogo retreats hastily. T-this is Sukuna.. A formidable power different to Gojo Satoru.. An overwhelming evil!!, his mind wonders

"You lift your head too high," Sukuna's voice threatening.

Jogo quickly drops to one knee while carefully attempting to avoid enraging Sukuna.

"Do you think kneeling on one knee is enough?" Sukuna sneers. With a thunderous boom, he blasts Jogo's head, leaving him both shocked and scared .

Sukuna's voice cuts through the air, commanding, "Go away," he orders. "I don't want to deal with you now."

Jogo hesitates, then leaves. The veil retreating. His respect for Sukuna apparent.

Sukuna's voice echoes again, "Wake up, brat," he orders. "He's gone now."

INSIDE YOUR BODY, You find yourself in a strange yet familiar place, seated on a grandiose skull-throne with Sukuna. His hand caresses your hair gently.

"You awake?" he inquires softly, his voice rich with power.

Your heart pounds at the closeness. His touch sends shivers down your spine. You swallow hard, feeling a rush of emotions. "Yeah," you murmur, your voice hoarse. Your body reacts, the closeness stirring something deep within you.

"We have to give that old man his mochis," he whispers, his breath warm against your skin.

You nod, your heart pounding. The way he looks at you hints at something else entirely.

His gaze lingers on your face for a moment, before a smile plasters his face. "Brat.. You are so stupid.. How can you love a curse like me?," he speaks, his voice low and sultry.

Your eyes widen as you remember, he can read through your emotions, you gulp. "N-no.. I don't love you.. Y-you are lying."

Sukuna laughs, "You are terrible at lying, Y/N", he lifts your chin making you look into his eyes.

He leans, his lips crash onto yours, the kiss sudden and intense.. His tongue probes your mouth, demanding entry. You're caught off guard, your mind reeling. This kiss is unlike anything you've experienced before.

Your body reacts without your permission, your hands finding their way to his hair, pulling him closer. The taste of him is intoxicating, the passion undeniable.

"Sukuna," you whisper, your voice barely audible.

He pulls back slightly, his gaze piercing. "I'm here," he promises, his voice a whisper. "And I'm not going anywhere."

The intensity of the kiss leaves you breathless. The revelation, confusing and overwhelming. You can't deny the connection between you and Sukuna. But what does it mean?

You look into his eyes, searching for an answer, your heart pounding in your chest.

"I love you too," he murmurs, pulling away slightly. His confession is soft against your lips.

You stare at him, disbelief flooding you. "Can a curse fall in love too?," your eyes tearing, emotions overflowing though you..

His eyes lock onto yours, his expression serious. "I am a curse," he admits. "But that doesn't change how I feel."

Your heart races, his confession sending waves of emotion through you. Sukuna's lips meet yours once again, his kiss tender and full of longing. His confession hangs in the air, the weight of it bearing down on you.

You pull away, your gaze locked on his. "But... how can we be together?"

He smirks, his eyes gleaming. "Why not?" he challenges. "Love knows no bounds."

The gravity of the situation hits you like a freight train. You can feel the connection between you and Sukuna, the undeniable pull.

Your eyes open. You awaken, disoriented and dazed. The veil gone, you're relieved but confused. You sit up, looking around, and spot the bag of mochi on the ground. Crumbs scattered everywhere.

"Dammit," you curse under your breath. You had been so excited to present these to Gojo.

You quickly check the time. It's late, likely too late to return to the store. You could go back tomorrow, but what if they were already closed?

You frown, your heart heavy. The day had taken its toll on you. And now this. Your thoughts wander to Sukuna, your heart racing. The kiss still fresh in your mind. What did that mean? So many questions, so few answers. You sigh, your mind whirling.

You look up towards the sky, hoping for some guidance. The clouds above seem to mock you, offering nothing. You shake your head, determination setting in.

"I will just go to sensei and appologize to him," you mutter to yourself, "What will he think.. I can't even do an easy thing right"

You make your way to Gojo's, his door already wide open. You catch a glimpse of him exiting the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist.

He greets you with a warm smile.

"I didn't get the mochi," you blurt out, your cheeks flushing.

Gojo chuckles, his eyes twinkling. "Okay," he says, his tone understanding.

The day weighed heavily on you, your thoughts a jumbled mess. You look into Gojo's eyes, seeking some comfort. He offers you an understanding look. "I should go now" you whisper, your voice barely audible, turning on your heels to leave.

Gojo moves swiftly, blocking your exit. His gaze soft, concerned. "Wait, where are you going?" he asks, his tone gentle. "I have some wine; do you want to have some?"

You hesitate. You wait for Sukuna's approval, but his voice is silent. You take a chance, your heart heavy. "Sure," you respond, your voice quiet.

Gojo leads you to his bedroom, pouring you a glass of wine. The room dimly lit, cozy. You settle onto his bed, taking a sip from the offered glass. The warmth spreading through you, the alcohol loosening your thoughts.

You glance at Gojo, his eyes studying you. The silence uncomfortable, the tension dissipating. You try not to look at him, but everything about him appears alluring—his toned body, the water droplets cascading down his hair.

"You know, it's alright to make mistakes," he offers, his voice reassuring. "It's how we learn and grow."

You nod, your thoughts straying, Is he hinting at something?

"How was your day?", Gojo speaks again.

You ponder as Gojo inquires about your day, his eyes intent. You ramble, your words slurring. "Was a day... lots of things happened," you slur, the alcohol numbing your senses.

Gojo chuckles, his eyes gleaming. "Seems like it," he remarks, refilling your glass, he genuinely seems interested in your experiences. You both keep talking, the alcohol takes effect, your thoughts growing hazy. Gojo continues to listen to you; he anticipates hearing something out of the ordinary from you, but you skip that section

You continue to drink, the warmth of the liquid spreading through your body. The room spins gently, the edges of your vision blurring.

When you're sufficiently tipsy, Gojo leans in, his voice low and concerned. "Hey Y/N.. Do you know anything about Sukuna?" he asks, his gaze steady.

Your heart races, the question catching you off guard. You stutter, trying to form words. "I-I don't kn-know," you stammer, your eyes widening, your voice quaking..

Gojo nodds solemnly, his expression serious. "You sure? you don't need to hide anything from me you know..", he assures you.

"I-I love him", you confess.

Gojo's face contorts, confusion flickering across his features. He doesn't push, opting not to pursue the topic further. You're not sure how much later, Gojo pounces, pinning you to the bed. His gaze intense, he asks,

"Do you love him more than me?" he queries, his tone low, his gaze searching.

You doubt yourself, and you consistently omit the section addressing your emotions. However, you are truly stuck right now. You always respected Gojo as a teacher, so you never saw him in that perspective. But every time the subject of Gojo comes up, something within of you flares up. You remember how you blushed furiously when Sukuna questioned if you were crushing on Gojo. Perhaps you have genuine feelings for him. However, what about Sukuna? He is the only one your soul desires. However, your thoughts. It craves Gojo. You can't decide between them.

You freeze, his question hanging heavy in the air. Your mind whirs, your thoughts muddled. "s-senseii..," you mumble, your words slurred. Your mind reels, the realization hitting you like a freight train. The alcohol clouding your judgment, your emotions swirling.

What are you feeling? Gojo? Sukuna? Your mind races, your heart pounding in your chest. Your thoughts a jumbled mess.

Gojo's eyes search yours, his face etched with concern. "It's alright," he soothes, his fingers gently brushing your cheek.

"You don't have to answer now," he whispers, his voice gentle, his touch tender. "Let me show you how much better I am than him."

His touch sends shivers down your spine, your heart racing. You stare into his eyes, your emotions overwhelming. His care, his concern, the weight of it all bearing down on you.

You lean into his touch, seeking his warmth, his comfort. Your heart aches, your thoughts a whirlwind. As his fingers trace your face, you can't help but question your feelings.

Who do you love more? Gojo or Sukuna?

Gojo's lips meet yours, his kiss gentle yet insistent. His touch, however, is insistent, as his fingers navigate inside your shirt, kneading your breasts. You gasp softly, your mind reeling from the sudden sensation. His touch is tender, yet firm, igniting a fire within you.

You moan softly, the sound muffled by Gojo's lips. His kisses become more fervent, his touch more demanding. You can feel his arousal growing, pressing against you. His hands continue to explore, his fingers tracing your curves.

Your heart races, your breath quickens. His touch is intoxicating, overwhelming. You can feel your body responding, your nerves tingling. Arousal courses through you, your mind swimming in lust and confusion. Gojo pulls away, his eyes locked onto yours. The intensity of his gaze, his expression, leaves you breathless.

"You want this, don't you?" he asks, his voice hoarse, his eyes blazing with desire.

You nod, your heart pounding in your chest. You do want this, crave it. But what about Sukuna? Your thoughts whirl, your emotions a tempest.

Gojo smirks, his eyes gleaming, "I'll take that as a yes," he growls, his voice low, his gaze searing.

He ravages you then, his lips and hands exploring every inch of your body. His touch is possessive, claiming, the pleasure intense.

Inside your body, Sukuna sits on his throne, his thoughts bitter. "Can't believe I fell for such an insolent wench," he mutters to himself, his voice cold and distant. However.. You are deaf to Sukuna's remarks, too preoccupied with fantasies of Gojo fucking you.

Within the warmth of Gojo's embrace, the coldness of Sukuna's words fades. Your heart beats wildly, your body trembling.

Gojo's hands deftly work the buttons on your shirt, your bra soon joining it on the floor. Your chest revealed, your breathing ragged. His fingers trace patterns on your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

His hands glide down, unzipping your pants, pulling them off along with your panties. The cool air hits your bare skin, your core pulsating with desire.

You gasp, the sensation unexpected. His eyes meet yours, locked in a heated gaze. The intensity of his stare ignites a fire within you, your heart pounding.

The world around you fades, your thoughts consumed by Gojo. His touch, his warmth, his love. You seek him, your desire for him undeniable.

As he positions himself above you, your heart races. The weight of your feelings, the whirlwind of emotions.

Again it hits you.. Who do you love? Gojo or Sukuna?

You're so lost in the thoughts that eyes, you did not notice Gojo slipping his fingers inside your wetness, you gasp in response.

You were so engrossed in your own thoughts that you failed to notice Gojo slipping his fingers inside your wetness, you gasp in response. His eyes narrows, "Are you a virgin?" he inquires, his tone heavy. Your mind blanks, your gaze locked on his.

You don't respond, your focus shifting to his eyes. The intensity of his gaze, his desire. His smirk grows, his confidence unwavering. With a fluid motion, Gojo discards his towel. Your eyes widen, taking in his naked form. His muscles rippling, his body taut, ready.

His eyes never leaving yours, he positions himself above you. A sense of vulnerability washes over you, your heart pounding.

Gojo positions himself, his tip pressing against your entrance. Your breath hitches, anticipation coursing through your veins. With a slow, deliberate movement, he enters you, stretching you wide.

He thrusts, his pace steady, his rhythm unhurried. Each movement sends waves of pleasure coursing through you, your body responding. Your hips buck, meeting his thrusts, your moans echoing in the room.

His mouth finds your neck, his teeth grazing your skin, his breath hot against your flesh. Your eyes roll back in pleasure, your mind a disorganised mess. You want him, crave him, your desire for Gojo insatiable.

"G-gonna cum," you stammer, your voice hoarse, your mind lost in the moment.

His movements grow more urgent, his thrusts harder. Your body responds, your hips writhing, your moans growing louder. The pleasure overwhelming, your thoughts a whirlwind.

Your emotions tangled, your feelings entwined. As Gojo fills you, his body moving in sync with yours, you realize a truth. You can't choose. You love them both, equally. Your heart aching, your soul torn. But in this moment, you crave for Gojo's touch.

Your moans fill the room, your pleasure mounting. Gojo's mouth moves, his lips grazing your nipples, his praise whispered into your ear. "So good," he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. "You feel amazing. So tight, so warm."

His words ignite a fire within you, your body shaking. Your pleasure reaches a crescendo, your senses heightened.

And then, you climax. Your body trembling, your moans echoing. The intensity of your release, your heart races. Your eyes slowly closing, the last thing you see is Gojo's face, his blue eyes piercing you as if he could see through you and every lie you have ever told him.

Gojo pulls out, his expression morphing into a frown. His disappointment evident, his eyes filled with concern. He expected to cum together, but..

You're out of it, your body limp, your breathing ragged. He wonders if it's from the pleasure or exhaustion.

"You're tired," he says softly, his voice laced with concern. "It's okay. I understand."

His words soothe you, his care comforting. You're tired, your mental and physical state strained. Your encounters with Sukuna and the constant stress weigh heavily on you.

It's true that you tend to pass out more often. The toll of your double life starting to catch up.

But as you lay there, catching your breath, Gojo's eyes linger on you. His gaze filled with concern and understanding.

In that moment, a thought strikes your subconscious mind. Maybe it's okay to let go. To allow your walls to crumble, your secrets to surface. Because you know that Gojo will catch you, that he'll always be there to hold you.

Gojo lets out a heavy sigh, his gazed fixed on the bathroom door, thinking of finishing there. His shaft still erect, his need undeniable.

But one thing keeps coming up in his mind. One thing he truly knows for sure.. Sukuna. His presence, an uninvited guest. In your body, hidden away, his influence undeniable.

As Gojo turns away, lost in his thoughts, Sukuna seizes the opportunity. He quickly and quietly takes over your body and in a swift move, he strikes Gojo in the neck. The force unexpected, Gojo's body dropping to the ground, his eyes wide in shock.

The mistake, clear as day. His infatuation with you, his protection of you. All of it, an invitation for Sukuna to act. His once dormant presence, now awakened. And in his wake, chaos.

As Gojo lies unconscious, his body sprawled on the ground, Sukuna watches in triumph, " FInally... I killed you Gojo Satoru.. "

"You were maginifient. but a simple distraction made you lifeless", Sukuna continues laughing at Gojo's dead body.

As Sukuna admires himself, his eyes drift to Gojo's body again.. But to his surprise, Gojo moves, swiftly and powerfully. His reverse-curse technique a potent shield, his body repairing instantly.

"No way, I killed him.." Sukuna mutters, his surprise evident, " I didn't think he had it in him."

Sukuna observes the scene, his eyes sharp. Gojo heals from the blow, his body regaining its strength. Sukuna grudgingly acknowledges Gojo's strength, his resilience. The Reverse Cursed Technique, a force to be reckoned with.

This is far from over...

"You made a grave mistake," Gojo whispers before standing up again, his fingers crossing and his voice taunting, "Ryoiki Tenkai"

Instantly, a massive black hole materializes around Sukuna, its gravity inescapable. Distant galaxies swirl in the backdrop, their white patches a stark contrast to the darkness surrounding them.

Gojo's aura flares up, his power radiating, "Now.. Now," he starts walking towards Sukuna.

Sukuna stands frozen, unable to move, his eyes fixed on the swirling void around him. His initial shock turns into a smirk, his voice taunting, "The brat won't survive in this domain if I let go of control of her body."

Gojo approaches, his aura crackling, his expression grim. "I know that," he says, his tone deadly serious. "The question is, will you let her die?"

Sukuna's response is immediate, a dismissive 'tsk.' Gojo knows his weakness, his feelings for you, an Achilles' heel.

Sukuna sneers, "And if I die, the brat dies. Tell me, Gojo, will you let her die?" His voice drips with malice, his intent clear.

Gojo doesn't flinch, his response firm, "No, but..." He takes a step closer, his gaze locked on Sukuna.

In a swift motion, Gojo knocks down Sukuna, "I can do this.." Immediately Gojo's lips presses against Sukuna's. Your body reacts, your core moistens with desire, making Sukuna feeling exposed, vulnerable.

Sukuna unwillingly admits defeat, but he can't help but blame your body for this turn of events. Its allure, its responsiveness, its desire. All of it, pulling him in, ensnaring him. A blush creeping up his cheeks.

Gojo's fingers trace the sensitive spot, his touch expert, your clit throbbing under his fingertips. Sukuna's expression shifts, his face a canvas of pleasure and surprise.

"Feeling it?," Gojo taunts Sukuna, his voice gravelly. His tone, dripping with lust. He can't deny the pleasure coursing through him, its intensity undeniable.

Gojo smirks, his grip firm, "Yes, Sukuna?," his voice low, "You can't deny it." His touch, his words, they're both a torment and a seduction. His eyes never leaving Sukuna, his intent clear. He wants to break him, to shatter his defiance, his resolve.

Gojo's fingers reach up to your neck, tightening around it, the pressure building. Sukuna's eyes potrays his anger, but your body betraying him..

Your feminine body, along with Sukuna's claim on it, has an opposite effect on Gojo. His shaft hardens once more. He smirks bringing his shaft towards your face, his grip firm on your throat. "If you don't play along, I won't allow this body to have any orgasm," he growls, his voice low and dangerous.

His threat hangs heavy in the air, Sukuna's curses ringing out, barely audible. Gojo watches, his eyes darkening, as Sukuna reluctantly wraps your lips around his shaft.

"Pervert," Sukuna mumbles, his voice strained, as Gojo's hand strokes your hair, guiding you.

Gojo's hand travel to your core, his fingers delving inside you, their intrusion sending waves of pleasure through your body as well as Sukuna. Sukuna struggles to suppress his moan, his body trembling, his release near.

The vibrations from your throat, slick with saliva, drive Gojo wild. His grip tightens on your head, his thrusts growing more erratic, more forceful. He's pushing you beyond your limits, his cock sliding deeper into your throat, making Sukuna gag and his eyes turn teary.

"Fuck, Sukuna," Gojo rasps, "I never thought you were this horny." His voice drips with amusement, his eyes gleaming with pleasure. "Look at you, drooling around my cock..."

Sukuna's anger reaches its peak, his eyes flashing. He attempts to sink his fangs into Gojo's shaft, but his plan is thwarted. Gojo yanks your hair, pulling his dick from your mouth, his expression turning cold.

Gojo positions you on all fours, your core gushes, slick and shiny, your thighs reflecting the light. Sukuna curses you under his breath, his words laced with resentment and excitement, "Y/N.. With a body like this, you are nothing more than a whore..."

Before he can act, Gojo surges forward, driving into you with a force that leaves Sukuna gasping. Pain mixes with pleasure, a sensation Sukuna has never experienced before. "W-what do you think you are doing?", Sukuna asks his voice angry.

"Making this pussy, cum", Gojo wishpers against his hears, Sukuna's breath catches, his body writhing in pleasure. The pain, the pleasure, the intensity of it all, overwhelming him. His curses, muffled, directed at your responsive, traitorous body.

Gojo thrusts into you, his movements determined, calculated. He taunts Sukuna further, his voice low and rough, "It seems like you're enjoying it, Sukuna. Doesn't it feel good? To be filled like this?"

"F-fuck this.. I am only doing it for Y/N", Sukuna replies trying to muffle his moans. It feels too good, Sukuna never thought sex feels this good. It is embarassing yet he feels this good.

Gojo's thrusts become brutal, each one shaking Sukuna, your body alive with sensation. His hands find your nipples, pinching them, the pain a sharp contrast to the pleasure flooding through Sukuna.

"Stop, Gojo!" Sukuna cries out, his voice strained, your body writhing in intensity.. But the pleasure, it's too much, too intense. It overwhelms Sukuna, leaving him desperate for more, for release.

Gojo smirks, his hands moving lower, his fingers brushing against your sensitive spots. "Why don't you let go of control of her body?" he taunts, his voice low and seductive.

Sukuna remains silent, his defenses crumbling under Gojo's skilled touch. His words, his actions, they cut deeper than any blade. "That's right," Gojo continues, his voice softening, "Because you are liking it.. Isn't it s'kuna?"

"Shut up!! I-its because I love her, and I don't want her to die in your stupid domain..", Sukuna grits his teeth, but his resistance soon fading, when Gojo's fingers dance over your clit.

An unintentinally moan slips out of Sukuna's mouth, to which Gojo responds, "Ah, I liked it, but couldn't it be more lady-like, like Y/N's moan?"

Sukuna bites his lip, his pride wounded, the King of Curses, being taken by a mere human. His thoughts tangled, lost in the haze of pleasure. But the feeling, the sensation, it's unlike anything he's ever experienced. This body, his lover's body, it brings out sensations he never knew existed. He's helpless, consumed by the pleasure, his senses heightened, every stroke, every touch, magnified.

He can't fight it anymore, his defenses crumbling under the onslaught of sensations. The sounds, the touch, the warmth, all of it, pulling him in, drawing him closer to the edge. And he lets go, surrendering to the pleasure coursing through him, his moans echoing in the room.

Satoru speaks again, his eyes alight with mischief. "Well, well, it seems our little game has become interesting," he says, his voice dripping with amusement. "

He positions your body on your back, the angle shifting, changing, giving Sukuna a new perspective. Sukuna could see everything.. His breath catching, as Gojo's hips begin to move, your body stretched, filled. The way your hole swallows his girth, it's intoxicating.

"You look so... fuckable," he says, his voice low and sultry. He reaches out, his hand tracing down your stomach, further, his touch delicate.

"I wonder what Y/N would say if she knew you looked like this, with me inside you," he muses, his eyes locked onto yours. His grin wicked, "But then again, she wouldn't mind, would she?" His thumb brushing against your clit, Sukuna's breath hitches, your hips bucking of their own accord.

Sukuna can feel it, the intensity, the passion, the sheer force of his desire. Everything feels heightened, amplified, his senses sharp. He's never felt so vulnerable and weak before. It's very confusing, everything is so confusing right now.

Gojo leans in, his lips seeking yours, his kiss hungry and demanding. Unexpectedly, Sukuna returns it, his kiss equally fervent. Your walls clench around Gojo, your body signaling its need.

As the kiss breaks, Sukuna's voice unsteady, "Cum inside this pussy," he speaks, his eyes pleading.

Gojo smirks, "Begging?" He mocks, his thrusts slowing, teasing.

Sukuna nods shyly, his cheeks flushed.

"What if she becomes pregnant?" Gojo asks, his voice a low rumble.

"As long as I reside in her body," Sukuna stutters, his voice tinged with vulnerability, "she will not."

Gojo nods, his eyes darkening. He quickens his thrusts, his movements more urgent, more forceful.

As your body reaches the peak, his thrusts become erratic, his words, his touch, they all blend together. "C-close," Sukuna gasp out, your body trembling, your walls clamping down on Gojo.

"Then let go, Sukuna," Gojo growls, his voice raw.

"Y/N and I," Sukuna starts, his voice low and dangerous. "We have a connection. She means something to me..."

Gojo's thrusts nearly pausing, his eyes locking onto Sukuna's. "Sukuna.. You are nothing but an echo in a vessel, a parasite clinging onto life. Yet.. I can stop feeling attracted to this mixture of you and Y/N" He doesn't give Sukuna time to react, his thrusts pounding into you.

"You... bastard", Sukuna groans. Gojo chuckles, latching himself on one of your breasts.

Sukuna moans as he feels Gojo's tongue dancing around your nipple, teasing, tantalizing.

Both reach climax, the intensity of it all, it's blinding. Your body erupts, your walls clamping down, milking him, drawing out his release. Sukuna's moans, mixing with Gojo's grunts. He groans before releasing his seed into your womb.

And then, as suddenly as it began, it ends. The domain dissipates, fading away. Sukuna finds himself on the floor, Gojo above him, his body still pulsing, his release dribbling out of your hole.

Gojo leans down, his voice low, dangerous, "As long as you are inside her body, Sukuna, you will always crave me," he says, his eyes locked onto yours. "You may hate it, resist it, but it will always be there, a constant reminder of your weakness, your dependency."

Sukuna's heart races, his mind spinning, his emotions a tangled mess. He can feel it, the truth in Gojo's words. It's a twisted game, a sick joke, one that he's not sure he wants to play.

Gojo goes on, "You may think you own her soul, but remember who owns her body, her pussy." he haults to give a soft slap on your clit, making Sukuna jolt. "I am the honoured one, the strongest" .

But then again, he knows he has no choice. Not really. So, he grits his teeth before whispering, "Fuck you, bastard" his voice barely audible, before letting go control of your body.

Gojo smirks, his eyes gleaming with victory as he places your unconscious body on his bed waiting for you to get up again, "Perhaps you can the next time we meet, Sukuna.."

TAGLIST: @moonlightazriel @unholiiness @nyxlai @cocoaxbunny @persephone-lilly @iraa567 @rabbidbunwy @sweetchildcloud @lotus-n-l0ve @smashhed @imhellakawaii @selfloverrrrrr @matchainthemorning @freckledmuffin @palegardenrebel @hellomeow12 @rowrowrowyourboat13 @sanicsmut @lysaray

Dividers from @cafekitsune

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tra1nchi · 12 days

Note

Getting smacked around by an older man for being a brat.

⭐️Anon

hot,,MINORS DNI!! Bttm male reader,, old men yaoi,,stalking,,slapping,,Non c0n,,

College is so lonely,,your roommate was a dick head who always brings home girls to fuck,,sick and tired of their over exaggerated moans as you joined your party over your game!! Smiling as you heard them start to join the call,,

He was one of your party,, pretending to be a college boy when in reality he was in his late forties,,it wasn't like he was unattractive or anything but rather that he wanted to be close to you!!

Ever since you had gave him an extra twenty note when he couldn't afford something at your local store,, he had been stalking your social medias,,and you were so fucking cute and innocent to him!!

He already knew were you lived,,it was easy since you ddint even try to hide your address or you forgot to hide it but he took it as an invitation,,you were inviting him to come and claim what was his,,all his!!

He finally decided tonight was the night,, dressing in dark clothing as he makes his way to your home,,leaving his car on the other side of the block,,knowing exactly where your window was!!

Thinking you'd be compliant and obey him,, only getting frustrated when you started to scream for help!! Whey would you scream? He wont hurt you!!

"Shut up, my love..I'm here." His voice was sogt but his hand wasn't as it sharply hits your cheek,,leaving a clear red mark on your soft face!! Cooing softly at the sight of your tears,,

"Shh darling, you can take it for daddy hm?" He chuckles lowly,,his hot breath hitting your face before he maneuvers you,,gripping your hair as he slaps you some more,, just wanting the pleasure of seeing your tears!!

Shoving himself inside of you without warning!! Holding onto the headboard as he thrusts himself in and out of you,,ignoring your pleas and only hits you when you get too noisy!!

#{anon asks}#{bttm male reader}#bottom male reader #sub male reader #x sub male reader #x bottom male reader #{h4rny ask}#{⭐}

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hattersarts · 9 months

Text

SKETCH PAGES and COLOURED COMMISSIONS are CLOSED

Details on how to submit a commission inquiry below the read more. After sending me an email you will receive a reply with an answer within 72 hours. If you’d like to discuss anything with me beforehand please feel free to dm/email me.

dos: nudity, kissing, heavy making out, ocs, fanart, gore.

donts: heavy mecha.

i am less likely to accept m/f and m/m pairing commissions under 50. (old man yaoi all gucci)

posing: Please feel free to give me a general feel of the pose/expression(s) you would like, i.e if its a couple you’d like them to kiss or be cuddling or if you have any relationship dynamics or personalities you’d like me to know about please include it.

I reserve the right to charge an additional 40% of the commission cost if you require incredibly specific posing of characters i.e. x on y’s lap with one hand round x’s middle and y kissing x’s neck from behind. if your not sure where the line is, please ask im happy to answer any questions!

HOW TO SUBMIT:

commission requests can be sent to hemmoulton (at) gmail.com with the subject heading ‘Commission Aug 23′

CHECK LIST for you in the email:

> the type of commission

> a correct visual reference of all parts of character, purely so you could get the most accurate rendition of them. I am not willing to work with written descriptions but split visual references (i.e. face claim + outfit ref) are more than okay.

> character's personality (not backstory) are they cheerful, serious, playful, etc.

> please include the age the character should look like and if applicable, their heights,

> any posing ideas you might have (hobbies are also great to know!)

Full payment will be accepted upfront and via PayPal invoice that I will send upon accepting the commission.

#commissions

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divine-misfortune · 2 months

Note

perhaps 45 with omega/alpha, if that sounds interesting?

A kiss out of anger from this prompt list.

Btw toxic old man yaoi art by @aweisz if you even care (thank you so much)

Bracing himself only did so much. It didn’t stop him from choking on the wave of dry heat that assaulted him when he opened the door. Omega dutifully swallowed a mouthful of scalding cinder and gripped the doorknob a little tighter, eyes tracking the scorched path Alpha had paced along the length of his room. It would take several hours to polish his anger from the floorboards but he knew no amount of waxing and shining would remove the traces of ash from the wood. Just another scar.

Omega stepped over the threshold. Willingly entered the cage with the spitting, raging demon and closed the door behind him.

Alpha’s eyes were fixed on the floor, hunched over himself. His arms were folded behind his back, clasping his wrist in one hand while the other repeatedly curled in and out of a fist. Omega ran his tongue over the back of his teeth, finding himself subconsciously mimicking his posture with a well trained rigidity. Steel spined, shoulders squared, hands folded neatly. There was a practiced sense of pride that he couldn’t give up, even now, even when he should be curling in on himself in shame.

“Understand?” He interrupted, sparks sputtering from between his teeth. Restrained anger that Omega didn’t deserve the kindness of. “Where the fuck do you get off taking matters into your own hands like this? You have no right to speak on my behalf, to call me and my capability into question, no fucking right Meg!”

“Alpha,” Omega began without knowing where he was going. If there was even a point to opening his mouth he had yet to find it. He debated a step forward but his body refused to budge and carry him closer to the fire ghoul. “You have to understand-”

“I’m not questioning your capability,” he tried to start again, nails digging into his palm behind his back as he tried to gather himself. Beyond scattered, he found himself grasping blindly for the right wording - searching for the sincerity Alpha deserved but his shallow inhale left too much of a pregnant pause that Alpha took as a chance to continue spitting.

“Oh but you did, you did the second you breathed a word of retirement to clergy. They’re all looking at me differently, like I’m useless. You seem to think I can’t do my fucking job, so what is it?” The question comes out serrated, sharp and ripping through him. “What’s this really about?”

Alpha finally looked at him. Crimson eyes gone dull, the raging fire he’d fallen in love with had burned down to low embers and the guilt jabs him in the gut.

Smoke billowed from the corners of his snarl and Omega found himself grateful for the awful heat filling the room, like the judgmental fires of hell were finally catching up to him. He hoped he burned, at the hands of Alpha or unholy retribution. Perhaps it was a deserved punishment in the end, his unwelcomed overstepping finally leading him to the cliff's edge.

“I’m worried about you.”

Closer now, Omega noticed the twitch of discomfort in Alpha’s face as he stepped forward again. The way his body moved was jerky for a passing second like he was flinching from his own weight on his right leg. Another stab, higher, a knife between his ribs. Closer now, Alpha had never felt further away from him. Despite being in arms reach, there were miles between them.

“Worried about me? You're worried about me?”

“You can't expect me to just sit and watch you-”

“Be honest, this is about Terzo isn't it?”

“Alpha.”

“No, no. It makes sense, it makes a lot of fucking sense when you think about it.” He's close, close enough Omega can feel the heat of his shaky breathing. “You don't think I'm good enough to stand by him anymore, do you? Do I tarnish your humans shiny appearance? Shouldn't surprise me that his image matters more to you-”

“For the love of everything unholy. Alpha, no. Would you just listen to me?”

“Oh yes, yes, of course I should listen. Omega knows best.” He threw his hands up with a laugh of disbelief. Omega couldn't stop his face from screwing up in irritation. “I don't know why I’m wasting my breath here, it’s clear you don’t care about me or a word I say.”

The accusation knocked the wind from his sails, impeccable posture beginning to sag. First in the shoulders and then his arms fell back to his sides, hands curling into fists to hide the shake to them. Alpha scoffed as the quintessence ghoul opened his mouth to argue but couldn’t seem to find the words. Dismissive. He looked tired, years of being beaten into submission and pushing well past his limits taking their toll. Ice crept into his veins, a chilled numbness spreading from the tips of his fingers to his core - he couldn’t place if it was guilt or his own particular brand of rage.

Alpha began to stalk past him, floorboards squeaking shrilly under his step like nails on a chalkboard. He grit his teeth, jaw creaking in kind as he turned and grabbed the other ghoul by the arm. There came the beginnings of a growl but Omega knew it was all bark, that there would never have been a real bite behind it, so he pushed. He pushed Alpha the few steps backwards till his back hit the door too hard, and he’d apologize later, but he chased the nerve he’d managed to scrounge up.

His skin was scalding as Omega grabbed his face roughly, surging forward to mold his mouth to Alpha’s before he could bite off another sharp word. The fire ghoul made a choked off sound of surprise, head thumping against the wood. His lips were rough, overly worried raw by well filed fangs, and Omega ached somewhere in his ribs at the familiarity. Months, it had been months since he'd felt Alpha against him and he hadn’t realized how much he missed it. Missed him.

Tobacco and communion wine. Omega was sure Alpha had stolen it from the chapel and downed the bottle in an attempt to quell his anger but it hardly seemed to do the trick given where they found themselves.

He braced a hand against Omega’s broad chest, not exactly pushing him away, it felt like another vye for physical contact. A quiet admission of how much Alpha missed this all the same. One kiss hardly felt like enough to convey himself, but as he flicked his tongue over the seam of his lips and Alpha reluctantly let him in, it felt like a start. The best he could do so suddenly.

Slipping into his mouth, Alpha groaned lowly and leaned fully against the closed door, curling his fingers into the front of the other ghoul’s uniform to drag him all that much closer. Flames seemingly extinguished, the heat beneath his palms began to ebb back to a comfortable warmth and Omega let up a bit, opting to cradle his face instead of grab. Offer him a touch of tenderness, it was the least he could do.

That clever forked tongue forced past his teeth and sought to lick the soured ash from his mouth.

It was a moment he wished they could stay suspended in forever, reminiscent of their younger days where every spare moment they could steal together was passion fueled and driven by sparks. Alpha’s warm breath tickled against his cheek with every pleasured sigh, neither of them managing to quiet a single grateful sound.

He started to pull back, managing an inch before changing his mind. Pressing forward for another far more chaste kiss, hating the idea of it ever truly ending.

“Alpha…” The quintessence ghoul started, stroking a thumb over the cut of his cheek, eyes flicking from his spit shined lips to his almost glassy eyes. They refocused a bit more with every sluggish blink. “Alpha, love, I’ve never doubted you or your ability to perform for a minute, but I worry about how hard you push yourself.”

He found himself frowning despite the previous giddy flutter of his heart.

“You might be immortal, but your vessel is not.” Omega smoothed his hands down Alpha’s front, pausing over his chest to just feel his pulse and the labored breaths he took. “You’re not a young ghoul anymore, and I know you don’t want to admit it…So I admitted it for you. I know it wasn’t my place but I couldn’t sit and watch you work yourself to the bone.”

“Megs,” Alpha sighed, brow furrowing. “Why didn’t you talk to me?”

“Because I know you, and I know you’d never go quietly.” He chuckled though there was no real humor there, tinged by something sad. “We only have so much time left on the surface, and the idea of not spending the rest of it with you at my side is agonizing. I just wanted you to come back to me and not worry about you leaving again, always coming back in worse shape than you left in…You’re making me go gray from all the worrying I have to do.”

It was Alpha’s turn to laugh. A sort of snort, actually amused unlike his previous attempt. Omega tipped his forehead against his, wanting to melt into him and his comforting warmth.

“I’m sorry, my light. I would never do something like this to slight you, you know that, right?”

“...Yeah, yeah I do.”

#i did not proof read this oishdios #they love each other theyre both just stubborn and dont know how to talk abt their feelings #writing #answered #void writing #nameless ghouls #alpha ghoul #omega ghoul #alpha/omega #alpha x omega #omega/alpha #omega x alpha #the band ghost #ghost the band #the band ghost ficlet

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nieves-de-sugui · 11 months

Text

A Quick History of BL

As someone who wrote a thesis on this very subject a few years ago, here is the short version of how BL has evolved throughout the years. For the new comers ❤

a minute of silence for the original form of this post that tumblr decied to not save right after I saved it

I am going to go with a chronological approach. Unfortunately, I cannot put everything in one post so if there’s any questions about this or that aspect of the history of BL that you want to know and it’s not talked about here, you are welcome to ask me directly :)

Context and influences - Japan in the 60′s

Before the US forced Japan to open its borders to the outside world in the 1800s, homosexual practices were common place between budist monks, samurais and kabuki actors. During the Edo period (1600s to 1800s) there was a very rich amount of poetry, art, books (such as Nanshoku Okagami (The Great Mirror of Male Love) by Ihara Saikaku) and codes of conduct about how to have a good master/aprentice relationship, kinda like the greeks if you know what I mean. However, with the arrival of western influences, in order to become a more “civilized” country, it was all put in the closet.

Yet, in the 60′s Japan started to pick it up again through literature about young androginous beautiful boys (aka bishounen). On one hand, in 1961, the novel Koibitotachi no Mori (A Lover’s Forest) by Mari Mori was published. It tells the story of a young and beautiful 19 year old worker and a half french half japanese aristocrat, and their tragic romance. On the other hand, Taruho Inagaki wrote Shounen ai no Bigaku (The esthetics of boy-love), an essay on aesthetic eroticism (of which he wrote a lot of). All this was know as Tanbi (lit. aesthetic) literature. It generally refered to literature with implied homosexuality and homoeroticism such as works by Oscar Wilde, Jean Cocteau, etc. And of course, Mori and Inagaki.

In chinese tanbi is read as danmei (term used to refer to BL novels in china today, ie: The Untamed it’s all connected friends).

From the birth of Shonen Ai to Yaoi - 70′s to the late 80′s

Around the beginning of the 70′s, shoujo was being revolutionized by the Year 24 Group, a generation of women manga authors (mangaka) who started to explore new themes. Among them, their interest in tanbi gave birth to a new subgenre: Shounen ai.

Their most known manga were:

Kaze to Ki no Uta (The Ballad of the Wind and Trees) by Keiko Takemiya, and Toma no Shinzo (The Heart of Thomas) by Moto Hagio

Their stories are characterized by having suffering eurpoean bishounen in boarding schools, living an idealized perfect love (meaning passionate) that, despite the tragic end of one of them, lives forever in the other.

As this genre starts getting popular, more and more fans of these stories start making their own self published manga, aka doujinshi, of the genre. It is around this time that the term Yaoi is coined. Meaning “YAma nashi, Ochi nashi, Imi nashi” (no climax, no fall, no meaning). Basically PWP fanfiction, for the most part. Doujinshis could be considered an equivalent of fanfiction in manga form. It is also here that the term Fujoshi (aka Rotten Girl, for liking rotten things) starts being used to refer to women readers of yaoi.

With this rise in popularity come the start of the commercialization of the genre. Which meant the publication of magazines dedicated solely to yaoi/shonen ai/BL. The most popular yaoi manga magazine at the time was June. The common trait of their stories being the therapeutic power of the love between the mains. The traumatized character would heal throught this newfound love.

Most of the stories at this time happened in the West (Europe or the States) as the exploration of these dark themes intertwined with homosexual romance and homoeroticism still feel safer to explore as a foreign concept. One example would be Banana Fish (1985).

Commercialization and Yaoi Ronso - 90′s

As more publishing houses pick the genre up, the term Boys Love is used to include every type of manga about homosexuality made for women.

The increasing amount of BL series sees a changes in its themes:

the start of the “gay for you” trope where one mantains their heterosexuality despite being in a homsexual relationship,

the uke/seme dynamic (mirroring hetero realtionships) also relating to physical appearence (one being more feminine, the other being more masculine),

the use of rape as an act love (sexual violence has always been present but here it becomes a staple),

anal sex as the only type of sex,

older and more masculine men start to appear

they now happen in Japan

Good examples of the presence of these themes in manga are Gravitation (1996) or Yatteranneeze (1995).

However in 1992, Masaki Sato (a gay activist/drag queen) wrote a letter in a small scale feminist magazine attacking yaoi and pointing out how it “represented a kind of misappropriation or distortion of gay life that impacted negatively upon Japanese gay men”. The female readers of yaoi responded, defending the genre as a means to escape gender roles and explore sexual themes that was never meant to represent the realities of gay men. This is know as the Yaoi Ronso (Yaoi Debates).

The debate ended with both sides understanding more of each other, with mangakas starting to include queer views in their works. It also started the academic reasearch of BL.

Yet, it is a debate that has been restarted more than once, as it is still relevant despite the evolution of the genre.

more on this on another post

Globalization and coining of BL - 2000′s

By the beginning of the 2000s BL is being sold all over the world (like all manga), and has become a stable industry. We could say it has finally become it’s own genre.

Some of the most well known manga series, to us (in the west), of the time are:

Junjou Romantica 2002 Koi Suru Boukun 2004 Love Pistols 2004 Haru wo Daiteita 1999

all of these have anime adaptations for the curious ones

We also start seeing short anime adaptations or special episodes of the most popular series, with questionable themes, such as: adoptive father x adoptive son (Papa to Kiss in the Dark 2005), father x son’s friend (Kirepapa 2008), etc...

However the themes remain more or less the same. Junjou Romantica’s love story starts with a non-con sex scene by the older one (masc, seme) to the younger one (more feminine, uke) addressed years later in the manga btw. Koi Suru Boukun’s love story is triggered by aphrodisiacs and rape. They’re still very present in the stories but slowly going away. A mangaka that represents this era could be Natsume Isaku (Candy Color Paradox 2010).

Change is slow in Japan. Even though the voices of LGBT+ people started to be taken into account in the genre it is not until later that we see it reflect in the mangas themselves. However, we can already see the start of this in Doukyusei (Classmates) (2006) by Asumiko Nakamura. Also Kinou Nani Tabeta? (2007) which is actually part of a more mature genre: Seinen.

It is my personal (subjective) theory that the BL of this era was the one that got popular outside of Japan, which is why we see lots of references to the themes, tropes and dynamics of this time in today’s BL series.

The LGBTzation of BL and the rise of webtoons - 2010′s to 2020′s

Slowly but surely LGBT characters and themes enter the scene of BL. Existing simultaneously with the previous tropes and themes, we start seeing a shift in these stories. We now see:

characters that identify as gay or some type of queer

discussions about homophobia

more mature themes about life and romance

At the same time as we get the usual love stories with the usual themes, a new trend starts to take over. And we get simultaneously, cute, sometimes questionable but light love stories:

Love Stage 2010 Ashita wa Docchi da! 2011 Kieta Hatsukoi 2019

More profound stories and darker or more complex themes:

Blue Sky Complex 2013 Saezuru Tori wa Habatakanai 2011 (mafias) Given 2013 (suicide) Hidamari ga Kikoeru 2013 (deafness)

And others that adress the queer experience in a more mature way (which might actually fall into the Seinen genre)

Itoshi no Nekokke 2010 (slice of life, queer characters) Smells like Green Spirit 2011 (two ways to deal with a homphobic society) Strange 2014 (relationships between men) Shimanami Tasogare 2015 (an LGBT group helps a closeted gay) Old Fashioned Cupcake 2019 (you know this one 😉) Bokura no Micro na Shuumatsu 2020 (the end of the world)

As queer stories are explored, BL mangakas and mangakas from other genres start to consider more stories about queer people such as the Josei Genderless Danshi ni Aisaretemasu (My Androgynous Boyfriend) (2018) by Tamekou, or the Shoujo Goukon ni Itarra Onna ga Inakatta Hanashi (The story of when I went to a mixer and there were no women) (2021) by Nana Aokawa.

Still, we can see two realities live side by side. Doukyuusei gets adapted into an impactful animated movie in 2016, meanwhile Banana Fish gets an anime adaptation that keeps the homoeroticism but not the homosexuality.

For those who might be interested. Here are some of the authors that represent the first half of this era, where they start to include newer points of view:

Scarlet Beriko, HAYAKAWA Nojiko, KURAHASHI Tomo, OGERETSU Tanaka, Harada, KII Kanna (Stranger by the Sea), etc...

And authors that while keeping classical themes break the stereotypes in a subtle manner:

CTK, ZAKK, Jyanome, Cocomi, Hidebu Takahashi, SUZUMARU Minta, etc...

Mangakas also no longer stick to one genre only. They explore whichever of them they want, from BL to Seinen to others.

ie: Tamekou,

or Asumiko Nakamura

The curious case of Webtoons

With the digitalization of mangas, throught Renta and Lehzin, it has become easier (and more expensive) to access these stories. Korea makes and appearence with their webtoons. Through the lack of piracy protections and the majority of them being digital, manhwa (korean webtoons) sees a rise in popularity. Through the digital medium the influencee can be the influencer.

However, like many other East Asian countries they have consumed BL, without hearing about the conversations about BL. So they end up mantaining the older themes and stereotypes that newer BL is trying to leave behind. Therefore, we end up with a mix of old and new, ie:

Killing Stalking 2016 Cherry Blossoms After Winter 2017 Painter of The Night 2019

Additionally, it is also thanks to the easy access to internet that Omegaverse, with its higher dramatic stakes (that parallel hetero dynamics), enters the mangasphere in 2016. It has grown in popularity ever since.

With the Thai BL Boom of 2020, Japan rediscovers its own BL market and starts investing in it more. Which is why we get live action adaptations of BL manga that was popular years ago (Candy Color Paradox was a manga from 2010), the more recent ones (The End of the World With You) or new anime adaptations (Saezuru Tori wa Habatakanai in 2020).

more on this in my japanese live action BL post

What has it become now? is it BL? ML? or Seinen? Or is it all just gay manga?

It is clear that Shoujo manga (with BL, Josei and Seinen) is exploring queer themes such as gender and sexuality more and more. Japan is interested in this conversation, not only in manga (Genderless fashion). Which brings up the current question in BL studies: Does it make sense to keep these categories?

As a response to BL, ML (Male Love), which is made by gay men for gay men, started happening (around the 70s too). And Bara (gay manga porn) in response to Yaoi. However both gay men and women read BL and ML. We also see other themes being explored through BL, such as friendship (in BL Metamorphose), food (in Kinou Nani Tabeta), male relationships of all kinds (in Strange), and different queer views on life and its challenges (in Shimanami Tasogare). More and more what is LGBT and what is BL is merging, the line is blurred.

Conclusion

BL has been in my life for longer than it hasn't. It is through shoujo and BL that I have come to understand people and romance.

It is flawed, like everything else this life, but it's flourishing in many ways.

The genre feels old and new at the same time.

We can still find shounen ai/tanbi elements in more modern manga (All About J). Or the gay for you in a new light (Itoshi no Nekkoke). Or more educational manga on queer issues (My Brother’s Husband by Gengoroh Tagame). BL has around 50 years of existence but it is also being born anew in Thailand and Korea.

BL manga will continue to evolve in acordance to Japanese tastes, as it is still a local market. Hopefully the korean webtoons that get popular will be the more daring ones in their themes. Who knows where it will go from here? The only thing we know for sure is that it will continue to change. Isn't it exciting?

A post on the evolution of live action BL in Japan is coming, to complement this post. As well as a more detailed explanation of the Yaoi Debates and gay manga.

#history of bl #bl post series #I feel like I left too much stuff out #I hope it makes sense #honestly I would really recommend reading some of those manga #they're super interesting #soon it'll be 20 years since I started reading BL #my gosh #if theres anything anyone wants to know more about #I'd love to write more :)#yaoi manga #bl manga

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sapphixxx · 5 months

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there's a lot of reasons more people aren't into yuri that are troubling to consider, but equally, I genuinely think it cannot be understated how much of it comes down to most yuri being boring as hell. Like truly. I've been reading the front page of Dynasty Scans like it was the newspaper for 15 years I am not exaggerating I can show you the download file data 15 years.

You know what the complaint about yuri by yuri readers was back in 2009?

"wow that really was just 5 volumes of them blushing at each other and then they don't even kiss"

You know what the complaint about yuri by yuri readers is today in 2023?

"wow that really was just 5 volumes of them blushing at each other and then they don't even kiss"

Don't get me wrong, Yuri has grown a LOT in that time, to the point that most people today wouldn't even understand a Maria-sama reference if it were dropped in front of them (thank God). It's expanded and evolved to encompass more stories about adult women, wider varieties of scenarios, a greater acknowledgement of real life lesbianism, and is more comfortable showing girls kissing with tongue and having sex.

Yuri Manga is maybe the best is it's ever been, and it's also getting the widest readership it's ever had in the English speaking world. The titles we carry at work are always on back order with long queues, and, when I've asked them, most weebs of all gender or sexualities report keeping up with at least a few Yuri series.

At large though? Most of it is still really boring. That's not a bad thing necessarily. I like it because it goes down easy. For the most part any series you pick is gonna be pretty chill. Even shit from Sal Jiang which is PRETTY EDGY for yuri is a pretty breezy read. More serious ones like How Do We Relationship? cover some pretty real subjects about how intimacy is actually quite difficult even when both of you love each other, but it's not like... Exciting. Yuri isn't where you go to pump your fist or get perched on the edge of your seat.

So when the comparison is made to yaoi, well, I mean, have you READ any yaoi? Even in some of the more restrained titles those boys are likely to be sucking and fucking balls and all within the first volume or two. There's gonna be drama, intrigue, shit is gonna get messy, passions are gonna get heated, clothes are gonna be ripped off, people are gonna get sold to One Direction, it's stuff you can sit down with a bowl of popcorn with you know? Stuff you can message your friend and gush Hey Can You BELIEVE? A lot of it is pretty trashy, but that's the appeal. The generic state of yaoi is torrid and exciting and sexy. Ultimately, as a species many of us like to see pretty people fuck. In yaoi you'll get that. In yuri you won't. Nothing wrong with that, but it is gonna be a major contributing factor to their relative popularity.

It's also worth making the comparison to hetero romance manga, which has undergone a renaissance of it's own in recent years. There's now a whole meta around crafting a handful of mean shitty grouchy dysfunctional bully women and flinging them at the protagonist of the day who, unlike in years past, may actually have a face and personality. Most of these are also very trashy and truly scrape the bottom of the bucket in terms of writing.

AND YET?

I would bet money on the fact that you'll have heard of these women and probably even have a good idea what they're like without ever having touched a page of their manga.

I'm sorry but the straights are whipping donuts around the yuri girls in terms of delivering a wide variety of weird compelling fucked up women. How many yuri leading ladies by comparison can you point to as standout recognizable characters even divorced from their story? There's definitely a few, but not many. I'm not talking quality or depth of writing, I'm talking straight up pure recognizability. There are many beautifully written women in yuri, now more than ever. I can't think of many who'd like, get a figure made or have their face splashed on merch, though.

I don't really have a conclusion here. I love Yuri a lot, but at the end of the day this is just kinda the state of things right now.

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silkscream · 3 months

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CHAPTER 7: TOO YOUNG TO GROW WINGS

ੈ✩ gojo satoru x reader, geto suguru x reader

He needed to learn how to stop being so goddamn obsessive. He’d work on it later, maybe. He’d try not to speak curses into existence from the way he felt about you.

At the moment, he wants to make this good for you. Something like love.

ੈ✩ chapter cw/tags: explicit content (18+ mdni) , unprotected sex, drunk sex, face sitting, blowjobs, cum eating (lol) lots and LOTS of angst, gore, blood, graphic descriptions of injuries, bullying, satoru being......... himself

ੈ✩ wc: 8.8k

ੈ✩ a/n: i wasnt gonna post this but then i was like well. i start a new job on monday so who knows if i'll be able to keep up the weekly update thing. this is also prob my fav chapter so i couldn't hold back OOPS enjoy the yaoi btw <3 title from angel by omar apollo

playlist ✸ read on ao3 ✸ series masterlist

April, 2009

Jujutsu Technical College looks lovely in the springtime—the golden light hits the room in a specific way that makes your body warm. You’re calm, nearly dozing off until three people barge into the classroom, taking up as much space as they can. When you open your eyes, you see Satoru, Suguru, and Shoko smiling at you as they take their seats.

The boys had convinced you to attend (with the help of Shoko) after informing you there was a generous stipend included with your education. Despite the scholarship you’d gotten from the college you’d meant to attend, they had easily persuaded you. You hadn’t had friends you were so close with before, after all.

“Suguru. Switch with her.”

“Huh?”

“Just do it. I want her to sit next to me.”

You lift your head, realizing that Satoru is talking about you. Suguru laughs nonchalantly and stands up to switch with you, and you move to replace him when you notice Satoru’s baby blues searing into your skin. He grins at you brightly as you roll your eyes.

It’s been like this for weeks – Satoru possessing you, claiming you, even though you never ask for it. Truthfully, it pools your stomach with ardor. You’ve never felt as wanted as you do when you were within a close radius of him.

It dwindles eventually when you realize that the boys’ strength is so far beyond yours. In combat, they’re flawless, beautiful in their movements as they spar. You’re happier to watch than join—Shoko thinks the same, often rolling her eyes every time the two of you are assigned to practice hauling cursed energy for the sake of fighting. It’s nice when you can get her alone, studying healing techniques and watching her reversed curse technique grow.

Sometimes, you don’t even know why you’re here. Shoko is talented and you aren’t. You’re useful enough for superficial wounds, but you can’t do a reversed cursed technique. You doubt you could even heal something of a higher caliber than what you’re used to. You fear the prospect of this revelation on a mission that you know Yaga will eventually send you on.

“Do they ever fight over you?” Shoko asks over a cigarette.

“Wh-what?”

“You know,” she drawls, smiling. “Satoru’s such a brat. Suguru is more open when you’re around. They’ve gotta be possessive, right?”

You shrug. You don’t know the extent of what she knows, but you can assume from the boys’ behavior that it was written all over their faces. Satoru’s hand on your waist, Suguru’s point to tower over you. Unspoken proximity wars between them with you in the middle.

“I don’t know about that. They’re overprotective for sure,” you admit, taking a slow drag of her cigarette when she offers.

“Twigs! Not you, too!” Satoru bellows. “Don’t give my girl your cancer sticks, Ieiri!”

Shoko laughs at that, grinning with the cigarette in between her teeth as you fold your hands into your lap.

My girl.

Satoru hovers over you and holds out his hands. Curiously, you take it, which you regret immediately when he pulls your body and hauls you over his shoulder. You thrash a bit as he laughs until you’re stumbling onto the grass. When Suguru throws a staff in your direction, you catch it reflexively.

“Ready?”

You roll your eyes. You’d gotten better at sparring, though you still choose to hang back and concern yourself with areas of Shoko’s expertise. She had become a mentor to you despite being a peer. Meanwhile, the boys had been trying to get you to practice combat, thinking you would do well with a cursed weapon.

You remember the first time you had tried to fight, watching Satoru and Suguru wrestle in the grass shortly after. Their raspy grunts, the skin of their waists underneath ridden-up shirts. The memory makes you flush.

“Yes,” you sigh.

You focus on Satoru’s eyes, saturated like a lightning strike. You were rather well-versed in the language of his body – you think that your intuition often matched Satoru’s rather equally. He was still much taller and larger than you, but you exceeded in your efforts to dodge. He didn’t often bother with hand-to-hand combat much anyway, much more focused on perfecting his inherent techniques.

You gasp when he decides to close the distance between you. The touch of his fingers on your skin is a jolt to the senses as his legs sweep you when you’re too occupied with dodging. You hit the ground with a thud, groaning.

“Sorry, babe,” he chuckles, leaning down to take your hand. When he does, you pull him backward so that he tumbles.

“Hey!”

“Payback,” you shrug. You maintain a fighting stance once again, staff in hand.

Suguru often took you more seriously, offering to teach you martial arts when Satoru was off on solo missions. You breathe heavily as Satoru takes his first swing, which you dodge by a hair.

Focused, you move with the grace of a ballet dancer, halting his movements with your staff the way Suguru had taught you. When you kick a leg high in the air, Satoru catches you by the ankle just for you to fall again. This time, you’re sure you’re bruised.

“There’s still time for you to give up,” he teases.

You groan in irritation, rising to your feet and walking closer to him. He smiles, enjoying seeing you pissed off and breathing so hard. He’s so wrapped up in looking at you that his senses are hit with whiplash – your fist gets through his Infinity easily and socks him square on the jaw.

“You little–”

“Why didn’t you have your Infinity on?” you exasperate, but he’s already pushing you to the ground and struggling with you the way you used to when you were children.

“I’m soooo gonna get you for that–”

You end up kicking him again, this time in the ribs as he groans. When you pin his wrists above his head, he merely stares at you with wild eyes and heaving breaths. His face is red and cherubic, and when he squirms, you squeeze his waist in between your thighs.

You lean down close to his face, your breath tickling his ear.

“I win,” you whisper. You flick him on the forehead and he flinches. You wonder again why he’s letting you touch him like this.

“Letting you pin me down isn’t me letting you win, sweetheart,” he rasps lowly, only for you to hear. He rolls his hips slightly and it makes your eyes widen, much to his satisfaction. You frown and crawl away from him just in time to hear Shoko beckoning you.

“Lab time!” she calls after you. Without a second look at Satoru, you follow her inside.

Satoru is lying on Suguru’s stomach, frowning because it isn’t as soft as yours.

He’s also without entertainment since Suguru has been hogging his DS for the better part of an hour, which Satoru had only let him do because he claimed he wanted to take a nap. But, as per usual, he can’t sleep. He’s still roused from sparring with you, slightly sweaty still from the warmth and the mustiness of the dorm room, and his cock is getting hard again just from thinking about you on top of him.

“Fuck,” Suguru swears under his breath, caught up in a game of Pokemon Emerald.

Satoru lifts his head to scoot his body higher, chin resting on Suguru’s forearm to peek at his progress.

“You’re doing terribly.”

“I know that, thanks,” Suguru groans. “I have like, two backup Pokemon left and they’re both level 30.”

“Do you use the same technique with your curses?” Satoru teases. Suguru makes another agitated noise again in response.

“You should’ve brought your Game Cube from home.”

Satoru shrugs, sighing as he sits up. He snatches his DS out of Suguru’s hands, interrupting the boy’s protest with a wet kiss to the mouth. Suguru kisses back immediately, tongue peeking into Satoru’s mouth before he pulls away.

“You haven’t kissed me in months,” he chuckles. Satoru shrugs.

“Maybe you haven’t kissed me in months.”

“I would’ve thought you’d count it as cheating.”

Satoru is quiet for a moment, rubbing Suguru’s jawline with his fingers gently. He’s been rather gluttonous lately, and he thinks Suguru is starting to catch on. He’s been clingier to the both of you, obnoxiously so, acting more of a nuisance to you specifically for the sake of attention. His heart is aflame whenever he sees you interact with Suguru in ways that are both good and bad, but he doesn’t prefer to dwell on it for very long before he nearly forces you to give him attention.

“Having withdrawals?”

“Huh?”

“She’ll be back soon,” Suguru laughs cruelly. “Whenever she’s gone for a bit, you act like you’re fucking dying.”

“No, I don’t,” Satoru frowns. But he knows he’s lying.

“Don’t mope. C’mere.”

Suguru sighs, seemingly out of pity. He grabs Satoru by the face and sticks his tongue in his mouth – a rough kiss out of spite, out of unbridled passion. He’d dreamt about Satoru and you for weeks, always sneaking glances.

He’d considered taking both of you months before when you and Satoru and Shoko threw him an impromptu surprise birthday party despite his refusal. He had seen you tipsy, squirming in Satoru’s lap while Utahime set up karaoke on the television, and decided he’d let you come to him when you wanted to. You were still a shy thing even after New Year’s, never asking again for his touch.

Satoru groans, palming his dick over his slacks as he leans back. He could feel his cock leaking in his boxers already just from the roughness of Suguru’s knuckles grazing his skin. There was a manic buzz in his head, thrilled by the slight power imbalance he was allowing.

Suguru hadn’t touched him since before he started seeing you, and even then, it was mostly rudimentary teenage lust. Jerking off to magazines together. Seeing how much they could take in their mouths before gagging like it was a competition.

“Fuck,” Satoru grunts, feeling Suguru’s tongue on his clavicle.

“You thinking about her?”

“Yeah,” he rasps.

Suguru chuckles darkly, biting harder at the bone. “She was so hot today. I taught her those moves, y’know.”

Satoru makes a mumbled nose, eyes fluttering shut as Suguru palms him. He unbuttons his slacks to reveal the snowy trail of hair above his pubic bone, Satoru’s cock flushed and weeping as Suguru holds it.

“Want me to fuck you?”

“Use your mouth,” Satoru pants. He knots a fist in Suguru’s dark hair. “Want it like this.”

He hisses when he feels Suguru’s mouth. His jaw slackens at the feeling, gasping for air when Suguru hollows his cheeks to suck tightly. Satoru shoves him down further.

His body feels tight when Suguru motions a finger towards his hole, pausing to spit on his fingers beforehand. With two fingers stretching him open, Satoru pants and gasps. His thighs twitch, hips rolling upward into Suguru’s mouth like it was a cunt.

Your face flashes in Satoru’s mind and it makes his insides careen. Brain like pulped fruit. He opens his eyes to see Suguru’s, narrowed and golden and taunting. It’s similar to the way you look at him, sometimes.

The fist in Suguru’s hair tightens now, knuckles white. Satoru grunts brutishly, overwhelmed by the stimulation in his hole in tandem with Suguru’s tongue pressing on the underside of his cock.

“Fuck, gonna cum–”

Suguru moans, jaw aching only slightly. Satoru could feel his dick inside Suguru’s mouth, heat building up until he spills onto the boy’s tongue. His head falls back. Breathing like he’d just run a marathon.

“You need a better appetite. Shit tastes like battery acid.”

“Doesn’t all cum taste like that?” Satoru frowns. His hand is still in Suguru’s hair.

“You tell me.” Suguru kisses him, licking the inside of Satoru’s molars. His lips move against Satoru’s mouth slowly, listless so he can take himself. When he pulls away, Satoru wipes the slick off his mouth, plump and bitten.

“You’re exaggerating.”

May, 2009

The sky is oddly grey this afternoon despite the pleasant morning. Yamanashi prefecture is as beautiful as ever with cherry blossoms blooming, but as you approach the cursed site, you continue to feel a chill down your spine.

It’s your first real mission. One that Yaga had at least approved you for after you had nailed your physical assessments, able to imbue enough cursed energy into a katana to swing around without slicing yourself. Still, you were meant to act as backup for Suguru, which Satoru hated.

“Why don’t we just both go with her?” he had wailed to Yaga days before, to which Yaga grunted in dismissal.

“You have a solo mission.”

“But–”

“That’ll be the end of it, Satoru.”

Admittedly, you do wish he was here. Suguru is a comforting presence, though, calmer in demeanor but much less talkative than what you’re used to. You walk with him through overgrown grass and lengthy vines.

“What kind of curse are we supposed to find?” you question out loud.

Suguru shrugs. “It’s difficult to tell exactly, but I’m assuming the cursed spirits roaming around here will be, er, women-shaped? Maybe. It should be Grade 2 at most."

“What do you mean, women? What happened here?”

“You don’t know? This place is super haunted.”

“So we’re ghost-hunting.”

“Ghost exorcising,” Suguru grins. “There used to be gold mines here in the 16th century owned by the Takeda Clan. They also ran brothels for the miners. After the Battle of Nagashino, the clan had to give up the land, but not before they killed all the prostitutes to keep them from spreading information about the gold mines.”

“H-how did they kill them?”

“The miners had the women dance at a farewell party, then they hacked the vines that kept up the bridge they were on. They fell into the waterfall.”

“That’s horrible,” you frown. Foreboding swells in your chest.

You can’t sense any cursed energy around you other than Suguru’s. You’re too busy ruminating to watch your step, accidentally tripping over a thick root. You fall forward into Suguru’s arms.

“You okay?” he croons. His face is inches from yours and you forget how to breathe.

“Y-yes. Sorry.” As you untangle yourself from him, your body jolts. You gasp when you hear the hint of a wretched, bloodcurdling scream in the far distance that makes your blood run cold. It isn’t very loud, but it almost sounds muffled, like someone was screaming from another room.

“What? What is it?”

“Did you not hear that?” you whisper.

Suguru frowns at you in confusion, his expression seemingly genuine. You blink, trying to shake off the horrible feeling in your body.

“I think I just heard something. It sounded like a scream.”

Suguru waits, prompting you to elaborate. The forest seems darker now despite it being midday, the curl of the trees billowing in a way that feels uncanny. A girl-shaped forest.

“Maybe we should split up.”

“Absolutely not,” Suguru protests, his mouth set in a firm line. You hold his hand in yours, stroking it gently with your thumb.

“Suguru, you can’t expect to protect me the entire time. I need to learn how to handle things on my own–”

An inhuman gurgle rumbles from behind you. The curse looks similar to a reptile, yet human-like with webbed hands and sharp incisors slick with algae. The stench of mud is apparent in the air now. It drools green sludge before it bows.

You stand in shock, unsure of what to do as you lock eyes with Suguru. Warily, you draw your sword, and the curse’s eyes roll back in agitation as it lets out another gurgle.

“Oh, shit–”

You dodge a projectile of slime, but it crawls towards you at a faster pace than you expect. A slice of your katana dismembers one of its arms, but it easily grows back. Within seconds, a giant curse rises from the ground and swallows it up, teeth mashing on gooey flesh in a way that makes you want to hurl. Suguru’s ringworm curse is dismissed once the riverbank is cleared.

“What was that about not needing me to protect you?” Suguru sneers.

“I still mean it,” you exasperate, heart hammering out of your chest. “You barely gave me time.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll let you have the next one, I swear.”

He smiles genuinely. Satoru must’ve gotten to him – he’s not nearly as neurotic as Satoru in that way, but he wouldn’t be able to stand it if you got hurt. It was less of a possessiveness thing and more of a selflessness thing. Suguru had always been the one to be reliable. He was also more perceptive than Satoru in the way that he could practically feel the tightness of the leash he held on you.

If you were going to be something in the Jujutsu world, you wouldn’t be held back. Suguru thought you could be something ever since he saw you.

You continue to walk with him, knuckles brushing as the air turns thick. Suguru thinks that maybe you’re sulking in his periphery, so he pokes your cheek.

“Yes?”

“You’re awfully quiet.”

“Just thinking,” you mutter.

The katana feels heavy on your back. You had never thought of yourself as a particularly strong person, growing up to be obedient. A maid’s daughter. Hands a little rough from housework and the dirt of the Earth when you were wild, once.

“Let me walk around in that little brain of yours,” Suguru murmurs, always charming.

You pause, swallowing. You realize you have never spoken your insecurities out loud. When you were on the brink of it, it would always be during petty arguments with Satoru, who had a way of shutting you down dismissively. He was always a bit of a control freak, even with you.

“Do you think I’m weak?” Your voice sounds almost frail.

“Of course not. I think you’re very talented, actually,” Suguru says. “Satoru and I– we just care a lot.”

“I’m not sure if talented would be the word. It’s not like he thinks so, either.”

“He does. He just doesn’t know how to express his feelings.”

There seems to be something lingering in his tone that gnaws at you. The way he sighs. You decide not to pry, attempting to steer the conversation away from Satoru altogether.

You hear a wail again. Something in the shape of a girlish scream but only the echo of it. Suguru gives you that confused look at him and you aren’t sure if he’s just messing with you at this point. He touches your hand again and the motion makes you wince.

“What’s wrong?” He looks genuinely worried now as he looks at you, holding a hand to your jaw. That alone is mildly unnerving for some reason, even though you think that in any other environment, you’d welcome it. You place your hand over his palm.

“Do you really not hear that?”

“Hear what?”

“That woman screaming!” you hiss.

“Are you sure it isn’t some wild animal?”

You blink at him blankly.

“You don’t hear it.”

When he shakes his head, you hear it again. You begin to walk towards the source of it while Suguru stalks behind you, but you stop him.

“Maybe I should handle this.”

He grimaces, clearly unhappy. You raise your brows, challenging him. Suguru wants to hold you back but he knows he shouldn’t.

“Hey, another fucking– river monster could show up, and you’d be able to handle it. Maybe this is something that only I can see or hear. We’ll be too conspicuous with both of our cursed energy.”

He says your name with a hint of desperation and discipline, but you hold your gaze firmly.

“Okay,” Suguru sighs. “But if anything goes wrong, just yell for me, okay?”

You nod.

The tall grass tickles your legs as you move, which makes you thankful you decided to wear trousers instead of your usual skirt for the mission. Your hand grips the strap of your sword bag with anxiety. As you get closer, it’s as if the air is permeated with a smell that you can only describe as being in between sex and blood.

The scream you hear is louder now. You aren’t sure if it’s truly a hallucination, but it seems like the forest laughs back at you after. If you were a smarter person, perhaps you’d return to your partner. But you also assume that if you were to do that, you’d be a weaker person.

You walk over a wooden bridge that feels like it’s holding on by the barest thread. The creaking of the bridge beneath your weight adds to the unease that has settled in your gut. Every step forward feels like a gamble, a test of your bravery. The forest seems to close in around you, the trees whispering secrets you can't quite decipher.

A scream rips through the air and this time, against your better judgment, you follow it.

It’s punctuated with sobs and whimpers, getting louder and louder as you walk along the path. Cursed energy flickers in the shape of a girl. When you get closer, you see her.

A girl is sitting in a fetal position behind a tree, clutching her shoulder as she wails in agony. Her long black hair is matted and damp. She doesn’t seem to notice you yet, so you swiftly move to hide yourself between shrubbery to get a better look.

“P-p-please… help me…” she sobs. You choke up at the sight of her torn dress, hands and shoulder crimson with blood. She looks younger than you – no older than fifteen.

You grasp the strap of your sword bag tightly and cautiously as you walk towards her. Her eyes widen when she sees you. You aren’t sure if it’s a look of relief or fear.

“Hi there,” you say with a tremor in your voice. “What’s your name?”

“Akane,” the girl whimpers. Her face is pale with bruised lips.

“Akane. Are you lost? How did you get this injury?” You crouch down to meet her at eye level.

“Th-there was a man… I was trying to run away from him… but I’m in t-too much pain to keep going,” she breathes. “Please help me.”

You furrow your brows. You’re surprised that there was anyone in this forest besides those grotesque cursed spirits considering how abandoned and desolate the place was. The girl must’ve run far.

“Where are you from, Akane?”

“Tabayama.”

“That’s not too far from here,” you smile softly. “Let me heal you and my friend and I can get you back home, okay?”

You reach for her arm but she flinches and looks at you with unease.

“It’s okay,” you reassure her. “I’m a healer, see?”

Your cursed energy waxes and wanes within your palm like a luminous mist. You hover it over a superficial cut on your hand that you’d gotten from dealing with thorns earlier and the skin patches up like new. Akane watches in awe.

“I want to help you. Is it okay if I touch you?”

She nods her head apprehensively. You unwrap the saturated cloth from her shoulder, cringing at the sight of the gore and blood. You can’t quite envision the type of violence she’d just been through from the vagueness of her words, but you don’t want to make the poor girl explain in the midst of her trauma.

It’s more effort than what you’re used to – the wound is so deep that you fear that you’ll overexert yourself. You’d spent enough time in the lab with Shoko to improve your technique, but this time, it seems as if everything you’re doing isn’t enough. The skin on the girl’s shoulder is healing very slowly, and when you think that her condition is improving, another area of her body seems to bleed out.

“Maybe I should get my friend to help. He could take us to a hospital.”

“He?”

You look up to see Akane’s eyes grow cold. Almost lifeless, as if she’s looking through you. You hear the visceral sound of a limb breaking, the squelch of her organs. It seems as though her face is transforming right in front of your eyes, but it feels like an illusion – the way her skin looks decayed, the way her teeth grow sharper.

Akane – or what was Akane – cackles cruelly. Her cursed energy is overwhelming now, suffocating you. There’s a warbled cry that falls from her mouth.

“I’ll kill him.”

This is not a fucking Grade 2 curse.

You immediately get to your feet and swing your katana, but the curse blocks your attack easily. She’s also growing exponentially, no longer the size of a teenage girl and more like the river monster you’d seen earlier. She grabs you by the ankle, tripping you. A hack to the wrist with your katana makes the creature scream even more. You watch in horror as thick, black blood seeps out.

You yell Suguru’s name at the top of your lungs.

You see the Rainbow Dragon first, flying through the forest around you and the curse, but the nails on her other hand are strong enough to slice through the dragon’s hide. When you turn to lock eyes with Suguru, the curse lets out something in between a sob and a scream, shrill in your ears.

It seems as though she forgets you entirely, running head-first towards Suguru.

“I’ll… kill…. youuuuuuu!”

“No!” you screech, pulling her backward by the leg with all the strength you can muster. You slash the curse’s skin with your katana, making her wail, but she pins you down in retaliation with cuts to your arm from its sharp nails.

You hiss at the pain. You notice that her hair has transformed into its own entity, tentacle-like and razor-sharp as it slices through one of Suguru’s hound-like curses. She directs her attention back at him and aims for his neck, but you hold down a bloody hand onto her back as your hand pulls one of her sharp hairs back.

You cry out at the wound it makes in your hand, but your other stays pressed to the slimy flesh of her body. Your cursed energy ignites something unfamiliar in your body, something painful, but you imbue it into your touch with all you have.

She’s screaming. Or maybe you are. You can’t tell anymore – your head is dulling from expending more cursed energy than you ever have. It’s all dissonant to you. A horrific cacophony. You feel blood drip from your nose.

The curse’s flesh is rotting. As if the wounds she had when she appeared as a human were only rapidly progressing into decay, cells rupturing, body degenerating the harder you push.

It’s like she turns to mush. The corpse of the curse is barely recognizable anymore, just a puddle of chunky purplish-black blood.

You breathe heavily, looking up to see Suguru staring at you in shock. You try to give him a weak smile, but you don’t feel anything other than sick. Or maybe it’s numbness, at least for a few seconds as the forest is quiet again.

You double over and vomit. Your vision blacks out.

As a surprise to no one, Gojo Satoru is fucking livid.

He’s about to open his mouth but stops himself when Suguru gives him a look of disdain. There’s no one to yell at, except maybe Yaga, because why the fuck would he put you on a mission that could potentially involve a Special Grade?

“She’s fine,” Suguru affirms.

Satoru merely exhales through his nostrils, curling his hands into fists as he slumps down on the bench next to Suguru. He can’t help but envision your corpse, his brain reeling a horrific supercut of all the ways you could’ve been disfigured, maimed, bruised. Changed.

He realizes that the protectiveness over you he feels has turned into something ugly now that he knows you’re in the infirmary, something akin to fear, which is foreign to him.

It sinks into him like teeth down to the marrow, parasitic. He thinks of a faceless curse that he wants to tear apart with his bare hands. Satoru had tried to get over the desire to keep you in a cage, to keep you so unbearably close to him out of his own selfishness, but the feeling came back. He doesn’t know where to keep it other than lodged in his chest like a bullet.

“Did you absorb it, Suguru? Because I might need you to summon it later so I can get my fucking hands on it myself,” Satoru says, his voice low and seething through gritted teeth.

“No,” Suguru sighs.

Satord nods dumbly. Silence ensues.

“She killed it herself.”

You have dreams while you’re passed out. The curse you killed transforms its face from its teenage girl form and into others. You see Shoko, Suguru, Satoru. Everyone you’ve ever known. And when the skin of its face starts to rot the same way it did when you used your technique on it, you end up staring at yourself.

When you wake, it’s slow. The fluorescents in the infirmary don’t help. From outside of the room, you can hear hushed voices.

When you attempt to lift your body off the bed, you see Shoko sleeping in a chair next to you. Your bones ache, your skin stinging with the ghost of a wound. The cut on your palm from being slashed by the curse is a scar now.

You drop your head again, squeezing your eyes shut in an attempt to rest more. It’s too fucking bright in this room. Your breathing stills when you hear the door creak open.

“For fuck’s sake,” a voice bristles.

You hear another whispering Shoko’s name. Waking her, you assume.

“How is she doing?”

“She’s okay,” Shoko yawns. “Just sleeping. Her wounds were kind of deep, but I took care of it.”

A hand caresses your jaw gently, fingers stroking through your scalp. Your eyes blink open slowly to see Satoru grimacing above you. From the way the overhead light illuminates the back of his head, you think he almost looks like an angel. A makeshift halo shining on moonlit hair.

You notice the way he holds his fist tightly and the iciness of his gaze. It’s a fraction of rage, which makes you feel nauseous again. You’d seen that look on his face before, during the night of Shoko’s party. You wonder now, vaguely, what he looks like when he kills.

“Hey,” you mumble weakly.

“Hey,” he scoffs. “Wanna tell me what the fuck happened?”

“Satoru, let her be–”

“It’s okay,” you interrupt. You rise, wincing at the soreness of your muscles. “Um. I… killed the curse.”

“So I’ve been told,” Satoru deadpans. His jaw is tense, but his eyes soften. He looks up, flickering his gaze between Shoko and Suguru.

Shoko clears her throat. “She used her technique. The healing part of it is based on cell regeneration. Apparently, it can also be used… the opposite way. It must've been activated by adrenaline, and then it was too much. Passed out from exhaustion.”

“How is that possible?”

“Well, our technique is like a muscle, right? And she didn’t use hers very rigorously until now, so…”

“Right,” Satoru sighs, his voice clipped.

“I need a smoke,” Shoko rasps. “Do you need anything, baby?”

You smile weakly, shaking your head.

You can’t help but feel guilt snaking its way into your body. Even though you had exorcised a curse, your first actual achievement in Jujutsu sorcery, the bloodshed you’d experienced feels fruitless. You don’t feel very powerful at all, only monstrous.

It’s difficult to gauge what Satoru is thinking. He’s clearly upset about the fact that you got hurt, but you wonder if there’s more. If he resents you pulling a stunt like that and nearly killing yourself in the process—because what would you be if not his? Are you still his with bloodstained hands? Would he like you better now that you could prove to be strong?

It didn’t matter. He would always be stronger.

You hate the tension in the air. You can’t bear it. Maybe they’ll disperse once you get on your feet. There wasn’t anything left to do with your treatment since Shoko had tired herself with your wounds.

When you swing a leg over the cot and attempt to sit up straight, an invisible wall stops you. You glare at Satoru holding his hand out, palm outstretched inches away from your chest.

“No,” he snaps.

“Don’t do that,” you grumble. “I’m fine.”

He laughs but there’s no amusement in his tone. His eyes are cold again. Pools of ice.

“Right. You’re in fucking pristine shape.”

“Satoru,” Suguru warns.

“I– I can walk–”

“No,” Satoru repeats. “You’re hurt. Stop it.”

You look between Satoru’s hard gaze and Suguru’s frown and roll your eyes. You’re so tired, and overwhelmed with pain that transcends the physical kind. You can’t even put a name to it, the amount of emotions spilling out of you as you look at the two of them with mild desperation. You want to sleep for another twelve hours.

Irritation flares behind your face. You aren’t sure if you want to scream or cry for catharsis, but you stay quiet, trembling.

“I want to be in my bed,” you mutter.

Satoru lets out a breath as if he’s been holding it for a while. Gently, he touches the nape of your neck, Infinity down. Laces his fingers in your hair in a sort of compromise. He moves his arm underneath your back with the other under your knees and lifts you, kicking off the blankets.

You curl into him, head on his chest. It made it hard for Satoru to breathe, for some reason, like something was stealing the air from his lungs. He nods to Suguru as a voiceless confirmation, watching his cursed energy flare. I’ll take it from here.

When he gets you into your room, Satoru releases you, placing you gingerly on the floor. Part of him wants to shake you by the shoulders, have you slap him across the face for reasons unknown to him. Something, anything other than the despondence of your limp figure. He can’t stand it.

“Satoru,” you whisper. “I’m sorr–”

“Don’t,” he strains. “Do you even know why you’re apologizing? Or is it just second nature to you?”

You say nothing.

He strips off your uniform, torn and battered. Still reeking of copper blood, the stench all too familiar, but not on you.

“I’m sorry for being mean. I was just worried,” he says. “I’m… proud of you.”

“Proud?” You look at him, dazed, as if this is the last thing you expect him to say.

He nods curtly, a sad smile on his face. “I always knew you had it in you.”

He picks you up again despite your futile protest, walking you to the attached bathroom. After turning on the faucet, he sits next to you, hand stroking your thigh gently in silence. He doesn’t look at you. He’s not sure if he can.

“C’mon. Up.” He taps your thigh once.

You’re still dizzy as you enter the bath, sighing at the warmth of the water. As you sink into the bath, a sense of relief washes over you, momentarily easing the tension in your body. A much-needed respite.

You feel Satoru trail his fingers around your collarbone, rising to feel your pulse. The rhythm seems to calm him as he soothes his palm over your shoulders and back. His touch is less urgent than it usually is.

He squeezes shampoo in your hair and threads his fingers through it, scratching your scalp gently, untangling the mess of you. He saturates a washcloth with soap, rubbing small circles over your limbs, lifting you like you’re a doll. It was funny—he had never had to take care of anyone other than himself before, but at the moment, he’s indulged in the small hums of pleasure you make, reveling in your comfort. Your trust.

He likes taking care of you. It makes him feel like he has a sense of control. He doesn’t want to indulge too far into it, knowing it’ll smolder a nasty part of him in some way. But the steam of the hot water makes his cheeks ruddy, and when you open your eyes at the feeling of his hand on your jaw, he can’t help but want to keep you.

Satoru turns your face toward him, cupping your chin as he leans in to kiss you. Your mouth opens like a flower blooming, ready for him like always. He tries not to be rough despite the moan you tease out of him. Your skin is soft after he bathes you. His hands know carnage, but they also know you.

You break apart, looking at each other for a few seconds before he kisses you again. He pecks your mouth, nose, and cheeks, leaving you to scrunch your nose by the end. Laughing, he rinses your hair.

“Feel better?” he asks lightly. You nod.

“C’mon, baby. You’re gonna get all pruney in there.”

You’re perfectly capable of drying yourself off and putting on clothes, but Satoru seems eager to do it for you, so you stay limp in his arms. He’s being oddly affectionate as he babies you, which he never does. It’s usually the other way around.

With his hands on your waist, a dangerous thought flits through Satoru’s mind, but it dissipates when he fixes your hair to see you fresh-faced. You look young, innocent. Untouched by violence like he had known you before.

He takes you to the bed, where, despite the size of it, he manages to slot his body next to yours so he can curl into you. Head on your chest to listen to the murmur of your heartbeat.

You stay like this for a while, listening to each others’ breaths. You’re on the brink of sleep when you think you feel tears on your chest. Dampness on your cotton shirt, but only a little. Satoru exhales heavily, squeezing the meat of your side. You’re feeling a little too warm from the proximity but don’t have the heart to untangle yourself. You close your eyes.

“I love you.”

You aren’t sure if it’s a whisper in your dreams or not.

June, 2002

You both had matching bruises. Green and yellowish like snot.

The summer was changing you and Satoru in a way that held gravity. Satoru’s body was growing more and more, handsome like the beautiful child he’d been when you first met him, and you were a purgatory. Something girlish. Something ghostly.

Your mother had reprimanded you last week for coming back with a bloody knee, scolding you for rough play. The expiration on your youth seemed to be ticking from the way she chastised you about your shared misbehavior with Satoru – you were meant to grow into something polite and womanly.

Satoru had scoffed at the notion when you told him. He liked that you weren’t obsequious to him like everyone else in his life who treated him like a little prince.

Unfortunately, you’d pave the road of your abjection all by yourself later on.

He still thought of you as the only person who understood him. He was your first friend, your only friend for a while, and you were his. You’d count stars with him. Catch fireflies and make wishes on them. Wear each other’s clothes before his growth spurt.

You’d clung to each other for years—it was difficult to tell which one of you was the parasite. Despite this, sometimes you think Satoru hates you. Sometimes he makes you cry, especially with how apathetic he can be. You blame his stoicism on his upbringing, but there are times that you feel like an afterthought, only exacerbated as he grows older and into something of worth.

At age twelve, it’s difficult for you to believe that you could be anything similar.

Your young ferocity gets minimized to meekness at school. There’s hair-pulling, harder than Satoru’s ever done to you. Stolen lunches. Spitballs to your back. Your face kissing pavement.

“What happened to you?” Satoru asks, narrowing his eyes at the sight of your split lip.

“I fell.”

He’s forceful when he drags you to him. He’s too tall for his age, towering over you with cold blue eyes staring down at you. You flinch when he touches your cheek with his hand.

“You’re lying,” he frowns.

“It’s fine,” you mumble.

He doesn’t pry after that, but he does force you to clean the cut with hydrogen peroxide, which is ironic considering how little he cares about his own cuts and bruises from his private training.

On the playground the next day, you’re targeted again, reaching desperately for your backpack that’s stolen straight from your hands. A kick to the shins has you scraping your palms when you try to ground yourself. Your hands sting as they bleed. You gasp when you feel another kick to the stomach, a cruel round of laughs taunting you.

But then, you hear them gasp. The sound of knuckles hitting bone.

“Touch her again and I’ll fucking kill you.”

Satoru lifts you up by the hand and holds you by the shoulders. He picks the debris out of your hair.

“C’mon, let’s go home,” he sighs. He ignores the tears on your cheeks. He’ll wipe them away later along with the dried blood in your palms.

You’ll shower in his bathroom, mind blank under the hot water. He’ll see your silhouette through the peek in the door, and his stomach will lurch in a new way. He won’t be able to look at you for a week after.

June, 2009

He comes to you at night a little drunk. You’re surprised Satoru didn’t warp this time – you’re used to seeing him in the blink of an eye right before you go to sleep just because he doesn’t want to sleep in his own room. Sleep is hardly a thing for him anyway – his insomnia has gotten a bit worse over the years, so he prefers to play on his Nintendo DS quietly as he strokes your hair.

“You actually knocked?”

He shrugs as he moves past you to flop his long body onto your twin bed. You look at him in question. He doesn’t answer, only gesturing for you.

“Come over here,” he slurs.

“Are you drunk?”

“Not–” he hiccups, “at all.”

“Satoru,” you berate.

“Okay, maybe I went a little crazy with the Dirty Shirleys. Needed a drink after the stupid fucking mission Yaga sent us on.”

“You shouldn’t be drinking this much. It’s a weekday.”

He mocks you and settles a hand over your waist. You notice the calluses on his hands, ironic considering he can never let anything touch him. But you can.

He sits you on his lap, rubbing your shoulders carefully. “How’s your night been?”

“Shoko made me watch Audition,” you frown.

“Oh. I love that one.”

“Of course you do,” you sigh, “Nothing scares you.”

You aren’t wrong. After assassination attempts and countless wretched curses thrown Satoru’s way, nothing could make him flinch anymore.

“You scare me,” he pouts, undressing himself. Always staking his claim on you in this way – he wouldn’t leave if you asked, and you know that you won’t.

“I highly doubt that.”

“You should yell at me more. It’s kind of a turn-on when you’re mad.”

You roll your eyes as you turn off the lamp, plunging the room into darkness if not for the light of the moon and the annoying brilliance of Satoru’s eyes. Even his hair seems to glow in the dark, head dipped in starlight.

As you lay on your side, you feel Satoru’s palm undulating your bare thigh, tickling you under the hem of your t-shirt. He breathes in the scent of your neck.

“You have goosebumps,” he mumbles against your hair. “Gonna get nightmares from the movie?”

“No.”

“I’ll protect you,” he giggles boyishly, body overheating with want.

He sucks on your neck, hand parting the plushness of your thighs. You keen at the feeling of his teeth and tongue, gasping at his large fingers sliding your panties to the side to prod your cunt.

“This is all I could think about today.”

“Yeah?” you whisper.

“Yeah,” he says, his voice rough. “Kept thinking about all those sounds you make. Kept thinking about your face.”

“You shouldn’t—ah—let yourself get so distracted on your missions.”

He laughs. “Whatever. Killed all those fuckers in less than ten minutes anyway.”

Satoru keeps you pressed to his chest, his other hand grasping your breast. You feel his dick hardening behind you as he plays with your cunt, fingers knuckle-deep inside you. It didn’t take him long to find your spot the way he had you memorized. Your eyes shut tightly as you moan. Stars knock around your head.

He turns your face toward his and licks at the seam of your lips, tongue roughly licking the inside of your mouth. Your body tingles at the sound of his groans. He holds you by the chin, hand slipping around your throat to hold you in place so he can take in every detail of your face.

You flush under his gaze, how his blown-out pupils outweighed the ocean blue. His pink mouth is parted and breathing out, zephyrs of maraschino cherry tickling your face.

You cry out when he pins you down, sinks his cock into your wetness. A wounded sound. It makes him shiver, makes him think about you on that dingy cot a month ago in the infirmary. Satoru was about ready to avenge you in any way he could, back then, even when you weren’t even half-dead. He’d reshape mountains. Drown the whole city of Tokyo with his bare hands.

In the way he holds you with bruising force, rutting into you like a devoted dog, he decides that he will be the only person to hurt you. The only one who should, knowing that even with his regrets and jagged ways of caring, no one else should lay a finger on you except him. He’d never hurt you in a violent way, unless his passion had counted. If devouring you counted, which it probably did, he would be content with his selfishness if it meant you were safe.

He needed to learn how to stop being so goddamn obsessive. He’d work on it later, maybe. He’d try not to speak curses into existence from the way he felt about you.

At the moment, he wants to make this good for you. Something like love.

“Made for me,” he whispers. “You were fucking made for me.”

“Yes,” you gasp.

He splits you open, spearing into your gut as he mumbles praises lowly into your ear. Your cunt pulses at the sound of his voice. He thrusts into you harshly, making blood rush to your head.

“You make me feel insane,” he grunts. “Used to think about you like this in high school. You were so fucking stubborn, refusing to give me attention.”

“You were a brat,” you flush. “Still are.”

“Your brat.”

“Mine,” you hum.

He groans at that. He’s so deep in you, drowning in syrupy velvet. He liked it when your body made him feel like this, like he was levitating. He wasn’t Gojo with you, always Satoru, always just a boy. He’d be content in this infinite spiral, swapping spit in between tongues and fucking into you until you cried. Your body is sacred. You made him forget himself when he needed to.

You like when he carves you out like this, your cunt a shrine for him at this point. You moan at the loss of him, watching through glassy eyes as he stumbles, fixing your body in between his knees.

“Wanna see my pretty girl’s face,” he groans. He’s annoyingly rough when he enters again, but you love it. He says your name like it’s a prayer.

Your head buzzes as he thrusts into you faster this time. His hair sticks to his face, tickling your cheek as he bites into your neck. Midnight vignettes blur your vision.

“Wish you’d let me have you earlier,” he pants.

“Fucking me for the past year wasn’t enough?”

He shakes his head. “Wish I lost it to you. I was thinking about you during it, too.”

“Satoru,” you whine.

He means it. He was already blunt as could be, but alcohol made him over-honest. He liked that his candor made you blush.

“Would you have let me fuck you?” he teases. “When we were fifteen?”

“No. You were even stupider then.”

“So mean to me,” he chuckles, rolling his hips more aggressively. He revels in watching you squirm. “I would’ve worshipped you.”

“No, you wouldn’t have,” you mumble, hiding your face in his chest. Nails cross-hatching the length of his back.

“I would’ve.” I will.

He kisses you open-mouthed like it’s a promise, pulling your hair in the process. The room was starting to get hot, that June humidity unforgiving, even at night. You’d have to open a window later. His body makes yours swelter, skin melting into skin like he’s trying to fuse the both of you into one thing. Like that Greek myth about two halves of a soul.

“Fuck, ‘m so close,” he whimpers. “You feel too good. Shit, I wanted to make you beg.”

“Sounds like you’re the one begging,” you exhale.

“Yeah,” he grunts. “Want you. You’re killing me. Fuck.”

He spills inside of you at the same time you cum, the heaviness of his low groans making your brain break. He’s still drunk, head swimming with every part of you. Above you, he sports that fallen angel look again, eyes gleaming with rapture. Prodigious as he was, he worships you instead, blessed with love bruises adorning his shoulder.

Satoru always liked to fuck you like it was the last day he’d ever have you. Tonight is no different.

He exhales at the juncture of your neck, soothed by your hands in his hair. He lifts his body up, kissing your collarbone before he descends to your belly. You tremble at the feeling of his hand cupping your cunt.

“Satoru, I can’t–”

“Please?” he pouts, his breath tickling your clit. “Wanna taste you. All mixed up with me.”

Heat rises to your face violently. “You’re disgusting.”

“You love it.”

“You made such a mess,” you grumble.

“I’ll clean it up,” he grins.

You let him. His sharp mouth never lets up, anyway.

“Wait! Sit on my face.”

“I can’t even feel my legs,” you pout.

He whines your name. “I had such a tough mission today, baby. You don’t think I deserve it?”

“Spoiled,” you mumble as you switch positions with him. Below you, he looks feral in the eyes, over-eager. Hungry like a wolf even after fucking you hard.

You gasp when he pulls you down, slotting your thighs on each side of his head while he starts to taste you. Licking up into your cunt, moaning at the taste of himself and the sweetness of you. He grips your ass, guiding your movements like the ebb and flow of a wave. You shake above him.

“Jesus.”

You feel him laugh, the vibrations tickling your clit.

“Annoying slut,” you call him. He seems to enjoy it, thinking of it as praise considering how loud he groans. It almost embarrasses you.

That familiar feeling twinges in your core again.

“Cum for me, baby,” he breathes. He latches his mouth on your clit and you think you might burst. Maybe crumble and fly away in the wind like a dandelion.

He continues to suck on you as you ride out your orgasm, your thighs trembling. When he gets up for air, his eyes are blown out wide, drunken smile on his face as if he’s peaking. Chemical reactions in his blood.

“So good for me,” he grins, kissing you on the mouth. Your heart flutters.

His gaze is still searing into you. Looking at him hurts, sometimes.

Satoru presses into you, curling into your neck again. His heartbeat reverberates throughout the room. Tenderness floods the both of you, bodies slotted together like he wants to make a nest out of you.

You’re exhausted with heavy lids. Satoru strokes your skin until you fall asleep, careful fingers soothing the places his mouth had been. Divine wounds. Like a devotional dog with teeth too sharp and love larger than his body, Satoru will be the only one to hurt you.

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