we're soarin' ,,, flyin'

your knees were a mess, scraped raw and beading with tiny drops of blood. there was dirt on your palms and you had tears welling in your eyes, but you weren’t sad. not even in the slightest. you stood there, swaying slightly and pointed a trembling finger at him.

“you pushed me,” you glared at him, lips quivering as you made the demand that sealed his fate, the one that’s been echoing in his head for years “you have to get me a hello kitty bandaid or i’m telling on you.”

he didn’t have a hello kitty bandaid. he didn’t have any bandaids on him actually. but he really, really wished he did. he wished he had a whole box of them, a whole factory of them, just to give to you. he wanted to patch up the bruises he’d made. he wanted to wipe the tears from your eyes before they even fell. he wanted, for the first time in his life, to take care of someone else.

his feelings for you grew through awkward school dances, late-night study sessions, and the disastrous first dates he had to rescue you from.

they blossomed in the spaces between your laughter, in the comfortable silences you shared. they grew until they became so big he can barely contain them.

he’s supposed to be playing mortal kombat xi with suguru, but his mind is miles away. he’s waiting — he’s always waiting — for your text, your call. anything that says you need him. anything that says he’s the one you want. even if it’s just for a ride home from a date with someone else.

the blue light of the screen paints patterns on satoru’s face, highlighting the sharp line of his jaw as he squints at the game. suguru’s character lands a critical hit, and satoru’s health bar plummets.

“fuck,” he curses, his fingers move over the controller, but he’s too scatterbrained to come back from this. he always is when you’re out with someone else

“you’re playing like shit tonight,” suguru comments, not looking away from the screen.

“shut up,” satoru mumbles. his phone sits face down on the cushion beside him. he imagines it buzzing, imagines your name lighting up the screen, and his stomach does that stupid flutter it always does. he hates it. he hates feeling like this when he knows you’ll never feel the same.

suguru lands another hit. game over. “told you,” he says, leaning back. “so who’s she with tonight? what’s his name?”

“don’t know,” satoru says, tossing the controller onto the couch. it bounces off a cushion. “don’t care either”

“bullshit,” suguru laughs, “you care more than anyone.”

( of course he cares. loving you is all he’s ever known and he’s terrified that one day, you won’t need to reach out. you won’t need him to pick up the pieces anymore because your date went great and you’ve fallen in love. the mere thought of it makes him sick to his stomach )

satoru doesn’t answer. he just reaches for his phone, heart thumping hopefully against his ribs. he tells himself he’s checking the time, but his thumb swipes the screen open anyway.

nothing. no messages. no missed calls. radio silence.

he’s about to put it down, to tell suguru to go fuck himself. to suggest they order some doordash and pretend tonight isn’t happening. pretend you’re not out there with some stranger who doesn’t deserve to be breathing the same air as you.

and then his phone buzzes. the screen lights up and there it is. your name. and five words that make his heart race.

can you come get me? [ 10:26 pm ]

that’s it. you offer him no explanation. zero context. but he can hear the shake in your voice, see the tears in your eyes, and he hasn’t even heard you speak yet. he’s on his feet before he’s fully processed it.

“what is it?” suguru asks, sitting up straighter.

“nothing,” satoru says, already moving towards the hallway. “i gotta go. don’t wait up for me”

“again?”

“shut up,” he throws over his shoulder, grabbing his keys from the bowl by the door. his shoes are by the doormat, and he’s shoving his feet into them, not even bothering to untie them first. “you’d do the same for shoko.”

“shoko doesn’t make a habit of dating assholes, and i’m not in love with her. don’t compare apples to oranges” suguru calls after him, but satoru’s already out the door.

the drive to you is a blur of streetlights and angry horns. his foot is heavy on the gas. he’s drawn to you like a moth to a flame.

the restaurant you’re at tonight is fancy. all warm lighting and valet parking. there’s no spot, of course there’s no fucking spot, and he circles the block twice before finding a space three streets down.

he’s out of the car before the engine’s fully off, jogging down the sidewalk until he sees you through the window.

he pushes the door open and makes his way towards you. the closer he gets, the more details he can’t unsee. your shoulders are shaking and the champagne flute in front of you is empty. just how much have you had to drink?

you finally lift your head. your eyes find his impossibly blue ones, and the vulnerability in your expression is a physical blow to his chest.

( it’s the same look you had on the playground all those years ago, after he’d pushed you off and you’d scrambled to your feet, demanding he fix everything. you’re still demanding it with every breath you take. and he’s still here, doing everything in his power to make you feel better. )

“toru,” you frown, and the sound of his name on your lips makes him weak. it always does.

“i’m here,” the only comfort he has to give is himself. his arms wrap around you, pulling you flush against his chest.

you’re soft and warm. you smell like expensive champagne and your vanilla perfume. your hands fist desperately in the material of his t-shirt, clinging to him like he’s the only solid thing in a world that’s tilting on its axis. you bury your face in his chest and he can feel the tremors running through your entire body.

he holds you tighter, one hand splayed across the small of your back, the other coming up to cup the back of your head. he rubs slow circles against the silk of your dress. he wants to absorb your pain into himself and shatter it into a million pieces.

( he wishes you were clinging to him because you wanted him, not because someone else had thrown you away. )

he waits until your grip on his shirt loosens. he keeps one hand on your back, leaning back just enough to look at you. but you don’t lift your head, you keep your face hidden against the damp fabric of his shirt.

“look at me,” he murmurs, you can feel his words rumbling through his chest.

it takes a moment, but you slowly, reluctantly, pull back. your face is a mess but you’ve never looked more beautiful to him. he wants to kiss you, to taste the salt of your tears and the champagne on your lips. but he’s here to fix this. he’ll save the wanting for later, for the quiet hours of the night when he’s alone on your couch with nothing but the ghost of your warmth and the ache in his chest.

for now, he just has to be your friend. your best friend.

he gently cups your face, his thumbs stroking your cheekbones, wiping away the dampness. “what happened?”

you take a shaky breath, and your gaze darts away from his, landing on the empty champagne flute. “he was just. . .” you hiccup, swallowing hard. “he was just awful from the beginning, ‘toru. he wouldn’t let me talk. he just kept going on about himself, about his job, his car, his. . his stupid rolex.”

“i thought. . . i don’t know what i thought. i just kept ordering champagne because he was supposed to be paying and i was bored. and then. . .then he said he was going to the bathroom and he never came back.”

“one of the waitresses,” you continue, your voice dropping to a whisper, “came over and said she saw him leave. she said he left with. . . with some girl he was talking to at the bar. and then they brought the bill a-and i didn’t have enough because he ordered the most expensive thing on the menu”

rage courses through his veins, so potent it makes him dizzy. he’s not just angry at the nameless, faceless asshole who did this. he’s angry at the fact he lives in a world where someone could have you, could sit across from you, look at you, and then . . leave. how? how is that remotely possible? how could anyone be so blind, so stupid? he can’t wrap his head around it.

“he’s a fucking idiot,” he snaps, “and you’re way too good for him, he never deserved you or time”

( satoru wishes you would finally see that he’s the one who does. if you gave him a chance he would worship the ground you walk on.

in retrospect he already does. he patches up the wounds left by other men, cleans up their messes, holds you while you cry over them. he remembers your café order and brings a cup that’s more creamer than coffee to your first lecture of the day. he sits through rewatches of ‘ten things i hate about you’ and the fear street trilogy without complaining. he pays for your gas and groceries. he does everything a boyfriend should do and more. but he’s not your boyfriend.

if you’d let him take you out on a date. he wouldn’t just sit across from you talking about himself. he would hang onto your every word.

he’d never leave you waiting, not for a second. he’d move heaven and earth to make you happy, to make you his. he just needs you to give him the chance to )

he knows you don’t believe him. you never do. you always think it’s your fault, that you weren’t pretty enough, or smart enough, or interesting enough. and it kills him, because he knows the truth. he knows you’re too good for a world full of mediocre men who can’t appreciate what’s right in front of them.

“yeah” you nod and he knows you’re just agreeing with him because that’s what he wants to hear. he lets his hands fall, but he doesn’t step away. he can’t. not yet.

he pulls out his wallet. he doesn’t even bother to look at the bill. he sifts out a thick wad of cash, the crisp edges digging into his palm, and drops it down onto the polished wood of the bar.

( it’s more than enough to cover the ridiculously expensive lobster and the multiple bubbly glasses of dom perignon. more than enough to cover a tip that’s so generous it’s obscene. but satoru doesn’t care.)

“let’s go,” he says.

you slide off the barstool and for a terrifying moment you wobble precariously. the ridiculously high heels you’d worn for a man who didn’t deserve them betray you. satoru’s there before you can even register your knees buckling. his hand wrapping around your upper arm, “i’ve got you,”

your body molds to his like it’s the most natural thing in the world. satoru has to physically force himself to breathe, to focus on the simple act of walking and not the way his heart is trying to beat its way out of his chest.

he guides you to his car, opens the door, and helps you in. he buckles your seatbelt, fingers brushing against your side, just below your ribs. you shiver and it has nothing to do with the cold.

“cold?” he asks. you shake your head, lolling back against the leather headrest.

“no ‘m just tired,” you mumble, eyes already drifting shut. long lashes casting shadows on your cheeks. but he drapes his hoodie over your frame regardless

the drive to your apartment is quiet. satoru glances over at you at every red light, at the way streetlights tinge patterns across your face, at the way your lips are slightly parted. he wants to reach over, to brush a stray strand of hair from your forehead, to trace the line of your jaw with his thumb, but he doesn’t. he can’t.

he white-knuckles the leather steering wheel and forces himself to focus on the road.

when he finally reaches your apartment and he kills the engine. he just sits there watching you sleep for a moment. he hates the thought of waking you, hates the thought of this night ending.

“hey,” he whispers, his voice barely perceptible. he reaches out, shaking your shoulder gently. “we’re here.”

your eyes flutter open. they’re heavy-lidded, and hazy with sleep and alcohol. you’re too pretty, even like this

“c’mon let’s get you inside,” he murmurs. he practically carries you through the foyer and into the elevator, his body pressed against yours, your head lolling against his chest.

the elevator ride is torturous. he’s drowning in you and it makes your head spin. his weakness is exacerbated the second he steps into your apartment. it smells too much like you. it makes his chest ache with longing.

he lays you down on your bed, carefully turning you onto your side —the way he knows you like to sleep.

your heels are a nightmare — all delicate straps and tiny buckles — and his fingers are clumsy as he works them free. he tries not to wake you, tries not to linger too long on the warm skin of your ankles.

your dress looks like it’ll be uncomfortable to sleep. he hesitates, hand hovering over the zipper at the back. he’s seen you in less — during those endless shopping trips you’d dragged him on, trying on lacy bras for your dates and asking his opinion. completely oblivious to the way his throat would close up.

but this feels different. more intimate. a line he’s not sure he’s ready to cross

“fuck it,” he mutters and turns away, heading for your bathroom. he finds your makeup wipes where he knows they’ll be, in the little wicker basket by the sink.

he grabs the small trash can from under the counter, setting it by your bedside, just in case you wake up sick. then he kneels beside you, heart pounding against his ribs.

your skin is warm beneath his touch as he gently wipes away the concealer, the mascara, and the lipgloss that’s smeared at the corners of your mouth.

he’s careful, touch light as a feather. he does this because he knows you’ll complain in the morning —about waking up with makeup on, about the inevitable breakouts — and he can’t stand the thought of you being unhappy, not even about something so small.

you stir, murmuring something unintelligible, but don’t wake. he trashes the soiled wipes and clambers to his feet. he’s almost at the door, hand on the doorknob, ready to retreat to the couch, to be the good friend he’s supposed to be. when he hears you call out to him.

“don’t go.” you sigh. he freezes, his breath catching in his throat. he turns slowly, heart hammering against his ribs.

your face is illuminated by the moonlight filtering through your curtains. your lip is quivering and he can make out the tortured expression on your face. satoru wants to wrap you in his arms and never let go.

“please,” you whisper, voice thick with sleep and alcohol and something he can’t quite place a finger on. he hopes it’s affection.

something inside him breaks. something that’s been held together by sheer willpower. by the conscious effort to keep his distance, to be what you need him to be. “okay,” he practically whimpers

he crosses back to your bed hesitantly. you shift, making room, so, so trusting. “need a shirt,” you mumble, pointing a shaky finger at your dresser. he grabs the first one he finds, cotton worn thin from a hundred washes. it smells faintly of detergent and you.

you sit up, swaying and he’s there in an instant, his hand cupping the back of your head, steadying you against the headboard. “careful”

satoru focuses on the wall, on the ceiling, on anything but the sound of fabric rustling. the glimpse of skin he catches in his peripheral vision — the delicate curve of your spine — makes his cheeks flush. you toss your dress on the floor in a heap of silk and sequins and you pull the shirt on.

“bra,” you say, your voice muffled. you fumble behind your back, your fingers clumsy, useless. “. . . help”

( satoru knows you’re trying to kill him, he just can’t prove it yet )

“okay,” his voice is a strangled whisper. he’s not sure he can manage more than a syllable. his hand trembles as he reaches behind you, fingers trailing up your back, brushing against your warm skin as he finds the clasp.

it’s a piece of fabric with tiny pieces of metal, he knows it’s not going to bite him. but he’s still shaking because this feels too monumental. you shiver at his touch when he finally gets it loose. he pulls back as if he’s been burned.

“thanks,” you murmur, pulling your straps beneath your t-shirt and shrugging your bra off. you settle back against your pillows, and after a moment’s hesitation, satoru lies beside you, the mattress dips beneath his weight.

you shift closer, until you’re pressed against his side, your head on his shoulder, body fitting against his like it was made to be there. beside him.

“you’re too good to me,” you whisper, “you’re the best friend i’ve ever had.”

satoru can’t respond. can’t trust his voice not to crack. he just hums, a short, pained sound that gets lost in the darkness of your room.

best friend.

the words echo in his head. he’s perpetually stuck in the friendzone. and the absolute worst part, is he’d rather be here than anywhere else in the world. he’d rather suffer like this, than not have you at all.

he listens as your breathing evens out, as you drift deeper into sleep, your body growing heavy and limp against his. his arm’s gone numb from your weight but he wouldn’t move for the world.

in the morning, you’ll wake up embarrassed, make jokes about how you owe him one, and satoru will smile, will pretend it doesn’t hurt, will go back to being just your best friend.

but right now, he lets himself pretend this is normal, pretend that he gets to have you like this always. deludes himself into thinking that when you wake up, you’ll see what’s been right in front of you all along.

this is inspired by something @plaguecxlt told me so you can blame them for it (affectionately ♡) tysm for inspiring me and helping me get out very difficult emotions at the same time ily <3 anyway sorry about this one guys

taglist @madamechrissy @septembermoonchild @plaguecxlt @nanamitiddiechomper @kekeanna266 @amazedfor @dogggggggblog-kaye @literallyadarling @dawnsoblivion @chewiebee @iquitfindingausername @valberryboos @pwd54gr54 @raendarkfaerie @bbfawns @itimisu @sapph22 @bornafairy @sukunahs @hatchus2

Toji didn’t waste time. His large hand caught your wrist, tugging you forward until your chest bumped his. “Missed this pretty little body,” he rumbled, voice low and mean, the way it always got when he wanted something. His other palm slid down your side, fingers digging into your hip hard enough to bruise, yanking your shirt up without asking. Choso stepped closer too, hesitant at first, but when you didn’t pull away his hands joined in, gentler but just as eager, peeling the fabric over your head until cool air kissed your bare skin.

Clothes came off in a messy rush. Toji ripped your bra down your arms with a grunt, tossing it aside like it offended him, while Choso’s fingers worked your jeans open, pushing them down your legs along with your panties in one careful tug. You were naked between them in seconds, skin prickling under their stares. 

Toji’s gaze dragged over you slow and possessive, grumpy old bastard that he was, muttering, “Still lookin’ like you were made for me, huh?” Choso said nothing, just pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder, his long hair brushing your cheek as his hands roamed your waist.

They walked you backward through the hallway, Toji’s bulk guiding the way with that dominant swagger he never lost, one arm hooked around your middle while Choso followed close on your other side.

The bedroom door swung open and they pushed you inside, the backs of your knees hitting the mattress before you even realized. Toji shoved you down onto the edge of the bed, standing tall over you, already palming the thick bulge straining his pants. “On your knees, sweetheart. Been thinkin’ about that mouth wrapin’ around me all night.”

You sank down obediently, the carpet soft under your knees, and tilted your head up at him with a sweet little smile that made his green eyes narrow. “Choso,” you called softly, patting the spot beside you. “Come here, baby.”

Toji’s brows shot up. “Wait, what the fuck? You ain’t callin’ him over to suck my cock or watch like some this is some goddamn show. This ain’t—”

“Shut up, Toji,” you cut in, voice calm but firm, the same tone you used when he used to push too far back when he was yours. He actually paused, jaw ticking, that scowl deepening, but he didn’t stop you. 

Choso knelt beside you without hesitation, cheeks faintly pink under the dim lamp light, his dark eyes flicking up to yours for approval. You turned to him first, cupping his face and pulling him into a slow, deep kiss, tongues sliding lazy and wet while your hand drifted down to palm Toji’s cock through his unzipped pants. 

You freed him, thick and heavy and already leaking at the tip, stroking him firm and steady as you made sure Toji watched every second of the kiss— the way Choso melted into it, soft little hum vibrating against your lips.

When you finally broke the kiss, a string of spit connecting you both for a moment, you smiled at Choso and murmured, “Be a good boy for me. Suck him.”

Toji barked a laugh, rough and disbelieving. “Fuck no. You serious? He ain’t—”

You shot him a look. “I said shut up and let him.”

Choso was shy about it at first, hesitating as he leaned in, but the second his pretty mouth wrapped around the head of Toji’s cock, the older man’s hips jerked and a low, shocked groan tore from his throat. “Oh my fuck…” Toji’s hand came down to tangle in Choso’s long hair, not guiding yet, just holding on as that warm, wet heat enveloped him.

Choso’s mouth was perfect— soft lips stretching around the girth, tongue swirling, lazy circles over the swollen head, lapping at the precum like he was savouring it. He took more, cheeks hollowing as he bobbed slowly, one hand braced on Toji’s thick thigh while the other came up to gently roll and tug at his heavy balls.

You watched with a satisfied little smile, still kneeling right there beside him, your hand resting on Choso’s back in quiet praise. “That’s it, good boy,” you cooed softly, voice dripping honey. “Just like that. Use your tongue more on the head, baby— he likes that.”

Toji’s head fell back for a second, a guttural curse spilling out as Choso obeyed instantly, licking broad stripes up the underside before sucking the tip back into that slick heat, eyes fluttering half-closed like he was lost in it. The contrast hit Toji hard— the way Choso moved so obediently, no backtalk, no attitude, just pure eager submission. He looked almost like a well-trained pet, kneeling there pretty and focused, long hair spilling over his shoulders while he worked Toji’s cock deeper into his throat with wet, obscene sounds.

“Fuck, ma,” Toji grunted, voice rougher now, hips twitching as he stared down at the scene. His free hand reached out to grip your chin, tilting your face up so he could see your smile. “You got him well trained like a dog. This the kinda shit you’re into now? Lettin’ your new boytoy slobber all over your ex’s dick just ‘cause you say so?”

You leaned into his touch, still smiling, eyes sparkling with that quiet triumph. “Yeah,” you said simply, voice soft and warm as you stroked Choso’s hair. “Choso listens. He’s good for me. Never argued or made everything a fight… unlike someone.”

Toji’s laugh came out breathless, a mix of annoyance and reluctant heat, his cock twitching hard between Choso’s lips as the younger man hollowed his cheeks again, taking him even deeper with a soft, muffled moan.

Choso’s tongue pressed flat against the vein running underneath, swirling and teasing, while his fingers continued their gentle massage on Toji’s balls, coaxing more precum to leak onto his tongue.

Toji’s grip tightened in Choso’s dark hair, but he didn’t force the pace— couldn’t, not when it felt this fucking good, that shy obedience wrapping around him tighter than any attitude ever had.

You stayed right there, naked and kneeling between them, one hand on Choso’s thigh for balance and the other occasionally reaching up to trace Toji’s abs, feeling the way his muscles jumped under your touch.

The bedroom filled with the wet sounds of Choso’s mouth, Toji’s low grunts, and your quiet praises whispered like secrets. “Good boy, Choso… swallow around him, just like that. See how much he likes it when you’re sweet for him?”

Choso hummed in response, the vibration making Toji hiss through his teeth, green eyes narrowing down at you with that familiar mean edge softened by raw pleasure. “You’re enjoyin’ this way too much, brat,” he muttered, but there was no real bite left in it— not when his cock was buried in that perfect, warm mouth and you were watching him unravel with that knowing little smile.

Toji’s hips twitched again, thicker veins pulsing against Choso’s tongue as the younger man kept working him slow and deep, cheeks hollowed, lashes fluttering like he was lost in the taste.

That wet heat dragged along every inch, tongue pressing flat and swirling lazy circles around the swollen head before sliding back down until the tip nudged the back of Choso’s throat. 

Choso didn’t gag, didn’t pull away— just swallowed around him with a soft, obedient little sound that had Toji’s abs tightening, a low growl rumbling in his chest.

The older man’s hand stayed tangled in all that dark hair, fingers flexing like he wanted to fist it tight and fuck into that pretty mouth until tears spilled down Choso’s cheeks, but he held back, jaw clenched, breathing rough through his nose. Cocky bastard that he was, even he could feel how perfectly Choso was sucking him off, all shy devotion and slick warmth that made his balls draw up tighter with every pass.

You stayed kneeling right beside them, naked skin flushed warm, smiling that soft, satisfied smile while your hand rested on Choso’s thigh, thumb stroking gentle circles of praise. The sight of Toji trying so hard to keep control, hips barely rocking forward instead of slamming deep, sent a sweet thrill curling low in your belly.

Choso’s mouth made the filthiest sounds— wet slurps and quiet gulps, saliva already dripping down his chin and coating Toji’s heavy length in shiny streaks.

Toji’s gaze finally snapped to you, green eyes dark and hungry, his free hand shot out fast, fingers threading rough through your hair and yanking your head back so you had no choice but to look up at him.

The pull stung just enough to make you gasp, lips parting on a soft breath. “Eyes on me, sweetheart,” he growled, voice gravel-rough and mean. “You’re smilin’ like you won somethin’. Wet those pretty lips for me.”

He pulled out of Choso’s mouth with a wet pop, the thick head glistening, strings of saliva and precum webbing between Choso’s swollen lips and Toji’s cock like glistening threads that stretched and broke as he moved. Choso stayed kneeling there, breathing hard, lips shiny and parted, a faint blush high on his cheeks as he looked at you both with those dark, obedient eyes.

You swallowed once, throat bobbing, and Toji’s smirk sharpened, cock twitching in the cool air. “Come on, you little brat,” he said, low and taunting, tugging your hair again to tilt your face exactly where he wanted it. “Put that evil little mouth to work. Been watchin’ you direct your pet like a fuckin’ conductor— now show me what that smart mouth can really do.”

Your smile never faded, only curved wider as you leaned in, tongue darting out to trace the messy trail of spit and precum still clinging to him. Choso watched quietly from beside you, one hand resting lightly on your knee like he was waiting for whatever you’d tell him next. Toji’s grip in your hair stayed firm, guiding you closer until your lips brushed the slick head, the salty taste blooming across your tongue as you opened for him.

The bedroom air felt thicker now, heavy with the scent of skin and want, the three of you tangled in that messy heat where Toji’s dominance clashed against Choso’s sweet obedience and your quiet control. You took him in slow at first, lips stretching around his girth, tongue swirling just like you’d told Choso to do, while Toji’s low groan filled the room and his fingers tightened in your hair, hips finally giving one shallow thrust forward. 

A low sound slipped from your throat as Toji pulled free and slapped his thick, spit-slick cock against your parted lips, the heavy weight of it landing wet and deliberate, smearing more of that messy mix of precum and Choso’s saliva across your mouth.

He did it again, harder this time, the wet smack echoing soft in the quiet bedroom while his scarred lips pulled into that mean, cocky grin. “That’s it, open wider, brat. Gonna fuck this throat pretty tonight— been thinkin’ about shuttin’ you up like this for months.”

He despised you, or at least that’s what the rough grip in your hair said, the way his fingers twisted tighter like he wanted to punish you for walking out, for replacing him with someone so sweetly obedient. But underneath scowl and the low growl in his chest, Toji knew you could take it. You always had. His hips rolled forward slow at first, feeding you inch after thick inch until the head nudged the back of your throat and your eyes watered just a little.

You swallowed around him anyway, lips stretched wide, tongue pressing flat along the underside as he started to thrust deeper, setting a steady, punishing rhythm that made your throat bulge faintly with every push.

Choso stayed knelt right beside you the whole time, dark eyes wide and fixed on the way your mouth worked Toji’s cock, the wet gluck-gluck sounds filling the room as spit dribbled down your chin and onto your bare tits. He didn’t move, didn’t speak, just watched with that shy heat blooming across his cheeks, his own cock hard and untouched between his thighs.

Toji noticed. Of course he did. Without missing a single thrust into your throat, he reached down with his free hand and caught Choso under the chin, tilting that pretty face up towards him. “C’mere, pet,” he rumbled, voice rough but almost amused. “Give me a kiss while your girl chokes on me.”

You tried to pull back just enough to say something, a soft protest bubbling up around his cock, but Toji yanked your head forward again, burying himself deeper until your nose pressed against his pelvis and your words dissolved into a muffled gag. “Shut up and keep suckin’,” he snapped down at you, green eyes flashing with that familiar mean edge. “And watch. Eyes open, sweetheart. Don’t you dare look away.”

Choso hesitated for half a second, shy as always, but when Toji’s thumb brushed his bottom lip he leaned in obediently. Toji grabbed him harder then, fingers sliding into that long dark hair as he crushed their mouths together in a deep, filthy kiss. It wasn’t soft.

It was all tongue and teeth and dominance, Toji’s jaw working as he licked into Choso’s mouth like he owned it, swallowing the soft, surprised whimper that spilled from the younger man. Choso melted almost instantly, shoulders slumping, eyes fluttering shut as he kissed back with that quiet eagerness he always gave you— hands coming up to rest lightly on Toji’s broad chest, body leaning closer like he couldn’t help it.

You watched every second of it, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes from the relentless pace Toji set in your throat, but the sight burned hotter than anything.

Choso’s lashes trembling against his cheeks, a faint moan vibrating between their locked lips as Toji kissed him harder, tongue stroking deep and possessive while his hips kept snapping forward into your mouth.

Spit trailed from the corner of Choso’s lips, his cheeks flushed darker, and when Toji finally pulled back just enough for them to breathe, a thin string of saliva still connected them for a moment before breaking.

Toji’s laugh came out low and breathless, thumb swiping over Choso’s swollen bottom lip as he looked down at you. “Fuck, look at him. So damn well-trained. One kiss and he’s already drippin’ for it.” His cock twitched hard against your tongue, the praise mixed with taunt making your stomach twist in the best way.

You kept sucking through it all, hollowing your cheeks, swallowing around every thick thrust while your eyes stayed locked on the way Choso stayed pliant and open, lips parted and shiny, waiting for whatever came next.

Toji’s green eyes flicked between the two of you, that mean smirk deepening as he kept his hips rolling slow and deep into your throat. “She has you so fuckin’ obedient, huh?” he rumbled, voice thick with gravel and heat. “Bet you never fucked her throat like this. She’s a little brat, don’t let her fool ya. Acts all sweet and in control, but look at her— mouth stuffed full and still smilin’ around my cock.”

You tried to pull back just enough to say something, a soft protest bubbling up, but Toji didn’t let you. He fucked forward harder instead, burying himself to the hilt until your nose pressed flush against his pelvis and your throat convulsed around him. “See?” he growled, holding you there, eyes narrowing with dark satisfaction. “She doesn’t even fuckin’ gag anymore. Loves this shit. Been cravin’ it since she left my sorry ass, I bet.”

The stretch burned so good, spit dripping down your chin in messy rivulets as you breathed hard through your nose, tears clinging to your lashes. Toji kept you pinned like that for a long moment, savouring the tight heat, before he finally pulled out with a wet, obscene pop.

Thick strings of saliva and precum connected your swollen lips to his glistening cock before they broke, and you gasped for air, chest heaving, throat raw and tingling.

Toji stepped back, cock heavy and slick between his thighs, and dropped onto the bed with a grunt, sprawling out on his back like he owned the damn mattress. His muscles flexing under scarred skin as he stroked himself once, slow and lazy, green eyes locked on you with that cocky, command. “Get your ass up here, sweetheart. You're gonna take all of this cock. Now.”

You were still catching your breath, lips shiny and parted, but you moved anyway, crawling up the bed on shaky knees. Choso was right there, gentle hands sliding under your arms to help you up, supporting your weight with that quiet care he always gave you. His touch was soft against your flushed skin, thumb brushing your side like a silent promise as he guided you over Toji’s lap.

As you crawled forward, knees bracketing Toji’s thick thighs, hovering just above his heavy, leaking cock, Toji’s gaze shifted to Choso. “Come on, don’t just stand there like a lost puppy,” he said, voice low and rough, one hand reaching out to pat the bed beside him. “You don’t mind fuckin’ her pussy right? While she’s sittin’ on me, fuckin’ get over here.”

Choso’s cheeks flushed darker, shy with hesitation flickering across his face for half a second, but he obeyed like always, climbing onto the bed without a word. You felt the mattress dip under his weight as he settled close, one hand resting on your lower back, warm and steady. Toji’s palms gripped your hips hard, fingers digging in with that possessive meanness as he yanked you down just enough for the blunt head of his cock to nudge against your dripping entrance, teasing, waiting.

Toji didn’t wait long. With a low grunt he bucked his hips up, thick cock pressing into your cunt in one slow, relentless push. The stretch was brutal and perfect, that fat length splitting you open until your walls fluttered tight around every veined inch. You sank all the way down until your ass met his pelvis, a broken moan spilling from your raw throat as he bottomed out deep inside you.

Toji’s scarred hands stayed locked on your hips, holding you there, grinding you down harder so you felt every thick inch pulsing against your sensitive walls.

“Fuck, still so goddamn tight,” he muttered, voice rough and mean, green eyes half-lidded as he looked up at you. “Missed this greedy little pussy. Swallowing me like it never forgot who it belongs to.”

You rocked your hips experimentally, a soft gasp escaping as the head of his cock nudged that spot inside you that made your toes curl. Choso stayed right behind you, quiet and watchful, his warm palm sliding up your spine in gentle strokes while his other hand rested lightly on your hip. His dark eyes were fixed on where you and Toji were joined, lips still swollen from that shared kiss earlier, a faint flush creeping down his neck.

Toji noticed the way Choso hovered, all shy obedience and quiet heat. His smirk sharpened, one hand leaving your hip to reach over and tug Choso closer by the back of his neck. “Don’t just sit there starin’, pet. Get in her. You heard me earlier— you’re fuckin’ her pussy too.”

Choso’s breath hitched, shy as always, but he moved without argument, shifting until he was kneeling behind you on the bed. His long hair brushed your bare back as he leaned in, chest pressing warm against you, cock hard and leaking as it nestled against the curve of your ass.

Toji kept you pinned down on his thick length, hips giving lazy little rolls that made you whimper, while Choso’s hands settled on your waist, gentle and careful like he was afraid to break you.

You felt Choso’s fingers first, tentative as they slid between your spread thighs, brushing where Toji’s cock was already stretching you wide.

He traced the slick stretch of your cunt with soft fingertips, collecting the mess of your arousal before wrapping his hand around his own cock, guiding the head to nudge right beside Toji’s. 

The pressure was overwhelming— two thick cocks pressing against your entrance at once, Choso’s shy hesitation making him pause until you reached back and squeezed his thigh in encouragement.

Toji laughed under his breath, that low, cocky sound. “That’s it. Push in slow, kid. She can take it. Little brat’s already drippin’ down my balls thinkin’ about both of us stretchin’ her.”

Choso obeyed, pressing forward with a soft, shaky exhale. The blunt head of his cock slipped in alongside Toji’s, the burn intense and delicious as your walls stretched even wider to take them both. Inch by inch he sank deeper, his cock sliding against Toji’s inside your tight heat, the friction making both men groan low and heavy.

You cried out, head falling back against Choso’s shoulder, body trembling between them as they filled you completely— Toji’s girthy thickness and Choso’s warm length buried deep together.

Toji’s hands gripped your hips harder, holding you still while he gave one experimental thrust up, making both cocks shift inside you and drag against every sensitive spot.

Choso stayed mostly still at first, arms wrapped around your middle, face buried in the crook of your neck as he breathed hot against your skin, letting you adjust to the overwhelming fullness.

“Fuck… so tight,” Toji grunted, voice strained with pleasure, hips rolling up again in a deeper thrust that made you see stars. “Look at her, takin’ us both like she was made for it. You feel that, pet? How she’s squeezin’ around us?”

Choso nodded against your neck, a soft whimper escaping him as he started to move too— slow, careful rolls of his hips that matched Toji’s rhythm, their cocks sliding together inside your slick cunt.

The wet, filthy sounds of skin against skin and the slick drag of two thick lengths stretching you open filled the bedroom, your moans mixing with their low grunts as they fucked you together.

Toji’s large, rough hands slid up from your hips, palms rough and calloused as they cupped your tits, squeezing the soft flesh with that familiar possessive grip. He pinched your nipples between his thick fingers, rolling them until they pebbled hard under his touch, a mean little smirk tugging at his scarred lips when you arched into it with a broken cry. “These pretty tits always did look best when they’re bouncin’ for me,” he growled, voice low and pleased, green eyes dark with heat as he lifted his head from the pillow just enough to latch his mouth onto one swollen nipple.

He sucked hard, tongue swirling hot and wet around the sensitive bud, teeth grazing just enough to make you jolt between them. The wet pull of his mouth sent sparks straight down to where both cocks were buried deep inside your stretched pussy, your walls fluttering tight around the overwhelming fullness.

Choso kept fucking you from behind with those gentle, obedient thrusts, his cock sliding slick alongside Toji’s, every slow drag pressing them both against that perfect spot inside you that made your thighs tremble uncontrollably.

Toji switched to your other tit, sucking it into the heat of his mouth with a low, satisfied hum, his free hand still kneading the first one, thumb flicking over the spit-slick nipple he’d just released. He loved having you like this— caught between them, body trembling and moaning, that quiet control of yours fraying at the edges while two fat cocks stretched your pretty little cunt wide open.

Toji’s hips snapped up harder, driving his thick length deeper with every thrust, the lewd squelch of your arousal coating both of them growing louder as he fucked up into you with that cocky, relentless rhythm.

“Look at you,” Toji muttered against your skin, lips brushing your nipple as he spoke, voice muffled and rough. “Takin’ two cocks like a good girl. Your pussy’s so fuckin’ greedy, squeezin’ us both so tight. Bet you missed this, huh? Missed gettin’ split open by somethin’ real after playin’ house with your obedient puppy.”

You moaned louder, head falling back against Choso’s shoulder, body rocking between their thrusts as the pleasure built heavy and overwhelming. 

Choso’s arms stayed wrapped around your waist, holding you steady while he fucked into you with that same shy care, his breath hot and ragged against your neck, soft whimpers spilling from him every time your walls clenched around their joined lengths. 

Toji kept sucking on your tits, alternating between them with wet, obscene sounds, biting down gently before soothing the sting with his tongue, his free hand sliding down to rub rough circles over your swollen clit.

The stretch was so much— both fat cocks dragging together inside your slick heat, Toji’s dominance pinning you from below and Choso supporting you from behind, every thrust pushing you closer to the edge. 

Toji pulled off your nipple with a wet pop, lips shiny with spit, and grinned up at you with a cocky smirk. “That’s it, moan for us, sweetheart. Let me hear how much you love bein’ stuffed full. Choso’s bein’ so good for you, fuckin’ this pussy nice and deep just like I told him to. But me? I’m gonna make sure you feel every inch tomorrow.”

He thrust up harder, grinding his cock against Choso’s inside you, the friction making stars burst behind your eyes as your moans turned into desperate little cries. 

Choso pressed a soft kiss to the side of your neck, murmuring your name quietly, his hips never stopping their steady rhythm while Toji’s rough hands and hungry mouth worked your tits until they ached with pleasure. 

You were lost between them, body trembling and slick with sweat, pussy clenching tight around the two thick lengths stretching you so perfectly, the heat building slow and relentless as Toji teased you with every filthy word and every deep, claiming thrust.

Toji loved every second of it— the way you fell apart so beautifully, the way Choso stayed so sweet even while buried deep inside the same cunt, the way your quiet little smile had turned into open-mouthed moans that filled the room. 

He kept sucking and biting at your tits, fingers rolling your nipples, hips snapping up to meet Choso’s thrusts until the three of you moved in one messy, heated rhythm, the night stretching long and filthy with the sounds of skin slapping, wet squelches, and your broken cries echoing between the walls.

A broken little sound tore from your throat as both thick cocks dragged together inside your stretched pussy, the relentless push and pull making your walls flutter and clench around the overwhelming fullness. 

Toji’s hips snapped up harder from below, driving his fat length deeper with every thrust while Choso kept that steady rhythm from behind, their cocks sliding slick and hot against each other in the tight heat of your cunt. The wet, filthy squelch filled the room, your arousal dripping down their shafts and coating their balls as they fucked you open so good.

Toji’s mouth was still latched onto your tit, sucking hard enough to leave marks before he pulled off with a wet pop, lips shiny and swollen as he grinned up at you with that mean, cocky smirk. 

His rough hand slid up to cup your jaw, forcing your head down so you had no choice but to meet his dark green eyes while he kept pounding up into you. “C’mon, sweetheart,” he growled, voice low and gravel-rough, thumb pressing against your bottom lip. “Admit it. Tell me what you are. A little brat who wants these cocks stretchin’ your greedy cunt. Say it.”

You tried to bite back the words, a soft whimper escaping instead as another deep thrust from both of them made your eyes roll back, but Toji wasn’t having it. He pinched your nipple hard, twisting just enough to make you cry out, his other hand gripping your hip tighter to hold you down on their joined lengths. “Don’t play shy now. You’re drippin’ all over us, pussy clenchin’ like it’s beggin’ for more. Tell me you want our cocks. Tell me you want our cum fillin’ this sloppy little hole.”

Choso stayed quiet behind you, arms wrapped around your waist, his breath hot and shaky against your neck as he fucked into you with those gentle rolls of his hips, letting Toji take the lead like always. His cock throbbed alongside Toji’s, the friction delicious and overwhelming, every slow drag pressing right against that spot that made sparks shoot up your spine. He pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder, shy and sweet, but didn’t stop moving, loving even in the middle of all this heat.

The stretch was so good it hurt, both fat cocks splitting your cunt wide open, dragging against every sensitive inch until you felt impossibly full, impossibly owned. Your tits bounced with every thrust, still slick from Toji’s mouth, nipples aching from his teeth and fingers. Toji’s hand slid down between your bodies, rough fingers finding your swollen clit and rubbing fast, mean circles that had your thighs shaking uncontrollably.

“Say it,” Toji demanded again, voice dropping lower, hips slamming up harder so the head of his cock bullied that perfect spot inside you while Choso’s length rubbed right alongside it. “You’re my little brat— our little brat. You want these cocks stretchin’ you good. You want us to fill your pussy with cum until it’s leakin’ out for days. Admit it, brat. Loud and clear.”

Your moans turned into desperate little cries, body trembling between them as the pleasure built hotter and heavier, walls squeezing tight around both thick shafts. Toji’s smirk widened, that cockiness flashing in his eyes as he felt you clench harder, knowing he was winning. Choso whimpered softly against your skin, his thrusts growing a little deeper, a little faster, following every cue you’d ever given him because he always listened, always gave you exactly what you needed.

You finally broke, voice wrecked and breathy as the words spilled out between moans. “I’m… I’m a-a brat… I want your cocks… both of you stretching my cunt so good… I want your cum… please…”

Toji laughed low and rough, satisfaction dripping from every syllable as he thrust up harder, grinding their cocks together inside your fluttering pussy. “That’s my girl. Keep sayin’ it while we fuck you full. Gonna fill this greedy hole until you’re drippin’ with both of us.”

The bedroom echoed with the wet slap of skin, your broken admissions, and the low grunts from both men as they kept fucking you together— Toji and Choso turning your body into a trembling, moaning mess caught right between them, the stretch so perfect and filthy that all you could do was take it and beg for more.

Together they fucked you deeper and harder, hips snapping in a messy, unrelenting rhythm that had both thick cocks driving into your stretched cunt at once. Toji thrusting up slamming his fat length as deep as it would go while Choso followed from behind with those steady rolls that somehow made everything feel even fuller, your arousal coating their shafts and dripping down to soak the sheets beneath you as they stretched your pussy so wide it ached in the best way.

You could feel the bulge in your tummy every time they bottomed out together, the outline of their cocks pressing visibly against your lower belly, shifting and dragging with every thrust. Toji’s rough hand slid down to press against that spot, palm flat and heavy as he growled against your tit, “Fuck, feel that? That’s us, sweetheart. Both cocks bulgin’ out your pretty tummy like you were made to take this.”

The pressure built fast and overwhelming, your walls fluttering tighter and tighter around them until you couldn’t hold back anymore. Your orgasm crashed over you hard, a sharp cry tearing from your throat as you clenched down violently around both cocks, milking them with rhythmic, desperate pulses.

Your whole body shook between them, thighs trembling, back arching as wave after wave rolled through you, pussy gushing slick and hot around their joined lengths while the bulge in your tummy twitched and tightened with every spasm.

Choso whimpered softly against your neck, his hips stuttering as your clenching cunt squeezed him so perfectly. “Ah—fuck… you’re squeezin’ so tight,” he breathed, voice shy and wrecked, and then he was cumming too, thick ropes of warm cum spilling deep inside you in pulsing spurts. He kept thrusting through it, slow and careful even as he filled you, his cock throbbing alongside Toji’s while he painted your walls white, the added heat and slickness making the stretch feel even messier, even better.

Toji groaned low and rough at the feeling, his scarred hands gripping your hips bruisingly tight as he fucked up into the slick, cum-filled heat of your pussy. “That’s it, milk us, you little brat,” he grunted, green eyes dark with raw pleasure as he watched your face contort in bliss. “Clenchin’ so good around both of us— fuck, take it all.”

He didn’t last much longer after that. With a deep, guttural growl he slammed up one final time, burying himself to the hilt as his cock pulsed hard and started to cum, thick, heavy spurts of cum flooding your already full cunt right alongside Choso’s. The warmth spread deep inside you, both loads mixing together in messy, overflowing pulses that leaked out around their cocks with every shallow grind of their hips, dripping down your thighs and soaking their balls.

They stayed buried inside you even as they came down, chests heaving, bodies pressed tight around yours in a sweaty, trembling tangle. Toji’s hand stayed pressed to the bulge in your tummy, feeling the way it softened just a little with every twitch of your walls, while Choso nuzzled softly into the crook of your neck, pressing lazy kisses to your damp skin and murmuring quiet praises against you.

The bedroom air hung heavy with the scent of sex and sweat, the three of you locked together in that filthy, heated aftermath— your pussy still clenching weakly around their spent cocks, cum slowly leaking out in warm rivulets, Toji’s mean little smirk still playing on his lips even as his breathing evened out, and Choso’s gentle hold never loosening because he always stayed right where you wanted him.

They stayed buried deep for a long, lazy moment, cocks still twitching inside your fluttering cunt as the last weak spurts of cum leaked from them both. Then, slowly, Toji gave a low grunt and started to pull out first, his thick length dragging against Choso’s as he eased free with a wet, obscene sound. 

Choso followed right after, gentler, his cock sliding out inch by inch until both heavy shafts slipped from your stretched hole completely. A thick rush of their mixed cum immediately dripped out of you, warm and pearly white, sliding down your thighs in slow, messy rivulets and pooling on the sheets beneath your trembling body.

You collapsed forward onto Toji’s broad chest with a soft, exhausted sigh, cheek pressing against the hard muscle slick with sweat. His skin was warm, scarred, rising and falling with heavy breaths as one of his large arms wrapped around your back, holding you there like he still had every right to. Choso stayed close behind you, his gentle hands smoothing over your hips and lower back, pressing soft kisses along your shoulder blade while his long hair tickled your skin.

Toji’s free hand slid down between your legs without warning, two thick fingers pushing back into your ruined pussy. The stretch was easy now, your walls loose and slick from taking both of them, and he scooped up the warm mixture of their cum that was still leaking out. With a lazy, filthy motion he fingered it all back inside you, slow and deliberate, pushing every drop deeper while his palm pressed firm against your swollen clit. The wet squelch of his fingers working their combined loads back into your cunt filled the quiet room, obscene and intimate all at once.

“Look at that,” Toji muttered, voice low and rough, smirk tugging at his scarred lips as he watched his fingers disappear inside you again and again. “Such a messy girl. Can’t even keep our cum inside this greedy pussy without help. Need to push it all back in where it belongs… bet you love feelin’ us drippin’ out of you, don’t you?”

You whimpered softly against his chest, hips twitching weakly as his thick fingers curled and stroked, making sure every thick rope of their release stayed buried deep. Choso’s hand joined Toji’s for a moment, tentative fingers brushing alongside as he helped press the cum back inside you, his touch so much gentler but just as eager to keep you full. The feeling of both their hands between your legs, fingers sliding through the slick mess they’d made, had fresh heat curling low in your belly even though your body felt spent and boneless.

Toji kept fingering their cum back into you, lazily, occasionally pulling his fingers out just enough to watch more of it drip before pushing it right back in with a low chuckle. “There we go… nice and full again. Gonna keep you leakin’ our loads all night, sweetheart. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it? Both of us markin’ up this tight little cunt.”

Choso stayed pressed against your back, arms wrapped around your waist now, murmuring quiet, sweet words against your skin while Toji’s fingers continued their slow, filthy work. You lay there between them, cheek on Toji’s warm chest, listening to the steady thump of his heart as the cum slowly settled deep inside you, warm and heavy, a constant reminder of how thoroughly they’d claimed you tonight.

The bedroom felt heavy and quiet now, bodies tangled and slick with sweat, the air thick with the scent of sex and satisfaction. Toji’s fingers eventually slowed but didn’t leave you completely, still lazily stroking through the mess as if he couldn’t quite stop touching what was his again, even for a little while. 

Choso’s gentle hold never loosened, his breath warm against your neck, and you smiled softly against Toji’s skin, that quiet little smile that said you were exactly where you wanted to be— caught between your mean ex and your sweet boy, full of both of them, leaking and claimed and perfectly satisfied.

To think that the two of you weren’t even that close before all of this had transpired, brought together via a mutual friend who’d known you needed a place to live when Sukuna was looking for a housemate. You’d only ever really shared niceties in the kitchen back then, never intruding much on the other’s life.

How quickly things could change, because now you viewed Sukuna as your saviour, the one person left that you could rely on. Sharing the trauma of watching your mutual friend get his throat ripped out did wonders to bond people. 

And so did the nights huddled back to back, weapons clutched to your chest as undead rattled the fortified boards covering the door of your apartment, the warmth of Sukuna’s back against yours serving as the only anchor keeping you from taking your knife and slitting your own throat.

He was the one thing keeping you from falling into total despair.

If it was up to you alone you would’ve gotten nowhere. You’d be curled up in a ball in your bed, too afraid to leave the apartment. Starvation would’ve gotten to you by now if the undead hadn’t found their way to you first. It was only Sukuna’s gruff insistence on survival that had kept you moving. 

The two of you had stayed in your apartment for as long as was reasonable after the outbreak. You’d been having a gathering on the night it happened, with your mutual friend Satoru and his partner Suguru round at your house for a scary movie night. You’d dismissed the screaming in the hallway as part of the movie, only daring to peek your heads out of the doorway after the credits had rolled and you realised those screams were real. 

That was the instant that things were over for Satoru. 

The nice old lady from down the hall was right outside your door, clamping her teeth around his neck, blood gushing all over the walls and the floor. Suguru had tried to pull her off him only to be ripped apart by his own partner. 

And you’d stood there frozen, brain unable to comprehend the scene before you, a horror that didn’t fit in with your view of reality. But Sukuna was fast, the type of man who could adapt to any situation. His hand had yanked you back by your hoodie, slamming the door shut and locking it, barking at you to get back as he pushed a chair up against the wood. 

You’d waited that night out shivering, sobbing softly every time you closed your eyes and saw your friend’s red eyes, the blood dripping from his lips as he feasted on his lover. Sukuna hadn’t comforted you, hadn’t really said anything, he just spent the night standing in front of the door, baseball bat in hand, ready for anything that might enter. 

The banging on the door stopped eventually, but the low groan of undead from the hallways and out in the courtyard was unwavering. You felt fortunate that your apartment was on the second floor, for the sound of windows breaking had been familiar on that first night, with undead swarming the lowest level of the apartment block. 

For half a week you and Sukuna stayed in that apartment, making your food last as long as it could, moving through radio stations in the hope of hearing anything but static, making messages with post-it notes on your windows to signal to anyone out there that there were still people living in your apartment. 

But no one came to your rescue. 

The first few days had been buzzing with activity, helicopters overhead, police sirens blaring outside, the distant sound of guns firing in the distance. But as the days passed the world felt silent, quieter than you’d ever seen the city in your entire life. 

Even if all looked calm outside you knew that they were still out there, those creatures. It was like they went into hiding in the sunlight, finding a dark place to wait out the daytime before making their move under darkness. The nights were always hard, with you covering your ears to try and drown out that horrible shrieking from just outside your window. 

You’d taken to curling up at Sukuna’s side, clinging to him desperately, mind running wild with the idea of one of the undead making their way into your little apartment and ripping you both to shreds. He always allowed the contact, never saying the words aloud but showing you through his actions that your presence served as a comfort to him too. 

Even if he wouldn’t show it, you knew he was afraid just like you were. 

When your food ran out he deliberated going out on his own, aware of the fact that you were not the kind of person built to deal with a life-threatening scenario. He’d seen you squeal and hide your face behind a pillow whenever Satoru would intentionally jump scare you at your horror movie nights, he didn’t think you’d fare much better against an actual threat. 

But if he left you here by yourself he couldn’t be there to defend you if something happened while he was gone, and he wasn’t about to lose the one companion that he had in all of this. 

So almost a week after the outbreak the two of you ventured outside together, making sure to be as quiet as possible as you left your apartment, making your journey in the middle of the day to lower the chances of encountering any undead. 

It probably would’ve gone more smoothly if Sukuna was alone. 

Everything he did, even before the apocalypse, was calm and measured. He wasn’t the type of man who would crumble and fold under pressure, he’d always been good at getting things done no matter the circumstances. 

The same could certainly not be said for you. 

That became glaringly obvious in the way that you stumbled into a display stand in the Sainsbury’s just down from your apartment, sending bags of Cadbury’s Buttons skittering across the floor, making plenty of sound even before the wire rack smashed against the white tiles. 

It had only taken thirty seconds for the first one to arrive. Sukuna had cursed under his breath as he smashed his bat into the head of the zombie, barking at you to get behind him, perfectly aware that the knife in your shaky hands was going to do next to nothing to protect you. 

You’d watched as he’d taken down one after another, red eyes widening in horror at the realisation that the flow of bodies snapping at him wasn’t going to stop. He’d grabbed you by the arm and pulled you out through the fire exit, forced to leave the basket of food that you’d been risking your lives to collect laying abandoned on the floor as you fled. 

The two of you hadn’t made it back to the apartment that night, cut off by the group of zombies that had been attracted by the sound that you’d made. Instead you’d found refuge in a small chapel, barricading yourself into the building for the night, hearts pounding at the sound of the undead just outside the big wooden doors. 

It had been a silent evening between the two of you, guilt eating at you as you stared at Sukuna’s broad back. He’d said nothing about your mistake, but you knew that he was thinking about it, probably wishing that he didn’t have to carry around dead weight, bothered by your very presence. 

Perhaps if you killed yourself it would make life easier for him. It wasn’t like you were cut out for this. 

“We’ll get food tomorrow.” He’d said softly, pulling you from your spiralling thoughts. “It’ll be fine.” 

He’d been partially right. 

The horde of undead had moved on when the sun rose the next day, only one remaining in the Sainsbury’s that you’d visited the day before, and Sukuna caved its head in before it could so much as think about giving you a problem. You’d been quick to grab food this time around, taking care to be silent, to avoid being clumsy. 

Not for your own sake, but for Sukuna’s. It wasn’t fair that he should have to suffer for your mistakes. Not when he seemed to thrive in this environment. 

The ease at which things went down in the shop should’ve been something of a red flag. Nothing was ever easy these days, and that reminder was issued to you as soon as you made your way back to your apartment building. 

Sukuna knew that something was wrong as soon as he exited the stairwell. The atmosphere felt wrong, almost stifling. There’d already been blood on the floor and walls when you’d left the building yesterday, but he could’ve sworn that there was more now, that the rotten stench of death had grown stronger than he remembered it. 

There were two of them in your apartment. 

With the barricade down to ensure that the two of you could get back in after what was supposed to be a twenty minute trip, there had been nothing defending your little apartment. 

The creatures hadn’t seen either of you yet, lethargic in the daytime. 

He supposed that he should go and bash their heads in, make the place safe again so that the two of you could continue hiding out just like you were before. But the identities of the figures gave him pause. Their skin was torn, faces twisted almost unrecognisably, but he still knew them. 

Satoru and Suguru, in their undead bodies. 

There was no doubt in his mind that he could do it, that he could walk over there and put down the decaying corpses of his friends. But what would you think? You hadn’t seen them yet, hovering just behind Sukuna for safety. He didn’t want you to see him hurt them, didn’t want to think about the expression that you might make. 

He was certain that you already saw him as a monster, your wide eyed gaze on him in the church the night before was enough to cement the idea in his head that you viewed him differently now, that perhaps you even feared him yourself. 

No, he wouldn’t put down your friends. He’d do what he needed to in order to keep you alive, but this was unnecessary. Staying here was unnecessary, foolish even. The two of you needed to find somewhere safe, somewhere easily defendable. Perhaps a place out in the countryside where you could grow your own crops, and where the population was lower.

The city wasn’t safe, it was probably the worst place you could be. He needed to find you a quiet place to wait for all of this to blow over. Or perhaps a place to start a new life if no help was coming, but he didn’t want to think too hard about that.

So he’d ushered you out of the apartment with nothing more than a mumble about how it’d been compromised. You’d complained, because you loved to complain, about all of the important and sentimental items that you’d be leaving behind. He’d placated you by saying that you’d go back there one day when things were safe. 

He didn’t really believe that, but right now he needed to keep you happy to make his life as easy as possible. 

You’d spent the next few days bouncing from house to house, never settling for anywhere more than a night. You weren’t sure if Sukuna had a clear plan in mind, all he’d told you was that you needed to get out of the city, head into the countryside where the population was lower. It would be safer there. 

But getting out of the city had been tougher than expected. So many routes out were blocked, with cars piling up on the roads and pavement, making movement slow and treacherous. There were many moments where an undead had come crawling out from beneath a car, only for dozens more to follow, sending you and Sukuna sprinting for your lives. 

And that wasn’t the only thing slowing you down.

Winter was starting, and the days were short. It wasn’t safe to travel after nightfall, which meant that around 4pm each day you’d have to find somewhere to sleep for the night, unable to make any more progress until the sun rose again the next morning. 

Those nights were more difficult than the ones spent in your apartment, never really feeling safe in a foreign place, unsure if the location that you were in was truly safe. The two of you would take turns standing guard, staying up for hours listening for any sign of undead. You always felt grateful when it was time for Sukuna’s watch, knowing that when it was him who was awake, you were both much safer than when you were the one on watch.

During those nights you found that you couldn’t sleep without contact with your friend, too afraid to be alone, ripped awake by nightmares of Sukuna abandoning you, leaving you isolated in this terrifying world. He’d taken to letting you sleep with your head in his lap, baseball bat clutched in one hand while his other played gently with your hair. 

It was okay as long as you knew he was there. 

Days of moving and sleeping in odd places turned into three weeks, three gruelling weeks of slow progress, getting lost, and doubling back on yourselves. On more than one occasion you’d gotten yourselves trapped, forced to spend days hiding out in the basement of a department store, or barricaded in the ticket office of a tube station. 

By the time the two of you had made it all the way down to Croydon, steadily making your way south with the intention of finding some farm in Kent to wait things out, you were both exhausted. 

Sukuna was the one who made a mistake this time around, his senses not as sharp as usual, the lack of sleep starting to catch up with him. He didn’t like leaving you to stand guard - he knew how terrified it made you to be awake and alone, and he wanted to keep you sheltered from that as much as he could bear. 

But that meant that he was only averaging around three hours of sleep at night, and his brain was starting to shut down. It was why he didn’t notice the zombie clambering out from under a car, brain only catching up when the creature was almost upon you, a yell ripping from his mouth for you to watch out. 

And by some miracle you’d reacted in time, whirling around and plunging your knife into the creature’s head by sheer luck. Your eyes were wide, terrified at the sight of the undead crumpling before you. Up to this point you’d let Sukuna handle all the killing, your hands clean of the blood that his were coated in. 

You didn’t mean to scream - you should’ve been nonchalant about it, handled the situation calmly like Sukuna always did. These things weren’t people anymore, so why should it bother you? But you just couldn’t bring yourself to see it that way, a wail leaving you on instinct over the fact that you’d just buried your knife into a person.

“Fuck.” Sukuna hissed. The day was slowly turning to twilight, and your cry was loud enough to alert any creature within a mile of your presence. Eyes scanning your surroundings, he looked for a safe place to hide - a store perhaps, so that you’d be trapped in a place with resources this time. 

But this area was primarily residential, and you were surrounded only by blocks of concrete flats - buildings probably teeming with undead, likely less safe than your current position in the middle of the road. Panic gripped his chest, red eyes flitting from place to place until they settled on flashing Christmas lights on the block ahead, shining out from a balcony on the ninth floor. 

It could be a trap, could be a place that had long since been overrun by zombies. But it could also mean that there was a person alive up there, and right now that was the best shot that either of you had - especially with the sound of undead screeching rising from the end of the street, pounding footsteps honing in on you. 

Grabbing your arm, he pulled you away from the zombie that you were standing over, horror written all over your pretty face as your hands trembled, the knife that you were holding clattered to the ground as he pulled you away urgently, making for the flat block ahead of you. 

At the bottom of the building you were met with a barricade. A pile of shopping trolleys piled up on top of each other. It wasn’t impassible, not for those with human intellect, but it would definitely slow someone down. Perhaps it would stop undead entirely, though that was likely wishful thinking. Sukuna pushed you to go through first, encouraging you forward as he glanced back at the pack of a dozen undead on your tail. 

They were so fucking fast. He’d watched every season of the Walking Dead and that shit seemed like an absolute cakewalk in comparison to what life was throwing at the two of you right now - he wished these zombies would walk for a little while. 

Making his own way through the barricade, the two of you started running up the stairs, keeping an eye on the floor numbers as you went. Floor nine was not ideal for this situation, because even though Sukuna was in good shape, you hadn’t spent as much time on cardio before the breakout as you should’ve done, and were subsequently winded by the time you reached floor five. 

As you clung to the bannister, in desperate need of a rest, Sukuna leaned over the edge of the stairwell, biting down on his lip at the sound of rattling as the creatures clambered over the barricade, snarling and snapping echoing as the group crashed into the building, speeding up the stairs at a pace that was entirely inhuman. 

“We gotta move.” 

He was pulling you by your arm, and you were shaking your head as you stumbled up the stairs behind him. “Just leave me, I can’t-” 

“Shut up. Just focus on breathing.” He hissed, pulling you along with him step by step all the way to the ninth floor, trying not to glance behind him as the sound of pounding feet grew louder and louder. 

Rejoicing as he reached the right floor, his relief was quickly replaced by panic when faced with a locked fire door, the entrance unbudging as he tried to shoulder barge it open. You were sobbing softly beside him, the undead just one floor below you now as they surged up the stairs. 

“Fuck!” He yelled as he kicked the door to no avail, banging on it desperately. “Let us in, shit-” He grabbed you as the zombies approached the last flight of stairs, pulling you behind him as he brought his bat to the ready. There were too many for him to take, but he wasn’t going down without a fight.

Just as the first zombie reached him, raising his bat to bring it down upon the creature's head, the door behind you swung open, the sound of a gun ringing out as a bullet lodged itself between the creature's eyes, sending it thudding to the ground. 

“Get in.” The two of you whirled around to see a man, almost standing as tall as Sukuna, with raven hair and a scar on his lip. In his hands was a pistol, which he was aiming at the next approaching undead with no hesitation, not even a tremor in his clearly experienced hands. 

Sukuna said nothing, grabbing your hand and tugging you past this man, into the safety of the corridor. “Over here!” You heard from the end of the hallway, where a small boy with messy black hair was waving you over to an open door. 

—

That brought you to where you were now: 28 days after the outbreak, sitting in the house of Toji Fushiguro and his children Megumi and Tsumiki. Introductions had been made not long after you’d run into their little apartment, with Toji commenting on how he’d been waiting weeks for someone else to show up - he’d almost figured they were the last ones alive in the country. 

The three of them had been holding out pretty successfully for the last month. With the fire doors and the gate in front of their apartment door, their flat was easy to fortify. Toji had also spent an amount of time in the military, meaning that he not only had access to a firearm, but he knew how to use it. 

He knew how to survive, and that had kept their little family going so far. 

Although, later that night he’d admitted that times were getting hard, that up until now they’d survived through picking off food from other apartments, and soon that supply would run dry. They’d have to move soon, and doing that with two kids was no easy task. 

For that reason he was relieved that the two of you had shown up, suggesting that perhaps you could travel in a group and make things easier for everyone. Sukuna hadn’t been thrilled by that idea, uncomfortable at the thought of putting your safety in anyone else's hands but his. 

Toji had told him to think on it all the same. Either way, the two of you were free to stay in his apartment for as long as you wanted. He’d moved the kids into one room, offering you his son’s room for the two of you to stay in - a great relief considering that you hadn’t slept in an actual bed for weeks. 

Sharing a bed shouldn’t have been a source of discomfort for the two of you. You’d spent many a night in that first week curled up in his bed, and during the evenings on the road you’d always been touching him, holding on tight to your one source of comfort. 

But somehow, in this new scenario, one where you felt safer, where a semblance of normality had slipped back into your lives for even just an evening, you suddenly felt a little embarrassed. 

Toji had been collecting rainwater up on the roof, and subsequently offered to let you both wash your clothes and yourselves. Which meant that right now your one change of clothes was drying, and you were wearing nothing but a large t-shirt that Toji had given you for the night. 

To say that you felt a little exposed before Sukuna like that was an understatement. Even if he’d seen the worst of you before this, there was a feeling of intimacy that came with this situation - you were almost naked, alone in a candle-lit room, sharing one bed, with your biggest threat not currently breathing down your necks. 

Sukuna didn’t seem phased, climbing into the bed without a second thought. He was wearing one of Toji’s pairs of sweats, his chest bare. His red eyes flickered over you as he examined your awkward stance by the door. 

“Afraid of me or something?” He asked.

It sounded like an attempt at a joke, but there was a hint of something in his tone that had you wondering if he meant it. You weren’t sure how you were ever meant to put into words how little you feared him, how much you revered him as your protector. But you didn’t want to sound pathetic, so you shook your head shyly and crawled into the bed beside him. 

He was quick to wrap an arm around your waist, pulling your body close against his, your face buried in his chest as his other hand moved to your hair, playing gently with the strands just as he always would. 

“Are you sure?” He murmured, breath hot against the top of your head.

“Of what?” You asked, glancing up at him with big eyes. 

“That you aren’t afraid of me?” 

“I’m afraid of what would happen if you weren’t with me.” 

He didn’t seem to expect that response, crimson eyes widening for a moment as he studied you, a tired grin making its way onto his face. You hadn’t seen him smile much since the outbreak, and the expression had your heart fluttering. 

“Me too.” He whispered

You didn’t push him away as his hands cupped your face, letting him pull you close to him, lips pressing uncertainly against yours, his actions measured and careful, as if you’d break if he was too rough. 

He certainly didn’t expect you to thread your fingers through his pink hair, tugging him closer as you deepened the kiss, heart pounding with excitement rather than fear for the first time in weeks. This was all you wanted, desperate to feel something, to feel him. You wanted to be distracted from everything for the moment, at least for tonight. 

Sukuna did a good job of that, making sure that the only thing on your mind was him. 

His fingers explored every part of your body, lips leaving no part of your skin untouched. He sunk into you like it was where he belonged, rewarding you with deep languid strokes as he kissed you like his life depended on it. 

It was passionate, more intimate than sex had ever been for you with anyone else. It was the last thing you’d been expecting from Sukuna, based on what you’d heard through the thin walls of your apartment before this all started, but you enjoyed it all the same.

This was what you needed, he was what you needed. 

You hadn’t realised that tears were falling until Sukuna’s hands were on your face, tenderly wiping them from your cheeks, before peppering your face with kisses, hips still moving slowly against yours. 

“I’ve got you. I won’t let anything happen to you.” He whispered, and your gut tightened at his kind words, the tenderness of your current situation overwhelming after how harrowing the previous weeks had been. 

“I- I’m making things worse for you, aren’t I?” You asked shyly.

“No. You’re the only thing keeping me sane.”

You couldn’t quite believe him, but who were you to deny his words when he was treating you like this? Letting you come undone on his cock so many times that the troubles of the world were completely drowned out. 

How could you call him a liar when he was clinging to you just as tightly as you were clinging to him? 

He was careful not to cum inside you when he finally reached his release, pulling out and finishing on your stomach instead. The last thing that either of you needed right now was to deal with pregnancy on top of everything else. But you wished that he could stay buried inside you, desperate to sleep with him filling you up. 

All you wanted was to be as close to him as humanly possible, all the time. 

But you’d have to settle for the next best thing, snuggling up in his arms after he’d wiped you clean with a rag, clinging to his body as you drifted off to sleep, your mind unburdened for the first time in weeks as your dreams were filled only with the thought of him, of how good he made you feel. 

For once you slept through the night without a single thought given to the apocalypse.

The next morning, the two of you awoke to find Toji out on the balcony. Megumi and Tsumiki were playing with some action figures on the floor, completely oblivious to the way that their father was so pointedly focussing on a radio that had played nothing but static for weeks before now.

“There’s an announcement.” Toji said gruffly as the two of you approached, holding out the radio for the two of you to listen in.  

“If anyone is hearing this, this is a message from the Armed Forces. We have a location acting as salvation from the infection, we have food, shelter, weapons. To anyone who seeks safety, come to the 42nd blockade just south of Manchester-” 

Static overtook the voice for a few moments, before the message started over again. “It's just playin’ over and over again so it must be prerecorded, but this is the first I’ve heard it.” Toji said, taking a drag of his cigarette as he stared out at the city before him. 

“Could be old.” Sukuna said, ever practical in his approach, unwilling to drag you halfway up the country on some false hope. A place with loads of people would be the worst place to be if they happened to get overrun by undead before you arrived - you could potentially be walking into a death trap. 

“Like I said, I haven’t heard it before.” Toji reminded him. “I think we’re gonna take the chance - I gotta get the kids out of the city. I know you guys want out too, this could be your chance.” 

Sukuna glanced over at you, conflict swirling in his crimson eyes as he ran a hand through his hair. Toji was right, this was an opportunity. As much as Sukuna’s plan had been to get to some farmland, as long as it was just the two of you it would be impossible to ever rest easy. One of you would always have to be on guard. If you were with the army, then you’d at least have some security. 

But there was a part of him who believed that it was too good to be true. 

“Haven’t heard from the army in weeks, and we’re supposed to believe that they’ve got some safe little outpost?” 

Toji shrugged. “It’s definitely a military message, phrased exactly how I’d expect one to be. Better than staying here until we either starve or get cornered by one of those undead bastards. It's up to you, but it wouldn’t be the worst thing if you stuck with us - easier to keep ‘em safe that way.” He said, jerking his head in the direction of the two kids who were now playfighting on the floor. 

“We should give it a try.” You said softly, hand resting on his bicep. “I’m getting really tired of running. 

He winced as he looked at you, unease swirling in his chest. But he wasn’t prone to saying no to you. If it was what you wanted he’d do it, but the first sign of danger and he was getting you out of there. In that case Toji and his kids were on their own. 

“Fine.”

—

The next morning, your little group piled into Toji’s car, with the intention of heading up north. He had almost a full tank, enough to get you very close to where you needed to go, if not the whole way - it just depended on how many diversions you needed to make along the way. Based on what you’d seen in central London, there was a chance that busier roads would be a no go, completely piled up with abandoned vehicles. 

But Toji seemed to know the route well, making diversions down less popular roads and doing his best to avoid any tunnels, knowing that undead would probably be swarming in the darkness. That wasn’t to say that progress wasn’t slow going - there were abandoned cars everywhere, corpses littering the floor where undead had been put down by the army in those first few days. 

But outside of that, it felt something like a normal road trip. Toji was blasting 90s rap, with him and Sukuna talking about their workout regime in the front of the car. Meanwhile you were sitting in the back, positioned in the middle seat because both kids wanted to look out the window. They were both talking at you non stop, with Tsumiki explaining the elaborate plotline that she’d concocted for her Polly Pocket dolls, while Megumi was telling you about what type of dog Toji was going to get him for Christmas. 

It was nice to hear the kids talk in such a normal way, as if there was no apocalypse. And you supposed that for them, it was all just some distant fear. Under Toji’s protection they might not have even seen a zombie before - they’d been thoroughly sheltered by his competence in this situation. 

He was so much like Sukuna, doing everything that he could to shoulder the weight and fear of this situation, so that the people he was protecting could feel safe. 

You weren’t going to tell Megumi that it was unlikely for him to have his dog by Christmas - he should be allowed to live in ignorant bliss for as long as was allowed. Who knew anyway? Maybe this would all be over by Christmas. 

It took the better part of the day to reach the blockade just outside Manchester, and as soon as you arrived it was clear that your hopes had been misplaced. 

The place was deserted, completely silent as you drove in past the checkpoint. Someone should’ve been here on the road to greet you, but instead the whole place was eerie, as if no one had stood on this part of the road for weeks. The only sign of life was the corpse of an undead, strewn on top of a roadsign, as though dropped from a helicopter. 

Toji’s knuckles were white as he stopped the car, green eyes scanning for anything to suggest that this wasn’t a total waste of time. Sukuna’s gaze met yours through the rear-view mirror, an expression which told you to keep your guard up. 

“Where are the soldiers?” Tsumiki asked from beside you. “You said they’d be here.” 

“They’re probably keeping a low profile, darlin’” He said to the girl, but his furrowed brow suggested that he didn’t quite believe his own statement. “Stay in the car.” 

He opened the door and stepped out, gesturing for Sukuna to come with him. You weren’t too keen on being left in here with the children, but being nestled in the middle seat meant that you couldn’t easily escape. 

“I’ll be right back.” Sukuna said, acknowledging the way that you were chewing on your lower lip. 

The two men were careful as they scoured what was left of the blockade. Metal sheets had been put up to create one point of entry, presumably to try to manage a crowd of undead. Outside of that there were several off-road vehicles, and one singular tank which had been abandoned. 

Nowhere in the blockade did they find any sign of life. 

This clearly wasn’t a place of salvation, it never had been. There weren’t even any lodgings in this place. Perhaps they’d misinterpreted the radio message, maybe the static at the end had been concealing further instructions that they weren’t privy to. 

Sukuna couldn’t say that he was surprised. He hadn’t been expecting much from this, had only gone along with it because it was what you wanted. Part of him was surprised that your group had even managed to make it up here so easily - considering how bad it had been escaping central London, he’d assumed that you wouldn’t have any luck travelling anywhere in a car. 

You’d already defied the odds, what more could he expect than disappointment? 

“FUCK.” Toji roared beside him, not taking the news quite as well as Sukuna was. Looking after another adult in this situation was one thing, but keeping two kids safe now that they’d left their home base? That was something else entirely. It was clear that all of his hopes had been pinned on this working out. 

“We’ll figure something-” 

Sukuna flinched a little as Toji kicked a roadsign hard as he swore again, staring up at the sky as if he could pick a fight with some god, like there was someone up there who was responsible for all of this. 

In his nice little bubble of that safe apartment, it seemed that Toji hadn’t accepted the facts in the way that the two of you had. He hadn’t been out here day after day, encountering one endless disappointment after another. He was just now reaching the conclusion of how utterly fucked everything was a few weeks later than you guys had. 

One moment Toji was cursing the sky, and the next he was flinching back as if he’d been struck, hand instantly coming up to his eye. Sukuna frowned, taking a step forward only for Toji to hold out a warning hand. 

“No, stay back.” He hissed. 

“You good, man?” Sukuna asked, eyes flitting up to the sign that Toji had kicked, gaze landing on the lifeless zombie lying sprawled across it. 

It was only then that he put two and two together.

Drops of blood were at Toji’s feet, a drop of blood was in his eye. 

Could it be transferred like that? Was this disease so easily transmittable? If that were the case then it was sheer luck that the two of you were still alive. Hell, the day that you’d met Toji you’d had blood all over your face after stabbing a zombie in the neck. If that had gotten into your mouth or eyes then…?

“I can feel it.” Toji mumbled. “The rage.” 

“Nah - you weren’t bit, you’re just freaking out…”

He trailed off at the sight of pulsing red veins starting to appear on Toji’s skin, bulging out from where his hand was covering his infected eye. Sukuna sucked in a breath, heart pounding against his ribcage. Was he going to have to put Toji down? His kids were in the car just around the corner for fuck’s sake.

“Listen. Look after them - Megumi and Tsumiki, I need you to get them somewhere safe, promise me.” The bulging veins were spreading more quickly now, the eye that he wasn’t covering turning bloodshot. 

“I promise.” 

Even if he wasn’t too keen on hauling two brats around, he knew that you’d never let him walk away from people in need. You were good to a fault, and he certainly wasn’t ever going to leave you behind. 

Toji took his gun from his holster and slid it across the floor to Sukuna. “Shoot me. Shoot me right now, before it happens. I won’t let this body hurt them.” 

Sukuna picked up the gun, hands trembling a little as he aimed it. He wasn't the type of man who hesitated, he’d spent this whole apocalypse acting without thinking too much about it. Outside of his avoidance in killing Satoru, he’d approached life with a heartlessness that was necessary for survival. 

But Toji was the only person that the two of you had found an ally in throughout this whole situation - he’d offered you safety when you had nowhere to go. The thought of killing him made Sukuna feel ill. 

Even so, he held the gun up all the same, steadying his breathing as he pulled the trigger. 

He thought that the bullet would fly straight through the man’s head, that it would put him down in an instant. It turned out that shooting a gun wasn’t like the movies, you couldn’t fire a pistol for the first time and expect to hit your target. 

His bullet grazed Toji’s ear, and in that instant it was too late. The transformation had already happened. Sukuna dropped the gun, gripping his bat with two hands and figuring that he needed to do things the old fashioned way. But for the second time that week, someone else beat him to it, a bullet sinking into the side of Toji’s head, the shot coming from the bushes. 

The army had arrived two minutes too late. 

If they’d been here just 120 seconds earlier Toji would still be alive. Megumi and Tsumiki would still have a father. But here they were, a whole group of ten men, arriving at the scene after a tragedy had already occurred. 

Fucking useless.

They’d asked Sukuna questions that he could barely comprehend, ears ringing, body on autopilot as they retrieved you and the kids from your car, walking you over to the army truck that they’d pulled up in just down the road. Those fools had walked the kids right past Toji’s body, barking at them to calm down when Megumi started screaming. 

You’d been there to comfort them, letting Tsumiki cling to you as the military ordered you into the truck. All you could do was put on a brave face, tell them that they were safe, that it was thanks to Toji that you were all going to be okay now. But as Sukuna climbed into the truck with you, the silence filled by two young soldiers joking about something or other, he could see the despair in your eyes. 

Even if you were safe now, even if this was salvation, was it all worth it? 

The drive was a mere five minutes, heading off the motorway and over to a grand estate. Probably some old National Trust place that the military had set up in for the time being. They had quite the operation going, with massive barricades and floodlights, men with guns lining the perimeter. 

If anything moved within 200 metres of that place they’d know, and they’d be capable of blasting it to high heaven. 

Upon arriving, a high-ranking officer came to greet you, his seniority denoted by his fancy uniform and medals, and the way that the young soldiers instantly seemed to be on their best behaviour. He had long blue hair, with eyes that didn’t seem to match. His face was covered in scars, no doubt the result of a lengthy army service. 

He’d greeted you all with kindness, with relief, expressing the fact that he wasn’t sure anyone had received his message, since you were the first group to show up at the blockade. Sukuna didn’t trust him, but you seemed exhausted, and the kids couldn’t survive a night on the road. The wailing had stopped, but the tears hadn’t, and they were clinging to you like a lifeline. 

The General, who had introduced himself as Mahito, had given the four of you some time to freshen up, providing you with a couple of nice roomy chambers before suggesting that Sukuna come on a stroll with him around the property, eager to let him have the lay of the land, since he’d have to help the soldiers with their duties once you’d all settled in. 

Once again, he hated leaving you behind, uncomfortable in this situation, terrified that if you were out of his line of sight for more than five seconds that something awful would happen and he’d never get to see you again. 

After all, that was the experience that Toji’s kids were currently undergoing. 

But you urged him out anyway, reminding him that these guys were the military, you literally hadn’t been safer in weeks. Even so, he’d taken a moment with you before leaving, pressing his lips against yours in a desperate kiss. Toji’s death had shaken him, had made it abundantly clear how fragile life was in this new world. 

He needed to show you how he felt at every moment he could spare, knowing that any kiss could be your last. 

If you weren’t so busy running for your lives, maybe he would’ve kissed you sooner than that night at Toji’s house. He’d wanted to for a while - even before the apocalypse came along he’d admired you from afar. How stupid it seemed now that he didn’t act on his feelings back then, that he’d left it so late to give into his desire for you. 

Just when either of you could die at any moment. 

What a waste. 

You’d looked up at him with wide eyes as he pulled away, fingers playing anxiously with the fabric of his hoodie, cheeks flushed at the contact. He didn’t want to be here in this miserable place, he wanted to be in your apartment, showing you just how much you meant to him in the only way he knew how. 

But that wasn’t his reality. So he went on that damn walk with General Mahito, which had him wishing more than anything that he’d put his foot down and said no when you’d suggested that you all go along with Toji’s plan of driving up to that fucking blockade. 

He’d known the kind of man that Mahito was about five minutes into the walk, when he introduced Sukuna to the zombie that they had chained up outside. He was a young soldier, not unlike the ones that had driven you here in the first place. He was snapping his teeth, pulled back by a chain around his neck. 

Mahito had laughed, saying that they found it a fun experiment, to torment the thing, to try and figure out the way that the creatures ticked. Perhaps Sukuna would’ve respected the man’s dedication to knowing his enemy if it weren’t for the sadistic gleam in his eyes, the clear joy that he was taking in this zombie’s suffering. 

And if this zombie was a stranger that would be one thing, but this boy was a prior member of Mahito’s squadron, a person who he knew. Sukuna couldn’t imagine inflicting this fate upon Satoru or Toji - the humane thing was to put them out of their misery, any other fate was just cruel. 

If Sukuna had been smarter than he was, he would’ve called it at that - collected you and the kids and told the General that the four of you didn’t belong here. But that felt cruel considering the emotional state of the children right now, and taking a page from your book, he figured that he should try and see the best in people - captive zombie situation aside. 

Obviously that backfired on him when Mahito took him back to a fancy office at the end of the walk and engaged in a conversation that had Sukuna’s stomach turning. 

“The ones you’ve come here with, are they your wife and kids?” He asked plainly. 

“She’s my girlfriend.” He responded. It wasn’t like you’d had the chance to put a label on things, but that was how he saw it. “The kids aren’t ours, they belong to a buddy of mine, the one your men shot.” 

Mahito nodded, staring at Sukuna for a few moments, seemingly studying his expression as he considered his next words. “You see, Sukuna, morale here has been…low.” 

He scoffed. “Oh? I thought this place was salvation?” 

“You’re a practical man, so I’ll be honest with you, because I believe we might be birds of a feather.” 

Sukuna felt a slimy feeling crawl up his throat at those words, uncomfortable at the thought of being considered similar to this unsettling man. Sure, he was practical, but he wasn’t a complete creep, which were the vibes that Mahito was throwing out. 

“Men need…women to keep themselves going. We’ve got lots of lads out here wondering what the point is, why they should keep going. Having a woman might give them the motivation they need. I’m sure you understand, you’re probably plenty motivated yourself.” 

His blood ran cold as he looked at Mahito, taking a deep breath as he tried to contain his rage. “What are you suggesting?” 

“We all have to share in this new world to survive. Don’t you think it's unfair for you to have one woman all to yourself?” 

“Fuck you.” Sukuna hissed, rising swiftly to his feet. 

Coming here had been a mistake, he needed to get out of here, needed to get you out of here. In his blind panic, he barely had time to register the movement behind him, the crashing of a glass bottle over his head before everything went black. 

—

A couple of hours had passed since Sukuna had left, and you’d only just managed to calm both children down. 

Megumi had fallen asleep on the bed, while Tsumiki was still glued to your side, clinging on tightly to your arm. You’d plucked some boring history book that had been collecting dust on the shelf to pass the time, reading it out loud to the girl at your side in the hopes that she could focus on anything but the loss of her father. 

You doubted that detail around Henry VIII and the rise of the Church of England was doing much to take her mind off things, but you were pretty limited on options in the current state of things. 

When the door finally swung open, you’d been expecting Sukuna to walk in, a little caught off guard when it was the General. An unsettling smile was sitting on his face, but you were never the type to judge a book by its cover, so you pushed your uncertain feelings aside. 

“Would you like to join us for dinner?” He asked. 

You glanced between the two children. You were reluctant to wake Megumi, and it was clear that Tsumiki didn’t have the strength to fight her way through a social event right now. It was probably better that you all stay in here for the night. That was the explanation that you provided Mahito, but he shook his head in disregard. 

“Nonsense. The children are safe in here, I’ll assign a guard outside and they can get some sleep. But I insist that you join us.” 

“What about Sukuna?” You asked. “Is he at dinner already?” 

“Yes. I just brought him there. He’s waiting for you.” 

You shot another glance at Tsumiki, who barely seemed like she was listening, before nodding at the general. You stood up and gently guided the girl over to the bed, letting her curl up on top of the sheets as you softly soothed her hair. 

“I’ll be back in an hour or so. Keep an eye on your brother.” 

It wasn’t a long trek to the dining hall, which was probably the fanciest room you’d ever seen in your life, and definitely not the kind of place that you ever expected to be eating. A massive dining table was lined with plates and food, with around twenty soldiers already feasting on canned beans and spam when you took your seat. 

It wasn’t the type of meal that this hall was likely invented to see, the food a muddled mess of various rations, but you weren’t going to complain. You and Sukuna hadn’t eaten well in weeks - this was the largest amount of food that you’d seen in a while. 

What you didn’t see as you scanned the hall, was any sign of your Partner - his pink hair woefully absent from the room. But nobody seemed to be paying any real attention to you to allow you to ask where he was, too preoccupied with their joking, making sure to leave you out, acknowledging you only in the form of lecherous glances thrown your way, which had you feeling entirely exposed without Sukuna there to ward them off. 

“Men.” Mahito stood up as everyone finished their dishes, tapping on a wine glass as he addressed the room with a grin. “Today is a momentous day for us, as we welcome a new guest to our house.”

He gestured towards you, your skin prickling as all gazes in the room were turned to you, the atmosphere heavy as the men seemed to wait on what Mahito had to say next. 

“We’ll figure out a rota or something, but for now rejoice, we finally have a woman here, that’s something to live for, isn’t it?” 

A rota? What the fuck was he talking about? 

“Since I'm the highest ranked here, I’ll be going first. Captain Jogo can have her tomorrow, and then we’ll sort everyone else out. Maybe in a few days or weeks someone else will answer the message and we’ll have more women, but for now she’ll have to do.” 

“What- what are you saying?” You asked, finding the courage to speak, the chair beneath you screeching as you stood up. 

“Oh, come on, you know a woman’s purpose. Both you and your boyfriend are such foolish idealists.”

“Where’s Sukuna?” You asked, voice shaking as Mahito’s face twisted into an unsettling grin. 

“He’s all tied up right now, but don’t worry about him, your night’s just getting started.”

—

Sukuna awoke in the cold, his head pounding as he sat up. There was dried blood in his hair from the wound that he’d suffered on the back of his head. But he couldn’t care less about that right now, all he cared about was you. 

His arms were bound behind his back, and he found himself trying his best to make sense of his surroundings in the twilight that was slowly settling in. He was outside in a courtyard, the cold breeze flowing freely through his hoodie. 

Had they dumped him somewhere outside the compound? He jumped slightly at the sound of growling not too far from him, his eyes not yet adjusted enough to the dim light to understand what he was seeing. But as his vision slowly returned, he started to comprehend his situation. 

Mahito had left him in the courtyard with that undead soldier. 

The zombie hadn’t seemed to have noticed him yet, his sluggish nature throughout the day only now wearing off with the sunset. But Sukuna knew that he was well within the range of that thing’s chain, that he needed to get out of here before the zombie became aware of the snack that had been tossed into its enclosure. 

Glass was on the floor near him, and he shuffled forward as best as he could to grab it with his bound hands, positioning it between the two of them and trying to saw through the rope. It was slow going, strings fraying painfully slow, the edge of the glass biting into his skin with each movement, drawing blood from his palms. 

And that had the creature noticing, sniffing the air, its inhuman eyes searching the courtyard before landing on Sukuna. He cursed under his breath, brow furrowing as he continued with the task at hand. No point hurrying, no point looking at the creature. He just needed to keep going. 

Staying calm was the only way he’d succeed.

The undead took one step, then another, staggering over to him. He wasn’t fast like others Sukuna had encountered. He was sluggish, like his captivity had fucked with his ability to take normal actions. And Sukuna took every second that he could, sawing through one more thread with each step, the bindings popping open just as the undead was about to reach him. 

With his hands free, Sukuna was quick to swipe the glass through the bindings on his ankles, leaping to his feet and running back out of the zombie’s range, heart pounding as he stared into the creature's eyes, its gaze consumed by hatred. 

And in that moment he had an idea. 

Sukuna was weaponless, and despite his own physical strength he was just one man. If he walked back into that place with the intent of busting you out he’d likely come face to face with death. What he needed was chaos, a distraction that would allow him to grab you and make a run for it. 

What was a bigger distraction than a zombie on the loose? 

—

You were dragged into a fancy room by two soldiers, Mahito walking leisurely behind you as they dumped you down onto the bed, giving him a nod as they left, locking the door behind them. 

It took less than a second for you to spring to your feet, trying to move past the General only for him to grab you firmly around the waist, one hand coming up to your hair, giving the strands a harsh tug, eliciting a cry from your lips. 

“Lets take a deep breath, yeah? No point in getting all worked up. It's not going to change things.” 

Your breathing was coming out shallow and panicked as you raised your fist to take a swing at him, mocking laughter filling the room as he deftly dodged your hand. You wanted to cry, wanted to collapse on the floor and scream. How could this be happening right now? What the fuck had they done to Sukuna?

“Please let me go.” You whispered. 

“It’s nothing personal, baby. Just let it happen.” He tossed you onto the bed, pressing you down against the sheets, lips pressing against yours in a disgusting kiss that had you attempting to wriggle out of his grip. 

His hands started to slide up your shirt, and you were sobbing softly, eyes firmly closed as he kept you pinned beneath him, allowing you no chance of escape.

You didn’t want this, this couldn’t be happening. 

One moment he was on you, hands on your skin, and the next moment hot liquid was spilling over your shirt, the weight of his body suddenly heavier than it had been before, his whole form limp on top of yours. Eyes opening cautiously, you sucked in a breath at the sight of Sukuna, his bat covered in blood as he towered over you. 

He pushed Mahito off you, letting the General’s body fall to the floor as he helped you to your feet, pressing his lips against yours in a desperate kiss, his hands on your waist, pulling you as close as possible, needing to feel you, to prove that you were real. 

“I’ve got you.” He mumbled as he pulled back for a frantic second before smashing his lips into yours once more, the blood on his hands marking your shirt. You couldn’t care less, completely caught up in the feeling of him, the relief of him being your saviour again. 

The kiss was only broken at the sound of screaming down the hall, and Sukuna promptly pulled you into a closet, holding you close against his chest as you peered out through the slats, holding your breath at the sight of the zombie careening into the room, head tilting strangely before dropping to the floor and feasting on the General’s body. 

You weren’t sure how the creature made it into the compound, but you weren’t prepared to think about it too hard. This place was filled with monsters with or without the undead. At the sound of shouts down the hall, the zombie rose from his meal, sprinting off in the direction of the sound, and giving you and Sukuna an instant to make your escape. 

Instinctively, Sukuna pulled you towards the exit, only for you to shake your head desperately at his attempt to leave this place as soon as possible. “The kids.” 

“They’re probably already-” 

“Sukuna.” You hissed, brow furrowed with displeasure. “I’m not leaving them.” 

The whole compound was in total chaos as the two of you sprinted to the room that you’d been given. The soldiers that were still living paid no attention to you, too preoccupied with warding off their former comrades. And for the most part, you weren’t bothered by the newly turned undead, who seemed much more interested in those whom they’d previously known. 

Did zombies still have memories? Did it impact who they would target? An interesting question that you certainly weren’t going to consider right now. 

The two of you froze as you barrelled into the room you were looking for. A zombie was feasting on the corpse of one of the soldiers left to stand guard, while the two kids sat pressed against the headboard, Tsumiki’s arm wrapped tightly around Megumi, covering his eyes as they both remained completely still. 

As if the zombie wouldn’t see them if they remained frozen. 

And to be fair to them, that hypothesis seemed to be working, because right now they were still alive, and the attention of the undead creature had now shifted to you and Sukuna. You flinched back at the proximity, but your partner didn’t hesitate, bashing the bat into the side of its head and sending it straight to hell. 

Your arms wrapped around the two kids, pulling them with you out of the room and out through the complex. Sukuna led the way, making sure that you were close behind him as he swung his bat into more undead, ignoring the cries from help coming from the remaining soldiers. 

He had no love for them. Better that they all rot for what they would’ve done to you. 

Barrelling out into the night, the four of you piled into a truck, Sukuna putting his foot down on the gas and heading out into the night. There was no place for you to go, no safe apartment for you to hide out in, but anywhere was better than there. 

—

You’d come out of that night at the compound with more than a few mental scars. Between the loss of your friend, the sexual assault, and witnessing a whole group of people be massacred by undead, it was a difficult thing for you to overcome. 

That had been a low point of the apocalypse so far, potentially the bleakest moment of your entire existence. It still haunted your dreams regularly, the thought of Mahito’s lips against yours making your stomach turn. 

That place was hell. You were sure of that. 

And yet here you were, 28 days after that harrowing experience, two months after the outbreak, curled up against Sukuna’s side in some nice little cottage in The Lakes, with no undead for miles. The bed was soft, the room kept warm by the hearth which was slowly dying down for the evening. His hands were in your hair, playing with the strands, soothing you just as he had at the start of all this. 

Boards were still lining the windows and doors, just in case, but you hadn’t seen any undead in weeks. You had alarms set around the perimeter - if they came within 200 metres of the house you’d know, you’d be ready. 

Megumi and Tsumiki were asleep in their room down the hall. 

Tsumiki frequently awoke with nightmares, finding her way into your room and curling up on your bed, too afraid to be left alone. Megumi seemed to be too proud for that, but you could see from the shadows beneath his eyes that he had an equally hard time getting to sleep. And who could blame them? What they’d seen would haunt an adult, it was unthinkable to bear so much emotional trauma and grief as a child. 

But tonight at least, they seemed content, unplagued my memories of all that had been lost to them. 

For now, for the first time since the outbreak, you could say that you’d found relative peace. The crops in the fields were thriving, the cows and sheep left untouched by undead, and for the first time in the last two months you’d started to hear planes in the sky again. 

If there were planes then there was hope. People were alive on the continent and one day life would return to normalcy. You knew it. 

All you hoped was that no matter what came your way, you could stay at Sukuna’s side, clinging to him just like you were now, with his hands in your hair and his lips against your skin. He’d moved heaven and earth to get you to where you were, and whatever happened next you weren’t ever letting go. 

They’d have to pry him from your cold dead hands. 

a/n: hope you all enjoyed!! in this world the sequels didn't happen and they lived happily ever after <3

if anyone has seen 28 years later I'd love to hear your opinions because I have really mixed feelings about that movie as someone who loved the original

also, reminder that I have a perma taglist for my sukuna fics - you can join by commenting on this post or sending me an ask!

sukuna perma taglist (open!): @lav4mpira @seellove @cutesytwt @gojodickbig @yuujispinkhair @somos-things @poopooindamouf @yeagersss @paradisestarfishh @jennilynn63 @tthhaattgguuyy27 @bexxli @being-blue-is-better @summerthesim @tisuruxx @juliarchiv3s @dishs0pe @plutoxxxworld @5kkalara @serenadesvt @00frenchfries00 @warriorofenlightenment @scarlet-issilly @himbosexual @pousivuitton @ksjtozaki @certainfanpoetry @gojoscumslut @ynishalee @nakiich @chaos-4baby @t4ters @sukubusss @pandabiene5115 @solarlovesxyz @fysalia @goofiebags5678 @yarimarjane @aayeonas @christinezz33 @dreeaambiigstuuff-blog @trafalgarlaw-wife @raspberryvv @i0lovepink00 @sunqi053 @makeaflowerbloom @iaminsanelmfao @sophiethelesbian @irlbrainfart

What is your writing schedule?

derp: not a very exciting answer but, there isn’t one! i wish i had more free time for my hobbies, but my lifestyle with school and work leaves me quite drained so it leaves me with little time to even think about my works. however, back when i first started writing on tumblr, i could write 5k words a day nearly every afternoon like it was nothingggg. miss it! hopefully when i graduate next year, i’m able to take a thorough break from the school mindset and begin writing more frequently.

What kind of research do you usually do for your fics?

User: it really depends on what i’m writing as i usually don’t need to do research. for my heian era works, i do have to pull up articles to understand the social classes, the setting, commonly practiced religions and lifestyles, the fashion, etc. pretty soon, i do want to attempt a true medieval piece and i think it’ll be fun researching the language and practices for that. i’ve tried my hand at it before but it wasn’t satisfactory for my own expectations. i indulge in a lot of medieval fics and it might be my favorite setting for a fantastical romance.

Do you draw inspiration from other authors, be it on Tumblr or traditional publishing authors?

User: all the time! there are plenty of wonderful jjk writers that i frequently feel inspired and motivated by to open up my documents and jot things down. the jjk writing community, both on ao3 and tumblr, is so full of gifted writers that i almost never fail to learn something new to master my writing skill when i’m reading a work. ahem @/starmapz @/molesbysecond @/indiewritesxoxo @/macbethinchains @/satoruined @/swearimnevergivingup @/kamiflix @/kaevia @/em1lysm @/molesbysecond (thank you for inspiring me oh so much!)

Which tabs are mostly open while writing?

derp: there are 3! number one, ellipsus. i traded google docs for this writing software due to their stance on the use of generative ai in creative spaces, the free accessibility, and the great features—one of which is their SUPER pretty themes i can shuffle through to keep my eyes from hurting. highly recommend and praying they create a mobile app! next, onelook thesaurus. to enhance my vocabulary, it aides to strengthen meaning and add even more depth to my stories. i’ve learned hundreds of words from this website heh. last but not least, mynoise.net. they’ve got some super cool adjustable ambience and soundscapes that you can customize. my mind tends to run from me, and these can help settle it a bit.

How do you deal with writer's block or in any case, writing insecurity?

derp: i take a break when i start getting overly self-conscious of my works (which is surprisingly often). usually, my writing quality decreases significantly when i get too in my head, so i allow the pen to settle and pick it back up when i’m feeling it. it also relieves a lot of stress off of my shoulders and permits me to write on my own time, of my own accord, without any outside stressors. when i do want to write, but feeling stumped, i’ll go back and reread a few chapters of my favorite fics or sort through my tbr for something fresh to get my brain back into the writing mode again.

How much does engagement affect your creative process?

derp: hmmm somewhat? as much as it does to validate the fact that my writing may be more than satisfactory, i did start off writing just to please myself before deciding to share it. notes or tumblr do not make me “write more” but i do think that asks and comments about someone enjoying my work does motivate me to produce more quality work. i like people it when people reach out and tell me all of the things my writing made them feel :)

What are your favorite genres to write besides romance?

derp: angsttttt !!!! writing about a gut-wrenching and heart-cinching problem that the mc must solve is so exciting for me. as i’ve been informed by my readers, i tend to write bittersweet or even unhappy endings far more frequently than i do happy endings.

What is your favorite work until now?

derp: the king’s wife :) it was a bit of an experimental work as the first good chunk doesn’t focus on sukuna x reader, rather reader solving her problems on her own in a world existing around sukuna. responses on the work have been enough to inspire me to make more of my works like that, and it’s so easy for me to pour my love into works that make me feel the most things. i also do feel like i characterized him the best in this story than i have any other story. it is my magnum opus…

What trope is your favorite?

derp: grumpy x sassy (yes, i will bring up sukuna). heian era sukuna, as annoying and rude and arrogant as he is, is no match for his snarky wife. the banter, the berating, the threats—I HAVE SO MUCH FUN WRITING IT! i think it’s easy to work with this trope as well to make it domestic and fluff, or angsty and tragic, and, of course, comedic!

Is there a genre/trope you'd like to see be explored more in the fandom?

derp: even though i feel like i’ve written so much of it personally, it’s heian era. I WILL NEVER BE SICK OF HEIAN ERA!!! even if there’s already hundreds of fics, i will always want more. i feel like there is so much more to dissect about this time and sukuna’s dynamic as well. plus, reader is very customizable during this time. she can be reserved, or louder than sukuna. a servant, or a sorcerer that’s a formidable match for him. the possibilities are truly endless…

What would you like to write more in the future? sfw/nsfw/angst/fluff?

derp: i think i want to take a step back from writing smut and focus on angst-driven and problem-solution plots. a problem i had when i started writing was not wanting to write smut at all, but i found myself writing it a ton when i joined tumblr because i assumed this was the fandom culture. now, i want to write what pleases me which is problem-solution based stories with a love story plot.

Do you outline your stories or not? If you do, how is said process?

derp: i can say with the utmost confidence that i have never outlined a single work in my entire life and managed to complete it. i just start writing and whatever comes out of my brain is usually what sticks to paper. it’s my worst trait as a writer, as i’ve been told. which is also why i have the least confidence in the series’ i write because hey… where are we going? ( i don’t know either but let’s enjoy the ride).

What has been the hardest fic you've written?

derp: hmmm i wouldn’t say any of my works were necessarily hard to write, but the amount of work that goes into some can be grueling! way out there (an archived series of mine) had me researching x-men comics and rewatching the films to include tidbits for readers to pick up on a plot twist. though i see plenty of things i could’ve changed, it was a fic that i hold so dear to me because of how much work i put into it. i also spent nights crying over how much i loved lumberjack!sukuna and city!girl reader but that’s between you and me, friend.

How do you improve your writing?

derp: reading! so many of my mutuals are such adept writers that i learn new things from them all of the time. i also do try to research random things in my life and learn as many words as i can by playing things like the NYT daily games, as much as my schedule allows hehe.

Do you set yourself personal deadlines?

derp: never, i write on my own time out of a fear of turning a hobby into a job. plus, i never stick to them anyway because i am a #certifiedchud.

How often do you read your old works?

derp: not often. if it’s posted on a platform, i’ll reread it if i want to check for grammar mistakes or i’ll sift through old drafts for miscellaneous scene dumps and inspiration. otherwise, i am a chronic avoidant personality. i do not want to revisit it out of fear of finding an insane typo. ignorance is bliss.

What do you think makes a good story?

derp: you can really tell when someone loves their craft with everything in them, it literally bleeds through the words and those end up as my favorites. i’ll read literally anything that someone is proud of. passion is key!

Which is your favorite character and why? (can be outside the jjk story or even outside anime)

derp: sukuna has been at the forefront of my mind for well-over a year now :) i’m not sure what it is that draws me in, whether it’s the gruff and blunt personality or the super hot bod, but he’s all i seem to write for these days. i do owe my life to so many writers out there who’ve introduced me to him in certain lights and au’s that inspired me to write for him. characterizing him also comes surprisingly easy to me, like his sharp tongue and sadistic rituals.

Do you write with music? If so, which songs get you pumped? or do you listen to ambience music or work in silence/outside noise type?

derp: i almost always write with both! i write on my computer for the most part, so i’m able to pull up both the spotify app/soundcloud and mynoise.net to listen to ambience. some songs i listen to are medieval/chinese orchestra for instrumentals, chase atlantic/arctic monkeys/the neighborhood for freaky time smut, and a ton of other random artists for fluff and angst such as hozier, wisp, marina and the diamonds, deftones, sleeping with sirens, ethel cain, bad suns, the 1975, etc.

What is the inspiration behind your theme?

derp: i love this question as someone who changes it frequently … ^^ currently, i’ve been listening to a ton of bladee, yung lean, thaiboy digital, ecco2k (basically all of draingang + sadboys) and their aesthetic has taken OVER my pinterest! just some muted pastels and unicorns and aliens and weeds yup.

Does your culture play a huge part on how you write, and if so, why? 

derp: as i tend to write for a mostly blank female reader, i’d say no! i’ve read fics about self-inserts that have characteristics that apply to me, but i’ve yet to write it. it is definitely something i want to try in the future.

What are your honest feelings or opinions on the rise of ai in writing spaces?

derp: i am 100% against it, which i respond to in the next prompt in depth :>

Do you believe it to be unethical to use ai in any step of the writing process? And if so, why?

derp: yes. my top concerns are rooted in authorship, consent, authenticity, and environmental impact. generative ai has been thoroughly trained on different qualities of human-created content, without the explicit permission of the original creators. there is no way to find the true origin of a work through an ai generated response, which is removing credit and consent from writers themselves. rather than producing original work, it throws together existing patterns, ideas, and stylistic elements derived from countless writers and artists in multiple corners of the internet. specifically in creative spaces such as writing fandoms, going forward there are always going to be ethical concerns simply because of how controversial it is. in my eyes, writing should not be valued by merely for the final product, but instead for the human intention. for the human experience and perspective, for the blood, sweat, and tears shed throughout the process. ai-generated text can imitate these qualities, but it will never be us. it can’t replicate the lived experience or creative agency that gives art its meaning. and what’s driving this extra paranoia is due to widespread AI use, it’s undermining trust between readers and writers while simultaneously diluting the value of human craftsmanship. it’s ruining the ecosystem and ruining our livelihood.

IF you are struggling with any step in the writing process, there are so many alternatives before resorting to ai. pick up a book or sort through ao3 tags if you need a prompt. want a setting? there’s a ton of ai-free generator sites and masterposts to find. still at a loss? writing communities and talking to writing friends to work through an obstacle has helped me dozens of times! turn to humans before bots, i promise we are a lot more helpful :)

What is something you had wished people told you while beginning to write?

derp: your first draft of anything you write won’t be perfect or ANYWHERE near that. but stll, just get something down. just keep writing and writing and writing. that is what was the hardest for the perfectionist in me to understand when i was new to writing. it is 100% easier, and more tangible during edits, to write bare bones first before going back to reread it. it keeps the plot consistent as well as cohesive.

Do you have a second favorite besides Sukuna? If so, why and would you write more about said character?

derp: GETO SUGURUUUU he has my heart and he's really my favorite jjk character when it comes to the manga/anime itself. he's someone i can relate to when it comes to struggles with mental health, and his battle with depression during the hidden inventory arc stuck with me. it was also difficult to watch his fall from grace into becoming the worst curse user oh man my heart broke. for some reason, i cannot write for him all that well, however he is my absolute favorite to read for after sukuna LOL! i do want to write for him as much as i can but tbh inspiration rarely strikes.

What do you think of modern day Sukuna characterization? Do you love it, do you hate it, are you in between?

derp: i used to be a modern au sukuna truther for the longest time, but after discovering heian era works, MY MIND WAS CHANGED PERMANENTLY. it's more of an in-between-i will read for him and i enjoy it, but not so much with writing unfortunately. every once in a while will i write for him heh. i don't really enjoy frat au's despite their popularity, i'm a canon lover at heart.

So you tell us you write more on sad and bittersweet endings. Are you ever going to give reader a happy ending in future writings? Surprise your readers with this plot twist? Is that something that has ever crossed your mind?

derp: i really do try … but i am a masochist /j /lh. maybe it's my cynical and pessimistic view on life, but sometimes writing a tragic ending feels more realistic than a happy ending. when it comes to writing series', i at least try to wrap it up positively for the sake of everyone's mental health LOL also i have written a plot twist before and i will say it was a controversial twist that i loved so much.

In your response to generative ai and its unethical uses, in the end paragraph you give great tips, though we see writing communities as one tip to use/venture in, do you know/have participated in any writing communities? And if so which do you recommend people get into?

derp: thank you! i sort of have participated in writing communities with my side-blog for writing help and prompts where i also interact with tumblr communities. very often is it helpful for me to scroll through these when i’m having writers block or want to practice writing a drabble of sorts. i highly recommend it, too! if there are any other tips people have, i’d love to know as a girl always struggling with writers block LOL

What advice would you give new writers or people who are just starting?

User: never stop writing for yourself! never stop loving your characters and favorite tropes and favorite genre’s. we love coming back to what drew us to it in the first place.