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@heavenlysnail
꒰ Welcome
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Snail | 30+ | MDNI | Jujitsu Kaisen
Dividers by @/Pixopix
ï๑ Hello and welcome to my heavenly shell. Here, you will find thoughts, fics, and arts about Jujutsu Kaisen ï๑
This shell is for grown snails only. Minors, avert your six eyes. 🔞
| Hanami | Mahito | Choso | Sukuna | Nanami | Naoya | Gojo | Geto | Toji |
This blog is predominantly reader centric: f, m, gn, afab, amab.
One Piece Blog | Monster Original Blog
You can find my OC Tate Greenhill here.
sweet surprise │ mahito x f!reader │ wc: 6.6k │ sfw no major tags, just some fluff!!
this is my part of @cactusvolumes underrated secret collab for @heavenlysnail !! ♥
It was almost midnight when you and Mahito decided to go to the convenience store.
The store near your apartment was almost empty at this hour, the way it always was with its harsh fluorescent light buzzing overhead, washing everything in a pale, slightly artificial glow that made the colors of the packaging of each item look wrong. The fridges hummed. Somewhere outside, the subway rumbled through the ground beneath your feet, and a car passed on wet pavement.
It was the kind of quiet that only existed at this hour, when the city wasn’t asleep as much as it was paused.
You crouched in front of the refrigerated dessert section for far longer than any normal person probably should have, one hand resting against your knee, the other tucked into your sleeve against the cold drifting up from the open shelves below. Pudding cups. Parfaits. Slices of crepe cake stacked in plastic clamshells. Strawberry shortcakes wrapped in their cheerful packaging, mascot grinning at you from each one.
You had always loved sweets, considering them one of the few joys in life.
Mahito lingered nearby with all the restless energy of a stray cat pretending not to follow someone home though the two of you both knew well enough that he was always on your heels.
He wandered aimlessly down the aisle at first, picking random products off shelves only to put them back a second later, but you could still feel his attention lingering on you no matter how disinterested he tried to appear.
Eventually he crouched beside you, elbows resting loosely against his knees as he peered through the glass.
“You’ve been staring at these for almost six minutes now,” he said lazily, looking at you, at your focused expression as you debated between strawberry shortcake or a chocolate eclair.
You glanced sideways at him, your eyebrow cocked. “Were you timing me?”
“I was getting bored,” he groaned, crossing his arms and resting them on his knees, pouting at you like a child who wasn’t getting his way.
“You say that like it’s my responsibility to entertain you,” you said, rolling your eyes, turning your head to look at him properly.
Mahito grinned at that immediately; quick and sharp and altogether too pleased with himself.
“Isn’t it?” he replied, bumping his shoulder against yours. “Isn’t that the point in having a girlfriend?”
You rolled your eyes and reached past the front row, fingers brushing past the closer cups for the one specific one tucked in the back. It was a strawberry shortcake parfait, layered layered with whipped cream and sponge cake, half-hidden behind a wall of identical containers. “This one’s good, I used to eat it when I was a kid.”
Mahito tilted his head slightly, studying the label with visible suspicion, his mismatched eyes scanning the large yellow smiley face with a top hat printed across the packaging..
“The mascot is smiling,” he said, pointing, an almost disgusted look on his face.
“…Okay?” you responded, shooting him a look.
“Why do humans insist on putting faces on food packaging?” he asked, pouting again.
“It’s cute.” You said, smiling slightly, looking back down at the smiling mascot.
“It’s unsettling.” Mahito said, his voice flat
“You literally reshape people into monsters.” you huffed, narrowing your eyes at him.
“That’s different.” he whined, rolling his head back. “That mascot is creepier.”
You snorted before you could help it.
Sometimes Mahito said horrifying things with the same tone someone else might use to comment on the weather.You still weren’t sure whether that made him easier or harder to be around, but you had somehow grown to love the man so you didn’t mind it.
You grabbed a second dessert from the shelf - that chocolate eclair you had been eyeing - before standing again
“Come on,” you said. “I’m not standing here debating pudding ethics with you all night, I want to keep watching that show.”
Mahito followed behind you toward the register, hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie while he looked around the convenience store with open curiosity, his gaze drifting from shelves of instant noodles to brightly colored candy displays with the same quiet fascination he always seemed to carry whenever he was observing human behavior.
Not understanding it, studying it.
The cashier barely glanced up when you approached the counter, as you paid with a quick swipe of your card.
Soon enough you were standing back outside in the warm summer night.
Rain threatened overhead, the air heavy with humidity, neon signs bleeding faintly across damp pavement.The bag rustled against Mahito’s hip as he fell into step beside you.
Mahito took the plastic convenience store bag from your hand before you could protest, a soft giggle escaping his lips.
“You walk too slowly,” he said, already walking ahead.
“You don’t even need to carry it.” you grumbled, walking faster to catch up with him.
“I know,” he said with a shrug, still grinning.
“Then why take it?” you asked, finally walking beside him.
He glanced at you sideways, expression unreadable for a fleeting moment before he shrugged.
“It’s what boyfriends do right?” he asked, his head tilted to one side.
You let out a soft puff of breath before nodding. “Yeah, they do.”
The answer shouldn’t have affected you as much as it did, the flush that creeped up your neck was harder to hide with the lighter clothes you had picked out because of the heat. Yet he didn’t say anything about it.
The walk back to your apartment passed quietly after that, though silence around Mahito never truly felt empty.
Sometimes he acted almost normal. Other times he looked at people like they were puzzles waiting to be taken apart. Tonight felt dangerously close to the first.
By the time you reached your apartment, rain was falling in slow uneven droplets, the first one cold against the back of your neck as you climbed the stairs - a reaction which of course made Mahito giggle.
Mahito kicked his shoes off carelessly near the front door - the left one always landed under the entry table, you’d stopped trying to correct it months ago - and sprawled across your couch like he’d lived there for years instead of appearing unpredictably whenever he pleased.
“You’re getting water everywhere,” you muttered while setting the desserts on the coffee table.
“You say that every time,” he whined, still not bothering to move.
“Because you do it every time.” you scolded, yet your voice had no real bite to it.
You sat cross-legged beside him and pulled the plastic spoon from your parfait while Mahito watched with interest, his chin propped lazily against one hand.
Not watching the dessert, but instead watching you.
You noticed that more often lately. Right now, for instance - the way his eyes tracked your fingers as you peeled the lid off the parfait, slow and careful so it wouldn’t spill. The way he registered, without comment, that you scraped the strawberries off the top first because they were your favorite part. Small things most people would never think twice about, he seemed to catalogue.It was unsettling at times, but you’d come to enjoy it. Sometimes it felt intimate in ways you didn’t know how to process.
“What?” you asked, blinking at him, your spoon still in the air, held out in offering.
“You smiled before you even tasted it.” he pointed out, one of his long fingers pointing towards your face.
“That doesn’t mean anything.” you said, with a puff of breath.
“It does.” He leaned slightly closer, blue eyes fixed on your face with unnerving intensity. “Humans react emotionally to food long before they actually consume it.”
You sighed. “Please don’t psychoanalyze my grocery shopping.”
“I’m not analyzing you.” His grin widened slightly. “I’m analyzing humanity.”
“That somehow sounds worse.”
Mahito laughed softly beneath his breath before finally taking the spoon you offered him, for a moment he simply turned it over between his fingers as though considering the concept itself before scooping up a bite of strawberry cream and cake.
You watched him bring the spoon to his mouth, and something in your chest pulled embarrassingly tight at the sight of it. Mahito eating a convenience store parfait. Mahito's mouth closing around the plastic edge of a spoon you'd just used. The mundane shape of him in your apartment after midnight, the dampness of his hoodie sleeve against your knee.
He chewed slowly. Slower than he needed to. His eyes flicked up and met yours mid-bite, and you realized he was watching you watch him - measuring, like he always did, the exact shape of what you wanted from this moment. You looked away before he could finish the calculation. It didn't matter. He'd already done it.
You watched him expectantly despite yourself, watching for his reaction, you wanted him to like the same things you did and Mahito noticed immediately. His eyes flickered toward you before he slowly swallowed.
“You’re thinking too hard about cake.” you said, picking up your own spoon and taking a bite.
“I’m thinking about the reasons why humans like it so much.” he said almost dismissively.
“Because it tastes good?” you said, taking another bite.
“That’s not enough of a reason.” he huffed.
You stared at him flatly. “You are exhausting to talk to.”
Mahito ignored that entirely with a roll of his eyes. “Children get sweets as rewards,” he continued thoughtfully while taking another bite. “Adults buy desserts when they’re stressed. Couples share them during dates even though they’re perfectly capable of eating separately. Humans attach emotional significance to sugar.”
“You sound insane.” you said with a pout.
“I am insane.” he said, laughing loudly, his eyes scrunching up at the corners.
The answer came so quickly and so matter-of-factly that it caught a laugh out of you before you could stop it. Mahito’s gaze lingered on your face immediately afterward.
There it was again, That look.
Not quite confusion, not quite fascination. Something quieter - you hated how difficult he was to read at times.
“You’ve eaten this before,” he said after a moment.
“Obviously.” you said, rolling your eyes.
“No,” he replied softly, eyes narrowing slightly as though piecing something together. “You eat this specifically when you’re tired.”
Your spoon paused halfway to your mouth “…What?”
“You only buy strawberry shortcake after difficult days.” he said, studying your face, gauging your reaction.
“How would you even know that?” you asked, putting your spoon back in the cup.
Mahito shrugged one shoulder lightly, though his attention never left your face. “I pay attention, you’re my girlfriend I’m supposed to pay attention to you.”
The simplicity of the answer made your chest tighten, your cheeks flushing again - because he did. Mahito noticed everything about people whether he wanted to or not, collecting information piece by piece until he understood exactly where to press to make them react.
Rain tapped steadily against the windows, soft and rhythmic against the quiet apartment while the city outside blurred beneath neon reflections and wet pavement.
Mahito leaned back further into the couch cushions, one knee brushing yours absentmindedly.
“My body doesn’t actually need food,” he said after a while.
“I know.” you said, shaking your head.
“But humans do.” He tilted his head slightly. “Which means eating is inherently vulnerable.”
You snorted softly. “Only you could make dessert sound threatening.”
“I’m serious.” His smile returned slowly. “Humans have to constantly indulge themselves just to survive. You’re fragile.”
“And yet somehow you’re the one eating convenience store parfaits on my couch,” you said, finally scooping more cake into your mouth.
Without really thinking about it, you reached toward him a few minutes later and brushed a smear of whipped cream from the corner of his mouth with your thumb.
The movement happened automatically - instinctive. The second you realized what you’d done, your stomach dropped.
Mahito went completely still.
His fingers closed around your wrist before you could pull away - not rough enough to hurt but fast enough to make your pulse stumble hard against your throat.
For a second you didn't breathe. Your other hand was still gripping the parfait cup against your knee, the spoon forgotten somewhere beside you. His fingers were warmer than you expected. They always were - he ran warm in a way that always surprised you, considering what he was. You could feel the careful precision of his grip, the way he was holding you exactly hard enough to keep you there and not one degree more. He could have crushed your wrist. He wasn't.
For a moment neither of you spoke.
Mahito’s gaze dropped to your thumb - to the cream which still smeared across the pad of it - and lingered there longer than it should have. Then it lifted to your face, slow.“That,” he said quietly, “was very human.”
Heat crawled uncomfortably up your neck. “You had something on your face.”
“I know,” he said with a smile.
“Then why didn’t you wipe it off yourself?”
Mahito’s thumb brushed shifted against the inside of your wrist. He found that soft place where you knew he could feel your heart hammering, and he simply paused there. Settle. Not stroking, just resting. As though he wanted to simply feel the rhythm of you against his fingertip.
“I wanted to see if you would.”
The rain. His thumb. Neither of you moving. You could hear yourself swallow, and you knew he could hear it too - could feel it through your pulse where his finger rested. He didn’t say anything else. He didn’t have to. He’d already told you the truth, and now he just wanted to see what you’d do with it.
The honesty in his voice unsettled you far more than teasing would have, because Mahito never lied. He tested people constantly, pushing and pulling at invisible boundaries just to see what they would do, and somehow, without realizing it, you had started participating in those little experiments right alongside him.
“You’re weird,” you muttered.
He didn’t reply, only scooping more cake onto his spoon and chewing with a smile.
At some point Mahito shifted closer without either of you acknowledging it. His shoulder settled comfortably against yours. One of his legs slid over yours, and you adjusted your weight without thinking about it, making room for him the way you always did, the way your body had learned to do without consulting you.
It should have felt invasive, instead it felt normal. Dangerously normal.
“I think I understand something now,” he murmured eventually, voice quieter than before as rain continued tapping softly against the windows.
You glanced sideways at him. “What?”
Mahito lazily traced invisible shapes against your knee with his thumb, attention fixed somewhere beyond the apartment windows where neon lights blurred against wet pavement. “Humans like things that make existing feel softer.”
The words caught you off guard enough that you stared at him for a moment, trying to decide whether he was teasing you or being genuine.
Mahito noticed immediately.
“There’s that look again,” he said, lips curving slightly.
“What look?” you said, your cheeks still hot.
“The one where you start treating me like a person instead of a curse.”
Your chest tightened faintly.
Before you could answer, Mahito leaned forward just enough to steal the last bite of strawberry cream directly from your spoon, smiling afterward when you glared at him.
“That was mine.” you whined, staring into your now-empty cup.
“You were hesitating,” he replied easily. “Which means you didn’t really want it.”
“That’s not how that works.” you said with a pout.
“Hm.”
He rested his head against your shoulder a second later with complete disregard for your complaints, arms loosely wrapping around your waist while he settled against you with the sort of absent intimacy that had long since become second nature between the two of you.
For someone who claimed not to understand humanity, Mahito had become embarrassingly good at seeking you out whenever he wanted comfort.
Your boyfriend has found a new way to terrorise people!
Mahito x gn!reader, soul manipulation, crack, established relationship
The sun shines down on you and your boyfriend, Mahito, rays warming your skin as the wind flutters your newly gained feathers. For just a moment, you close your eyes, basking in the combined feelings. It’s rare that Mahito changes your soul like this, and you want to bask in it.
Mahito flies next to you, content with the experience and observing you for all of two seconds, even if observing you is one of his favourite activities. His eyes begin to wander the world below, looking for something new to entertain himself with, a familiar glint in his eye. The glint that told you he was going to do something stupid.
His three ponytails are flapping freely in the wind, and you already know you have to untangle it for ages once the two of you go back to Dagon’s domain.
The two of you had just been in there, sunbathing in the gentle rays the fake-beach provided. Mahito was arguing with Jogo, again. The scars on his face pulled tight when he was laughing at the volcano-head, trying to rile him up even further.
You were bathing in one of the hot springs, idly floating around the water as your boyfriend was doing dumb shit again. Jogo somehow seemed to always be his subject of entertainment when all of you were in here, the big beach domain.
The leaves on the trees gently rustle in the breeze that blows through the domain. It isn’t a real breeze, just like the sun isn’t real, but it still warms your skin as it beams down on you; it still sets at the end of the day, just like a real sun would. But it’s all simulation.
The butterflies that flutter around are real, Hanami having brought them in from the outside. Flowers gently blooming in their wake as they walk over the patch of greenery that separates the beach from the rest of the domain.
The water under you is real, wetting your skin as you gently float there. You looked down to find your fingers pruned from how long you’d already been soaking.
Tuning out the taunting and yelling, you just kicked your feet a little, water rippling with your movement. Said water became hotter and hotter, until you felt like you were being boiled alive. With a sigh you got out of the water, toweling yourself off.
Jogo was absolutely fuming, heat waves rippling off him as the water beneath his feet was now bubbling, a sign that Mahito had succeeded in his plan—annoying Jogo to the point where he almost uses his Cursed Technique on him. Not that it does anything to the soul-shaper, which is why he likes to rile Jogo up in the first place.
The ocean began to tremble, the fish that were in there stirring. Dagon’s ever watchful eyes didn’t let it go unnoticed that the feud between the two had successfully woken him up from his slumber.
That’s when you knew you should probably get your boyfriend out of here, not because he was in any harm, but because there was a possibility of a fight breaking out between the other curses.
With just a nod of your head, Mahito started following you, out of the domain and into the sky. He had manipulated both your souls to give you a pair of wings, able to fly over the busy Tokyo life. People are bustling about—on their way to work, school, doing groceries.
Looking back at your boyfriend, you note how he’s grinning now, eyes crinkling with the motion as he lets out a laugh.
“Wanna play a game?” He drawls, full of child-like joy with the new game he came up with in his head. The glint in his eye makes you think twice before agreeing. “We scare that bird over there to try and get it to hit one of the people below.”
He wants to do what now? Normally a game with Mahito involves humans and shaping their souls to his every whim, twisting and turning, trying to see just how far the soul can go. “You want to play… what, bullseye with the shit of birds?”
Mahito merely grins and nods his head, mirth in his eyes as he looks expectantly at you. Sighing through your nose, you close your eyes for a quick second, letting his dumbassery wash over you. Of course playing a game with him never ends well, but this is truly unique. “Sure, why not?”
The two of you wait until a bird is flying directly over the people on the sidewalk—poor thing doesn’t know what’s about to happen.
You point at a lady in the crowd. “It’s gonna hit her, the one with the purple blouse.” Mahito hums, pointing at a businessman that walks about four meters in front of her. “It’s gonna hit him.”
With that, he dives down towards the bird, who startles. The effect is instant—a white glob flies through the air, falling straight down, until it falls on a woman’s purse, not the woman you pointed out.
Pouting, you look over at Mahito, who is belly laughing. He clearly doesn’t care about the fact that neither of you ‘won’, he just likes terrorising humans, and if this is the way of doing it, he can do it all day long.
The two of you continue playing this game for a while, birds getting scared, shitting onto humans down below. There was one instance where you swore you won—the bird shit hit the man’s shoe—but Mahito just rolled his eye and told you that didn’t count. Whatever.
It’s only a while later, when you two are flying over a less populated area, that Mahito finally wins. He’d guessed it would hit the guy with the dark brown hair, and sure enough, it did—white splattering against said hair, creating a stark contrast that you couldn’t ignore.
With a delighted laugh, your boyfriend stoops down, hair flapping around wildly as he dives for the guy. “Whoaaa, wait what are you doing?”
“I won!” he gleefully shouts at you, before his hand touches the guy, turning him into a small, lifeless soul for his collection. Putting it in his pocket, he flaps his wings, returning to where you’re hovering in the sky. “We can go home now.”
“You are aware that Geto is gonna scold us if he found out you transformed yet another human in broad daylight, right?” you mumble, already turning to go back to Dagon’s domain.
“Mhmmm, but he won’t find out!” Mahito easily replies, looking you over with a glint in his eye that lets you know he knows you won’t tell Geto about the incident.
Yeah, just a normal day out terrorising humans with your boyfriend.
My first entry for CactusVolumes' Underrated Secret event. This one is specifically for @heavenlysnail and any other Mahito lovers out there.
Thank you @cactusvolumes for helping with this one.
Hiiiiii so this is gorgeous and I just
Thank you so much for spending the time to write this. He's so beautiful and mischievous and I'm sobbing. Gorgeous. Stunning. Amazing. Spectacular. Insane about this 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹
Striped and Bleeding (R.S.)
Synopsis: You're just heading down to the beach like any other day, when you see something you never would've expected
Tags/Warnings: Shark!Sukuna x GN!Reader, AFAB!Reader, injured!character, wound tending, first meeting, meet cute sort of
Word Count: 2,051
Notes: A special gift for my best friend @claryeverlarkf
It was the very last thing that you’d been expecting to see, and yet somehow not the biggest surprise of the day. Heading down to the little cove near your cottage home, descending the slightly slippery stone stairs most visitors to the area didn’t dare traverse to your own personal slice of peace. The first few metres was all pebbles, not the sort of place you’d head to spend a relaxing afternoon, but past that was your paradise. A stretch of golden sand where you left out your little shelter tent, an ice box you refilled whenever you came by, and a chair moulded to the shape of your body so it could be effortlessly comfortable. You wore your usual bathers- deep cherry red, a bikini top with shorts rather than one of those tiny bikini bottoms. The sun beat down on your back, but the temperature was mild enough that it felt comforting rather than stifling. Perfect.
You headed for the rocky outcrop that kept your favourite spot so private, the sort of formation that most rogue tourists wouldn’t bother to make their way around, especially since they couldn’t guess that paradise was on the other side. That was when you noted that something seemed different, your first inkling that something today was going to be different. The waves were settled as they usually were, but you could hear that just beyond your view that they were hitting differently. Rather than just creeping up the sand, they must be hitting something. Something that wasn’t usually there.
You got a firm grip on the rocks, and used it to haul yourself over and around the few rocks that were actively in the way of your pathing, and that was when you saw exactly what was causing the difference. A damn ship wreck.. what the fuck? That wasn’t there yesterday.
You hesitated for a moment, unsure whether to approach or turn away. but something about it called you in. Really, you could call the coast guard so they could investigate.. but just a peek wouldn’t hurt. You edged closer bit by bit, your lunch tossed aside in your chair for safe keeping.
Then came the second surprise of the day.
Inside the wreck, trapped under some fallen debris and struggling to get out was a man. It took a moment to process what was in front of you because, he wasn’t a man, not really. Just there beneath the debris, where there should’ve been a pair of legs thrashing and kicking for freedom, was instead a pink tail. A what? You shook your head, blinking a few times as if somehow you might just be seeing things that aren’t there. But, sure enough, it remained. A pink tail that resembled that of a shark, a similar shade to the hair on his head, the fins tipped in black.
“Hello?” You asked hesitantly, hand resting on one of the wooden planks so you could peer into the slightly dark space, trying to get a better look at whoever was inside. “Get lost.” The man grunted, and you were struck by how exhausted he already sounded, like his throat was dry. You paused, considering your options, before you dashed back to where you’d left your lunch.
There, in the cooler box from yesterday, was a bottle of water. There was a brief moment where you considered whether instead of giving him a bottle of fresh water, you should pour it out and give him some salt water instead. Well, the tail looked quite attached to him, so you figured he must drink salt water, right? It only took a minute for you to exchange the cold fresh water for the lukewarm salt water of the ocean, and with it in hand you returned to the wreck.
When you got there, he was no longer struggling, just softly panting, clearly taking a break from what he must’ve been doing for hours.
“You look tired. I have water, and food.” You offered, fingers fidgeting around the bottle. The man looked up at you, blood red eyes unnerving in their intensity as they focused on you, then drew down to the bottle in your hand. He dragged his eyes back up to you, seemingly analysing you to make a decision, and then he just nodded.
Carefully, slowly, you worked your way into the wreck, not wanting to risk disturbing it and causing more damage. He took the water in a surprisingly human hand, though his fingers were webbed with nails that were more like claws and black in colour. On closer inspection, though the skin of his upper half was pale, it was also marked as if he were tattooed, matching the small amount of his tail that you could see.
He drained the bottle in a matter of seconds, then tossed the plastic back towards you, which you just barely managed to catch. With a newfound strength, he thrashed his tail hard once, twice, then a third time and some of the debris managed to dislodge. You quickly padded over and hauled away a few of the smaller fragments of wood so the total weight would be less heavy for him to shift, and when you stepped back, he gave a final big thrash and knocked the majority of the debris on him aside. With that, he was able to drag himself with his hands out from what remained.
Now with a full view of him, you were able to properly admire the view. He was handsome, with a sharp jaw, a strong nose, and his abs were prominent just above his tail. The tail itself was intimidating, that pink shade you’d already noticed, with a white underside, and the black markings continued across smooth skin, not just at the tips of his fins, almost akin to tiger stripes, if you had to make a comparison. He wasn’t just handsome, he was damn hot.
Then, your eyes caught sight of some blood pooling and dripping down his tail. Your eyes trailed after a droplet for a long moment, watching the way it trailed across skin slowly, gravity pulling it down and into the grains of sand below him, staining them in the process.
“You’re hurt.” The words came out before you could stop them, and his eyes snapped back up to your face, teeth bared in what must’ve been a warning. “Back up.” You knew the feeling creeping down your spine, the understanding that you were in danger, should’ve scared you and made you want to run, but instead it only compelled you to stay. “Okay, but will you let me help you again?” You asked him, taking two large, deliberate steps backwards. The man seemed to consider that, with eyes narrowed, watching your movements carefully.
“Empty your pockets.” He roughly demanded, and you turned them out for him to see that they were already empty.
“..Fine.” He agreed, but it was clear he was reluctant to do it, only agreeing because of how precarious the situation was. You explained briefly that you’d need to go get some supplies to help him, but first you’d bring him something to eat. You found yourself glad you’d not put fish on your sandwich that day.
With a chicken sandwich in his hand, and another bottle of water in the sand for him to take when he wanted it, you dashed across the sand and then the pebbles, up the dangerous stone stairs and all the way back to your place. Your first aid kit was stocked, so you took that, and the rest of the pack of chicken you’d used to make your sandwich. Bread probably wasn’t the best thing to feed him, but meat should be. Right? You were guessing, but you were sure he’d eat it either way, he seemed hungry.
There was another moment then, as you stood in the doorway of your home, ready to return to the beach that you questioned yourself. What were you doing? Surely this went against every ‘stranger danger’ lesson that you’d ever been given, to not only help a stranger but one that wasn’t entirely human? But then also, why should him not being human factor in? He was capable of communicating with you - he passed the Harkness test, your brain supplied, which was entirely unhelpful in the moment. With a quick shake of your head to clear your mind of all its questionable thoughts, you headed back towards the beach. You were in too deep now.
When you returned to the wreck the man was curled in on himself, his torso leaned over his tail where it was wounded, as if guarding it, keeping himself safe from harm. You lifted the chicken pack for him to see, then tossed it to him rather than getting close enough to hand it to him.
“I’ve got medical stuff, so I can help with your wound.” You told him, once he’d started eating the meat you’d offered. Peace offering success. “Why?” Was his response, and admittedly you supposed that was fair. You also weren’t sure you had an answer for him. Why were you helping? “Because I don’t like seeing people hurt, I guess.” You told him with a shrug, but the look on his face told you that he didn’t believe you for even a moment. You sighed and sat down opposite him, legs crossed beneath you, and decided to try again.
“Plus, I’ve never seen something like you. I just want to get close, I guess. I really don’t like that you’re hurt, though. It looks painful, and you’re beautiful. Beautiful things shouldn’t bleed.” The words felt more truthful as they passed your lips, and though his lip curled with distaste at your words, he seemed to believe them too. He kept you both in a slightly tense silence for a while longer as he continued to eat, then downed the bottle of water you’d given him earlier.
When his eyes landed on you next, you felt as if the world had gone dark, with a spotlight shone only on you. You fidgeted slightly under the intensity of it, his dark eyes dragging over your form, taking in every inch of you. “Fine.” He finally agreed, and so you slowly shuffled over the sand to sit closer to him. He uncurled, giving you access to his tail, and it struck you suddenly just how large he really was. Oh wow.
But, you focused as best you could on doing what you could do for him. Antiseptic, some waterproof bandages you had since you loved to swim, and a regular wipe just to clean away anything else in the wound that shouldn’t be there. When you were done, you’d used all of your bandages due to his size, but you figured it’d be worth it. He remained silent for the entire process, watching you with lips pursed, each movement you made followed by his piercing gaze.
You shuffled back to give him some space to move, and watched him poke and prod your work a few times, before he simply nodded. “It will do.” He decided, then began dragging himself towards the water’s edge, ready to return to wherever he’d come from. You helped move some of the debris out of his way, careful as you followed, until he was dipping below the surface to swim past what remained. You dashed out of the wreck to watch him surface a small ways away, shaking off some water, his eyes returning to you.
A thick disappointment draped over your shoulders, making a home deep in your gut. You’d been hoping you might get more time to talk to him, to learn about him and his culture and where the hell he’d come from. Nobody would ever believe you about what happened here today, but that wasn’t the thing you cared about most.
“You never told me your name!” You yelled, the realisation striking you quite suddenly. “Neither did you.” He returned, and then just like that, he was gone. He dipped beneath the water, tail flicking briefly after him and then even the shadow of him beneath the waves disappeared.
You’d met some sort of.. mer-shark, and you’d helped him with an injury, and you didn’t even know his name.
Tags: @cainnoable @uselessboots @claryeverlarkf @queenmimi2817 @hellkaiserinphoenix @yoonsucks @fanaticsnail @lilithkleia @yuurivalr @wrennyx @lunulatalux @gojosbigboobies @cursedkisss
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Let's be cool and intimidating with big sister
What if:
Jogo and Hanami are just normal humans-
◇The humanized versions are my designs originally and I didn't copy any other artist's work. (,,•́ . •̀,,)◇
IG: @suweetohaato
Deviantart: @suweetohaato
a simple meme nothing more
Something, somewhere, just like this
Masterlist Here
Word Count: 1,700+
Synopsis: Aoi Todo was the kind of man who constantly surprised you. For the longest time, you were nowhere near interested in him romantically. It was not love at first sight, but what you did feel was something like a little crush the longer you spent time with him. And he made his interest in you abundantly clear the more often you spent time together.
Themes: Aoi Todo x gn!reader, shy reader, no pronouns used for reader, establishing relationship, love confession, adoration, gentleness, fluff, minor angst (hurt/comfort), dates.
Notes: first time writing for Todo! He's soooooooo~. Just so cute.
Aoi Todo was the kind of man who constantly surprised you. From being exceptionally built like a stone castle, abdomen chiseled by every god that ever smiled upon his lineage, to his softer side when he speaks about his love for the pop idol, Takada. For the longest time, you were nowhere near interested in him romantically; just seeing him as a ‘dude-bro’ from your years as a first year sorcerer all the way to partnering with him in your third year for several missions. It was not love at first sight, but what you did feel was something like a little crush the longer you spent time with him.
The first time he’d asked you to go out to eat after exorcising the cursed spirit you were sent after, arriving back at the Jujutsu High compound and on the green lawn outside the building, you shrugged and uttered a smiley: ‘why not’. He seemed over the moon with that response and took you by the hand to a small cafe with pastries as far as the eye could see, and he seemed to know them all by name. He listened to your tastes and your flavor preferences, and ordered two that you couldn’t decide between.
“This way, if you like one more that the other, I’ll have the one you like least,” he spoke gleefully, “I’m easy, babe.” Just that little term of endearment was enough to have your heart soar and glow within your chest. Paying for the pastries, he took you to the grassy banks close to the school and sat with you - talking about the latest Takada concert alongside the new routine at the gym while you listened with your preferred pastry tucked into your hands and eating it slowly.
The second time he’d asked you out was when he was recovering in the hospital after fighting a spirit he was well out of his depths in fighting. He was still that smiley Todo you had come to enjoy, but with a large scar down his features that couldn’t be healed as well as the hospital had assumed. You said ‘yes’ without question, not even determining a plan that he was going to suggest. You simply left his hospital suite in a rush and didn’t look back to witness the glassy eyes gazing back at you with a heart consumed with rejection.
When you’d returned with a bento box, hot and filled with the aroma of grilled unagi, rice, soft-pickled plums, and miso broth - that was the first time you’d ever seen Todo cry. Between you feeding him mouthfuls in his bed and you blowing on the rice in the spoon, he’d admitted he meant ‘later’, not ‘right now’. Embarrassment consumed your face and burned it like the crisped edges of the unagi, to which Todo chuckled loudly and reassured you that you were perfect as you were.
The third time he was going to ask you out, you’d surprised him by approaching him with two VIP passes to a meet and greet with Takada at her collaboration with Baby Metal. This collaboration was notoriously difficult to get tickets to, which Todo admitted through thick, glassy tears streaming down his face. You nodded with a smile, admitting you knew how difficult they’d be to procure so you went on a waiting list two years earlier. Todo’s shock was only temporary before he’d rushed to engulf you into a thick embrace, his muscular form contracting around you and softening into your skin.
At the concert, he and you remained side by side and brushing the backs of your hands together while listening to Takada. You snuck your phone out and managed to take a picture of Todo in a way that it looked like Takada was singing to him and him alone in a sea of people jealous of him. You’d shown him after the concert on the train ride back to Tokyo, and he jokingly dropped to one knee and proposed to you immediately. Swatting his shoulder with a laugh and telling him to stop joking around had the elderly woman watching you both chuckling to herself before returning to her knitting.
Aoi Todo was a man full of surprises, which you had known in dating him for about six months without truly knowing what they truly were each time. Despite laughing together, walking together, fighting side by side - together as all things organic could be: you and he had never made your relationship defined and official.
Until he’d met Itadori Yuuji.
“What kind of girl you like?” you’d overheard Todo with the first year, smiling at him with his wolfish grin and chin tucked between a pistol-like finger motion. Yuuji continued on to admit his type and described everything you knew aligned with Todo’s belief - the latter immediately solidifying them as brothers from that point on. You’d smiled and made to walk away from the conversation - only stopping when you’d heard your name.
“They’re my partner. Like, in everything, man. I love them with all my heart,” you heard Todo speak confidently, “You’d love them too. Perfect in every way - even when they think I’m not looking. I’ll introduce you later, trust. We can all go out for BBQ or something after, yeah?”
“Yeah, sounds good, man.”
That was it. The entirety of the conversation that you’d replay in your head over and over laying in your bed alone until you’d hidden yourself beneath your thick duvet and attempted to sleep with your blood rhythmically pumping in your ears and heart racing like it was trying for a gold medal in the olympics. Todo had never actually asked you to be his partner. He simply assumed you were.
The next time Todo asked you out, he jogged up beside you and away from Mei Mei before scooping you into his arms and spun you. He chuckled into your neck and placed you down on the ground while darting his eyes between yours.
“You’ve been avoiding me, baby,” he pointed out with a firm finger pointed down at you, “Why do that to my heart like that?” Your eyes fell to the floor and you nibbled your lip shyly. He furrowed his brows and moved his hand to cup your cheek and angle your head up to look at him. You leaned your head into his palm and closed your eyes before opening them again.
“Have you noticed that we’re dating…? Like a couple…?” you asked so soft that he strained to hear your voice, “...And you’ve never asked me? You know, to… Officially be yours?”
The weight to which Todo’s heart sunk from his chest into his asshole was almost audible. His smile fell from his face and his knees buckled until he dropped directly to them in front of you. His eyes were pooling on the waterline, slowly making them glassy with a soft sheen of tears developing on his features.
“I-I-... I’m so sorry,” Todo moved his hand from cupping your cheek to around your middle, burying his head into your belly before tilting his head back and pressing his chin up to see you, “I didn’t even think that you wouldn’t want to be mine. I should’ve asked properly. I’m so-... It’s just-... I’m so stupid sometimes.” You shook your head and moved your right hand down to cup his scarred cheek and thumbed over the mark you’d witnessed him recover from.
“You’re not stupid,” you spoke firmly before softening your features into a gentle smile, “You getting ahead of yourself and passionate about things is what I love most about you.” Todo’s hands firmed against your uniform, scrunching the fabric into desperate fistfuls and beaming softly up at you.
“You love me?” he whimpered quietly. You nodded with a small chuckle floating from your throat down at him, “Do… Do you want to like… Go… Steady… With me? Like… Like officially?” You nodded more enthusiastically this time and watched him raise to his feet - his grip taking you with him and off your feet while he effortlessly picked you up.
“Aoi Todo put me down,” you giggled and swatted his body back playfully while he simply shook his head and carried you towards the garden outside the Jujutsu High buildings. The only time he’d set you down was when he sat on the plush, green lawn you were standing on the first time he’d asked you to go and eat months ago.
“I love you,” Todo nodded firmly, “So much, I hope you know that.” He reached for your hands and lifted them to his face, cupping yours around cupping his face. Todo tilted his chin to place a kiss on each palm before melting into your touch in a way that had your heart flutter in your chest before his confession registered. You slowly thumbed over the apple of each cheek before you moved your arms to close around the nape of his neck, playing with the baby hairs he was unable to tuck into his tied hair.
“I loved you first,” you admitted quietly while you pressed your chest into his, “And probably the most between us, despite my hesitation. I just wanted to know where we stood… Officially, I mean. I know where I want to be, and it’s something, somewhere, just like this. With you.”
You were the kind of person who constantly surprised Aoi Todo. From being fighting alongside a peer with a pinpoint efficiency unmatched by others, focussing on ensuring your team survived before yourself, to the louder side you attempted to hide for the sake of your friends. For the longest time, he was in love with everything about you; just seeing you as that one person he could see himself fighting side by side with, only to fall into a sweet, domesticated rhythm in a house together with both a cat and a dog named after his favorite idol, Takada. It was love at first sight, and he had been desperate to spend time with you one on one from the first time he’d laid eyes on you - but education and your job always seemed to get in the way.
As your lips pressed against his, forming a seal and molding your skin to his in perfect synchrony, Aoi Todo was already picking out the colours in the living space of your tiny cottage away from it all. The kiss was sweet, but with a deep, lingering hunger that he couldn’t withhold any longer from you. It was love, through and through, and you felt yourself finally, completely, falling off that ledge and into the deep pool of devotion that was one: Aoi Todo.
Thank you for reading! If you enjoy this, please check out my masterlist for other JJK fics, my monsterlist pinned at @sultrysnail for original content, or my one piece masterlist pinned at @fanaticsnail.
Time and Place (M.)
Date: Not a date, but a date
Synopsis: You don’t go on dates with Mahito, it’s nothing so involved, no. You just pick a time and a literal date, and he shows up at your place so you can get what you need from each other Tags/Warnings: Mahito/GN!Reader, AFAB!Reader, smut, top!reader, pegging, multiple orgasms (ment), face sitting, cunnilingus, hair pulling, dirty talk Word Count: 1,226
A blind date for my dear @fanaticsnail for this event
AO3 | Masterlist | Req Rules | Trades | Community | WIPs
Mahito wasn’t the sort of person you settle down with, but he was good with his fingers and that was enough for you. You didn’t need to be able to settle down with him, you just needed a couple of orgasms every now and then, and that was something he was capable of giving to you.
More than, even.
He was a dedicated lover, if a pain in your ass (in a generally non-literal sense, but sometimes far more literal, it depended on your mood that day). He wanted to make you cry and tremble, and sometimes he wanted to be the one absolutely wrung dry. The two of you made a good pair, all things considered. It was potentially a little unorthodox, but you didn’t need it to be anything else. You set a time, and a date, and that was all you needed to do. He’d be there, he always was no matter what was going on, he made it work.
Which was how, this week, you had him bent over the back of your sofa. He twitched and whimpered, just the way you like, three orgasms already wrung from his body but you were far from done. Your strap bullied against his prostate, driving each sound from him forcefully, fingers scrambling for some sort of purchase in the fabric below that he wouldn’t be able to find, or at least he wouldn’t be able to keep to it, far too overwhelmed, and squirmy. “One more, you can take one more, right?” You prompted him, lifting his hips just a little higher as his feet slipped, allowing you to slam home even deeper all over again. You couldn’t feel the way he was twitching around you, but you were more than aware that he must be by now from past experience, and you could feel it when you ran your thumb over his rim, the muscle fluttering beneath your touch. “I- I can be so good, I promise! I can- I can take-” but his words were cut off as you reached beneath him to tweak his nipples, just the right side of painful, making him arch and his cock twitch pitifully, hardly able to leak a drop of precum anymore. “Go on then, give me one more.” You replied, voice husky against his ear, breath ghosting over his skin just to feel the way he shivered and pale skin broke out in goosebumps. He was such a brat until the first orgasm, or sometimes two, and then he became this moldable putty in your hands, perfect as long as you just kept going. You couldn’t give him time to recover, lest he get back that mouth you loved to hate.
It only took another few firm thrusts for him to tense up, scrambling desperately against the couch cushions as he spilled again with a whine of almost pain. There was far less cum now than there had been the first time, and then the second. It bordered on pitiful, but you knew that he’d let you keep going until he was cumming entirely dry if you wanted to. But, not today, that wasn’t what you were in the mood for.
“Lay down.” You told him as you pulled out, watching him choose to crawl forwards and haul himself over the back of the sofa rather than attempting to walk around it. He positioned himself onto his knees, ass up at first, and you had to chuckle. You unclipped the strap you’d been wearing, and tossed it onto the arm chair to clean up later.
“Not like that,” you told him, delivering a sharp smack to his ass, “on your back, mouth open.” Mahito groaned at the command, clearly figuring out exactly what you were planning to do to him. He reached out and made grabby hands at you, to which you just rolled your eyes, continuing your advance towards him. You wasted no time, kneeling down on the sofa then lifting yourself up and over his face, so your clit pressed to his top lip. He wasted no time either, Mahito never did. Everything he did was eager, greedy. His hands, his cock, and his tongue most of all. It felt longer inside you than it looked, his hands gripping your thighs like he thought you might change your mind and try to run, or like he was trying to bruise you somehow. Maybe he was. That quiet claim left on your body for nobody else to see, because as much as this was far from romance, you were both aware you weren’t seeing anyone else, and neither of you were trying to.
There had been a lot of things you’d needed to teach Mahito about his body in the time you’d spent sleeping together, but how to eat cunt wasn’t one of them. He was eager, and that had been enough when he was less sure about what to do, but now he was an expert. He’d always been able to make you feel good with that searching tongue, diving into every inch of you like a man starved, and you were his final meal. You were distantly aware, as your head tipped back with a breathy moan, that he was humping the air behind you, somehow already hard and leaking again, but god forbid he let go of your thighs while he devoured you. He needed to be touching you, a hand on his own length would just be a waste.
With a mouth like his, lapping over even the deepest parts of you, and fingers lifted reluctantly from your thigh to rub a thumb insistently at your clit, you were bound to come soon. The way you rocked against his face wasn’t even voluntarily, just your body searching for what it needed to bring you over the precipice. You reached down just enough to tangle your fingers into fair blue tresses, tugging him upwards and deeper into you, his responding moan resounding through you and sending a jolt of pleasure up your spine.
The moment you were close, you felt your orgasm closing in like an inevitable end. Your hips rolled, grinding down against Mahito’s tongue and thumb against you, but that was when he changed. His mouth attached to your clit to suckle at it eagerly, lapping at it with the flat of his tongue while three fingers pushed inside you at once, curling and spreading to work you open and pliant, brushing over your gspot with each movement. The sudden change and massive spike in pleasure was enough to do it, sending you hurtling over the edge far sooner than you’d been anticipating. Your fingers tangled harder in his hair, holding him firmly against you as the pleasure rippled through your body, harsh pants of breath escaping Mahito’s nose against your pelvis, but the way his eyes rolled back told you that he was quite content to suffocate right there.
Eventually, you released him and let him lick you clean before you crawled back off him. He seemed quite content to be left there, still recovering while you found your underwear somewhere on the floor, and grabbed the strap to go clean it.
“How about Thursday the 14th?” Mahito’s shaky voice rang out around the apartment. Another date, another couple orgasms. “Sure, I think I’m free then.”
Tag list: @claryeverlarkf @uselessboots @cainnoable @hyperfixationthingss @queenmimi2817 @fanaticsnail @villainousace @hellkaiserinphoenix @satorusrealm
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Bonding Over Beef (R.S.)
Synopsis: You're an elementary school teacher, and in your class is one Itadori Yuuji. Sometimes, he's picked up by his mother Kaori, and sometimes it's his handsome uncle Sukuna
Tags/Warnings: Sukuna x F!Reader, uncle!Sukuna, teacher!reader, fluff, silly, meet cute, first date, wingman baby Yuuji, first kiss, flirting
Word Count: 1,543
Notes: The secondary entry in my aggressive positivity collection, for the most beautiful gorgeous @getorade
As an elementary school teacher, the primary adults you interacted with when it came to the children in your care was parents, followed by grandparents. The main support system around children, attending pickup and parent-teacher meetings. But Itadori Yuuji was a part of the minority, you seemed to see his uncle Sukuna just as often as you saw his mother Kaori. Little Yuuji always seemed just as pleased to see his uncle as his mother, sometimes moreso, but you supposed that was none of your business - he was a happy kid, of course he was excited to see the adults in his life.
For your part, you were always far more happy to see Sukuna. He was handsome, sarcastic and biting in a way you’d always been able to appreciate, and well.. you shouldn’t think it, because it was none of your business, but you just didn’t like Kaori. You hated to say it, because women supporting woman and everything, but there was just something about her that rubbed you the wrong way. You’d met Yuuji’s lovely father Jin, and you’d privately spoken to your best friend just to say.. you really weren’t sure what he saw in her. Maybe that was too far, because again it truly was none of your business.. but you couldn’t help thinking it. The woman just unsettled you in a way you couldn’t explain. Okay - you’re justifying yourself to yourself, take a deep breath.
Anyway.
She just wasn’t your favourite parent, and you liked Sukuna better. That was no crime.
One thing you’d slowly come to learn over the course of pickups with Sukuna was that he also was not his sister-in-law’s biggest fan. Far from it, actually. You’d found out one day when you’d been just a little too obvious about your relief to see him. You’d not intended for it, but it’d been a particularly long day and you’d not been quick enough to mask your reaction on seeing him.
“Long day?” Sukuna asked with that smirk that gave you butterflies as he approached, kneeling down preemptively to catch Yuuji as he sprinted towards his uncle to be lifted up. “Something like that.” You’d replied, watching the interaction between the two pink haired boys with a smile. “You looked relieved to see me, now I’m not gonna complain about a pretty girl looking at me like that, but it makes me think there’s someone you were dreading to see.” He mused as he fixed Yuuji’s collar and hair absently, like it was a habit to do it. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mr Ryomen.” “None of that shit, I’ve told you, call me Sukuna.” He said, looking down with you a disapproving raised brow that oddly made you think he’d make a good teacher himself, in another life maybe. Older kids, probably the troubled ones. It was people like him who were good with kids like that.
“Alright, Sukuna, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You tried again, amusement tugging at your lips. He waited patiently as you briefly spoke to a parent, handing over their kid and waving them goodbye. “Oh so you’re not matching my energy, and dreading seeing Kaori?” He asked, and his expression was just a little too knowing. You shook your head slightly, but chose not to comment.
“Alright, I’ll see you around.” Sukuna said, but the look on his face told you that he’d heard everything he needed to in your silence. You just waved him and Yuuji goodbye, but you had a feeling this wouldn’t be the last time Kaori would come up between you and Sukuna.
Sure enough, it kept coming up. You never said anything that could be twisted, but you were learning that your face said plenty when Sukuna asked the right questions. You never said a bad word about Kaori, it was far from professional and God forbid Yuuji hear it, but it was nice to have someone to bond with. What Sukuna said about his own sister-in-law was really his business, and not yours. You were just listening, and being polite. And providing the appropriate facial and bodily reactions to the information. And maybe direly clawing at the bars of your enclosure with the desire to actually reply. You really wish you could.
Sukuna walked up to the classroom door with a little extra swagger in his step today. You watched him from there in the doorway, keeping track of the children as they left with their parents and guardians, making sure nobody went missing. You know, your job. He looked different, like he’d actually styled his hair maybe, and the jacket he was wearing looked new. Not that you’d notice that sort of thing, of course. Nope, not you.
“Lookin’ good today, pooks.” He remarked, leaning up against the brick wall beside the door as he so often did, like he was comfortable there and in your space. He’d started calling you the ridiculous name after Yuuji had once boldly stood between the two of you and asked his uncle, without shame, whether you were his ‘pookie’. The name had unfortunately stuck after the laughter had cleared. Not that you minded it so much, he always managed to say it like it wasn’t utterly ridiculous, and instead made it sound almost soft. Like he was saying it with feeling that shouldn’t be there.
“You look like you’ve cleaned yourself up today, Sukuna.” You turned to call for Yuuji, but Sukuna stopped you, gently gripping your wrist. “Hey, just a second,” he said, softer than you’d ever heard his voice. You turned back to face him, because you couldn’t help being curious, even as you tried not to get your hopes up. You’d felt like something was simmering between the two of you, but you could’ve just been reading the whole thing wrong. It was a possibility. “Yeah?” “Let me take you out,” he seemed to rush it out, like he was concerned that he’d lose his nerve, “just for.. coffee, or something.” “When?” You simply asked, and Sukuna almost looked like he hadn’t been prepared for that part. “Uh- Saturday?” “Is that a statement, or a question?” You asked him with a soft laugh, brow lifted with amusement. “A statement. Let me take you out, for coffee, on Saturday.”
You made a show of looking like you were considering it, weighing up your options, before you just nodded. “Saturday. I’ll see you at 1pm.” “Meet at the park, opposite here.”
He was there when you arrived at 12:45 on Saturday, leaned up against the metal railing around the park. His hands were shoved into his pockets, one earbud in, the other hanging from the wire just in front of his chest. “Sukuna.” You called, prompting him to look up and meet your eyes. “You’re early.” “So are you.” Neither teased for it, you were in the same boat after all. He did offer you his hand though, and you were powerless to do anything but take it. He was being so sweet, you just couldn’t refuse him.
Conversation with another person had never flowed so easily. It was like the two of you had been friends for years rather than brief acquaintances for just months. He paid for the first coffees and the pastries, but when you stayed long enough to need more drinks, you paid. It was only fair, though Sukuna had tried to beat you to it with his card. Unfortunately for him, you were the fastest card tapper this side of the river.
You ended up staying in the coffee shop right until closing, and then Sukuna walked you home too, your arm linked with his, your other hand on his upper arm as you just kept talking. You’d have thought that somehow you’d have run out of topics by now, and yet there always seemed to be something more to say, another topic to explore.
“You know, when I started talking to you about Kaori, I didn’t expect to get this far.” Sukuna commented as you stepped up towards your front door, a small smile on his lips. “It’s funny what disliking the same person can do for you.” “So you finally admit it then?” “I didn’t say I was talking about us.” You replied, pushing your key into the lock. Sukuna groaned at your non-response, and all you could do was laugh. He was so utterly ridiculous.
“Do I at least get a second date?” He asked, taking one more step forward, not quite closing you in but enough that you had to tilt your head slightly more to look up at him. “Are you going to ask me properly?” “You’re hard work, aren’t you?” He said shaking his head, but the action was fond. “Is that a problem?” “If it’s you? No.”
That hung heavy in the air between you, and when Sukuna took your hand you let it happen, his fingers lacing with yours just to guide your hand up to his lips, kissing your knuckles. “Do I get a real kiss?” “Are you going to ask properly?” He retorted, mirroring your own words. “Kiss me.” You whispered, and Sukuna leaned in without hesitation to press his lips to yours.
Tags: @claryeverlarkf @uselessboots @cainnoable @queenmimi2817 @hellkaiserinphoenix @wrennyx @lunulatalux @gojosbigboobies @yoonsucks @fanaticsnail @yuurivalr
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DISTURBIA. MAHITO / M!READER
summary. in the golden age of jujutsu, mahito had you, and lost you. a thousand years later, he seeks to bring you back.
wc. 9.1k
tags. smut | sub bottom mahito, top reader, heian era!mahito & cursed spirit!reader (manifestation of fear of night/absence of light), reader had a cult/worshippers. mention of blood & gore. mahito with a pussy, size difference, breeding kink, mention of babytrapping. fingering + oral (mahito receiving), doggystyle, exhibitionism (mention of others overhearing), jealousy, praise, multiple orgasms (mahito receiving), creampie, ahegao (?), god kink (reader), temp play (reader is naturally cold)
notes. obligatory ooc warning. also, i made up a lot of lore for the reader('s abilities), so scroll down about halfway to skip it and get to the good part :)
[ requested ]
Deep in the beech forests of Northeast Japan, Geto Suguru stands delicately amongst the verdant green undergrowth. He glances around, petting his large winged cursed spirit absently, and gathers his long dark robes in a hand. He glances over his shoulder.
"Despite your insistence on coming here, you've been awfully quiet. Is it not what you imagined?"
Bent at the waist to inspect massive green leaves as large as his face, Mahito looks up. "Huh? Oh, I was just curious about how they went about their plan. This place is maaassive. How are we supposed to find him? Maybe they cut him up? Sprinkled him from the highest mountain?" He sighs. "Whatever they did – they chose a green place to do it. Hanami would probably like it."
Dismissing his cursed spirit with a wave of his hand, Suguru chooses a direction and begins to move. He doesn't so much as walk as glide, his long skirts and the heavy undergrowth obscuring his steps. The tall, slim beeches are set just far enough apart for one person to slip between their trunks, and Mahito is forced to fall into step behind Suguru.
He flexes his fingers; stretches his arms; kicks ferns. Twigs tug at his hair and he huffs, glaring at the tree that dared touch him. He clasps the section of hair to his chest, dragging his slim fingers through it obsessively.
"You're twitchy," Suguru says without turning around. "You never did say how you heard of this curse. Seeing as you're not busy running your mouth, why don't you tell me now?"
Mahito sighs, skipping over a fallen log overrun with moss. He gazes up at the trees and notices the way the thick emerald canopy filters the sunlight until all that's left is an even, misty glow. Shadows are soft and deep around here.
"Not much to say," he hums thoughtfully, knocking a branch out of his way. "Lotta curses back in the day. Just makes sense to have some hidden around the place."
"Yes, but how did you come across such old records? Surely sorcerers would've kept something like that far, far away from prying eyes."
"Humans get tired. They get clumsy. They misplace things."
Suguru raises a brow. "And you kept it? For a thousand years, without purpose?"
Airily, he says, "So what if I did? You really expect me to act like one of you, doin' things with reason and purpose? C'mon. I liked the pictures on it."
He may think Suguru falls for it, but Suguru is nothing if not perceptive. Mahito flings his arms out too wide. Each stride is too long, each twirl around a slender beech too motivated – no, he sees it all. He's playing at carelessness when it couldn't be further from the truth.
Absurdly human of him, really.
Suguru hums, halting in his tracks. Mahito almost bumps into him. Again – too eager. Suguru lifts a hand, palm down and fingers splayed, and closes his eyes. Thrums of warm sorcery crackle through his veins – weak, barely trace amounts. Expected for thousand-year-old jujutsu. To be able to feel it still was a feat all in itself. Just how intense was the battle that raged here?
"We should be right in front of it," Suguru claims, dropping his hand and opening his eyes. They stand before a slight ridge of the earth, exposed tree roots weaving in and out of rich brown soil. A heavy blanket of moss hangs over the ridge and ivy grows beneath their feet. "Yet... I don't sense any spirits nearby."
"Hey," says Mahito suddenly. "The scroll mentioned a 'tomb'. You said in front of ya, yeah?"
Nodding, Suguru folds his hands within his robes. He watches as Mahito's arm lengthens into a massive cleaver, and he steps back at the wicked smile that spreads across his lips.
Mahito lifts his arm, pale eyes glinting dangerously. "Man, I so hope I'm right!"
With a slam that rumbles the ground beneath their feet and strips the nearby trees of their leaves, Mahito splits the earthen mound before him clean in two, leaving a shallow ravine that extends into the horizon. The soft earth parts like melted butter, soil and chipped wood exploding forth with such strength that Suguru narrowly avoids a pointed root that embeds itself into the trunk behind him.
When the dirt and leaves settle, they reveal the chiselled stone set into the earth. Split not quite perfectly in half – for Mahito loves chaos, and halves are better off-kilter – is a room carved into stone, hollowed out with a single podium erupting from the centre.
Upon the roughly-carved podium is a mid-sized box plastered with ancient seals and talismans. Peeking inside reveals that the inside of the 'room' is covered in the stuff, too – old, yellow, and faded, they flutter from wind they haven't felt in aeons. One peels off and comes to rest gently at Mahito's feet.
"Huh," he says eventually, staring at the cuttingly-familiar brushstrokes. He reaches for the wooden box, soft and rotted with age. The moment his fingers brush the surface, he pulls back with a jerk and makes a face. "Ouch! Spicy."
"Strong seals," Suguru comments, making no move to help. Mahito huffs and blasts the talismans away with a burst of cursed energy, testing the now-bare box with the tips of his fingers like one might with a freshly-microwaved plate.
He cracks the box open. Inside, innocent as a fresh lamb, lays a shallow, red-lacquered suzuri-bako.
"A... writing box?" Mahito murmurs to himself. He reaches in and takes the smooth box into his hands. It feels much heavier than it should, and an oppressive weight shudders through him, dark and cold and familiar. "Geto-san? It's a cage. I don't have the key."
"Let me take a look." Suguru stretches out a hand.
For a fleeting moment, Mahito hesitates – the slightest tilt of the box towards his chest. And Suguru knows.
With a growing smile, Suguru folds his hand back into his long sleeves. "Ah... I see. You know this spirit."
"I—" He pauses. "Maybe. Once upon a time."
"Interesting," says Suguru, "that something as old as this still has an effect on you."
"Nah – boring, actually. I'm old and sentimental." He pretends to wipe a tear from his eye. He chuckles and tosses his hair over his shoulder, tracing the edges of the box. Power tingles against his skin. "Pretty thing, for a cage. Maybe I could just – ease it open—"
Suguru raises his long sleeve to shield his face as the box pulses with a sudden, growling shockwave, forcing him to step back to keep his balance. The ferns sway around his knees.
Mahito clicks his tongue, a pout forming on his lips. "Damn it! This should be simple!"
The second attempt has the birds squawking and flying into the skies as the surrounding trees shudder violently. For the third, Suguru winces slightly as Mahito slams his fist – a giant mallet – against the box, resulting in another shockwave of barbed cursed energy. He lifts a hand, placating.
"Ah, Mahito... Perhaps I can give it a go?" he suggests. "It may need a... sorcerer's touch."
Mahito's eyes widen. Of course! Those ancient douche-canoes probably knew he would come for what was his. It only made sense to weave his name into the seals.
"By all means," he replies, stepping aside. "Take a gander."
Stepping forward, Suguru tugs his sleeve to his elbow and scoops up the box from the floor. He dusts off the cover. "Lovely craftsmanship," he muses and hovers his palm over it despite every nerve in his body writhing and begging to pull away. Some instinctual, ancient force warns him off it. He lets energy seep into the age-made cracks in the seals, and from within, gently burns away the net holding its prisoner still – like taking a lighter to the end of a frayed rope, creating spaces big enough to squeeze through.
The lid cracks open.
Like a floodgate opening, freezing shadows and smoke pour out of the gap, forcing the lid to clatter uselessly to the ground. Darkness bleeds down the walls. Suguru's eyes widen as his pale fingers, deep within the thick black smoke continuing to billow forth, begin to turn blue at the tips, visible frost surging over his skin. Smoke fills the air around them, fading out the sun until it could be a misty grey night. Rivers of shadow pool thickly around his knees until he can't see his feet, and he hurries to set the box on the podium.
As he lets go, a shadowy tendril curls around his exposed hand and arm, burning white frost into his skin. His breath hitches.
A freezing hand seizes his wrist. Inch-long black nails dig rivulets of blood – his red, all-too-human blood – out of him, and his heart plummets at the sight of the hand, wrapped completely around his forearm as if it's a thin piece of rope. On instinct, he yanks back, and the hand comes with.
Then, a flood of smoky shadow spews from the open box – and a cowled figure claws its way out, formed from the very shadows that plunged them into a sudden night. It rises and straightens, towering over them both.
Suguru's arm hurts. He clutches his wrist, his blood coagulating over the delicately-patterned frost, and chances a glance back at Mahito.
Arms spread wide and palms open, an unnervingly breathless smile plastered on his lips, Mahito gazes up at the wispy figure unblinkingly. Wide-eyed and panting softly, he laughs – bright and jubilant, victorious.
"Yes! Yes! There you are!"
He skips past Suguru, giggling madly as he takes one large, clawed hand in both his own. He presses the palm to his cheek as he hops in place, stretching up to reach for the round silver brooch pinning the cloak of shadows together over the shoulder. He hasn't seen his eyes in so long, and this stupid hood is in the way!
Mahito?
The voice comes from within Suguru's head. But, unlike Hanami's, this voice slithers among his own thoughts, slipping between them as light as a ghost. It could've been his own, for all he knew, except for the fact it carries a sorrow so profound it eclipses every other thought – he can focus on nothing else.
—
Everything is on fire. Everything is on fire and it is all because of you.
Of course, the fire was the easy part. One day, perhaps your beloved will forgive you for using such an overzealous amount of cursed energy to make your grand entrance. It completely overshadowed his own.
Everything would change here. It would be your end, or your beginning. Before you stand the most powerful sorcerers in the land, all gathered to rise against you one final time – or die trying.
All so tense. A sigh flutters through your lips as you brush a stray lock of hair out of your eyes. Mahito has influenced you too much – you are bare from shoulder-to-waist, oil-slick blood coating your arms up to the elbows, and facing the strongest adversaries you have ever met. Yet, all you can fret about is your poor hakama, now no more than a shred of memory. You donned your best silks for this, and the first thing the cruel little bugs did was burn it off you.
At the very least, your sashinuki may be salvageable.
"You are strong," a white-haired sorcerer calls above the roar of the flames towering into the sky. "Some call you divine and pray to you for aid, but you do not listen."
"I listen," you reply coolly, and slick back your hair with a blood-soaked palm. "I help them to lose the burden of their regrets and relieve their physical pains. I daresay I help more than you."
"They call you a healer, but what you do is not healing. Once, you numbed a man to his wounds until he fell to exhaustion fighting in your name. You are a spiteful creature. Desperation is your lure."
"If I hear it, I answer. If they think I am their saviour, who am I to disagree? It's a rather pretty title – though, it is amusing to be lord of maggots. I like to watch them squirm."
How did a curse of night, of the endless dark, grow so powerful? Every secret done in the dark, every lie and gnawing shame, was yours. There had always been something different about you, and they were fools to ignore it, even upon your first meeting:
You, tall and regal, kimono the darkest shade of navy blue damask, had been nothing like their other curses. You looked quite human. Perhaps there was something godly in your stride, something primordial in your voice, that cowed them all like children. You spoke to them, soft and paternal, and suddenly, each and every one of them was afraid of the dark and you were their only solace against the monsters beyond the window.
Enchantment, they'd called it, upon blinking awake and finding you gone. Perhaps it was your domain, to cull their thoughts until all that remained was the ancient instinct to fear the black night. Had you heard them discussing you, hands shaking and faces drained of blood, you would have laughed.
—
Suguru's eyes flicker, and the scene flips to a forest clearing.
—
"Mahito!"
The cry of his name is guttural, a thousand voices coalescing into a roar and a shriek. Across the battlefield, he falls, and you catch the flames reflecting in the shine of his widened eyes as he grasps the unfamiliar black blade piercing his chest. His soul writhes around it, pierced by it, unable to slip away unscathed as he has so many times before.
In that split second, your attention lapses, and black chains lash your body, slamming you to your knees. You snarl, straining against them.
"Surrender," the sorcerer before you orders, white hair stained red with blood. Despite his injuries and the loss of an entire arm, he stands tall and steady above you. "We will let him go if you choose to die."
"If I choose to die?" You run your thumb over your knuckles, regenerating three lost fingers. A rather good trade, you think, for taking off his arm in the process. "You'd allow a spirit, able to shape the soul into something inhuman and unrecognisable, to walk free in exchange for my life? My, my. I must be particularly disruptive to your little society."
"You're beaten." His voice is sharp despite his clear exhaustion. He struggles to restore his arm. "No matter how many of us you kill, you will lose first. Give up."
"Such misplaced confidence. 'Choose to die'..." You sneer and the black iron chains wrapped around you tighten, far colder than you are. You have warmed, somewhat, in Mahito's presence. You cannot be bitter about it when it is he who marks your soul. "Hah! Nothing stops you from killing him anyway – so, politely, I decline. There are only so many of you. You will run out of bodies before I do."
As you speak, your image flickers in an attempt to split your consciousness into the deep shadows around you. The chains chew into your skin and you hiss as your control dissipates like a candle blown out.
"Interesting," the sorcerer murmurs, gazing down at you pensively. The red flames swirl behind him. "Interesting that your bond with that curse truly did win us this fight. I admit – I was sceptical it would work. You're... not what I expected."
You turn your gaze to Mahito, crumpled on the ground with his long, straight hair creating a curtain over his features. He grasps the handle of the blade, trembling slightly, and his breaths are shallow and rapid as he attempts to pull it out. He can only whimper in pain – too quiet for anyone to hear. But this battle is a secret under darkness and belongs to you. You close your eyes to his furious cry and panicked breaths as the blade refuses to budge and saps more of his strength with every second.
Run, you implore, and his head shoots up, pale eyes meeting yours. Cursed energy surges beneath your skin, rippling and bubbling with bloodthirst. Run and don't look back. Mahito, you must survive at all costs. Do you understand?
The chains quiver and the links bend out of shape, their strange unearthly metal creaking. Your body strains against it, fingers elongating into claws and mouth growing jagged fangs. Your skin rips and flickers, bleeding dead galaxies. The chains bite into your shadowy flesh, but you grow larger despite it.
The sorcerer takes a step back.
Go, your voice rasps in his head, syllables rough and struggling in the monstrosity of your own body. Mahito's eyes widen as the chains groan, shuddering with effort – and snap.
He pulls himself to his feet, pale grey kimono tattered and stained. He grips the blade lodged in his chest and stumbles away, chasing the safety of the tree line.
You roar, twice as tall as the sorcerers around you, cutting them down with rapid, decisive blows. In his state, he doesn't notice the sorcerer turning in his direction.
But you do. With a shriek, you launch yourself at him, breaking through the ranks of sorcerers trying to stop you in a burst of viscera and bone. You seize the man giving chase after Mahito, and his whip-like technique is nothing against the overwhelming strength of your new form. One slash of your razor-sharp claws and his technique putters out in his limp hands.
Mahito spares you one last, desperate look, before turning and running into the darkness. You pull the shadows closed after him, deepening the shadows around him until you have him in your grasp.
Live, you say wistfully, releasing him from your shadows as far away as you can by a riverbank. He collapses and attempts to slip the blade out from between his ribs. He quivers with effort, and you don't turn back to the sorcerers picking themselves up for one last push. As long as none of them find Mahito, you will accept the consequences of your hedonistic actions. Live for me. Please.
You languish in your prison for one thousand years.
—
Mahito beams, nodding so hard his head threatens to fall off. "You remember me! I knew you would!"
Slowly, as if learning how to move one muscle at a time, the hand cupping his face brushes its knuckles down the edge of his cheek. When it reaches his chin, long fingers wrap around his throat as if to choke – then, they release. Using the first three fingers, the shadowy spirit grasps Mahito's face, turning it further up towards him. The top of Mahito's head only reaches the spirit's ribs – or where they would be on a human.
Mahito, the spirit calls joyfully, lifting its other hand to cup his face with a flourish of a long, wispy sleeve. Draped over him, the spirit's shadowy robes engulf him almost entirely. Oh, Mahito, my darling pale bone-shard...
He laughs, accepting everything with a smile that seems too ancient for someone like him. It's the smile of one who's known loss – not his usual grin of frivolous naivete.
"You look awful," Mahito says, with a little pout and a frown. "Come! I'll get you back to full strength. But I suppose that guy behind me will want introductions. No number of old scrolls or tomes would get him your name."
That name was never mine, the curse declares. Humans could never know me as you do. My strength is not theirs to invoke.
"Alrighty," Mahito says. He spins on his heel, hair bouncing, and points above him, where the spirit stands – floats – behind his shoulder. "Geto-san! This is YN! I knew him back in the day. He had a bit of a cult, too, so I think you'll get along splendidly."
That piques his interest. That white-haired sorcerer – probably a member of the Gojo clan, Suguru thinks with an achy little throb, if his paleness was a family trait – had mentioned something about your perceived divinity. He wonders why you'd pay attention to any of those ignorant monkeys.
"You're probably thinking about the whole cult thing, right?" Mahito comments offhandedly, tossing and catching the silver brooch he stole from you. Despite this, you haven't pulled down your hood. The straggly ends of the cloak hang by your arms.
"I won't say I didn't wonder."
"Don't worry, it's not a long story." He clears his throat importantly. "Back in the day, we didn't have curtains or anything to hide the results of our actions, so what we did must've seemed like magic or something paranormal to humans. My YN was often seen before and after destruction like plagues and floods, so word began to spread of a beautiful man who would save those he appeared to. Of course, this was survivorship bias. If he killed 'em, not like they could say that to anyone, right? So that's how people began to worship him."
"How fascinating," Suguru murmurs, eyeing you up. "Before, I saw your... memories. Was worship how you grew so much stronger than a normal curse?"
You finally look up, having been concentrating very hard on Mahito and his new appearance. His clothes are strange, but you're beginning to come around to them. Apologies. My body is not quite... complete. Some portion of me may have passed through you as I formed. You touch Mahito's hair, rubbing the strands between your fingers, and he giggles up at you. Perhaps you are right. Evolution was always within Mahito's portfolio, not mine. I should have been constant, unchanging, like the night. Odd, isn't it?
"The form you gained right before you were sealed away – do you still have it? Or was it a result of their belief?" If he could sway you to his side – gain your abilities – it might be enough. Just enough.
You consider his question. Human emotion is potent. I may no longer have shrines made with my image or prayers whispered in my name, but there are infinitely more humans now to draw from. I may gain it back – in time.
"Fascinating," Suguru repeats. He extends his uninjured hand with a kind smile. "Then please – allow me to be your host in this new era. I own a temple with a not-insignificant number of human visitors. It may help you recover."
You glance down at Mahito. He nods encouragingly. "He's not a bad guy to be around, I promise! A little uppity, but with the strength to back it up. You'd be with me. We'd be together again."
You pause, your large hand halting on top of Mahito's head, where you'd been petting him. He blinks up at your featureless face, and shadows waft from your shoulders – a sigh, or what passes for one with your inhuman anatomy. Very well, you relent, taking one of his ponytails and tugging lightly, I will follow. Be grateful that I bow to you.
"Oh, yes," Mahito giggles pleasantly, leaning into your stomach. He props his chin on your ribs, staring up at you with a grin. "Verily, my lord. When we arrive, I'll even show you how grateful I am."
You cup his face gently, squishing his cheeks. You run a thumb over the stitches below his eye. Dubious little creature... Lead on – we have much to talk about.
—
Recovery, you find, requires mostly time. The first thing you do when you regain sufficient strength is create a new body – one Mahito is familiar with, and which looks almost entirely human. For all your distaste, their physical anatomy is simple and useful, and you can spend less effort holding it together than most other shapes. Geto Suguru, as you come to know him, is incredibly interested in you and your capabilities, almost invasively so, and hates humanity quite a lot. You avoid him where you can.
You enter the room you were given by ducking under the lintel, one which Mahito now shares with you. Once you heard where he used to reside and what it was had been explained to you, you had been firmly insistent he come with you rather than you with him. Sewers, you claimed, were no place for the beloved of a god.
He is at the dresser in a grey kimono, which grabs your attention. He runs a brush through the pale blue-grey hair swept over his shoulder. He opens his eyes at the sound of the door sliding open, a smile automatically tugging at his lips.
"You're back," he says warmly. "What did Geto-san want this time?"
"He has trouble sleeping," you reply, taking a seat on the bed. It is odd, you thought once, that a traditional temple like this would incorporate such modern furniture, but Mahito seemed to like it, so you kept your mouth shut. "I drew him to slumber."
Mahito hums knowingly. "Humans, right? So messy. Him especially. Man, emotionally, that guy is a wreck – gets so worked up over nothing."
Politely, you ignore the invitation to complain. You may be a curse, but you have some dignity. "He freed me from a thousand years of imprisonment, Mahito. It's the least I can do to repay him."
He frowns. "I freed you."
"The seals prevented you from doing very much, Mahito," you say, amused. "If he wasn't there, you'd still be banging away at it. However, you did figure out where they kept me and kept me alive in your memories when no other did. I am grateful for that."
"If you were less judgemental of the other curses, I'm sure they woulda remembered you fondly," he rebuts. "You were too much of a lone wolf. 'Ooh, Sukuna's eating my worshippers 'cause I told him he's not cool! Kenjaku badgers me way too often about his dumb plans!' If you didn't complain about them to their faces, I'm sure they would've been happier to remember you."
You scoff. "Why should I care? I have you."
The tone of your voice warms what passes as his heart. He turns on the stool to face you, setting down the brush and picking up his hair ties. He begins to section his hair into three parts.
"I mean that much to you, do I? Little old me, more important than the favour of the great King of Curses," he coos, rising to his feet. He offers you a hair-tie with a soft smile, and you accept it. He crawls into your lap, sitting with his back to your chest. He hums as you comb your fingers through his hair, fumbling only slightly with the intricacies of a braid. It's been a long time since you've had hands.
"What does the King of Curses have that I care for? He is strong, but has many enemies. He is an arrogant, fickle creature and desires no equal, only slaves and followers." You adjust the thick locks of hair you've left loose to frame his face. He seems to like threes, so you'll keep it similar. "I like to do as I please. He is feared – I am fear."
You consider your next words. "He is also very rude."
Mahito barks out a laugh. "Careful. If he hears that, you'd be sliced up quicker than you can say 'oops'."
"You say he is now little more than a set of relicts. I wonder – if I kicked him around, would he know it and come later to kill me?"
Mahito presses a finger to his lips thoughtfully. "I don't think so. They don't seem to hold any sentience by themselves. Even curses empowered by the fingers don't look like they contain any part of 'him'."
"Interesting."
"Remind me to never let you carry his fingers."
"Of course." You tie off the end of the braid, sitting back to admire your handiwork. A human had come in with something similar, and you'd been too preoccupied with how it might look on Mahito to really care for what Geto was doing.
(You didn't care much for what any of them were doing, truthfully. Their idea for a world of curses was not quite uninhabited enough for you, as the god of the endless night and the perfect, empty void. It was only because of Mahito's unique technique that you let him live beyond your initial meeting, after all.)
"You kept your hair long," you say, voice a low murmur.
Mahito glances over his shoulder, gazing up at you through his messy bangs. A sly smile curls at his lips. "Oh, you know," he waves a hand carelessly, "you liked it better this way."
You prop your chin on top of Mahito's head. He grins. "You always wore it like this?"
"Well, I sat like a rock at the bottom of a river for a couple hundred years, so no, not always. But when I did like to have hair – yes, it was long."
You rest your hand around his throat, like a collar. Mahito smirks, dancing his fingers over your knuckles. "Hey, now... What's this doin', big guy? Careful – I'm half your size."
"You do not have to look like you do. I would adore you regardless."
"How cute! But it's no fun when we're both too big for the bed." He turns in your lap, straddling your thighs, and playfully plucks a thread loose from your haori. He cocks his head to meet your eyes with a smile when a brief scowl crosses your face. "C'mon, lighten up! You're out of the slammer! What better way to celebrate than with me? If you want, we don't have to do it on the bed. Maybe on the floor... Out in the forest... Drenched in human blood..."
"Mahito, Geto is across the hall. You are loud."
"He can plug his ears. I'm sure he's got a curse somewhere in him for that." His grin broadens freakishly. "I also want a curse inside me."
"Mahito," you growl, your grip tightening on his hips.
"Oh, say that again." He shows the whites of his eyes briefly with a teasing moan. He drapes his arms over your shoulders, wiggling around and settling comfortably in your lap. Your shoulders tense. "Such a bore. Hey – I'm better with my technique nowadays. Y'know how much fun we could have?" He leans in with a giggle, lips brushing your earlobe. "Gimme ideas. I'll make you feel so good."
Concentration was always the common denominator. He was once easily overwhelmed – he'd like to think he improved.
"I still tire quickly," you say, and not even you can obscure the annoyance in your voice. "Belief is so hard-won these days. I fear you'll have to be gentle with me."
He giggles, though his expression softens – or as much as it can for him; perhaps 'less-crazed' is a fairer term –and he drags his tongue hotly against your jaw. It's a kiss – his version of one.
"Okay," he sighs dramatically, kicking his legs childishly. "Hm... How about this? Tonight, shall I be your prince, princess, or," he winks, "your master?"
Your lips purse. "Gods do not have princes or princesses. 'Divine right'." You scoff. "Don't make me laugh."
"You'll always gimme your 'divine right', though, yeah?" He wiggles his brows cheekily. "Your sacred sceptre. Your god rod—"
"Mahito."
He sulks for only a moment before perking up again, tugging at your sashes and collar to open you up for his eyes only. He traces the marks on your skin with a hum.
"You and Sukuna have a lot in common, you know."
"He's a fool. I hope that's not what you mean."
He snorts. "Relax. I didn't mean it like that. I like you more, anyway."
"I'd certainly hope so." You flex your fingers, lifting one hand to measure against his waist. "I endured a thousand years of imprisonment for you."
"You're gonna bring that up constantly, aren't you?"
"Only when important. Do you know how small it was on the inside?"
He sighs. "I'm never winning an argument again."
"You've already won my heart."
"Your heart!" He laughs. "What a human thing to call it."
You lean back, allowing him to push your kimono off your shoulders. "Call it what you like. Be what you like. I've spent too long away from you to care for names and titles." You trace the stitches running across his hips. You lift your eyes, and Mahito's breath hitches at the hunger in them. They swirl with empty galaxies and dead stars, and he finds himself subconsciously leaning in, longing for that cold, dark and very gentle place. One day, at the end of all things, you will bring him there, lord of nothing and lord of everything. Perhaps he'll learn how to touch his soul to yours, like bubbles, and you'll never have to leave him again.
"Is this what you want?" he whispers as you strip him bare, his grey silk kimono pooling on the floor. "Me? Just me?"
"I have no need for anything else. Power, armies, what have you... Sukuna, Kenjaku, even this Geto – their plans are so short-sighted. Everything will come under my hand eventually. Until that day arrives, I am content with you."
"So romantic," Mahito murmurs, a coy smile pulling at his lips. "Can I also come under your hand? Pretty please?"
"Must you ruin everything I say with a filthy joke?"
He pushes you backwards onto the bed, hovering over you with a grin. He grinds down on your lap under the pretence of getting comfy and he relishes in your groan. "You just set them up so perfectly for me! How could I not?"
You click your tongue. "I indulge you too much."
"Not enough, I'd say. Took me way too long to get into your pants. Do you know how desperate I was at times? You expected me to see you doused in human viscera and not want you all up in my guts, too... Ridiculous, in my humble opinion."
"Sex is such a human notion."
"You say it like it's a bad thing," he whines. "I have to say, it's pretty fun. You like it, too, don't you?"
"Hm."
"C'mon, we're both here because of humans. We aren't, like, appropriating anything." He reaches down, palming the bulge below your kimono. His grin widens. "If you don't like it, why did you give yourself the parts for it? Ha! Checkmate."
He yelps as you grab him and toss him down onto the bed, pinning him under your weight. He stares up at you with wide, innocent eyes, his loosened kimono gaping at the chest and stomach.
You rake your eyes down his lithe, pale body, humming when his breath hitches at your touch. You glide your hand down his side, tracing the smooth curve of his waist and hip.
You reach down by his hips and part his kimono further. When the silk falls open, you are greeted by a neat patch of grey hair – and glistening pink folds.
He giggles at your expression. He twirls his hair around a finger and bats his lashes, which might be thicker and longer than usual. "Now we match."
Clicking your tongue, you curl your fingers around his slender thigh and part his legs, eyeing him unblinkingly. He's not sure if he should be aroused or offended – you're hard to read and he's never sure what you like. Perhaps that's part of why he stayed – you were like a game – but now, a thousand years later, he can't help but feel... unsure? Nervous?
Afraid?
He wants to laugh at the concept. Him? Afraid of your opinion of him? How disgustingly fragile.
You're talking now, and the sound of it snaps him out of his spiralling thoughts. You've always had that effect on him.
"I'm not sure how we match at all, Mahito," you're saying. "As spirits, we are incapable of siring spawn. I would say we match less."
He whines. "Hey...! I put all this work into looking nice for you, and you're telling me now that you don't like it? Besides, who're you to say we can't have some little curse babies, asshole? There's never been another me – maybe I'm the exception. Maybe I'm better than the rest of 'em."
At last, you lift your eyes. Mahito wants to curl up beneath your gaze – you are terrifying and comforting all at once. "No," you say softly. "You are one of a kind."
A smile splits his face, cocky, and he sits up, leaning back on his palms. His kimono slips teasingly from his shoulder. "Mmhm, that's right... Boy, you sure know how to make a guy feel special."
You tilt your head, considering something. You stroke his thigh, absent-minded, and he presses into your touch. "You don't know for certain – about spawn."
"Obviously not. I was sitting among the rocks of the Shinano River for, like, eight hundred years. You want me to fuck a fish?"
"Why?" You lift a hand as he opens his mouth to snark at you. "About the river, Mahito. Not the fish."
He frowns, his lower lip jutting out slightly. "You told me to survive! I did just that. I'm not sure why you sound so disappointed."
"You, resting in the same place for hundreds of years? Wouldn't you have grown bored? I'm sure it did not take that long to heal from your wounds."
He huffs, crossing his arms. He tugs his leg out of your grasp. His hair falls over his features. "You were dead, for all I knew! When I didn't know much about anything, you were there to teach me. For the first time ever, you were gone, and if they'd managed to kill you, what would they do to me?" He flicks a wrist, sleeve whipping your side. "You told me to live. To survive. So I did, okay? After all, it was the last thing you ever said to me. I had nothing else left of you."
The air is heavy. Neither of you moves a muscle.
"Mahito," you say softly.
He throws himself backwards onto the bed with a bounce and a soft thump, hands over his eyes. He tries to kick you, but you catch his ankle. He scowls. "Stupid. Asshole. Jerkface. Don't say my name like that."
"Mahito."
He gulps as you close the distance between you, your palm pressed to the mattress beside his head. His breath hitches as your hand glides from his ankle to his calf, holding it over your shoulder. You don't quite pin it there, but you leave your palm open, steady against the outside of his knee as it presses against you.
"You've grown soft," you observe.
He crosses his arms and tries to glare. It's a little hard when you're kneeling between his legs, your lips six inches from his own. Do you still taste the same? "No, I haven't. You just knew me before I lost everything."
"Let me return this to you, then." You part his kimono fully, the silk pooling on the bed. You reach for your own clothes, though your eyes remain trained on his. They remind him of a fox, quick and clever and sly. "Can I make it up to you, Mahito?"
He sniffs, glancing aside. His arms uncross. "Fine."
"Thank you."
You're so stupid. And polite. Ugh.
Your fingers travel down between his thighs. His throat bobs as you slide your middle finger between his wet folds, coating it in his slick. He shifts as you thrust it in gently, exploring him. Your warm palm cups him, something possessive in your touch, and as he relaxes around you, you slip a second finger in.
He gasps sharply, his hands shooting up to wrap around your biceps. You halt, buried in to the knuckle. It's hard not to be – his walls pulse around you, sucking you in.
"Am I hurting you?"
He shakes his head. He offers a brief, breathless grin. "Nah. Just feels different. Good different. Keep going."
You nod, sitting back on your heels to watch the way his cunt flutters around you. You stroke the leg thrown over your shoulder, kissing the ankle, and Mahito lets out a muffled mewl as your thumb presses against his clit.
"Sensitive," you murmur to yourself. You glance up. "Have you done this before?"
He licks his lips, steadying his voice. "What, changing myself like this?"
"Yes. For your own pleasure, rather than for battle."
"No," he admits, legs tightening around you. "This is the first time."
Humming, you glance up at him, allowing a smile to grace your features. "Then we can explore it together."
You pull your fingers from him – and with a thoughtful look, you place them in your mouth. Mahito's breath hitches as you swirl your tongue around your fingers, relishing in the taste.
"Sweet," you declare, and place his leg gently down on the bed. You settle at the base of the bed and tug him down by the thighs, staring up at him with playful eyes. "You wouldn't mind if I had a taste from the source, would you?"
He shakes his head, and it tips back with a moan as you bury your head between his thighs. You lap at his soft pink folds, and as you push your tongue inside, he slickens up, walls hot and pulsing around you. He squelches as you push in deeper, slick dripping from his eager hole. He grips your hair with both hands, moaning in delight as you fuck your long tongue in and out of him, curling roughly against the spot inside him that makes his head spin.
"Awh, fuck," he whines, laughing breathily as his spine arches and hot pleasure laps at the base of his spine. "F-Feels even better than I thought it would—! Ah, hah, gimme more!"
You draw your tongue out of him, making him whine and pull your face further into his fluttering cunt. You suck at his clit, lifting a hand to raise the hood of it as your tongue circles and your teeth graze it – he jolts in surprise, hands tightening in your hair.
"Patience," you purr, tongue laving over his reddened clit. You push it inside him, wriggling about experimentally as his throbbing walls stroke the length of it, hungry and devouring.
"I already waited a thousand years!" he says, almost angrily. His heels dig into your shoulders as he lifts his hips, chasing a high. Your tongue is so long – it massages that rough patch of nerves at the back of his cunt and he seizes, crying your name as you grip his hips and lift him to your lips.
He takes what he wants rather inconsiderately, slick dripping down your chin as you kiss his hot folds. He's practically humping your face, grinding against your mouth and the tongue sinfully deep inside of him. You groan as his moans pitch higher, whorish, and he begins to tremble around you.
So quickly? You're amused. He's missed you more than he's willing to let on.
You fuck him with your tongue, saliva and slick mixing on his fair skin, and he's positively dripping, every thrust squelching and pushing out a sweet gush of pleasure into your waiting mouth. You swallow it blissfully, your thumb circling the wet nub of his clit.
With a wobbly, high-pitched cry, he shoves your face into his gummy cunt and comes on your waiting, writhing tongue, thighs seizing around your head and locking you in place as he coats your chin in his hot, sticky slick.
With your tongue buried deep inside him, flicking about and pressing curiously against his soft walls, he lets out a shaky whine, grinding against you with rough rolls of his hips. It's not an unfamiliar motion. He takes you so prettily, soft smooth folds now dark with lust.
Shakily, Mahito releases you, body sagging into the mattress. He pants and gasps, the tense heat between his legs unbearably achy and needy. He wants to melt.
"S-So… good," he sighs, a broad grin crossing his face. You lap at him lazily, and he twitches. "Mm… Now gimme your cock, 'kay? Nice 'n' deep. Promise me."
"Promise what?" you ask, licking your lips and wiping away his come. Your eyes glint with satisfaction as you set down his unsteady legs and crawl between them, the bulge in your trousers straining in its confines.
"That you'll fuck me up," he whines, turning onto his stomach and lifting his perky ass. He gazes over his shoulder at you, wiggling his hips and spreading his knees further to show off his tight holes. "You can have either one – jus' want you in me, okay? I miss having a big cock in my belly, miss being fucked and filled up until 'm all swollen and can't move." He pouts, his eyes half-lidded, and presses his ass against your bulge, grinding lazily. "C'mon, big guy. Don't you wanna put your baby in me?"
His eyes shoot wide open and his jaw drops as a thick, throbbing intrusion splits his pussy apart. He can't help his eager moans as you set a steady pace, his loosened pussy sucking you in with ease. He scrabbles at the sheets as your grip tightens on his waist and drags him down to match every thrust – he grabs the headboard as your cock kisses his cervix, making his eyes roll back.
"Oh! Y-You're cold – big – so muh – much," he cries brokenly, pressing his palm against his stomach. He shudders at the icy temperature of you inside him, making his hot walls ache and throb with such need that it borders on pain.
On every harsh thrust, he feels you glide against his palm, filling him up so completely that he can barely breathe – that feeling, of every breath physically restricted, makes his eyelids flutter and his pussy clench and flutter. His wet warmth surges down your thighs with his high, and you groan as he jolts and whines.
"You can handle it, Mahito," you note with a soft hum. Your touch grazes his clit and his breath stutters. "You have before, haven't you?"
"I-I'm rusty," he tries to joke, but it comes out flimsy as you shift and he clamps down punishingly around your cock with a moan. "Oh, fuck!"
Your hips snap into him and he fumbles slightly, grabbing one of your hands on his hip. He slumps into the mattress, lifting his hips as you fuck into his swollen heat, slick and soft around you. Little chained moans fall from his lips as he twists the sheets in his fist; his body jolts back and forth with your thrusts, his long blue-grey braid bouncing over his shoulder.
"Feels so g-good," he slurs, legs shaking like leaves. He spreads them, reaching down to split his sticky pussy lips with the V of his fingers. His lower lip quivers as he gazes at you over his shoulder. His bangs are a mess over his lust-blown eyes. "More – more, more, I want more—! Make me yours again, ah, right there—"
"Quiet now," you murmur amongst his choppy moans. "Geto will hear you."
"Wh-Whose fault is that?" he whines, the expression on his face fucked out and deeply flushed. "H-Hah – bet he'd be jealous, anyway! He wants you but you're all mine! Mh—"
You chuckle softly, leaning over him with a palm braced by his head. He feels small like this – protected. He whines into the bedsheets, his pussy dripping down his inner thighs.
"Mahito," you say, almost admonishingly. "Are you jealous?"
"Of that – ah – human? No!"
You trail your lips up his shoulder and neck, nipping at his ear. "Mm, of course. But I do think it would be prudent to watch him carefully. That technique of his may prove... troublesome."
Mahito sniffles, come-slick walls clamping around you and making you grunt. "S-Stop talking about him."
"So you are jealous."
"I just don't like it when you talk about other people when you're inside me." He attempts a glare, but his ruined expression quivers when your cock kisses his womb, tears welling up along his lashes and sticking them together. "Th-That's a normal, hn, r-reaction."
"Would you like me to talk about you, then?"
He averts his eyes and nods, tiny, into the sheets. You press your lips to the stitches trailing over his shoulders, admiring the contrast between the dark lines and Mahito's pale skin. You pick up the pace, thighs clapping against his ass, and his moans grow louder, more desperate, as his pussy flutters dangerously around you.
"My Mahito is so sweet to me, greeting me with this little piece of heaven here," you purr with a particularly teasing thrust into his cunt, nuzzling into his hair as he grips your forearms for stability. He nods reverently, lips parting and eyes rolling as you shift your hips and fuck him quick and hard into the mattress. His toes curl as he cries out, every thrust knocking a whiny moan from his throat. "My Mahito did so well, listening to me all that time ago... You're so good at obeying me, aren't you?"
"M-Mmhm," he whimpers. "Yes! Yes, I did, I always listen to you, oh, god—"
"Ah-ah-ah... You've been spending far too much time around humans, Mahito." You kiss his neck, and he shudders, your cock filling his belly until he can think of nothing else. He whines as you stroke his side, fingers fluttering over his stomach.
"I am your god," you murmur. "I taught you. I saved you. Perhaps I can even..." You press the smooth bump in his stomach and he lets out a ruined noise, muscles tensing. "Gods create, don't they?"
A choked, whorish wail rips past his lips. The glide comes easy – hotter, wetter. Waves of heat pulse through his core. His hole squelches as a thick ring of white forms around your base.
"Mahito." You tug his braid sharply and he whimpers as his head jerks back. "If you cry out to a god, it will be my name on your lips. You are mine. I won't tolerate anything less than your total loyalty. Do you understand?"
He babbles, whimpered half-words slipping from his lips. He nods to the best of his ability with your grip on his braid, arousal curling hot and powerful in his gut at the growl in your voice. "Yes!" he cries, his ass ricocheting off your hips. The rough pace makes his knees knock together. "Yes, yes, I'm your bitch, 'm sorry – you're my god – hnn, f-fuck, don't stop—!"
"Good, Mahito. Always so obedient for me."
Perhaps he reshapes himself because suddenly he's vice-tight, throbbing around you with a gooey slickness that tugs pink around your shaft when you try to draw your hips back. You suck in a sharp breath.
"Mahito," you coo, stroking his stitched cheek, and he whimpers, tears clouding his vision. "Let me go, dear. I can't give you what you want if I can't move."
"I don't want you to leave again," he sobs, curling his fingers through yours. He can't think straight.
If – if he gave you a child, an heir... you wouldn't leave him, right? You couldn't. You liked him for his uniqueness – he wasn't like any other curse you'd ever met. You told him so. With the return of the Six Eyes, each day brings forth more powerful spirits, and you are like Ryomen Sukuna, whatever you say. You, too, are fickle, and you are cold as the night over which you reign. If some other curse – or, fuck him, a human – catches your attention, it's not impossible you might drop him for them.
After all, you're so much older than him. What is he but an indulgent curiosity?
As his thoughts spiral away from him, his body reacts to you – his glossy, silken pussy hugs your twitching cock, and the smell of sex lingers heavy in the air. "Oh god, oh god," he whimpers sweetly, brainless and drooling and pierced on thick cock, "oh, god—"
"Yes," you hiss. "You belong to me." You bury your nose in his hair, skin slapping rhythmically and rocking the bed. You bury yourself in his sloppy cunt over and over again, wrapped so perfectly around you. With a low growl that has Mahito's pussy throbbing, ropes of thick come paint his insides, filling him up and dripping from his hot, slippery folds.
He arches into your cold, firm embrace with a frenzied wail of your name, a sound wrecked with pleasure and pent-up desire. He trembles as he creams around you, milking your cock with a hungry desperation, and the pale curls over his pussy are damp with a filthy mixture of slick and come. He throws his head back. His tongue lolls out of his mouth and his eyes roll back at the feeling of your seed spurting deep within him, his insides so much more sensitive.
Or maybe he's just missed you. Either way, his throat feels raw, and the shattered whimpers that crumble from his lips as he collapses into the bedsheets are all he can manage, his pale eyes half-lidded and fluttering as you continue to pump him full. You stroke his stomach as if he's something sacred and murmur sweet nothings into his ear as he twitches in your arms.
He mewls, panting, as you eventually pull out, his gaping pussy clenching around nothing as your seed dribbles down his thigh. Without your grip on his hips to keep him up, he crumples to the bed in a dazed, soiled heap. His cunt squelches when he moves and he licks his lips, trembling slightly as he raises his head to look at you.
You're beside him now, gazing back with those beautiful eyes of yours. If he stares into them long enough, deep enough, he might catch a glimpse of clashing black holes and dying stars.
That battle an age ago left you with something inescapable. Things used to be easier – you were of the night, and the night was simple with the whisper of something shadowy within the dark. Now you have sparks of something hotter within you. Evolution, change, all of it – Mahito had more of an effect on you than anyone could've guessed.
He presses himself into your side and you wrap his lean body in your embrace. You stroke his hair with a soft hum, combing your fingers through his bangs and tucking them behind his ear.
At last, he speaks up, head resting upon your chest. "I got all dolled up for you," he says quietly. "You made a mess of me. Ruined my hard work."
You kiss his forehead. "Is that not what you wanted?"
"Hey... Don't twist my words."
"I'm sorry."
Silently, he leans up and nips at your jawline, soothing the spot with a kitten lick. He settles back down and you trace the stitches crossing his body, making him hum as you reach the ones following the V of his hips.
"I won't leave you, Mahito. Not again."
He glances up, a fist curling gently on your chest. "Really?"
You nod, staring at the ceiling. He fits perfectly into your side and you clutch him there, protective and possessive in the way he adores. "Yes."
He stares up at you, an unreadable look in his eyes. The corner of his mouth twitches.
"Okay," he says, and closes his eyes with a secret little smile.
Kissing You (JJK Men)
JJK men and where they like to kiss you
Feat. Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Toji, Shiu, Sukuna, Choso, Mahito Tags/Warnings: GN!Reader, no y/n used, sex mentions but nothing explicit, just some kisses with the men no real warnings or tags Word Count: 102 / 97 / 108 / 97 / 103 / 87 / 102 / 120
AO3 | Fic Masterlist | Req Rules | Trades | Community | WIPs
Take a look at my winter requests event
Gojo has to kiss all over your face at least every half hour or he says he'll perish instantaneously. He doesn't seem to do this when he takes week long trips abroad for missions so you take it with a grain of salt. But when he does get his lips on you, no inch of skin will be left untouched, and it never ceases to make your face hot with both shy enjoyment and sheer humilition at his ridiculousness. He doesn’t care where you are, it won’t stop him from making sure you know how much he loves you, with his lips.
Geto he likes a classic, a kiss on the cheek. Conveys his affection for you with ease, appropriate in company, the girls don't complain and he can whisper filthy things in your ear. It’s simple, and it’s mature like the both of you are. On those days where he’s struggling most, he’ll hold your face like you’re his final lifeline, and press a kiss to your cheek, entire body trembling, a silent plea to hold him in return. You always will. His lips are warm against your skin regardless, a reminder that you’re both here and alive.
Nanami is a lover of a temple kiss. Not quite forehead, because he claims it takes more focus. He can press a quick kiss to your temple in passing without even thinking, and it’s appropriate regardless of the setting you find yourselves in. He’s not the jealous type perse, but he does like having an appropriate and adult way to send a silent message to those around you that you are wholly spoken for. He can also use that closeness to softly tell you something he doesn’t want others to hear, useful if he wants to say something dirty or warn you of the presence of a curse.
Toji loves neck kisses. Likes how he can appear behind you and catch you off guard with it before you melt back into him. The way you always reach to grab him when he does it like you're worried you'll melt to the ground (as if he'd let that happen). Whether you’re in private or not doesn’t dictate how filthy he’ll be with it, his own whims are the only thing that can determine that part. He appreciates the ease it grants him to be able to leave marks on you too, because he’s a possessive bastard.
Shiu likes to kiss your shoulders. Leaning down just to tuck his head against your neck, resting his head on your shoulder with a big sigh and pressing a kiss there as he goes. He’s fond of just resting his head on you in general, when he’s tired or when he missed you or just because you’re there and he likes to be touching you, and any kisses are just a bonus even if he isn’t the one recieving them. He’s also a back and shoulders man so of course he wants to worship his favourite part of your body, even in company.
Sukuna likes kissing the inside of your wrist. More intimate than kissing your knuckles but with a similar sentiment. Likes feeling your quickening pulse under his lips, and being able to then flick his eyes up to meet yours and watch them dilate, caught between pleasure and fear. He’s addicted to that look you get when caught between the two feelings. He does this in particular circumstances, and he’s particularly fond if it if he’s taken you into his innate domain, with him sitting atop his throne.
Choso? It's your lips or it's nothing. If you try to kiss him somewhere else he'll pout and whine until you kiss him properly. Nothing else is worth it, as far as he’s concerned. He loves you so deeply, so profoundly, why would he want anything less than the real deal? The main event? Unless, of course, one of you is kissing somewhere.. less appropriate. He doesn’t care what company you’re in or who might see, he’s going to whine and complain until you give him a proper kiss, uncaring for the looks he gets for it. He deserves a proper kiss.
Mahito likes nose kisses. He's a little different like that. It's different and it's sweet and it's yours. He doesn't care when the others scoff or roll their eyes. He’ll skip up to you and stand there expectantly, blinking up at you as if he’s innocent of all crimes he’s committed, waiting for you to give him what he wants without ever saying a word. You always know what it is he wants, of course you do, and so you’re powerless to do anything other than give it to him. He’s a brat above all else, but you’re weak for him too, and when he’s looking at you so prettily you just have to give him the kiss he wants.
Tag List: @claryeverlarkf @uselessboots @cainnoable @hyperfixationthingss @queenmimi2817 @fanaticsnail @villainousace
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Bloom
Masterlist Here
Word Count: 1,600+
Synopsis: A rare afternoon where autumn slowly shifted to winter had a vulnerability shared between you and the cursed spirit you had come to love. You knew Hanami cared for you; you just didn't know the extent of how much they truly did until the rarity held more surprises than you ever thought possible.
Themes: Hanami x gn!reader, she/they used for Hanami interchangedly, no pronouns used for reader, established friendship bordering on love, love confession, adoration, gentleness, fluff, minor allusions self-harm (pruning), plant-centric nicknames used for both Hanami and reader.
Notes: Hanami is one of my favourite JJK characters. I just find their strong design and the fact they're so, incredibly soft spoken just really, insanely beautiful. I hope you enjoy reading!
The sun beamed through the skyline and between each of the remaining leaves on the autumn branches. Every whisper of wind held that bite of winter echoing the promised cold from the sea, whipping against your skin and forcing your eyes to water. Despite the chill, the warmth from the lap you were resting your head against took the pain from every cruel lashing made by winter.
Hanami's hands were busy, that much was noticed. You couldn't care less while you used their lap as your resting place in the small patch of green in the garden area of the high-rise's rooftop. You were comfortable. More comfortable than you had been since joining the man masquerading as your old classmate, Suguru Geto. Now within this cultish menagerie of cursed users, cursed spirits, and trained sorcerers; you had never truly felt the peace that you yearned for until Hanami opened themselves up to your kindness.
Hanami was guarded, her heart closed and exterior more icy than the breeze prickling your arms and frosting your fingertips. But past those borders, she was everything you could ever wanted in a partner. Despite your sorcerer training, every ounce of your body refused to harm a single follicle on her body: including the need to exorcize her.
"You are uncomfortable," Hanami's voice called to you without her lips moving. Your eyes fluttered open, gazing up at her with a doe-ish concern. Hanami's branches trembled in the wind, their chin angling in a way to ensure you had their full attention, focussing on your smaller frame with their body.
"Oh? I-I'm happy to move-," you began, assuming they were referrnig to your head on their thigh. As you moved away from her body, she placed her remaining arm on your collar and gently coaxed you back down to rest against her.
"-No," they whispered, "I was suggesting you were feeling uncomfortable." Their thumb traced gentle circles into your skin to ease you into sharing their warmth again. "Your eyes were watering, your brow was forming a deep frown, and your body was beginning to tremble. You were not making me uncomfortable, you, yourself, are uncomfortable."
"Oh," you utter sheepishly. A small, bashful smile resumed up your cheeks while you eased back into your comfortable position. They were leaning against the wall; the sun was slowly streaking threads of gold across their face and upper body. Every moment you spend gazing up at Hanami from your position on their lap, the longer you felt that swell in your heart and choke in your throat.
"Is it the cold that's making you uncomfortable?" Hanami tilted their head and slowly moved their hand from your collar to your heart, "The first sound of winter is whispering in the leaves. Let... If... Allow me..." Her hand left your body and moved to the cloth shielding her shoulder. Giving the material a gentle tug, she removed it and draped it over your belly and thighs, "Does this aid in taking the chill from you?"
The gentleness of their words took your breath away, causing you to slowly reach up and caress the shoulder bud revealed to you. Every part of Hanami intrigued you: from her branches to her skin, her flowers to her muscles. They were art to you. The perfect combination of innocence and protector wrapped in vines and branches.
"Yes, thank you, Hanami," you whispered softly while relaxing into the warmth of her cloth, "And I know we need winter before the spring. It's just part and parcel of how the world works. Every wrap around the sun goes the same way. It just gets cold all the way up here, that's all." You felt the chill slowly leave you and your body completely relaxed, "I am happy to wait for the warmth again when it comes."
"You are very patient," they hummed down at you with amusement, "If... If you stay very still, I can attempt…" Their pale hand moved to cover your eyes, aiding your lids to close in comfort, "…To show you a sign of things to come. But you must promise me you will not open your eyes. Can you do that, little sorcerer?"
"Can I trust you not to hurt me?" you asked them. Despite fully giving yourself over to their whims, humouring them with your complete surrender, you still wanted to ensure you knew where you stood. Hanami took a moment to think, pondering their response and gently stroking their thumbs over your eyes. In the silence, their answer slowly breathed promises down to you.
"I would never hurt you," their voice smiled to you, "And your trust will also be safeguarded while I sit here alongside you." With her reassurance, you kept your eyes closed, "Or, beneath you, rather... Currently both beneath and above you." That prompted a low, hum-like chuckle from your throat - a sentiment echoed with their own accompaniment. Your senses pricked and vibrated while you felt the softest motions from above you.
Temptation brewed in your chest the longer you heard rustles and flutters from above. You could've sworn you heard her gasp or groan in mild pain, but that could just be the leaves rustling and falling from the tree beside you on the roof of the high-rise. A few moments of silence passed between you while you waited patiently for her voice to warm your heart once more.
Slowly, simply, and as quiet as she was the first time you met her: you felt something soft lay itself across your forehead and glide like silk on your skin. Your eyes darted behind your eyelids as your brow furrowed in concentration, your mind racing with the possibilities of what exactly they were doing to you.
"I chose the moniker, 'Hanami', for a reason," they hummed sweetly down at you, "Do you know what it means?"
"I assumed it meant 'cherry tree' or 'flower viewing', my garden," you hummed to match her tone, still with your eyes closed, "Am I close?" Her voice reverberated with a chuckle deep in her diaphragm, which sounded closer to a giggle than anything else.
"It is specifically in reference to blossom viewing, and my appreciation and love for the first bloom of spring," they clarified, "You may open your eyes now... Please." Their soft plea was accompanied by a gentle tap on your cheek, prompting you to open your eyes with haste. You could barely see the pink and white petals gracing your forehead, opting instead to narrow in on the several flowers blooming on Hanami's eye branches.
"…Hanami…"
"Of all of the blossoms I could ever produce or grow within the manipulation of my domain," Hanami cooed down at you, her lips still unmoving while her voice was spreading, "You are more beautiful... The most beautiful... Of all, my flower."
The pink and white buds slowly shook to life on her branches, mirroring the crown she donned on your brow. The warmth of the promise of spring echoed in her motions, her flowers melting away from the branches with the next wind to blow them away. Despite her flowers leaving her head, the ones she placed on yours remained firmly on your forehead, crowning you with their presence and marking you as theirs.
"You grew these? For me?" you asked bashfully, letting emotion settle into your waterline and swell over your cheeks. Her thumbs moved to swipe them from you, hushing you with their honeyed words.
"I bloomed them for you. Mostly in gratitude for your patience not only generally, but your patience and kindness for me. I feel… Seen… When I am with you," they clarified before curling their torso inwards. Their branches kissed your head, their forehead barely pressing against your own while they held you so tenderly, "When we pass through the winter and into the spring, I want nothing more than to view the bloom of every blossom, all with the most beautiful one's hand holding my own." You couldn't help but close your eyes and lean into their touch.
Hanami had no lips to kiss with. Their shape and form held no growth for such a dismissive muscle. They supposed the formulation of their spirit saw no purpose in producing them, not believing they could ever love something enough to have the need to kiss.
While they held you in this moment, feeling your body close like this, touching like this; all they could think about was the knowledge that this was as close to kissing you intentionally as they ever could.
Crowning you in themselves, marking you as theirs, and holding your head within their branches while avoiding the bite of winter: Hanami carved every second of this into their memory. Finally pulling away, you held the space to look into their branches with every ounce of love within your heart. Hanami did the same in her own way, tilting her head to the side in a way to see more of you.
"Thank you, my garden," you smiled, "I look forward to sharing your spring with you after the winter."
"And I you, my little flower," they smiled in return, "More than anything, I want only to share in that moment with you. Do you..." Hanami moved a little more to slide you more comfortably on their lap, "...Wish to remain up here for much longer, or would you prefer we leave the chill and retire indoors?"
The wind moved with that same bite earlier, yet the whips felt like strokes of a brush on a delicate canvas than the harsh clash you felt earlier. Despite it all, you and Hanami remained in sharing that warmth and gentleness wrapped in linen and delicate words. You pondered her words and grew a slow crawl of an equally warm smile across your lips.
"Just... Just wait a while longer, if that's okay. Just for a little while. Then we can go inside."
"I will learn to be as patient as you while we sit in the chill, my little flower. Just... For you."
Thank you for reading! If you enjoy this, please check out my masterlist for other JJK fics, my monsterlist pinned at @sultrysnail for original content, or my one piece masterlist pinned at @fanaticsnail.
We're sending kisses? Oh my goodness well first of all the biggest kiss for my beautiful friend @heavenlysnail
I'm getting cactus kisses?
♡˖ ࣪ ㆍ ꒰ 𝓑𝗈𝗎𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗍𝗌 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗃𝗃𝗄 ꒱
˖ ࣪꒰ 🌷 ꒱ ˙˖ an initiative aimed to encourage support for jjk creators
˖ ࣪꒰ 🌷 ꒱ ˙˖ send in an ask, anonymous or not, with a special message for your favourite jjk creator, & I'll attach a special bouquet for them ! please make sure to mention the blog in your ask
˖ ࣪꒰ 🌷 ꒱ ˙˖ keep the positivity train rolling & let's bring some joy back into this fandom <3
— brought to you by @sweethearticism
When you do it right
Masterlist Here, Mahito Masterlist Here
Synopsis: Mahito just can't eat in the way you need him to. So, with little to no convincing, you get him to grow his own so you can show him how it's done.
Word count: 3,000+
Warnings: Mahito x afab!gn!reader, mdni, 18+, NSFW, smut, crying, cumming, multiple orgasms, porn with barely any plot, established relationship, mahito grows a vagina, oral sex, finger fucking, grinding, cumming until unconsciousness.
Notes: I am unapologetically a Mahito simp. I cannot get over how much fun he is, and how well written of a villain he is. This is my first Mahito fic. I hope you enjoy!
Mahito was good at a lot of different things. He was a good listener who asked active questions, he was a keen fighter quick to action, he was good for a laugh and to do just about anything to make you smile, and he was amazing at following orders.
He was just not good at giving head.
Mahito was a kid in a candy shop with an unlimited budget when it came to eating you out. He was all over the place, trying so many things to see what he liked without once attempting to find rhyme or rhythm. He would lick and suck at your body in places that were uncomfortable, latching to your outer walls and swiping along your crotch, instead of giving your clit or slit attention. And when he finally did give it attention, you were already too worked up and frustrated to enjoy any action he gave you.
“Mahito,” you growled at him, prompting him to pop his head back up from between your legs and tilt his head expectantly to the side. You let out a disgruntled sigh while his hands gripped at your thighs and rubbed soothing circles into your skin. “You’re doing that thing again.”
“What thing?” he cooed sweetly at you, “I thought I was doing good! I had my tongue out, I didn’t make it into a snake like I did the first time!” You cringed at the memory and allowed the shudder to coast up your spine while you glared at him, “I didn’t do that quick rubbing back and forth thing over and over again! I’m doing my best, scouts’ honor!”
“You’ve never been a ‘scout’, honey,” you chuckled down at him. Moving to lean up on your elbows, you fully drag your core away from him and reach down to cup his face, “I didn’t want it to come to this, but I don’t think you’ve given me any other-.”
“-Don’t ask someone else to do it!” He was quick to raise his hands defensively and shake them in front of you, “I’m still learning. I can do it, I swear. I swear…” His hands made a grabby motion to move towards you, prompting you to sigh and swat them back. Despite your disgruntled expression, you couldn’t fight the crawling smile to find its way onto your lips at his mild panic.
“I wouldn’t do that to you,” you moved from your recline to fully sit up and cup his cheek in your hand, “What I was suggesting was you change from… that…” you nod your head towards his crotch, “...And into something like mine, purely so I can teach you what it feels like when you do what you’re doing, and what it feels like when you do it right.”
The cursed spirit pouted and leaned his head into your hand while avoiding your eyes. He remained silent until the spark of enthusiasm returned to him. He was quick to move up and straddle your waist, pressing his clothed crotch down on your bare belly.
“You think I can make a really pretty one?” he asked sweetly, “Are we gonna watch porn together to see what kind of pussy would look good on me? What if I make it really hairy? Like a big bush?! And maybe have the inner walls come out and have a massive clit, and maybe make it like a venus fly-trap that like chomps back, or maybe it’s got teeth on the outside and could-.”
“-Mahito!” you laughed at him and reached for his black shirt and slowly peeled it off his creamy torso, thumbing over his stitching until the cloth fled his head, “If you like it, we can try that later. For now, you’re going to grow one relatively easy for me to show you how to eat me out properly. Okay?”
Mahito hummed down at you and drew his hands up to cup yours on his shoulders. He gently thumbed over your knuckles before turning his head to kiss at your fingers, shuddering as you slowly dragged your blunt fingernails down his chest and pinched at his nipples. He bore his hips down against your body before he swung his leg over yours to dismount from your lap and reach for your laptop by your bed.
“I want to get a really pretty one, though,” he commented firmly, waving his finger at you, “Just to start off with. Okay?”
“Sounds good to me,” you shrugged in response.
After spending a little time online, Mahito decided to push the laptop to the side and study your own, tilting his head to the side while he willed his body to grow his own at the expense of his cock. It was not too long until he and you were sat on your sides with him thumbing apart your walls to then grow his own vagina. He shuddered as the air hit him, his legs butterflied out to the side while he experienced it in all its glory.
“Ew! Why is it so slippery already!?” he laughed nervously while his fingers slowly rubbed along his inner walls, “Hah! I think I could cum if I do this enough. Wait, what’s- ahh-!” His face flushed a violent red as soon as his fingers brushed against his clit, prompting you to immediately grip his wrists and push him back with all your weight until he was on his back and looking up at you with shock.
“Now stay just like that,” you commanded him while shouldering his legs open, “That’s my good boy-... Hang on, do you want me to call you that right now, or would you prefer ‘pretty girl’?” Mahito’s eyes went from mildly concerned and aroused to deep in thought. He pondered for a moment before his lips broadened in a grin.
“No, I’m still a boy,” he beamed at you, “And I’m still yours.” He batted his lengthy, blue eyelashes innocently down at you while he spread his thighs to enable you better access into his sweet centre. He led you by his hands into his body while smiling as sweetly and innocently as he could.
Narrowing your eyes and pursing your lips at him, you gave him a gentle kiss on his thigh and bullied your way back against his core by hooking his legs over your shoulders and pressing them back against his belly. Now revealed to you, you examined his cunt and hummed in approval while watching his arousal begin to seep from his slit out and down towards his puckered hole.
“Wow, you are actually really into this, aren’t you?” you commented while thumbing open his walls. Mahito whined and reached down to swat at you before you leaned down and latched immediately against his clit. You flattened your tongue and swirled over his pert nub, ensuring the hood was elevated by both of your thumbs at the top of his cunt to give him the maximum pressure he could experience.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck-!” he cried. His back bowed and hands immediately shifted to your head to hold you against him. His clit throbbed in your mouth while arousal hit your chin and left a glossy sheen of his ecstasy against your skin. He was close already, his body nearing that end by the pitch in his whine...
…Prompting you to immediately unlatch from his clit and attach your lips to his outer wall.
Mahito let out a sound somewhere between a roar in rage and a braying whine while he immediately moved to sit. He pushed your body away from him and peered down at you with venomous rage in his eyes. You could not bite back the fiendish giggle that bubbled in your throat the longer he stared at you with anger in his dual-colored lenses.
“Oh, so you think this is funny?” he growled while his pout continued to overtake his face, “I was going to cum! And you just-.... You just-... You…” his eyes moved from their scowl to then immediately widen at you with a deep understanding of empathy. There was a sheepishness to his expression, prompting you to find your own little victory on your face the longer he processed it.
“You get it now?”
“Yes, I get it now.”
“You want me to make you cum now, pretty boy?” you bat your eyes at him and reached up to cup his right cheek, thumbing over the meeting place between his horizontal and vertical scar. “Learned your lesson, honey?” You leaned up and gently placed a soft kiss against his lips before deepening it. Mahito moved his hands to wrap firmly around your middle and hold you against himself, moving his lips easily against your own to cast that perfect mold over them in a way only he could.
Pulling away from the kiss, Mahito’s eyes welled a little at the water line, his unhinged charm disappearing and replaced with a wonder and anticipation the longer he gazed at you. You took that as an affirmation, prompting you to go between his legs and truly take into account the cunt he grew for you to enjoy. You cooed gently at it, looking at the small patch of blue hair and how his pearly clit stood out from between his pretty, pink walls still gushing with arousal.
“Okay, baby,” you smile down at him, “We’re going to teach you some things, okay? Starting with this.” You moved your hand against his pussy, parting his folds to give you better access to his clit. With one hand keeping his body open, the other moved your index finger against his clit, focussing on small circles before switching to an up and down motion. Mahito’s breath came out in gentle pants, watching eagerly while you easily coached pleasure out of him with just a small motion.
Mahito tried to fight the small moans coming from his throat, attempting to remove the way his face began to contort in pleasure the longer you played with him - all which only served to have you focus on the same motions over and over again. His whines began to become more apparent to the point that he couldn’t give you a second of warning before his walls began to contract around nothing, clit stiffening while his legs shook in time with every wave of his orgasm.
The cursed spirit brayed and bleated with every small wave of a very gentle climax, his clit the only thing being stimulated by a single finger. Mahito reached down to grab your wrist to stop your motion from the oversensitivity, causing you to chuckle at him. He flopped back onto the mattress and covered his face in the remaining hand while the one against your wrist relaxed as soon as you withdrew your index finger from his clit.
“What have we learned?” you hummed up at him from between his legs. Mahito groaned at you and muffled his answer from behind his fingers, prompting you to nip harshly at his inner thigh. He gasped and shot you an accusatory look while you continued to beam up at him.
“Same movement. Long period of time. No alteration to the motion,” he snarled at you with his nose scrunched. You felt your belly coil at his sweet expression, prompting you to smirk at him in response and return to your place between his legs. Panic moved in his eyes while your hands slowly returned to his pussy. “N-No, wait! What are you doing?” He moved his body back, causing you to wrap your forearms around his thighs to drag him back into yourself.
“Teaching you the next thing about having a pussy, Mahito,” you nodded up at him, “Multiple orgasms.”
“Oh, no, no, no, no, no,” Mahito panicked, which only promoted your mocking: “Oh, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes,” in response to him. He tried to move his hands to shove you away, only stopping when your index finger moved down to his slit and slowly pressed into his core. He bleated out at the foreign sensation while you continued to work him open. It was only when you pressed down until the third knuckle, your finger completely sheathed in him that he began to relax into you and examined the sensation.
“Is this what it’s like for you when I put my cock in?” he pondered while peering down at you between his legs, “Like, this weird tickly thing that- oh, what’s that?!” You pressed against the spongy underside of his clit and focussed your grinding pressure on the pad of your index finger against it.
“That, baby,” you retracted your finger completely down to the tip of your finger before pressing your middle finger beside it, “Is your g-spot. It’s where some people can have a different type of orgasm. Lots of people can’t, but I thought there wasn’t any harm in trying with you. Can I add another finger?”
“Please,” Mahito asked sweetly, “But be gentle, it’s my first time with one of these.” He gestured down at his pussy, where you’ve settled in comfortably, “I don’t want it to hurt. I saw… I saw that it hurts when you get- Oh, fuuuuck-!” You added the second finger down to the hilt, watching as he completely flopped back into the mattress and fluttered his eyes close shut in bliss.
“It only hurts if you’re not wet enough, and you’re not completely relaxed,” you nod down at his body while slipping your fingers in and out of him, “And baby, between you and me, you’re completely coating my palm right now. We’re in no short supply of any arousal. Also,” you moved your thumb up to pinch at the thin barrier between his clit and his g-spot, moving in tandem with your single hand to bring him pleasure, “You’re so close to cumming again.”
“I am,” he gasped softly. His eyebrows triangulated up in the center as his lips parted in a perfect circle, “I-It’s like-! I-I-I can’t help it!”
“Cum for me, pretty boy,” you cooed up at him, “Let go for me. I want you to cum for me so you know how good it feels. Come on, Mahito. Don’t you want to make me proud?” Mahito cried. His body sobbing with him while he gushed out more of his sweet, syruppy arousal into your hand. His cunt sucked greedily on your fingers with every thrumming contraction while he cast aside his inhibitions to reduce his sweet moans. Your own cunt clenched while yelling for attention, forcing you to lose yourself in helping him lose himself.
Retracting your fingers completely, you moved your thumb up to his clitoral hood and immediately lunged for his clit while he was too distracted to pull you away. He yelped and sobbed, moving his hands to your head and attempted to weakly swat you away while you were relentless in sprinting him from one climax to the next.
“W-W-W-WAIT-!” Mahito screamed while his back bowed away from the bed, “No, I-I’m gonna-! Mmnnmnhghh-! I’m gonna cum again! Wait-!” Mahito grabbed the back of your head and grappled you against his cunt, all while howling your name as if he was summoning you with a chant to a faith starring you as his deity. “Cumming,” he whimpered pathetically, “M’cumming-!”
You muffled your own pleasure at the sight while staring up at him through sex-drunk eyes and watching as his chest heaved in time with the thrum of his cunt. He began to sob as thick, wet tears that then coasted down his cheeks and dampen the pillow beneath his head. Sweat beaded at his temples while his lengthy hair stuck to his skin. He resigned himself to his fate as you continued to suck and roll your tongue against his cunt to shepherd one climax into the next.
Both of you had forgotten why he did this to begin with somewhere between the fifth and sixth time you’d drawn out of him on your hands, lips, and tongue. Mahito was completely lost to the sensation and beyond wrung out by the time he had his legs interwoven with your own. Chest to chest, cunt to cunt, Mahito lazily rolled his hips against yours to grind against you. Both your arousals stuck together in a messy kiss while you met that friction to bring together your joint highs.
“S-S-So like this,” Mahito uttered with his breath catching in his throat, “J-Just with a rh-rhythm like-! I’m gonna cum again. I’m gonna cum again. I-I th-think I’m gonna die with this o-one!” his whimpering sob had your hands immediately gripping his ass to drag him to and fro as your own impending orgasm knit itself in your belly and began to tighten. Your clits caught against one another, just as your lips met in a messy, passionate oscillation of tongues and teeth. Your pussies caught against one another while you both met your highs.
Light split in your vision while Mahito screamed against your lips, his body going rigid in your arms before completely going limp and allowing you to drag him against your body to drag out your high. The weight of his body crushing your torso had you feeling trapped, bringing out a lengthier rise in you until your breath returned back to its regular rapidity. You reached up and stroked Mahito’s hair while you felt his pelvis shift into his regular cock, lying limply between your legs and as asleep as he was.
“You did so good, baby,” you praised him while his gentle snores huffed against your cheek and jaw. You pressed your lips against his temple and slowly moved him over to his side. His lashes were completely fluttered shut, out like a candle blown by the wind. He looked at peace and sleeping soundly beside you. Reaching down for the blankets, you moved them over your bodies and gave him a final kiss while settling in beside him.
You couldn’t remember falling asleep, but you never forgot the rest you found in his arms while ignoring the world continuing to busy itself around you. Just you and your Mahito, syncing in breaths and climaxes until you finally found the peace you both deserved.
Thank you for reading! If you enjoy this, please check out my masterlist for other JJK fics, my monsterlist pinned at @sultrysnail for original content, or my one piece masterlist pinned at @fanaticsnail.
Kiyotaka Ijichi 🖤
