Good day, Dear Reader, and welcome to my profile! I write Jjk related stuff - smut, angst, fluff, anything - which you will find here. If you have any requests, you can comment them or dm me. It's up to you.
Have a wonderful day 💜
scorching hot — Sukuna.
Cry, Baby. a long Sukuna x Reader fic with lots of historical settings to come. | check out the full masterlist here!
a oneshot - falling in love with Sukuna's soft side.
ice cold — Nanami.
I want it All. a longer fic with evil!Nanami and fem!reader.
rock hard — Toji Fushiguro.
Pura Tentação. one-shot with dilf!Toji x succubus reader.
cocktails - other JJK characters.
Envy. a geto x reader - gojo x reader oneshot with unrequited love. part one, and part two.
for other fandoms and older works, check out this link!
dividers by @cursed-carmine 🤍
pairing: still alive!Toji x succubus!reader
synopsis: being a succubus comes with its own hardships—meaning lots of cumming and hard men. santa has a list, and so do you, on which you intend to cross out all the names you've written. starting with the Zen'in clan's most feared produce: Toji Fushiguro.
content: SMUT. Toji is very much still alive and kicking (and fucking). spontaneous (...) hookup, unprotected sex, piv sex, creampie, degrading, reader being a needy little slut, Toji not holding back, manipulation.
word count: ~2.5k
a/n: i've been inactive for so long i forgot how to write lol. but because s3 just came out so did my obsession with toxic buff men. not saying you should expect more coming but maybe. (and yes I have been listening to brazil phonk non-stop.) anyway have fun reading xoxo
Step, step. Step, step.
The warehouse was empty, just like he was told it would be. The only sounds reverbating through the vast hall were made by his footsteps. Right, left. Right, left. Absolutely nothing in sight. He scanned through various rooms and other halls, looking for any sign of movement or cursed energy, but he was yet to find anything.
Toji Fushiguro was on a mission — to find and exorcise a curse that had allegedly tried to molest a rich man's pretty little daughter. He wondered for a second if he should just look for the homeless man that had scurried out of an abandoned office a few minutes ago and kill him (he kinda did look like a curse in the dark).
A scream.
Toji looked up and smiled. There it is.
He turned just in time to see the big, ugly curse that attempted to throw itself at him. Toji reached for his sword, pulled it out and cut into the hideous monster before it could have reached him. It screeched, changed its trajectory and spat out a thick, green liquid that landed right where he was standing a glimpse ago. But regardless of his size and fifteen arms reaching for his face, this low-grade curse was obviously no match to him. With a swift movement, he slashed the creature in half, and watched it perish.
He wondered if his presence was really neccessary for this curse, but then remembered the fat cheque coming his way and shrugged.
Toji looked up from where he first heard the scream, a woman's scream, and he saw two legs — your legs — dangling in the air. Fucking hell, he though. I'm not here to babysit.
Still, he bent his knees, and jumped up toward the roof. He passed a few iron pipes before he landed on the pillar you were holding on to. Body shaking, clothes torn, flesh spilling out from underneath the ripped fabric.
It took Toji a second to look over your body and found no serious injuries.
"Who are you?" You asked, voice trembling a little from the sight of the huge, threatening man standing before you, his sword still in hand.
"What do ya care?" He huffed, stepping closer to you. There was a faint trace of cursed energy surrounding you, he felt that, but nothing he should have to worry about. You clearly seemed to be an innocent damsel in distress, and although he was not in the mood to waste his precious time, he let his eyes follow the curves of your body again. "Stand up."
"What?" You seemed to be even more scared than you were before he showed up.
"I said stand up. Or do ya wanna stay up here for something else to find ya?"
You finally seemed to come to your senses, and you slowly let go of the post you were holding onto, only for your legs to buckle as soon as you pushed yourself up. Toji quickly catched you before you could have fallen, pulling you close to him. Your face reddened in response to his closeness. He chuckled. Little princess is embarrassed, huh?
But then he caught a whiff of your scent, and his mind went blank immediately.
Delicious.
The sweetest, most innocent and yet so strong and inviting smell he has ever met. It was like his brain went absolutely bull mode, erasing any other thought that weren't connected to getting a bite from the little lamb pressed so close to his aching body.
He blinked, trying to recollect himself. What the fuck was that?
"Sir?" You asked again, fluttering your lashes up at him with big doe eyes. He swore he'd seen a porno like this before. "Is everything okay?"
His eyes accidentally darted to your deep cleavage. "Let's get down from here," he said instead, stepping to the side to rearrange his already half-hard cock, only to be drawn back to the intoxicating smell coming from you. Toji wrapped his arms around you, which made your tits press up against his pecs even more. He blinked a few times again, swallowed, then picked you up and jumped down.
You let out a horrified shreek and reflexively held onto his neck, burying your face in the crook of his neck. The man grunted in response. When his feet finally touched the ground, he was quick to drop place you down. He was already a few steps ahead when you scrambled to your feet again, and ran after him.
"Wait! I don't know how to thank you!"
Toji just honestly wanted to get the hell out of this weird warehouse, with the weird groping curse and the weird woman with the weirdly dick-hardening smell. He was in no mood to fuck around and find out, he just—
Your fingers touched his biceps, and he stopped immediately.
"Please, I... I didn't know how I could get rid of that hideous thing, I was so scared, I thought I was going to die, but then... then you came and saved me!" You sobbed, and he made the biggest mistake he could—he turned around.
And oh, he really shouldn't have.
That adorable, teary-eyed face and those ripped clothes that left so little to imagination almost made him snap.
Toji grabbed your arms and stepped so close your breath hitched.
"What... Are you doing to me?" He growled. You shivered under his touch, which would've added to the full hard-on he was sporting, if it wasn't for that last drop of self-reservation still left at the back of his mind.
"Nothing, I just... I just want to thank you..." You stuttered, face all red and even redder when your eyes caught the outline of something below his abdomen. "If... You don't mind..."
"Mind what, exactly?"
Your hand reached out, painfully slowly, and touched his chest. It was like electricity, want jolting through his entire body. His cock jumped in his pants, begging to be let free. He inhaled sharply, but let you trace the outline of his sculpted muscles with your palm, until it reached the hem of his pants.
You suddenly looked hesitant, even more shy than before. But Toji's had enough.
He grabbed your hands, yanked them above your head and slammed you to the nearest wall with enough force for your lungs to heave out your breath, but not nearly enough to cause real damage. His voice was low, dangerous, as he spoke.
"You wanna fuck a stranger in a random warehouse in the middle of Tokyo? 'S that right, woman?" Toji snarled, but to your surprise, he reached down to his pants, and sprung his aching cock free. You swallowed — the guy was huge. Painfully huge. He gave it a few pumps while he talked. "Well then I'll be damned if I don't accept the offer."
He turned you around and pinned your hands to the wall. Your back arched naturally, which only fueled the fire. Toji grabbed your ass, sqeezed so hard you were sure it'd leave bruises, and pressed his hips forward. You gasped when you felt his length against you, and even so when he tugged your pants down and met with the pink lace panties underneath it. He gave your ass a firm slap.
"Such a slut," he chuckled. "Aren't ya ashamed of yourself? Walking around, wearing nothin' but this?" He hooked his fingers under the lace, and pushed it to the side. "Hope your cunt's wet enough to take me 'cuz I ain't preppin' a whore like this."
And he was already at your entrance, pushing in mercilessly, bullying his incredible girth inside. You let out a pained yelp, trying to adjust your hips to accomodate him, but his left hand held you firmly, however it was best for him. He pumped in, pulled out, then slammed himself in in one go. You screamed, both in pain and pleasure. "Wait, slow— ah! Slow down!" You managed to utter the words which were absolutely ignored by the man fucking into your pussy.
"Slow? For a bitch like ya? Don't make me laugh," he scoffed, snapping his hips back and forth, forcing his way in and out. "You're as wet as a weeping widow, darling. You brought this on yourself."
Toji felt you ease under him after a few more strokes, pained squeals turning into pleasured moans, and your hips trying to match his pace. The sound of skin slapping on skin filled the whole hall alongside his grunts and your cries.
"F-fuck, oh my God, oh my God oh my God—" you panted, screaming on his cock like your life depended on it.
"Yeah, that's right. At least you're good at it, aren't ya," he chuckled, pulling you further back on his length. He was balls deep inside you, tip nudging your cervix, which would have otherwise been painful — but no, not now, now you were too deep in pleasure and too far gone to register anything else than his cock buried inside you to the hilt.
He felt the way your walls fluttered around him, breath ragged and uneven, moans becoming more like pleasured screams. He was close, too, but he was not exactly done with you.
Toji pulled out. You let out a dissatisfied cry, but then you were being lifted into the air and flipped, and just a beat after your back hit something hard. He placed you on a table and glared at you like a starved man, like you were his last meal on Earth, like he was ready to eat up all of you in a whim. Your stomach fluttered when he leaned above you and slammed his huge length back into your tight hole. You started moaning again, but this was diffenet now, you knew that it would only take so much to push him over the edge.
So you wrapped your legs around his waist.
The new angle was so delicious that the man couldn't last any longer. Just a few pumps later he was grunting and groaning and spilling his load inside you. The heat of him and the sight of his veins popping on his neck was so good you yourself almost tripped, but you held yourself together and didn't let go. Toji rode out his orgasm with his head thrown back, cursing and hands grabbing your thighs painfully hard.
It took him several seconds to come down and stop his hips. He fell forward, hands stopping right next to your head.
His eyes were piercing into yours.
The fire that you manipulated regained its natural colors, and you thought for a moment that he was going to end your life you on the spot.
You were a trembling mess when he looked away. He pulled out, not watching for the mixed cum and juices that were dripping onto the concrete floor in a steady pace. Toji grabbed a few tissue papers, throwing some at you and cleaning his softened cock with the rest. You were absolutely wordless, not even knowing what to say. Or where to start cleaning yourself up.
"Got your message. But do not ever get in my way again," he said, striking a scorching look at you. "I'll kill ya if ya try to seduce me a second time."
And with that, he turned around and left.
You were too stunned to move, just lying on the table, cunt dripping of cum, clothes torn to nil, hole still stretched out.
You blinked. Then scoffed in disbelief. What a fucking prick!
Grabbing the tissue papers, you cleaned yourself up the best you could, then stood to your legs (which almost collapsed under you) and walked to the back of the hall. The black backpack was still there, placed neatly in a hidden corner by none other than yourself. You unzipped it, took out a couple more wipes, tidied yourself, then stripped of the shreds and put on new clothes and a comfortable pair of sneakers. In under five minutes you were out of the building, ready to hop into a taxi on your way home.
It didn't take long for you to reach your destination. The lilac door you'd gotten so used to think as yours was locked. It seemed like your sisters were still out on their business.
You sighed, and walked to your room. Your body begged for a warm, cleansing shower, but first, you had something else to do. Next to your bed stood a small bookshelf, and on it, lay a pink notebook. You grabbed a pen, opened the notebook, and started flipping through pages filled with names—names of the men you'd had sex with.
As a succubus, you couldn't be so picky about your so-called "victims." You needed their... energy to stay alive, to keep up your end of the bargain as a provider. If you failed to do that, then your boss would kill you—quite literally. Unfortunately, you'd seen it happen to one of your incubus brothers. He got his arms ripped off, chest opened, and then cannibalised by the King. And you didn't want that kind of a relationship with your boss, no... you wanted something else.
But for that, you needed to get crazy strong.
That's why your next targets weren't just drunk salarymen and tourists. No, you aimed for something higher, the best of Japan.
And on top of that list was a name written in black ink.
Toji Fushiguro.
You smiled as you crossed him out.
You had to have sex with men and women, it was a must, but it wasn't like you didn't enjoy all of this. Quite on the contrary, actually, and that's while you became a succubus—for the pleasure.
And for toying with men who didn't even realize it was not them holding the leash, but the other way around.
Your grin grew wider as you closed the notebook, with your name etched on the cover, putting it back to its place. You licked your lips. Another day of winning, another day of getting closer to your goal.
Another man who fell victim to your temptations, and not the last one by far.
okay I've been seeing so much discourse about characterization and the popularity of smut particularly in fanfics, and while usually, I keep my mouth shut lol I just wanted to chime in with my two cents because I think its more nuanced than people want to admit - and just a heads up I will block anyone who wants to be a dick in the comments because this is supposed to be a constructive conversation about being more supportive and fostering a more interactive community as a whole - this is NOT to shame anyone who prefers fluff to smut or vice versa.
the reason there's so much smut on here is simple. and I've literally seen people call it a porn addiction problem, but really, I think it is much rather an attention-span problem. other content does not get nearly as much traction point-blank. the only content that will get even CLOSE to as much traction is smaus - because they are easy to read and include typically every character so it caters to everyone but if you don't write smaus, most people will not stick around to read a wall of text unless they recognize the account or it is formatted a particular way. ESPECIALLY WHEN IT COMES TO LONG FORM CONTENT.
short blurbs/drabbles of fluff do occasionally get popular - but if it's a long fic? a slow burn or build? it will often get scrolled past. people say they want this and want long fics and all the drama and angst, and then only read completed fics rather than interact with an ongoing one that would encourage the creator to actually complete it. and a lot of times if the long fic contains no to very little smut, they will rarely get interaction at all. and yeah, sure, sometimes it's just life or other stuff that get in the way, but I think most people with unfinished fics would credit that to lack of motivation.
a LOT of creators who DID start writing fluff or only longer content on here end up switching over time because it can be so disheartening to see something you work on essentially flop. and I would say that for most of them - its NOT just about notes. it's about actually commenting and really INTERACTING with people over it. a comment is going to mean a lot more than a like.
my most popular post on here is this - which is literally less than 400 words and feeds into the most popular characterization of a nanami. and if you look at a majority of the most popular content for this fandom - you'll find a lot of the same. short, easily consumable, and based around sex in some way.
while stuff that goes AGAINST what the popular fandom version of a character will get you the bad kind of interaction where people complain about and start arguments over your own interpretation of a character. myself and SEVERAL other creators I've spoken to privately on here have experienced it where people latch onto a specific perception of a character and lash out when it's challenged. and typically, it's over a character where there isn't a lot of long form content for (WHICH THEY SAY THEY WANT!) however, they fail to realize by acting this and directing this negativity TOWARDS creators and making demands, it turns them off from ever writing for said character again.
if you dislike something a character does or is portrayed or you want to see it a certain way, you SHOULD scroll then. it is your responsibility to choose what content you consume or write it yourself. fan fiction is geared towards the fans - but that doesn't mean it's made for YOU specifically. publicly posting and saying that you hate when writers do x thing that is hyper specific and openly disparages on someone else's creation is really damaging as a whole to what should be a fun space.
just let people write whatever weird and wild shit they want. if you don't like it, move on. if you do, you have to show it. comment and like and leave asks and start conversations. I know it's awkward at first and it's hard to put yourself out there, but I promise that it's scary for the creators too! most of them will genuinely be THRILLED if you leave a comment or an ask - even if they don't respond right away. so many people are silent observers, which I don't blame you for, I actually completely understand, but as someone who has seen and experienced first-hand what a big difference there can be on posts with smut vs without smut, it is very easy to see what makes something popular despite what is actually good quality writing. some really fantastic posts I've seen have CRIMINALLY low notes and there's been a few that I've literally hated with all my heart that had thousands. but did I post about those? no. I blocked and moved on with my life.
if you want more fluff, you HAVE to interact with fluff. if you don't like smut, just block the tags. if you enjoy a creator's work, tell them!
there are already so many toxic places and fandoms already out there - and there are definitely corners where this one is too. but as someone with a pretty decent platform, I would like to make it clear that we should all foster as supportive of an environment as possible and start a positive and more informative conversation about it rather than just shitting on people who enjoy smut or dismiss those who genuinely just want more fluff/angst content. I know I've said it before, but I'm going to reiterate it again - if you ever read a good fic, tag me! I don't always have a lot of time to read, but I do reblog the ones I enjoy and come across so I'd be more than happy to highlight what you send me too.
synopsis: you're done with the military. you gave your country seven long years of hard service, and all you want now is some rest — but an old friend stops by, offers you a mission, and you just have to get away from it all. and that's when you meet him.
content: profanity, reader being a bit bitchy, reader also being a bit of an alcoholic —usage of alcohol, fingering, piv sex, unprotected sex, Simon coming (not only out of his shell. yum-yum.)
dividers by: @cursed-carmine @andromeda-graphics
"No."
You practically slam the door on Juárez's face. You turn back, stomp into your living room, and grab a beer.
"Wait, no, just hear me out!"
"I said no," you shout back and drown half of the can in one sip.
And you meant no.
It has been almost two years since you cut ties with the military. Nine years ago you had been a shining cadet, smiling and beaming, breaking records and bragging to your friends about you getting drafted, starting a new life, organized and put together.
But now? It has been some time, things happened, and you did not want to go back.
The woman at your door, your (former?) best friend, Lieutenant Camíla Juárez — the five foot two latina who beat grown men's asses more times than you could count, but is absolutely terrified of swearing — is currently contemplating on kicking your entrance down, which you are not happy about.
All those nos.
When have you become so sour?
You scoff and swallow the rest of the bitter alcohol, slam the empty can on the counter and turn to the door.
"Did you seriously just come here to give me a job offer you know I won't take?"
"Y- no, I came to visit you!" Juárez insisted while continuing banging on your door. "I missed you!"
"Bullshit."
"It's not, just let me in!" She insists, and you think your brain is going to fucking blow up.
"Camíla, it's been a damn year."
"Yes, and I'm sorryyyy... but I brought our whisky!
You stopped. Damn it.
"So... What's it gonna be? Will you let me in now?"
You just know she is making those irresistible puppy eyes behind the door. You're just glad you don't see them.
But the whisky...
You huff and walk to the door. When you open it, the woman is already wearing his signature shit-eating grin, holding up a bottle of that good ol' whisky you used to drink together after successful missions.
"Thank youuu," she sings as she makes her way into your hall.
"Shoes off," you command, and she salutes.
"Yes, ma'am."
"Gimme that."
You snatch the whisky from her hands, pop the bottle open and help yourself to a whiff. You hum in approval.
"Bit rude, but you're welcome," Camíla gurnts, but you send a piercing gaze in her direction.
"When military life pays you that well, you ought to share it with your friends, isn't that right?"
"Well it could also pay you well..."
"Camíla," you say warningly. She puts up her hands.
"Okay, okay. Just saying."
And she's already reaching for a folder in her bag. You step back.
"No, I am not taking on any missions."
"I know, I know. But this one..."
"Camíla..."
"... is really cut out for ya."
"I told you..."
"You'll just have to translate! It's a short mission, in and out in a few hours, no battlefield, no guns, just a short oonversation," she insist, and you're already fuming, but she tosses the folder into your hands anyway. You reflexively catch it.
This woman hasn't been in your house for a fucking minute and she's already got your next three jobs lined up for you, probably.
Suddenly you remembered why you weren't so sad she stopped dropping by.
Camíla walks into your living room and glances around. "I see your OCD is as present as ever."
"Well, if someone storms in to attempt to make my life make a U-turn one unexpected day, at least my home is tidy for it," you shake your head, but crack a small smile. "But seriously, Camíla. No more missions. I am tired of the military, and you know very well why."
"I know, girl, but this one, these guys are different," she stops at your couch, admiring the photos hanging on your wall. Some are with your squad, some ar just with her, some are with your family. Suddenly, you feel insecure about your private life put on display. "I know you loved your job before the incident. And you know I only trust people that give me a reason to do so. So when I say you can trust them, believe me."
You don't say anyhing, only pour whisky into two glasses. Camíla continues with a swallow.
"I also know your money is running out. I want to help you, and this is the best way I can." You want to cut her off for saying something like that, but you only hiss at her in your head. Because unfortunately, she is right. "I can't guarantee your safety, but this squad is no joke. They're good."
You stand there in the kitchen, already spiraling, and you just want to scream at Camíla for making you even consider something like this.
She knew what happened to you in Yemen.
She knew very well how scared you were when it came to going back to the military.
She knew it, and she still came here to shove this offer under your nose.
The glass clatters on the countertop. You stand in your kitchen, in your safe space, which is now invaded by a person you have trusted and favoured for all those years. And all you think to yourself was that you want to be left alone.
You hear steps behind you, and feel your friend's hand on your shoulder. You stiffen — and she knows it already. She rubs at your knots she knows are the hardest to relax. You're confused.
"I know, querida. But please. You're so good in these situations. I need your help."
"No, you don't," you rasp out, but she doesn't back off.
"You're the best I know. This job will benefit both you and the task force. It really is a one-time thing."
"Camíla, it never is."
"If you say you don't want to keep going, I'll respect that," she squeezes your shoudler, then lets go of it. You exhale sharply. "But just give this a chance. When was the last time you felt the rush of adrenaline we used to adore so much? You wake up, go to the gym or shooting, come home, sleep, and repeat. You're not doing anything with your skills. You're wasting yourself."
"That's my decision," you bark back. You already regret it, but you feel so bad, because once again, she is right.
"With the way you're doing right now, it shouldn't be."
Her steps echo in your house that suddenly feel so, so empty. You don't want to admit to yourself the truth.
You're scared.
But you might be missing something.
Camíla picks up the folder and places it directly under your hand hovering above the counter. She then raises her glass and drowns the expensive whisky. You don't follow her to the door.
"Call me until tomorrow afternoon when you've thought it through. Really thought about it," you hear her rustling with her shoes and open your door. "It was good to see you again."
The door closes.
You stare at the folder.
You need more whisky for this inner conversation.
After a few a few hours, a bit more of the whisky and a half-proper and quite late dinner, you do what every sensible person would do.
You go to the gym.
Picking up your already packed bag, slinging it over your shoulder and stepping out your door is the easy thing. Calming your head down and clearing your thoughts out is the hard thing. But you hope that some weights would help with that. The 24/7 gym just a few blocks away is your second home by now anyway - you go there almost every day, and you always stay there for at least two hours if not more, no matter what time you make it there.
You quickly change from your comfy outfit to your even more comfy outfit, take your towel, flask, phone and headphones with you and head straight to the treadmill to warm up. You put in a few miles, blasting Metallica in your headphones and honestly try convincing yourself that no, you do not need this mission to somewhat raise your self-esteem back into a near healthy level. That yes, you really just need some peace of mind to find yourself again, and you'll be back on track in a few months.
But you haven't been back on track for two years.
You need some consistency, and although you gave yourself a pretty strict manual on "how to operate daily life," it was not nearly enough.
And truth be told, you missed the army.
You exhale sharply and jump off of the treadmill. Enter Sandman would sound so much better if you weren't in an existetional crisis for the third time this day.
You instead pick up your belongings and turn to go to the adductor.
But you stop. Because your favourite machine is already occupied by a stranger.
You had never seen the man before - you would remember his broad stature and refined muscles if you had. But mostly, the black balaclava. That would be hard to miss.
It was a rare phenomenon to see anyone besides the four regulars — including yourself — training here around midnight. No person of sound mind goes to the gym after ten pm, especially if they're not from around here. And he was definitely not from here.
Your eyes trail to his massive flexing biceps as he holds onto the handles, and a wave of heat washes throught you.
How long has it been since you got laid?
You blink your eyes closed and open. Stop. Leave the poor man alone.
Eventually, you realize you need to start with the abductor anyway, so you can't help but make your way to the machine beside him.
Your headphones are still on, but there is no more Unforgiven playing through them anymore. They are just on to make the situation less uncomfortable. Because it's only the stranger, you, and two other people scattered around the huge training area, and you just so happened to need the machine that is next to his.
You feel his eyes on you as you walk toward him. You try to be as oblivious about his presense as possible, but it's impossible not to meet his eyes when you near that mountain of a man. But you just nod him curtly, take your seat, adjust the weight, and continue your workout. And so does he.
Or, at least, he wants to.
But the adductor he is sitting on decides to pull a shenanigan, as usual - when he reaches to adjust the machine, it let out a loud crank! and stops moving altogether. The man looks panicked for a second, and continues to stay uneasy as he realises it's not going to move.
You're glad your headphones didn't play any music. You thank faith for giving you a chance, then push them to the side.
"Don't worry, it does this all the time," you assure him while standing up to help him out. "I'll tell management to fix it. Again."
"You come here often?" He speaks finally, and gosh, his voice is just perfectly gruffy, juiced with an attractive british accent that has your core swaying.
Stop. Girl. Calm the hell down.
And still, you can't help but put your best form on display when you bend down to yank the machine into working. "Every day. I've been telling them to repair this or do something with it because even I can't get it to work sometimes. But it should be okay now." You answer, hitting a dial back in its place. You glance up at him to read his expression, but sadly, the mask covers all the important pieces, except for his eyes. "And what brought you here?"
He stays silent for a few moments before he answers in one simple word. "Work."
"Must be hard if you only have time to come at night."
"You could say that."
You sit back into your machine and continue your routine, but don't put your headphones back on, only remove them from your head. A few sets go by when he stops and glances at you.
"Wanna swap?" He asks, and you squeeze out a few more sweaty reps out of you before you say yes. He stands up silently, and fuck, he is large. Both in height and width, if you can say something like that.
You try to prevent yourself from wondering if his manhood would be of similar size.
The rest of the workout goes by in silence. You do a few swaps, occasionally exchanging a few words and glances, but nothing more. When he stands up to go to a different machine, you almost feel disappointed.
"Is there any more doubtful equipment I should know about?" He asks then, and your heart flutters.
"Well... ah, you need to pay attention when racking on one of those leg extensions, sometimes the weight doesn't snap in right away."
"Alright, thank you," he says, and you see him turning to leave, but then he halts. "Are you hitting legs today too?"
"Full body, actually."
"You want me to spot you?"
You really don't need a spotter, but if it's a beefy stranger? Hell, you're weak then.
"Yeah, that would be good, thanks."
And for the rest of your two-hour stay in your gym, your heart would not be working normally. When he towers above you — and holy fuck, did he — your knees go weak, and all the dark thoughts exit your head in a whiff. When he helps you rack on the weight, your arms suddenly stop working, and when he needs help with anything, you are quick to aid him. Your session goes by in the blink of an eye, and you can't help but feel sad when he implies he should get going.
"Thanks for the spotting," you say with a soft smile when you meet him in the lobby. You wanted to change your gym dress back into your regular comfy clothing, but you were not going to do that when someone that hot was waiting on you.
"Thanks for the help," he nods. You see him hesitate for a few seconds, but then he speaks again. "Did you drive here?"
"No, I walked."
"You want me to drive you home?"
Anticipation ignites in your chest like a wildfire.
"Oh, I mean, I live pretty close, but yeah. That would be good, thanks."
And even though your small house is just a ten minute walk from here, you follow him outside, get into his car. You try to not trip on the pavement even though your muscles are already aching pretty hard, and tell him the directions. You don't speak about anything more for those next two minutes it takes to get here, but when he parks in front of your house, your chest is heavy again.
Is this really a good idea? You're not the type to hook up and it's been ages since you had sex... Is he even open to it? Can you really trust him?
"I guess that's my cue," you drop him a small smile when you get out of the car, and you expect him to bid you good night and drive away. But to your surprise, he follows you.
You swallow.
"You want to come inside? I've got some pretty good whisky."
He hesitates again, but no, he nods and steps inside when you open the door.
You unlock your door and invite him in. While he kicks his shoes off, you go into the kitchen and bring the whisky and two glasses into the living room.
The man is already seated on your couch, his massive thighs sinking in the cushions, and you're already eyeing it, imagining how you'd straddle them. But you regulate yourself and sit down beside him.
You don't notice him eyeing your form as well.
You pour some alcohol and give him a glass. You watch him as he pulls up his mask to take a sip.
"Why the balaclava?" You blurt out, but already regret speaking when you see him freeze. "No, forget what I said, it was rude. Sorry."
"No, it's alright," he says while taking a sip. Then swallows again, and puts down the glass. "Scars. Have a lot of 'em on my face. I don't like to show it to strangers.
You are taken aback by how open he is about that, and apparently, he is too, because he blinks in surprise, looks at the whisky, then reaches for it again to drink some more.
"Scars, huh? I got some too."
You lift up your shirt to show him a long cut trailing from your right lowest rib to the bottom of your bra. His brows shot up in surprise.
"How'd you get that?"
"I'm ex-military."
The man blinks again, then leans back and lets out a short snicker. Your face starts burning in confusion.
Did you go too far...?
"Should've guessed," he shakes his head, and you almost start to get defensive, but he cuts you off. "I'm also military."
"Oh gosh," you grin. Now, you need more whisky. "Should've known, you're right."
"Yeah, you got that look about you."
"Thanks. Your balaclava speaks for itself too, really," you snicker as well, and you don't know if you should keep your distance now, but a warm feeling starts to keep inside your chest. Something familiar.
You introduce yourself to him, and he does the same.
"I can't believe I'm housing a Lieutenant," you grin. And oh, there is absolutely no stopping now. Although you would've imagined this night very differently, it's taking a turn for the better.
Even though you can't stop looking at his massive chest and arms.
"Well, I don't usually go inside a stranger's house as well. But I guess I made an exception."
"Hmm, how generous of you, Lieutenant," you hum.
"Indeed. I am not myself tonight, it seems."
"Well, you don't have to be, you're on leave anyway."
Suddenly, he's close. In a heartbeat, you're much more aware of his presence, his large figure, and the hairs on your neck stand up.
"You think so?" Simon asks, sitting a lot closer to you than reason would have it. Your body heats up.
"I don't know, Lieutenant. You tell me."
When you look into his eye, you see a shift in him.
All of a sudden, your world is shaken, and your back is pressed against your couch. Your breath catches in your throat when you look into his eyes again.
Hunger. Lust. Desire.
"Then you won't mind me acting out of line, will you, Sergeant?" He breathes, and your eyes trail over the scar on his lip.
"No-"
You don't even finish articulating that 'o' before he crashes into your lips. He is rough, not a trace of his calm and patient form you would've expected. His large hand grabs your waist, but he doesn't even need to ask, you're already arching up to meet his torso. His other hand grabs the armrest above your head while his leg presses up to meet your clothed groin. It takes all your strength to not start grinding on his thigh.
"Fuck, I needed this so bad," he huffs out, and you can wholeheartedly agree with him. Your lips crash again, limbs everywhere, one of his hands hiking up your shirt and finding your boobs to play with them. Your breath hitches when he pinches your nipple, easily prying the bra away from your sweaty skin, and god, it's already so overwhelming and so good.
"Simon," you manage between whines, making him cuss again. The heat radiating off of him makes you even hotter. One of your hands actually finds its way to his lap, and oh — he's rock hard.
Simon outright moans when you start palming him, rubbing at his caged cock inside his black sweatpants. His hips snap forward, seeking more friction, which you give him happily. Your lips stay glued to each other, only parting occasionally to gasp for air or moan while he squeezes your tits and you rub his dick. But after a few minutes he apparently gets tired, because you're suddenly picked up, strong arms grabbing the flesh of your ass, and he's carrying you to the bedroom. Good thinking.
"First door to the left," you mutter before laching back on his mouth. You accidentally collide with the wall, and you laugh, but that quickly turns into another moan when he pushes you against it and pries his clothed tip to your concealed entrance. His hand grabs your hair and yanks your head back to the wall, lips immediately on your neck while you're left gasping and whining. He bites, licks and kisses the skin there, even sucking on it, and with that force you're sure he's going to leave marks, but you really don't care.
Eventually, he grabs your thighs again and tumbles into the bedroom with you still in his hands. Simon throws you on the bed unceremoniously, only giving you enough time to take off your shirt before he's on you again, pinning you down with his weight. He nestles between your legs like he's already naked and pushing in, and you tug at the hem of his pants to just get it off already.
"Wait," Simon grunts, but you can't, you're already pushing down to free his aching cock. "Fuck, wait, I don't have a condom."
"I do," you say and reach for the second drawer on your nightstand. You hear rustling, and when you look back, your mouth dries out.
He is fucking massive.
Simon pumps his bobbing cock in his fist, which is at least a solid nine inches, as far as you can tell. It's both long and beefy, the tip already leaking precum, shaft wide and pink and veiny.
You've taken big men before, but this? How long has it been since you were stuffed with a monster like that?
"You alright?" He asks, and you shake your head.
"Yeah, just... Shit, that's a cock I don't have a condom for."
"Should we call it off, or...?
"Please don't," you groan, reminded by the wet slickness pooling in your panties when you shift backward. "I'll just take a plan B tomorrow. I want that monstrosity inside me in the next few seconds."
Simon laughs. "Alright. Don't tell me I didn't give you an out."
The next thing you see is the Lieutenant ripping down your pants and huffing at the wetness already coating your cunt. You half-expected him to start bullying himself in immediately, but he chose to bury his face in your pussy first, eating you out like a man starved for years. You grip your sheets and thank God for not changing it this morning. You have a feeling this is going to get messy.
"Tastes so good," he hums between licks, and you feel like you can't breathe. He is all over your clit, tongue and some teeth, scruff grazing at your entrance. You want to tell him to just cut the crap and stick his cock in you, but his fingers are pressing at your inner thighs, keeping you on the matress the way he likes it. "Stop it, lemme taste this pussy first."
You moan his name and he blows back at your cunt. He somewhat gains his self-conscience back, because his laps are more concentrated and collected. Not you though, no — you're starting to feel like an absolute mess with how good he is with his mouth, even though his dick is not even near entering you. Glancing down between soft cries, you're met with his face still in the balaclava, and you tug at it, not to get it off, but to just ground yourself. With the way he's doing it you fear you might cum on his face right away.
"How's it, Sergeant?" His voice is low, dangerous, and your core throbs in response.
And suddenly, there's a finger inside you.
You gasp when he pushes his digit in, and you swear it's already making you stretch. It's been so long you almost forgot how it feels like to be fingered, and you welcome the familiar sensation with a loud moan. Simon chuckles and says something, but your head is reeling. His tongue is back on your clit, sucking and nudging in all the right places, but still, a sour feeling settles in your stomach. You want more.
You meet his slow pumping with your hips, pushing down on his finger. "That eager to get fucked, huh? Don't worry, I got you," he says, and adds another digit. Your head falls back onto your pillow while gasps escape your mouth. All that's playing inside your head is more, more, more, and apparently, on your mouth too - because in the next few seconds, the fingers disappear, and something else pushes in.
Your mouth falls open when his thick cock nestles into that first ring of resistance. If you had been thinking at that moment — which you were obviously not — you would have begged for more fingers to prepare you for the stretch to come, but alas, Simon lost his patience as well. He is kneeling on the bed, aligned at your entrance, and pushing in the first inches with airy breaths. The pain is bearable, the stretch so sweet, and his rough hands placed just right at your hips, arching your body to meet his shallow thrusts with a delicious angle that makes you cry out. The sound of his name falling out of your pretty lips only make him snap his hips forward like a reflex, cursing again when he slides deeper inside you. A pleasured scream escapes your lips. His hold tightens on your body, fingers pressing at your fleshy parts, brows furrowed in concentration — or is it desperation?
"Fuck, you feel so bloody good..." His voice shakes as he forms the words, fucking deeper and deeper while you're just clawing at his forearms to hold onto something, anything for dear life. The pleasure almost pushes you to the edge, crying out once more when he sets an ungodly pace.
"Si-, fuck, Simon!" You scream and he moans your name back.
You meet his eyes, he meets yours.
You look at his lips.
He leans down and kisses you.
Simon wraps his hands around your body, and you wrap yours around his. His thrusts are much deeper as you wrap your legs around his hips. It's like he wants to press his shape into your body. He buries his face into the crook of your neck, breathes in your scent, grunts and pushes his cock into you so hard you forget how to form coherent sentences. Your clawing hands tremble mid-air. He feels it too.
"S- ah, fuck...!"
"You close, baby?" He purrs, and you almost think he was perfectly composed, but you hear the little cracks in his voice, feel his pace starting to become uneven.
All you can do is whine back and try to nod your head, but he knows already. Simon tries to keep himself steady, grunting and moaning about how good you feel and how good you make him feel.
"I haven't had a pussy this good in years, sweetheart... Ahhh, so good f'me. Think you can come on my cock, hmm? Cum on it while I fuck you stupid?" He bites into your neck, and you cry out. He chuckles. "Yeah, that's right. Cum for me, baby."
That's all you need to cross the finish line. Not even a second later, white hot waves of pleasure wash over your entire body, making you shake and scream in pleasure as he fucks you through your vivid orgasm. Your nails leave a deep scratch on his back, but you can't help it, it feels so good you cry tears of overstimulation.
But Simon's not done yet. He suddenly grabs your hips, lifts you up and buries himself back again while kneeling on the matress. The angle is brutal for a moment, you jolt, but he adjusts, and looking up you are met with a sight so fucking glorious you want to cum again.
You just look at his sweaty figure illuminated by the moonlight, face obscured but mash wet from your juices, muscles flexing and releasing with each thrust, you can see every last bit of his megnificent body when he spills his load inside you with a loud grunt.
He's beautiful.
Simon pants for a few seconds, then slowly sets you back onto the bed. Both of you are out of breath, worn out and sweaty, so he just plops down onto the bed beside you and stares at the ceiling. You do the same. Then you chuckle.
"Sorry I came so fast. I haven't had sex this good in quite a few years," you shake your head, smiling, and he does too.
"Yeah, it's alright, me neither. T'was fucking amazing."
He raises his hand, and a soft, satisfied smile tugs at your lips as you snuggle to his side. The moment is quiet, still, and just perfect for your fucked-out brains to start working again. And your nose too.
"I think we should shower again," you clear your throat. Simon chuckles.
"Do I smell that bad, or do you just want another round?"
That pit in your stomach ignites again.
"... Yes. But maybe a five minute recess?"
"Suit yourself, Sergeant. I'm gonna go ahead and take a nap first."
"No, Lieutenant, naps are dangerous. Enemy ahead."
"Just blow 'em up like you did with me."
You look at him bewildered. Did this man really make a dirty joke? He's grinning. You groan.
"Well, I'm heading into the shower," you say, then make a pathetic attempt at getting out of the bed. It seems that your limbs stopped working, most of them are still trembling, so you fall back onto the mattress. "... Or not."
Simon laughs, then gets up to help you to the bathroom. "Guess I'll have to come with you, then."
"Won't mind if you do," you grin back. He proceeds to smack your ass hard, and you yelp.
"Mind your tongue, Sergeant."
"Yessir."
That grin stays on your lips for the rest of the shower, though.
an: wow first time writing for COD, but i absolutely love this game. also it was phisycally so hard to write this since i just moved TWICE last week and now i'm in Portugal on a backpacking vacation. which means i don't have my laptop, so sorry for the potential mistakes and no gradients, but i hope you enjoyed it. please come back for part two — i'll make a taglist, tell me if you want to be added to it! i'll try to get it out as fast as i can. have a nice day 🩶
Silks of the finest quality, gold clinking together, gemstones flickering in the hot arabian evening. On his biceps, his wrists, his broad back, his thighs, his feet. As he danced, he moved quite strangely, but with an elegance you had never seen before. He swang and spun with the brute force of a typhoon, but leaned back and stepped so carefully and with the lighness of a feather you dared not even to breathe, fearing that you might disturb his rythm with just the sound of your breath.
You could not take your eyes off of him.
It was like he had put a spell on you, your body not even moving an inch, staying frozen at the same spot while he shifted his balance from his left leg to his right hand, keeping the sword in his mouth. Your breath hitched. You had seen him perform some surprising moves, but a handstand?
But of course, you were not alone with your eyes glued to his silhouette. And to say that Sukuna was popular was a huge understatement.
The amir that brought you and him here to parade and show off the two of you as exotic goods had dressed the curse in the best of clothes (though not much), gave him the shiniest of bracelets and anklets, and even entrusted him with a sword adorned by the most precious gems. He did not seem like a slave at all, rather a dancer with the highest pay, and a style from far and ever so exciting.
His black tattoos seemed to swallow the dim light of candles whole as the sun started setting. He pushed himself up to his feet easily, and just danced and danced to the hypnotizing music, stepping forward then back, moving his arms in a way you never thought it would be possible with a sword in it. He slashed and drew back, his eyes staying focused on his imaginary opponent, not looking at anything else.
He looked mesmerizing.
Suddenly, you were pushed from the back, and you almost tripped and fell. You looked back in surprise and anger, and saw a man – probably high ranking, judging by his expensive clothing and the intricatly adorned women surrounding him – standing before you, spouting something in his language you did not understand. He was gesturing toward the flask of nabidh left unattended by you.
And oh, then it hit you again. You were a slave.
You quickly bowed to him, hoping he’s accept your apology, while pouring the liquid into his cup, to which he made displeasing sounds, but drank it anyway. You reached for the bottle to pour him another round, when you were grasped from behind and yanked on.
You let out a surprised scream, and stumbled backwards. You expected to fall, but instead your back hit something firm, and a familiar arm wrapped around you. You looked up to see the jaws of someone, the only person you knew here.
"Come with me," was all Sukuna said, while pulling you to the cleared area at the center of the pavilion.
You panicked. "What? But I can’t dance!"
You caught a crooked smile on his lips. "I didn’t ask you to."
Before a puzzled expression could form on your face, he pushed you away. You yelped in surprise, already preparing yourself for a solid meeting with the ground, but when you were just inches away from it, a hand caught your waist. Sukuna was smiling, his red eyes flickering, eyeing your exposed form. Bastard!
As if he knew what just went through your head, he grinned openly, and yanked you upward again. You fell forward, right into his chest, and felt his hands wander on your body while gliding thought the dance floor. Your legs moved on their own, following his steps, hands and bodies interlocked. He spun you around and caught you, facing you to the audience, which was the whole hall now. Your face flushed, more so when you realized how hot Sukuna’s skin felt agains you, his abs against your back, your ass against his thighs.
However, he did not let you ponder. Sukuna spun you around one more time, facing you, and leaning down with the sword in his mouth again. Your eyes widened as you realized what he was about to do. In a swift, quick movement, you got free of his hands, and twirled around to gain distance.
If he wants war, then he gets it.
When your eyes settled on him again, he was already close to you, closer than you’d hoped. He grabbed your hips, fingers sliding around your skin, strolling around your umoving form as you froze. His lips curled into a cruel smile, letting the sword fall downwards.
You gasped when he caught it with his hand, threw it into the air, yanked you to the other side of him, and grabbed the weapon with his other hand. You were just inches away from being stabbed in the scalp. You looked at him in disbelief, then angrily, and damn, his smirk just grew wider.
You decided to take matters into your hands.
With a swift move, you attempted to sweep his legs out from under him, but he caught on and jumped back, then waltzed toward you again. You performed a hand backspring, paying extra attention on kicking him if he came too close, and started to play the part of the mouse while he chased you around the circle formed by people. With every step, swirl, and turn you got closer to the edge of the audience, nearing your escape by carefully strolling to avoid his grasping hands. You wanted to leave the dance floor, and his haste steps told you he knew that exactly.
What you did not count on was another man making an entrance.
The guy, lean and athletic, broke into the floor and swept you backwards, when you were just a few feet from getting free. He easily lifted you into the air, while taking some lazy steps back toward the center, and spun you around. You tried your best in not letting out any sound or not looking disappointed, but his full teethed smile told you he also knew what you were planning, and he had some schemes in his head you would not be happy to take part in.
The audience gasped in surprise. The man let you down, grabbed your arm and twirled you around. He included dips and quick steps which started to make you feel dizzy, and you got the impression that you were rather a ragdoll than a human being.
You could not see Sukuna, but you did feel his familiar palm on your waist a few seconds later. He spun you out of the unfamiliar man’s grasp, pressing you close to his chest. You found his eyes, and in them, saw an unfamiliar expression could have been anger, hate, hunger, pity, or even lust.
He threw you back, holding onto your hips, and you realized it was because the other man was barely an inch away from snaching you back. Sukuna grabbed the sword from his mouth with his left hand, and retreated. However, the unfamiliar guy also drew his sword, adorned with sapphires, and decided to dance across the floor following you and Sukuna. His swungs were not strong, but not harmless either – Sukuna had to let go of you once to evade a strike, and that mistake allowed his opponent to seize you back into his arms. You tried to twirl out of his hold, but he held you firmly, guiding you backwards where Sukuna could not reach you. To which the curse just grew irritated, and moved even more fiercely and more precisely. The music grew louder and picked up a pace that seemed to be impossible to follow, but both of the man managed to throw and spin you around perfectly. Their moves grew so restless that you soon failed to follow them properly, especially with being swayed around. You started to feel disoriented.
And then, you saw a chance.
The sapphire-sworded man let you go for just a blink of an eye, and you ducked out of his hold, spiraling back to Sukuna. He was just a step away, already waiting for your retreat, and as soon as you neared him, his ruby eyes lit up for the shortest moment possible.
You hated him. But for some unknown reason, he protected you.
The other man snickered, and tried to snag you back, but Sukuna gave him no chance. And soon enough, his sapphire sword danced back to its sheath, with its owner stepping back and bowing to Sukuna in respect.
The king stood next to you, with all his might, ruby-adorned blade in his hand, crimson eyes feeding on his opponen’s defeat.
With an arm wrapped around your hips.
Okay well, yappin' time! First of all, thank you for reading! Second of all, I would like to clarify that this is not part of a chapter - yet. But let me tell you about how this little scene came to existence.
So I decided to learn Arabic a few days ago. I was like, why not and - because I went to a famous choir school in my country and played the piano and sang for eight years and coped with life by listening to music and writing pathetic little oneshots, - of course, my first idea was to listen to some arabic music. That's how I found Sherine, who is an Egyptian singer, and I listened to her music - dayumm, she's really good, - specifically to the one titled Time (the fourth song from the bottom) on her 2018 album Nessay, and people. I had this vision, which I attempted to write down here. Y'all tell me if its good or if I should stop with the multi-cultural fanfic cuz it's gotten to the point where I have too many ideas. (Also I felt like a pinaist typing this out ngl.)
But on a more serious note, this is what to expect when I really get into the story properly.
There is a chance of me posting things like this in the near future cuz I cannot contain myself for my sake. So please let me know in the comments - did you like it?
See you next Thursday in the next chapter of Cry, Baby.
Still thinking about Sukuna just swirling around in nothing but a silk thong and pretty jewels on his body with a sword and like. THAT MAN. I can't wait to actually write him this way 😩🙏👌🩷
I feel like nobody sees these announcements, but anyway.
I am very much in the middle of moving right now, so I won't be active for the next couple of days. Sorry about CB - I'll post as soon as I have the time to review the next chapter.
In the meantime, pray for my soul in this huge ass heatwave 🙏🙏
gojo satoru x fem!reader - geto suguru x fem!reader
synopsis: you are very much in love with Geto, but is it mutual? not really. however, you do find one to spend some time with... and now, your husband is pissed.
cw: really fucking toxic Geto, MDNI! implication of SA, implication of non-con, abuse, voilence,
song rec: emily jeffri - WHERE ARE THEY NOW??? for Geto's first and secnd part || ODIE - Miss Summer for Gojo' part || Chinozo - Good-bye Declaration for the last (sweet) part <3
an: guys this completely spiraled out of my control and got really ugly. read this at your own risk please. (the ending is cute tho)
dividers by @cursed-carmine @strangergraphics
read part one here!
Suguru Geto turned the engine down, got out of his car, walked into his house and put down his keys on the nearest shelf.
He then smashed in the hall's mirror.
He looked at his shattered reflection: eyes wide, teeth out, face contorted, brows knotted. His knuckle was bleeding, but the pain he felt was nothing compared to the shame that now stuck to his name.
How dare she.
After he had given you everything. He sacrificed his life just so you could be with him. He have you his name, his wealth, his good years, his chance to get married, and for what? For you to cheat on him in the first few months of your marriage.
That bitch. Slut. Ungrateful whore.
He glared into his own eyes, and collected himself. His expression eased, mouth pressed into a thin line, knuckles relaxed and went limp beside his body.
Only the look in his eyes could have told you that something was wrong. Very wrong.
Geto inhaled loudly, and turned his back to the ruined mirror.
He was going to make you regret what you did.
That night, when you snuggled into Satoru's warm brace in his bed that smelled like him, you realized you had never felt truly safe before.
Hearing the way his breath slowed down, feeling his chest rise and fall, the muscles in his arms softening alongside his features. You wanted to cry, to thank fate or whoever was moving the threads that you could be here with him and experience all these things you were so, so deprived of.
You felt guilty for the first few minutes. You had been in love with Geto since you were little children. You gave him all those things he never bothered to appreciate. But Satoru? Satoru appreciated you. He adored you, he liked you, and he took care of you, your feelings and your needs.
You felt seen with him.
You did not feel seen with Geto.
You lulled yourself to sleep without an ounce of regret in your heart. after all, you grieved enough for your doomed relationship. Maybe it was time to begin a new, promising one.
When you awoke, Satoru was no longer in bed with you. You panicked for a second, but then you felt the sweet scent of something cooking in the kitchen.
You yawned, trying to pry your eyes open, then stood up wobbily. You hissed when a malevolent headache attacked you. Okay, maybe you shouldn't have drunk that much last night.
The memories flooded into your mind, and you welcomed them with a small smile on your lips.
Last night was good.
You opened the door and walked to the kitchen to see Satoru standing at the stove, holding a ladle filled with pancake batter, and in his other hand, an empty saucepan. His face was focused, his hari was messy, and his pajamas seemed to be two sizes bigger than what he'd ideally wear. Your smile grew wider.
You tip-toed to him and hugged him from behind. "Good morning, handsome" you murmured into his back.
"Good morning, sleeping beauty," he hummed, and raised his hand to make the next pancake. "I took the initiative and made you breakfast. I know you like pancakes."
"You're handsome and attentive? I should have married you, Satoru," you chuckled and let go of him to raid the plate that was racked with your breakfast. "Thanks."
"Anytime."
"Do you have peach jam? Or strawberry?"
"Both. Top shelf in the fridge."
"Ooh, that's good. Come to mommy, delicious little jammies."
You reached into the fridge while Satoru giggled. You put some milk and cocoa powder on the table along with spoons and two mugs, then waited for him to finish pouring the batter.
"Don't wait for me, start eating. I'm not a fan of breakfast," Satoru said while putting the bowls under some water to rinse them.
"No, you have to eat with me! Please! I hate eating alone."
"I'll sit with you."
"Nooo," you whined, and Satoru couldn't help but picture a toddler instead of a young woman in her early twenties. He chuckled. "Just have a bite, at least! Please?"
Satoru turned to politely decline - and that was his mistake.
He froze. You had deployed your irresistible puppy eyes.
The poor man stared at you for a few seconds before he himself started whining like a child.
"But nooo, I don't like eating breakfast..."
"Just have a bite, you won't regret it!"
"Noooo..."
"Yeees!"
"Noooooo..."
"Pleeeeease...?"
"You're so unfair," he whimpered, but took a seat next to you. Your face lit up, and he already knew he wouldn't regret that bite, because it made you smile.
You let out a happy squeal, and filled your pancake with peach jam and gave it a little twist with the cocoa powder. You then held it to Satoru's mouth. "Say 'aaah!'"
"Aaah," he obediently opened his mouth, and took a bite of the pancake. A strange taste unraveled in his mouth, and at first, it was too much for him, but as he started to chew, he made a pleased sound. "It's not that bad," he admitted. You took a bite of the pancake, too.
"See? Told ya," you grinned, mouth stuffed.
Satoru just smiled.
A calm silence fell on the room as you munched on your breakfast. Satoru couldn't help but steal as many glances of you as he could. You were in his shirt, hair messy, face clear of any makeup. You felt at ease, and he did, too.
He wished you two would have moments like this together for a long time to come.
You started humming along to a song playing in your head. You were so carefree and occupied with making new pancakes, that you never even noticed Satoru's lingering gaze.
The moment eventually drifted away when you finished downing your food, and started to clear the table. You put the jams away alongside the remaining pancakes. You wanted to load the dishwasher, but Satoru stopped you.
A different silence fell on the room.
"I should head back now, shouldn't I," you allowed yourself a small, sad smile.
"Yeah," Satoru said, gently taking your arm. "But... can I see you tomorrow?"
"I hope so. I still have my hands full with the company we have to run together, and I want to keep a low profile, but... I want to be with you."
The hopeful light in your eyes made Satoru's heart skip a beat.
"I want that too," he whispered back.
Satoru pulled you closer, and leaned down gently to give you a kiss. You closed your eyes to savour the moment, to remember the warmth of his lips, his arms, the way he smelled.
You guessed that even if Geto found out about your affair with Satoru, he wouldn't care. But you were not going to tell him you're sleeping with another man up-front. Keeping your mouth shut about it seemed to be the best possible option for all of you.
After your breakfast, you dressed back into your dirty clothes - vowing to yourself to take a shower as soon as you got home - Satoru walked you to his car and drove you back home. Not quite to your house, as you asked him to drop you off a few streets before so you could make it seem like you took the bus and walked the rest home.
Before you got out of the car, you gave him a long, passionate kiss that left him panting and speechless. You smiled at him and closed the door.
After a few minutes of walking, you reached your gates. You went in, pushed the door open and took off your shoes.
You stopped in your movement when you glanced to the left. Where's the mirror?
You noticed a small glass shard on the floor.
All the hairs in your neck stood up. Why did the mirror break? Did Geto break it? If so, why? Was it just an accident?
Does he know?
You grabbed your phone to text Satoru. Only then did you notice that Geto messaged you a few times, asking where you were and if you were okay. You tried to ignore them as you typed in a short message about the situation, but before you could have sent a second one, you were interrupted.
"Welcome home, darling."
Your heart skipped a beat, and you turned to see Geto standing in front of his bedroom door.
You were about to greet him varily, when you remembered that as far as he probably knows, you ran away upon learning that he was cheating on you.
You are the harmed party here.
You turned back to strip of your other shoe, putting away your phone. Everything should be fine as long as you play your role.
"Hi," you said, voice cold.
"Where have you been last night?" Geto asked, and you wanted to scoff. Getting myself a man that would kiss and fuck me, you replied in your head, but held yourself back.
"Why do you care?"
"You're my wife," he told you like you were a kindergardener. Anger started to build up in you. "Of course I care."
"Yeah? Say that to Shoko, or whoever you're sleeping with right now," you spat back while pushing past him to get to your room. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to take a shower. I had a long night."
You were about to close the door - and lock it shut - but he caught it with his hand. You looked at him warningly.
"Oh, I bet you did."
"What's that supposed to mean?" You questioned. A small smile formed on his lips.
"You know what I mean, sweetheart."
Geto pushed the door open, forcing you to step back into the room. But instead of leaving you alone, he kept going, until your back hit a wall.
"I'll ask you again." You could hear the forced calmness in his tone. "Where were you last night?"
"At a friend's place," you lied, trying to think of a way out.
You finally noticed his bandaged fist.
Shit.
"You know, I've always told you that lying is not one of your greatest feats," Geto tilted his head and leaned down to you. You were met with his ice-cold gaze, and a shiver went up your spine. You had never seen him like that before. "You're really suck at it."
"Step back, Geto," you warned him. He didn't move.
"After everything I did for you and your desperate family. I married you. You should be happy with me," he sighed, and your heart sank. No. "Instead, you whore yourself around and get fucked by another man. You betray me."
If you weren't genuenly scared of him right now, you were sure you would've laughed into his face.
"After everything you did for me? What do you exactly mean by that, dear husband?" You smiled anxiously. You told yourself that you have to have the upper hand, or else, this is going to end real bad - but really you were just angry. "You mean makig me play make-believe for years, then shelving me and go around cheating when we actually get married? Is that what you mean?"
"Do not talk to me like that."
"Then stop preteding-"
Geto grabbed your arm and slammed you back to the wall. It was painful enough to make you realize that you cannot have the upper hand here.
Now you were scared.
Geto was fuming, holding onto your arm and squeezing it painfully. You flinched.
"Geto-"
Slap.
You looked to his left in shock.
He just slapped you.
"Shut up," he snarled, baring his teeth at you. What you saw then you dared to look back at his contorted face was not your childhood friend, and not the uncaring husband you had married. No, what you saw was a powerful man whose pride was hurt.
And right now, there was nothing more dangerous than him.
Your legs started shaking. Suddenly, all your fight instincts turned into flight mode, the blood drained from your face and eyes widened. The initial shock turned into fear and made you freeze in your spot.
"I married you because your family had a good deal, and you seemed to be a simple woman. Head-over-heels for me. It would have been so good if you just kept your head down and mouth shut. You were supposed to stay put and under the radar, not going out and fucking a colleague! Are you that dumb?!"
"Geto, please," you were sobbing now.
"I said shut THE FUCK UP!" He's lost it completely, you could tell. Shouting and grabbing you so hard that his knuckles whitened and your arm hurt really badly. "I gave you a perfect fucking opportunity to live a good and quiet life, just like you wanted, and you do this?"
He then suddenly stopped.
You swallowed.
"Oh, wait, I see now," his voice was quiet again, and you didn't understand why, only a second later. "You want me to fuck you."
All of the blood drained from your face.
No.
"No," you bluntly said. But his expression didn't change.
"No, I see it now. You just need a dick to ride and then you'll stay where you belong."
Your brain almost didn't process your body moving when he dragged you to the bed. "My parents have been nagging me about a grandchild anyway. The company needs an heir. I wanted to wait a bit, but if you keep up this behaviour..."
You were about to start screaming for help when the front door slammed open. And a second later, you saw Satoru standing in the doorway.
Not for long though.
"You...!"
He darted into the room and body-slammed Geto to the floor. "You fucking asshole!" He shouted and punched Geto in the face.
"Get off of me!" Geto screamed.
You were absolutely horrified by this point. You didn't try to get between their fists, you knew you had no chance, you rather ran to your phone and called the police. Glass and furniture shattered, blood was splattered on the floor, shouting and groaning was all that could be heard in the room. You were crying, trying to do something to cease their fighting, yelling at them to stop, but nothing worked.
"How dare you lay a hand on her?!" Satoru screamed at Geto. He slammed him into the cabinet, sending glass and porcelain flying. But Geto got out of his hold and kicked him to the floor.
"She's mine, I do the fuck I want with her," he snarled back while punching him in the ribs. Satoru's lungs emptied, but he sucked in a breath and rolled Geto off of him to go back to punching him.
The police arrived in a flash, but it still took sic officers to separate Geto and Satoru. You cried even harder when you saw how beat up the white-haired man was. You ran to him.
"Satoru..."
"'S alright, baby, I'll handle that fucker. I already called my lawyer," he assured you with a challenging grin, his mouth still bleeding, face puffed up. He then turned to Geto and shouted, "You're gonna rot in Hell, I'll make sure of that."
"Good luck, asshole," he snapped.
"Go fuck yourself," you said then. "I'm filing for divorce and I'm taking the company with me."
"Enough," said one of the officers, and signaled the other policemen to escort the shouting Geto out of the room. The black haired boy then turned to Satoru. "Gojo, I owe you one, but are you sure you want to do this?"
"Don't worry, Megumi. I got his ass," Satoru said confidently. You were surprised he knew the officer by name, and the other two as well, seeing that they let go of him.
"Well, good luck. Nanami is waiting for you outside."
The officer - Megumi, despite being a man - turned to give you a court nod, then left the room with the other two officers. You looked at Satoru.
"What was that about?"
"Truth be told, ever since I had my eyes on you, I knew that guy was up to no good," Satoru scratched his head, then hissed in pain.
"Satoru, you need to get treated, let's go outside."
"No, wait."
Satoru gently grabbed your arm. You flinched when he touched the part Geto held you by. He pulled his hand back immediately.
His eyes darkened.
"Did he do that to you?"
Tears swelled in your eyes. "Yeah..."
"I'll never let him get near you ever again" he said, his tone so serious and firm that it sounded more like a pact than a promise. He reached out ot you to stroke your hair. "I'm so sorry I didn't get here sooner."
"No, thank you for coming, I... if you hadn't come..." your breath hitched as you tried to hold back the tears. He pulled you into a soft, protective embrace. It made you feel safe.
"It's alright now, love. You'll be alright," he said while patting your hair. He let you cry on his chest, even though every secod part of his body was aching terribly.
A few minutes later, you were disturbed by one of the police officers coming in to let you know that they had to take both of you to the police station. Thanks to Satoru's favorable relationship with - apparently - the whole damn police station, they put the two of you into the same car.
You just happened to see Geto being taken away in another car.
"Hey, look at me, sweetheart."
You turned your head to look at Satoru.
He was still in a bad shape, despite being patched up by the medics before he had to get into the car.
You looked deeply into those cerulian eyes.
"We're gonna be fine."
You smiled. Because what you saw here was not empty promises and a facade you would be forced to keep up.
No. You saw a man who would keep all his promises.
"I know."
The hot summer day was absolutely unbearable, especially with a little live radiator in your hands.
"Mommy, I want ice cream..." he said, and you smiled.
"You just had ice cream an hour ago, Kenji. We're going home to get lunch."
"I want ice cream too," wailed Riko, his little sister.
"Ah, you're right, kids, ice cream does sound good..." Satoru said while adjusting his daughter - your daughter - in his hold. "Honey, can't we just get some more? It's really hot..."
"We'll get home in a few minutes, get yourself together, you three," you giggled, while patting your son's head. He grumbled.
"But I want it now..."
"You can have some after lunch, okay?"
"But that's a long time, mommy..."
"I want strawberry flavour!" Your daughter perked up, so fast that Satoru almost dropped her.
"Ah, slow down, Riko!" Your husband exclaimed while quickly regaining his balance.
"Satoru, if you drop her again..."
"I won't, I won't!" He panicked, and instead tried to put his daughter down, but Riko would not have it. She started crying as soon as her feet touched the ground. "Ah, you women! Why is it so hard with you?"
"Daddy, pick me up, too!" Kenji shouted and tried to wiggle his way out of your arms, which made you drop your grocery bag.
"Kenji, stop!"
"Daddy!"
"Honey..!"
"Riko!"
"Ice creeeeeeeam!"
aaand this is the end of the abuse, people! thank you all for reading part one and following along to the second as well. please let me know if you liked it, and have a nice day!✨
(i'm gonna need some therapy after the geto part. i'm a monster ik)
geto suguru x fem!reader - gojo satoru x fem!reader
synopsis: you are very much in love with Geto, but is it mutual? not really. however, you do find one to spend some time with...
cw: sad sad unrequited love, mental breakdown, MDNI! smut, unprotected sex, piv sex, choking, having a real bad ending
song rec: Lana del Rey - Cherry for the beginning | Rihanna - Breakin' Dishes for the spicy part
dividers by @cursed-carmine @enchanthings @strangergraphics
enjoy <3
You were in love with Geto ever since you could remember your own name. His soft smile, his thin eyes, his black locks. The way he carried himself, the way he laughed, the way he helped you down the stairs, the way he said your name - you were in love with everything about him.
The first time you noticed that it wasn't as mutual was when you both turned thirteen. He had given an other girl a flower - the same kind he gave you just an hour earlier, but in a different colour. Yours was yellow, hers was red. By the time you celebrated your sixteenth birthday, it was evident for you that you had no chance with him. He always hung around other girls, gave them small gifts and smiles he gave you too. But they weren't as bright, not as radient, and certainly not exclusive.
That night, you cried yourself to sleep. You grieved for the love you never had for months, hell, years. But you never gave up. You always gave him the widest smiles, the warmest hugs, your deepest thoughts, your everything. A piece of your soul, your mind, your heart.
And your prayers seemed to be answered one day.
You were going to marry him. You were not stupid - it was a tactical move. Your family had the successful company, his family had the money to broaden it. But still, walking down the aisle, you were the happiest woman alive. You picked out a dress you knew he would like, carried a bouquet of his favourite flowers, said all the right words and didn't mind how his fingers only faintly traced the outline of your waist while he pulled you into the softest kiss you had ever seen him give anyone. You stayed by his side for the wedding, smiled at him, laughed at his funny remarks, looked at him like he was God himself. You left him alone when he asked you to, and only felt a little disappointed when he said he wasn't in the mood for consummating the marriage on your wedding night.
You told yourself you were happy.
But a breaking point came at last.
You saw him hold another woman. Kiss another woman. And when you questioned him, all he could say was:
"Sorry, dear. It was never going to work out from the beginning anyway."
And oh, how right he was.
He didn't stop you when you made your way out of the house. You never looked back, but you couldn't have looked anywhere from the tears flooding your eyes at the first place. You walked out thought the gates and into the forest you had only been in a couple of times, into the dusk you thought to be so pretty, but now you found so painful.
Your marriage was doomed. Your family wouldn't want you back, you were only collateral, cattle to trade for money. And here you were, in your early twenties, with no friends, no family, not even acquaintances, no one at all-
Your ears perked up. You heard shouting, and your body stiffened. You just realized how stupid and dangerous it was to run into an uncontrolled forest at night, alone.
"-you here somewhere?! Please, answer me!"
Someone was shouting your name.
At first, you didn't recognize the voice, but after a few lines, you knew exactly who was looking after you. And you were genuenly surprised by yourself when you stood up and answered.
"Hey! I'm over here!"
You heard a sequence of "oh thank god"s and curse words coming your way, along with some light footsteps, and just minute later you were met with a flashlight.
"Gojo?" You asked cautiously. You heard a sigh of relief.
"Yeah, little miss runaway. Are you alright?" He asked while kneeling beside you.
You were about to say 'yes' out of second nature, but you stopped. Tears were flooding your eyes again. "No..."
"Are you injured?" Gojo asked varily. You shook your head no. "Then...?"
"He doesn't love me," you sobbed, hugging your knees to your torso. "I don't even know if he likes me. I caught him with someone else and he didn't even try to explain."
"That prick..."
"I mean I knew I never had a shot with him, but... After we were wed, I thought that maybe... Maybe we could have something..."
You felt a hand on your back. Gojo rubbed soothing circles into your skin while you cried to him. He held you through your breakdown and murmured soft nothings into your ear. You didn't even hear half of it thanks to your loud sobbing and hiccups, but it did its think to slowly calm your mind.
It took you half an hour to cry out all your tears, and when you were done, you felt empty. The kind of empty you had always felt your heart be, because your devotion was never reciprocated, only stronger this time. Something broke in you that night.
"We should go now," Gojo said quietly, and it hit you then.
You'll have to go back to Geto. To your shared house. To your shared bed.
"I don't want to," you whined, but let Gojo help you up.
"I know. But what if I told you I happen to have some very good alcohol and sushi at my place?"
You snapped his head to look at him. The candle didn't do his expression justice, but those iridescent blue eyes were so deep with comfort, calm, and attachment that your breath stopped for a second.
You thought you had no friends left, but maybe you were wrong.
"That sounds good," you murmured. You tried your best not to trip on the roots and plants in front of you. "But if you take me there, I'm gonna get absolutely hammered. This is your chance to back out."
"Noted, princess." You didn't see, but you did hear his signature grin. That pulled a smile on your lips. "Good thing I'm ready for anything you throw my way."
"You better." There was a bit of silence before you spoke again. "How did you know I was in here?"
Gojo tensed up for a second. "I had a bad feeling. You didn't answer my texts, so I came to check on you. I was told you were seen running outside. Been searching for a bit when I found you."
"I'm sorry for causing you trouble. Don't bother with me, though, I'm fine on my own."
"Like hell you are," he scoffed. You two neared the end of the forest, and soon you were walking to his car.
You couldn't help but glance at your bedroom window. The lights were on, but there was no movement.
Better than seeing someone else in there with your so-called husband.
"You know what? Fuck him, honestly."
Gojo slammed his nth drink onto the table and leaned back. "You're fuckin' right."
"He never even slept with me," you fumed, downing another shot of horrible vodka, and Gojo's mouth opened in shock.
"You're kiddin'."
"'M not."
"But your wedding night..."
"Mr. Perfect said he 'wasn't in the mood," you scoffed. "Fucking prick. Pretty sure he fucked his way through high school though."
You drew quotes in the air, and reached for the bottle, but Gojo slapped your hands away. "I got this."
"He never even kissed me properly!" You threw your hands in the air and raised your voice. "I mean, 'm I so ugly or what? Do I look bad? Or do I have bad breath or sumthin'?"
"No, he's just a fucker," Gojo said with the same tone. "'f I was the one marrying you, I'd be throwin' myself at your feet ev'ry day and kissin' your ass properly."
"Swear ta' God. Pour me 'nother," you told him, and Gojo happily obliged. You let your gaze linger on his face for longer this time, studying his features. "Ya know, you're a nice guy. I've know ya for years and you've always been one."
"To nice guys, then," he raised his glass and clinked it to yours. Vodka spilled on your arms, but you licked it off without a care in the world. "He's unincluded."
"Damn right he is."
You drank your shots quickly and put the glass on the table. You felt your head reeling, the sensation of heartbreak turning into something sharp inside you. "I should just do what he does ta' me. Go 'round cheatin' with other guys. That's what he deserves anyway."
Gojo leaned back and exhaled loudly. "Throwin' away a trophy like you. Fucking idiot."
Suddenly, something clicked in your head.
"Gojo."
You said. Warningly. Firmly. Dangerously.
He snapped his head at your direction, just in time to see you standing up. Noticing how your hips swayed, how your thighs moved, how your entire body language changed.
"Yeah?" He managed to get out, voice raspy and uncertain.
"Gojo," you repeated, much more a statement than just his name.
He swore the room became at least a hundred degrees hotter.
You slowly passed by the small table and went straight to the couch he was sitting on. You sat down beside him, not breaking eye contact by even a blink.
He gulped and said your name in response.
That was all you needed.
You latched onto his lips like a starved woman - which you were. Starved for attention, love, a man, a good fuck. Something you hadn't gotten in years. Something you knew Gojo could and would give you. And you were right when you heard him let out a surprised yelp, but he still opened up his mouth for you and intertwined your tongues.
You let out a content huff, crawling closer to him, not even letting the man breathe. Your hands wandered through his body, exploring his neck, chest, refined torso. But before you could have gone lower, you were yanked into his lap and felt just how much he thought this was a good idea. You both moaned into each others mouths - Gojo of the friction, you because of the anticipation - and continued the sloppy war of mouths and teeth. His hands trailed down to your ass, grabbing a handful of them and playing with them. You softly yanked at his hair to trail down to his neck with your mouth.
Gojo started whimpering, hips bucking up to meet your lap. You could feel his growing erection in his pants, and it didn't take long for you to unbuckle his belt and free his aching cock.
Your breath hitched.
He was long.
And by long, you meant so long that you were not sure where all that length was going to go. His shaft was long and lean, just like the man himself.
But you didn't have any more time to admire his member, because now Gojo took the initiative and bit down on your neck.
"Eyes up here, princess," he said, and you chuckled.
"Very fu- ah!"
You didn't expect him to jam his hand up your shirt and under your bra to grab your left boob, then sqeeze it. Your lips parted. Gojo's mouth was pressed into a half-sided smile.
"You have no idea how long I was dreaming about this."
You looked at him surprised, then inhaled sharply when he started playing with one of your nipple. "You're crying about that fucker not giving you love, but you haven't even noticed me. How I've been eyeing you since the first day you stepped into the office in those pretty fucking heels and short skirt," he planted a kiss on your neck, then bit again. Your hips snapped forward, colliding with his leaking tip. "You have no idea I've been fucking you in my head for years, have you? You're so occupied by chasing a good-for-nothing cheater that you don't even think about anyone else."
You were suddenly thrown at the couch, back pressing into the cushions as Gojo towered above you.
And his eyes. Oh, his eyes.
He wants to devour you.
His cock twitched as he looks you up and down, and you were absolutely flushed. More so when Gojo almost ripped your jeans and panties off and locked his mouth on your dripping cunt. You gasped for air, and grabbed his hair to find something, anything to hold onto while he ate you out like he's never had a meal this good before. You moan and mewl when he runs his tongue around your swollen clit.
"G-Gojo, please," you whimpered, and he looked up at you.
"Fuckin' delicious," he growled, diving back into your pussy and licking at your sensitive spots so well you already felt yourself ready for more.
"Gojo," you threw your head back in pleasure. "Please, Gojo...!"
"What's it, baby? What do you want?"
"Please- ah! Please, more!" You managed to stutter out, legs shaking, fingers twitching in his hair. He smiles.
"What more? More of my tongue?"
"N-No... Your... Ah! Gojo...!"
"Come on, baby, I can't hear you," he mused.
Your eyes widened as you felt one of his fingers enter your hole.
"F-Fuck!" You cried out helplessly. Gojo just let out a low chuckle, and started pumping slowly, but deeply.
"Gotta prepare you for this cock, sweetheart. Can't have you back out right now."
You gasped for air again as he added a second digit. Gojo set a mean pace, ramming his fingers into your needy hole while continuing to suck at your clit. Now your head was not only reeling because of the alcohol, no - the man who you thought was a kind coworker, a good friend, a good guy was finger-fucking you mercilessly on his couch.
"Fuck, you're so wet. Think you can handle me now, baby?" He asked, voice so gruffy it sent a new knot into your stomach.
"Yes, yes! Please, please, Gojo...!"
"Satoru," he corrected you, and pulled out his fingers. You felt empty, whined at the cold sensation.
"Satoru," you repeated mindlessly. He looked at the hot mess he created beneath him, and grinned.
"Look at you. You're married to that dick and still I'm gonna be the one to fuck you, not him," he rumbled.
That statement somehow got you out of your cockdrunk mindset, and you were about to start thinking straight again, when he sank into you.
Holy shit.
The tip alone was stretching you out more than you would've thought. Satoru let out a long, deep moan, so hot that you instantly grew more wet. He started with shallow thrusts until your nails no longer dug into his biceps, and your mouth had fallen agape from the pleasure he was giving you. He bit his lip in concentration, looking at you like you were a three-star Michelin dish.
"S'it any good?"
"Yeeeesss," you somehow dragged the word down your tongue, even though you already felt it hard to process whole sentences.
"Good. Then hold on, baby."
Satoru then bottomed out, and your eyes rolled back. It was too much - he was too big, pounding at your cervix with each mean thrust, and you were torn between pain and pleasure. It took him a minute to find a good angle, but when he did, you could not hold yourself back anymore.
You shamefully screamed at the way he dragged along your gummy walls again, again, again, hitting every single point just right, his hips snapping at the bottom of your ass. His living room was filled with obscene sounds, skin slapping on skin, you crying his name and him moaning into your neck. Your nails scraped at his broad back, but this time, it was from pure bliss.
"Shit, sweetheart, you feel so good," he whispered. You heard that he was having a hard time holding back. And you were not here for some casual sex.
"Ah, Satoru... Harder... Fuck me harder!"
He snapped.
Satoru set an ungodly pace and now you were literally screaming. His cock rammed into your insides mercilessly, not having any intention of sparing whatever sensation was coming your way. In and out, in and out, you could barely keep up with his speed, your moans now blurring into one instead of several small ones. He groaned so loudly you thought you were going to cum right then and there, and his hand on your throat and voice only set fire to your burning knot. He fucked you right into hus leather couch with no problem, so hard you thought you were going to fall into pieces.
"Ah, fuck, fuck, fuck, shit, you're so thight I could cum right now," he cried now, too, throwing his head back, and by God he was sexy. "You close, princess?"
"Ahhhh, uh-huh," was all you managed to get out before you went back to mewling. The hand on your neck tightened.
"Can I cum inside you? Will you let me?"
"Yees!"
"Don't- ah, fucking hell, I can't hold back, you're so good!"
You reached your peak without warning. The waves of pleasure hit you harder than a freight train, rippling through your trembling and screaming body as you came on Satoru's cock. Your back arched into his body, nails breaking skin and eyes rolled all the way back into your skull, and he was quick to follow you. He let out another loud moan, and heroically fucked you through your orgasm before he himself spilled his hot load inside you wile shouting your name.
When you came down, you both were panting heavily. Satoru was barely holding himself up above you, his cock still lodged in your filled cunt. You gulped hard when you saw that it was still half-hard when he pulled out, letting his milk flow onto the couch.
"Fuuuuuck," he sighed.
"Yeah," you muttered.
Satoru managed to fetch a few napkins. You would've asked for a warm washcloth, but he was absolutely wrecked, just like you.
"You alright?"
"Oh, definitely I am," he replied wile eagerly nodding his head. He lazily plopped down beside you, and put his arms around you. You were surprised by the sudden warmth, but you shyly snuggled up to his chest.
You guessed you wouldn't have to be shy around him anymore, though.
On the other side of the table, your phone's screen lit up. But as you cuddled into Satoru's welcoming embrace, it went unnoticed by you.
Just like the black Audi slowly pulling out from his driveway, with your husband in the driver's seat.
am i the only one here who accidentally posts things? istg i didn't post this on purpose, i couldn't even format it properly. i'm starting to think that my drafts section is hijacked.
anyway this is my first ever long smut scene. i would have never guessed it would be with gojo, as i don't particularly love him or write with him, but damn this role fit him so much.
have a wonderful day 🩵
read part two here >>
Good morning everyone! It is I, DFroggofArson, I just grew a bit tired of the username and picture and theme and all. I've had this for three years, and I feel like I grew and changed a lot since.
A bit about my new username: naturally, I went to Pinterest for a change. There I found two names I liked, Raina and Avalon, ans I wanted a mixture of both, but all those seemed to be lame or taken. So then my boyfriend suggested 'Ty' as a sort of prefix "in honor of Tyr," and I was like. Hell yeah. That's what my Norse ass needs.
(I doubt I have any Norse heritage.)
Anyway, that's all to it, really. I like purple and white and black and gray, so those are gonna be my theme colours from now on. And thanks to @adornedwithlight's super good tutorial, I can now make ✨gradient texts✨
Oh and one more thing. I feel like I haven't really written anything - so I'm planning on spitting out a few oneshots, but also a little mini-series. (No I cannot not do mini-series. I'm sorry.) Soo thanks for your attention and see you all in a few days! 🩶
the only drawback to making kento a father is the lack of 'alone time' you now get.
he was made to be a dad, there’s no doubt about it. he’s the perfect contender, stern but patient and understanding and so infatuated with fatherhood that you almost don’t mind the nightly interruptions.
almost. the sound of little padding footsteps leading up to your closed bedroom door gives you a trauma response now. how your husband can hold himself above you, inches away from dipping inside your sweet center, and still remain kind-eyed and cheery when your daughter starts banging on the shut door to be let in is beyond you.
he's a good man. you hate him for it.
maybe you just need sex. you've been deprived of your husband's body for so long that you're going stir crazy, in a sense. he did marry you with a vow of servitude, after all.
thank god for takuma and his wide eyes. he looks like a deer in headlights as he stands at your front door, a huge bag of toys and snacks and just-in-case diapers in one hand and your daughters tiny hand wrapped around two fingers of his other hand. she beams up at uncle ino, ready to spend a night away from home (and get unreasonably spoilt in the process).
"no snacks after her teeth are brushed. and she's developed a penchant for climbing—don't let her do that. and if she comes home with even a mark, ino, i will be breaking each and every last one of your bones, starting with the toes and moving upwards until i reach your—"
"i think he gets the point, love," you place a gentle hand on your husbands tense bicep. "please stop threatening to snap takuma's bones."
ino, who is probably going over his last will and testament in his head, forces a grin. "loud and clear, she's safe with me."
"mhm," your husband can only eye him for so long before your daughter is tugging uncle ino away and leaving the two of you in the foyer.
finally alone. just you, your husband, and his teething paranoia. he's darting to the front window and peeking through it like a yappy dog would as their owner leaves. it’s cute. you feel bad for the future-teenage version of your daughter, who will have to deal with a man like kento nanami as her father. but now she’s just a baby and in the safe (albeit shaky) care of uncle ino, and you are vying for an orgasm or six.
“ken, honey."
his eyes are stuck outside.
"kento."
still stuck. you never thought the other woman would be sporting butterfly clips and drool as a statement piece.
"oh my fucking god kento nanami if you do not fuck me right now i will take that little sword of yours and stick it so far up your— oh hi."
he's standing in front of you before you know it, with your face held firmly in his hands and an awfully stern look on his face.
"my love," he drags his thumb from your cheek, down to your bottom lip. "first of all, i have every intention of ravaging you until you're so full of me that you don't have the mind to beg for more. and second, it's more of a cleaver than a sword."
"okay nerd," you pull your man into a deep kiss, one much more intimate than you've been allowing yourself of late. kento takes the lead easily, slipping his tongue past your lips in a way he'd never dare to do over the breakfast table.
before you can register your movements, the two of you are stumbling like drunk teens up to your bedroom, a garment of clothing lost with each step to the door. you loosen your husbands tie and drop it to the ground, and he manages to unclasp your bra just as his back hits the bed and you're falling on top of him in a mess of gross kisses and shared laughter.
it's sweet, until kento tires of the homely teasing and flips you over to press his heavy body (and even heavier cock, it seems) against yourself. your legs part naturally, as they will ever do for the man you love, and kento trails kiss after kiss from your neck all the way down to the dripping mess of your cunt.
when he latches his lips to your clit you gasp and shoot your hand down to his hair. he loves it being pulled, admitted to you after a drink too many that he finds in degrading in a way that is only pleasurable coming from you: he's sensitive to that sort of stuff, so you tug lightly at his blond locks until your fingers snag against something hard.
"what's in your hair?" you manage between moans as ken savours his most favourite meal.
he pulls away for a second, resting his cheek against your parted (and already shaky) thigh as you comb through his hair with your fingers once more and pullout not one, but two hot pink butterfly clips that you were looking for only this morning.
"oh," your husband smiles when he sees them. "i got a princess makeover last night. i stopped her before she could go looking for makeup but she did manage to find those."
"they suit you," you smile, and clip them back into his hair. it look silly, but it keeps his hair from sticking to his forehead in the heat of things, so you look past the glitter. "you're a good dad, you know?"
kento presses a kiss to your clit, which has your breath hitch in your throat, before rising up to climb over you once again. his cock is heavy and pulsing with heat as it rests against you, but ken denies himself for a moment in favour of pressing a very sweet kiss to your lips. you can taste yourself on his smile.
"thank you for making me a dad," he kisses your cheek next, and then your forehead. "and thank you for everything else you have given me in our marriage."
"all those orgasms..." you muse, which earns you a small laugh from your lover.
"oh indeed," he reaches down and lines himself up with you. "you always know just how to set the mood. very sentimental, you are."
"it's what you married me for," you lift your hips a little to help your husband in. "isn't it? you just love the way i—oh god, ken."
he pushes into you niiice and slow, feeling the way you stretch around him. it's been a while, so the usual ache of accommodating his unfair size is more of a burn this time through, but kento's lips against your neck are a nice distraction. he's slow and sweet and so in love with you that you can feel it in the way he fills you up. or maybe you're just delusional from the dick.
"love the way you feel," he finishes your sentence. drawing his hips back only a little to get you used to his movements, he presses his next kiss to your shoulder. "love the way you look."
"you don't need to flatter me. you're already inside of me."
kento bites the skin of your shoulder and picks up the pace to really start fucking you. "love the way you can take a compliment without being a smartass about it."
"god, kento," you can only manage a few words before he's adjusting his thrusts to brush against your g spot with each movement in and out. "it's so much."
"i love how well you take me," he goes on. "i love your heart. and i love your body. and i love your idiotic jokes. and i love how you smell."
"ken..."
"and i love—" kento runs a hand down your left arm to take your hand in his, bringing your knuckles up to his lips before pressing a long kiss to your wedding band "—how i'm all yours."
not his, yours. he's made it very clear since your first date (which was more of a study-situation than anything, that he is all yours. your property. your lover. your shoulder to cry on and your life partner and the man who would burn down cities for you and your kid.
and the only man who could fill you this deep and still be romantic about it. he fucks you like that until your legs are locked around his waist and you're begging him to fill you up with his load.
and of course he obliges, because anything you ask for he will give you enthusiastically. he rubs your clit until you're blanking on your own name and cumming in beautiful synchronisation with him. kento spills deep inside of you with a breathy groan and even then still manages to fuck you through your orgasm until he's softening inside of you and you're trying ultra hard not to cry from the overwhelming love (and pleasure) you're feeling.
and as he holds himself over you, smiling down at you like he didn't just possibly breed you out again, all you can do is look up at him with teary eyes and laugh at the ridiculous pink butterfly clips on his head.
"you're so pretty," you giggle, reaching up between your sweaty bodies to tap on the clips. "my manly husband."
"god," he groans, dropping his head down to your chest. you laugh some more, now with an even better view of his accessories, until he steals your laughter altogether with a sharp bite to your nipple.
He was a regular at the small bookshop you started working at a year ago. You were sure he was at least ten years older than you, and still (or was it because of your daddy issues) you couldn't help but instantly notice how good-loking he was. Sharp features, hazel eyes, precise movements, polite words – and with time, you caught onto the subtle things that made him unique. How he preferred darker shirts and lighter suits, how his tie always had a funny pattern. His shoes were spotless, just like his whole attire, his speech, his gestures. He always went to find books in business, sometimes at the cooking or science section, but never touched romance, fantasy or esoterics. When he came to pay, he always asked for a paper bag. To your surprise, he didn’t have a loyalty card, even though he came to the shop once every week.
He always greeted you respectfully, his voice low and reserved – the kind of voice that would make you trail off when he spoke, even though he never interrupted your speech – paid silently and wished you a great day. You never initiated small talk, but he didn’t seem like the type who would appreciate it.
He looked like a real gentleman. Calm and collected.
You had no idea then that you’d have to add chilling to the list later, as well.
After weeks and weeks of silently eyeing him from behind the counter, the day came when you decided to stop drooling over the way his muscles stretched on his forearms, or how he furrowed his brows when he was reading a blurb, so subtly nobody else would’ve noticed.
Stop, you tell yourself. There was no hope to begin with anyway.
But it was nice to look forward to a customer every now and then.
Setting the alarm and locking the door behind you, you put away your keys and step out to the street. You look at your phone – half past nine. Not too late to go to the supermarket.
"Good evening."
You snap your head to look at the direction the sound came from. And lo and behold – the very cause of your renewing hopeless romantic problem stands there, under a street light, his white suit draped across his arm while he looks at you. You almost gasp – how can he look so good even now? – but manage to stop yourself, as worry starts to flood your mind.
Why is he here? He sure looks like he was waiting for the shop to close, with how he was standing just a few feet away from the back door. But why is he at the back door?
"Oh, hi! I’m sorry, I just closed the store, you’ll have to come back tomorrow," you inform him while walking closer.
"Ah, please excuse me for disturbing you so late, but I'm not here because of that." He pauses for a second, and pushes his glasses up his defined nose. You can't help but follow his long fingers with your eyes. "I came to ask for your contact information."
Your face becomes pale. You look up at him, mortified, a million things running through your mind as to what you could have done wrong. Did you mess up one of his book orders? Or rang him up a book he didn’t buy? Gave him a plastic bag instead of a paper one?
"Alright, yes of course, but… I could call my manager tomorrow morning if you have any complaints, sir, it’s much faster to tell her, as reviewing written reports can take up to days…" You blabber on, sending yourself spiraling, when he – for the first time – cuts you off.
"I meant your number."
You shut up and look at him in disbelief. "My number?"
"Yes, your phone number. Except in case you wouldn’t like me to take you out sometime the next week."
You just stare at him. Is this real life? Is this happening to you? Is this the same man you have been lusting after for months? Aren’t you hallucinating?
The urge to shake your head or look around to see if he was talking to someone else is strong, but you brace yourself. You wouldn’t want to make an idiot out of yourself in front of him.
"No, it’s uhh, are you… really? Are you serious?" You ask instead, and already want to punch yourself in the face upon actually verbalizing the words. But he doesn’t laugh, just answers your question casually.
"Yes, I am."
You stare at him for a couple more seconds, then snap out of it. "Okay, yeah, I mean, sure. No, I mean, thank you, I'd love that," you just want the ground to swallow you whole before that, being all flustered and rambling nonsense. You almost don’t notice the small smile lingering on his lips when he pulls out his phone, opens the contacts and hands it to you.
"Thank you. And sorry for holding you up," Nanami apologizes, but you rather he’d disturb you all night long instead of just dropping by.
"Let me properly introduce myself, then. I’m Kento Nanami," he says then, and you too introduce yourself (awkwardly) while typing your number and name into his phone.
"It's really nice to meet you, Nanami," you smile at him as pretty as you can, then give his phone back to him. He looks at it, then snickers.
My God. I need to stop reading so many explicit novels.
"No, not at all, I was about to head home anyways," you shake your head. "Then… I guess we’ll see each other around?"
"We will," he confirms with a curt nod. "Well then, good night."
"Good night."
It’s only when you hop onto the bus you realize that you forgot to ask for his number. You want to scream in agony and embarassment, but there’s no helping it now.
You’d have to wait for him to contact you.
The next morning, you wake up before your alarm goes off, get ready and make yourself as pretty as you possibly can. The dress code is strict, but you can put on some lipstick and jewellery that is more shiny than what you usually wear. And throughout your workday, you check your phone at least three times a minute in case he calls, texts, or sends any kind of sign.
And well, the signal ends up being he himself.
Your eyes widen when you see him walk through the door casually, his gaze quickly finding yours. And then he actually smiles at you, and heads to the business section.
"Oh. My God. I did not just witness this."
You turn to see your coworker, Shoko standing behind you, a few books in hand, her jaw also on the floor. She looks even more bevildered than you do. She quickly closes the gap between the two of you and grabs you by the shoulders. "Are you kidding me?! Did you put airborne drugs in his books or something? How’d you sweet-talk Mr. Cool?"
A stupid grin spreads across your face. "I don’t know! Last night when I closed the shop he was waiting for me outside. Said he wanted my contact information," you giggle quietly, and Shoko’s eyes widen. "I though he was going to complain, but no, he asked for my number."
"Shut up," she says while putting the books to their designated shelves.
"I did, unfortunately. I forgot to ask for his number."
"You idiot!" She hits your arm playfully, and leaves to the counter to ring up a customer, then comes back. "But he did waltz in here with a pretty smile. Looks like you didn’t mess up."
"I hope so."
Your eyes return to the tall, blonde man still browsing in his favourite section. You want to believe you were the reason he came here, since he was in just two days ago, and he rarely shops twice in a week.
As though he felt your gaze, he looks up and meets your eyes. You blush, but hold his stare for a couple of seconds before you look away to help other customers.
A few minutes later he comes to your register with a book in his hand.
"Hello."
"Hi," you breathe back.
There is a silent moment when you forget that you’re actually a cashier and he’s here to buy a book. You recollect yourself quickly, and ring up his read. You raise your brows in surprise when you see what he bought – a romantasy you’ve been meaning to read for a few weeks but never got the chance. You try to hide your puzzled expression as you bag it.
"I thought you liked business books and autobiographies," you remark. Nanami puts his hand on the counter.
"It’s not for me."
"Oh, I see," and boom, you're already feeling stupid. Of course it's not for him.
But hen you hand him the bag, he doesn’t take it. Instead, he reaches to gently push it back towards you. "Enjoy your read. And call me when you’ve finished your shift. I hope you'll have a nice day."
Nanami then smiles at you again, and leaves the shop with a polite nod.
You are left standing there again, with no words, until you realize something is sticking out from one of the pages. You open it up curiously, and find a little note that reads:
’You look beautiful today.’
Followed by his phone number.
You try not to squeal and melt at the same time. How can this man be so smooth?
When Nanami gets home, the first thing he does is open your social media accounts.
The first time he did it a couple of weeks earlier, he was surprised to see how few posts you had online, one every few months, with two to six pictures and a short caption. You mostly posted pictures which had your face and your friends’ faces in it, given that most of your accounts were private.
But, well, who was he if he couldn’t break his way into a few private profiles?
He observed the pictures and read through your posts, memorizing your characteristics, likes and dislikes, the people you interacted with and the way you did it. He had learned that you broke up with your boyfriend around six months ago. Nanami could not believe you were with an idiot like that guy in the first place – but low standards meant it would be cakewalk to sweep you off your feet.
He analyzes every little detail he could find about your public and private life, up to the point that he could make a full profile from the top of his head just by reading through you socials and meeting you in the book store from time to time.
When he looks at a picture of you, grinning and hugging your coworker he saw you exchanging excited words with, the edges of his mouth slowly curl up into a smile.
Poor girl… She has no idea what she’s gotten herself into.
thank you all for your continued support!! i look forward to writing evil Nanami dribbles, hehe. it just fits his character so perfectly, i love it so much.
cw! in the next few episodes, you can expect:
manipulation
graphic descriptions of violence
nsfw contents
nothing being as it seems
and idk - more horrible things i wouldn't write if i was sane. if you're sensitive to contents like these, please refrain from reading further. he's gonna be a bad guy, people. and i mean it.
anyway see you in a few days, and please let me know if you liked this!
@realalpacorn here you go bestie, hope you enjoyed this as well :3
have a nice day everyone <3
read the prologue here, and check out the little playlist i made on my Spotify acc here!
dividers by @strangergraphics and @cursed-carmine
synopsis: you know Sukuna is a violent, egotistical curse who puts your nerves to the test. he goes "missing" one day, and when he does return, something gets stirred up inside you (and maybe in him, too?)
cw: nothing, guys. it's just some fluff.
find the playlist I wrote this to here!
enjoy <3
It was a long day for you. Even though most would argue that working at a small grocery shop is one of the most undemanding jobs, it was hard sometimes. Today one of your coworkers fell sick and dumped his shift on you last-minute, and knowing that you had ten hours of uncut work ahead of you was not a good thought to begin the day with. One hour into your shift, an old lady accidentally knocked down a whole isle of tomato sauce and broke ten jars of it. The poor lady had just enough money to pay for the broken jars, but not to pay for her own groceries, so you decided to help her out. She was very sweet and apologized thoroughly for her clumsiness, and you just brushed it off. The next half hour of constantly interrupted cleaning was not wery sweet, though. Halfway through it came a group of teenage boys - real bullies, you could tell it from a single glance - and decided to subtly steal some goods, which you noticed, of course. Thankfully, they paid for it, followed by a "Damn, bro, I thought I had it," and tried to convince you to treat one of them to a delicious onigiri, which you refused, but that was the end of that. You were frustrated, but not as much as you became when you accidentally slipped and landed in the last puddle of tomato sauce lef untouched. The next eight hours of your shift went mostly smoothly, except for the fact that your favourite jeans were ruined, you had an additional 10 dollars missing from your pocket, your butt was hurting, and your mood was worse than ever. When you finally closed up, you walked home in your running jeans, dirty denim folded in your hands. As you strolled to your apartment's door, you noticed that it was open.
So... he's finally home.
At least your door is in one piece.
You gulped, putting away your keys, and pushed your front door open. Sukuna was lying on your couch, shirtless (obviously), with his arms crossed under his head. He heard the sound coming from your direction, and opened one of his eyes to look at you.
"Finally," he said, but did not move. "I thought you ran away."
"This apartment is quite permanent, you know. I just had to pick up my coworker's shift, he caught something," you explained, while putting down your bag and heading for your bathroom. You had no idea how to get tomato sauce out of your clothes, much less had the energy to do it, so you just threw it in the washing machine and started it. Then you headed back to the living room / kitchen and opened the cabinet. "Where have you been? I haven't seen you in like... two weeks?"
"And two days. But it's not your business. "
You grabbed a pack of instant noodles, and boiled some water. "Yeah, right. Forgot about that."
The kettle’s sound filled in the little apartment. While you waited for your dinner to heat up, you glanced at the King of Curses, who was still lying on your sofa, eyes closed. It was a bizarre sight. Even though you had known him for a whole year (well, as well as you could know a deadly curse), it was an unusual feeling when he visited. Also, you had absolutely no idea why he did that, but given how lonely you were, even having a human-shaped curse as a companion was better than no one. He was dangerous, of course, but never did a large enough damage that would cost or hurt you so much, and you paid attention not to anger him. So you just "let him" hang around you.
The kettle beeped, and a ray of happiness reached your soul upon hearing that your food was warm and ready. After pouring the water onto your noodles, you put the sauces on it and covered it with a lid. You picked up a set of chopsticks and sat down to the table.
"What are you eating?" He said, to your surprise. He never really asked anything about you, ever. So you replied eagerly.
"Just some instant noodles. Do you... want a bite?
He looked up at you, and you thought he would just refuse you with an "obviously no" stare, but to your even greater surprise, he got up frok the couch and took a seat next to you. You just blinked in shock, but lifted the lid – the three minutes was up – and fished out a chunk of noodles. Sukuna watched you carefully, as if you were wrapping out a machine gun (one that could actually hurt him).
"Say 'aah'" you offered the food, and he bit down on the chopsticks. Sukuna chewed and swallowed, then looked at you with disgust.
'You actually eat this," he said, more like an astonished statement than a question.
"Sadly, yes."
"Why."
"I dunno."
"That’s dumb."
"Maybe, but it keeps me alive."
He fell silent after that. You could not believe your eyes: an emotion of some sort flashed through his face! You could not identify what kind of expression was that, but it was definitely not indifference, annoyance or disgust.
He then spoke.
"When I was... not yet a curse, I met this old man a couple of times. He was a horrible cook. That’s probably a reason why his wife died so young," he scoffed. You sat in silence. "He would invite me in and treat me to his horrible soups whenever he saw me. I was always so damn hungry, so I would go with him, even though I wanted to vomit every time I ate at his house. He was a herbalist of some sorts, so he didn’t really care about taste, only nutrition,” his face was even. Not contorted in any kind of grimace. he just looked... at peace. It was a sight you never even magined seeing. "He died when I was around fifteen. But taught me some of his knowledge, since he didn’t have any children. I forgot most of it."
You had no idea what brought him to actually talk about himself, and not in superlatives. He shared something personal, showed a vulnerable side of himself, and you liked it.
Hesitantly, you reached out, and touched his right pinky.
He pulled away instantly, and you regretted your movement right away.
"Eat, you are hungry," he said, but you wouldn’t try to look at his glance.
Maybe, if you had done that, you could have seen some other new feelings.
The noodles you half-liked felt like rotten garbage after that. You tried to eat them, but after a few bites, you put down the chopsticks and just stared at it.
"There used to live an old granny across the street from where I lived as a child. Sometimes my mom would ask her to babysit me, and whenever she did, I begged my mom to go anywhere but her house. She was a horrible cook, too," you laughed briefly. Sukuna didn’t move. "She could only make instant ramen and pancakes. Her pancakes were good, but she wouldn’t let me eat them until I ate her instant ramen. I absolutely hated that, but it was worth it, because she had the sweetest smile and the best pancakes. Well, I always thought that, until I got these bad stomach aches which made me regret the whole thing. Eventually, we moved away when I was around ten and I never saw her again. I don’t know if she’s still alive."
There was silence. But... no pressing. Nothing uncomfortable. Just silence.
You glanced up at his direction, and your breath got stuck in your throat.
He was looking at you.
He was... beautiful.
So beautiful.
His red eyes were not filled with rage. His face was still, black tattoos hugging his features in a way you could never imagine seeing them before. A single strand of hair fell near his left ear, but it was not out of place. Nothing on him was out of place, wrong, or unclean. He looked perfect – absolutely perfect.
He was a regular at the small bookshop you started working at a year ago. You were sure he was at least ten years older than you, and still (or was it because of your daddy issues) you couldn't help but instantly notice how good-loking he was. Sharp features, hazel eyes, precise movements, polite words – and with time, you caught onto the subtle things that made him unique. How he preferred darker shirts and lighter suits, how his tie always had a funny pattern. His shoes were spotless, just like his whole attire, his speech, his gestures. He always went to find books in business, sometimes at the cooking or science section, but never touched romance, fantasy or esoterics. When he came to pay, he always asked for a paper bag. To your surprise, he didn’t have a loyalty card, even though he came to the shop once every week.
He always greeted you respectfully, his voice low and reserved – the kind of voice that would make you trail off when he spoke, even though he never interrupted your speech – paid silently and wished you a great day. You never initiated small talk, but he didn’t seem like the type who would appreciate it.
He looked like a real gentleman. Calm and collected.
You had no idea then that you’d have to add chilling to the list later, as well.
After weeks and weeks of silently eyeing him from behind the counter, the day came when you decided to stop drooling over the way his muscles stretched on his forearms, or how he furrowed his brows when he was reading a blurb, so subtly nobody else would’ve noticed.
Stop, you tell yourself. There was no hope to begin with anyway.
But it was nice to look forward to a customer every now and then.
Setting the alarm and locking the door behind you, you put away your keys and step out to the street. You look at your phone – half past nine. Not too late to go to the supermarket.
"Good evening."
You snap your head to look at the direction the sound came from. And lo and behold – the very cause of your renewing hopeless romantic problem stands there, under a street light, his white suit draped across his arm while he looks at you. You almost gasp – how can he look so good even now? – but manage to stop yourself, as worry starts to flood your mind.
Why is he here? He sure looks like he was waiting for the shop to close, with how he was standing just a few feet away from the back door. But why is he at the back door?
"Oh, hi! I’m sorry, I just closed the store, you’ll have to come back tomorrow," you inform him while walking closer.
"Ah, please excuse me for disturbing you so late, but I'm not here because of that." He pauses for a second, and pushes his glasses up his defined nose. You can't help but follow his long fingers with your eyes. "I came to ask for your contact information."
Your face becomes pale. You look up at him, mortified, a million things running through your mind as to what you could have done wrong. Did you mess up one of his book orders? Or rang him up a book he didn’t buy? Gave him a plastic bag instead of a paper one?
"Alright, yes of course, but… I could call my manager tomorrow morning if you have any complaints, sir, it’s much faster to tell her, as reviewing written reports can take up to days…" You blabber on, sending yourself spiraling, when he – for the first time – cuts you off.
"I meant your number."
You shut up and look at him in disbelief. "My number?"
"Yes, your phone number. Except in case you wouldn’t like me to take you out sometime the next week."
You just stare at him. Is this real life? Is this happening to you? Is this the same man you have been lusting after for months? Aren’t you hallucinating?
The urge to shake your head or look around to see if he was talking to someone else is strong, but you brace yourself. You wouldn’t want to make an idiot out of yourself in front of him.
"No, it’s uhh, are you… really? Are you serious?" You ask instead, and already want to punch yourself in the face upon actually verbalizing the words. But he doesn’t laugh, just answers your question casually.
"Yes, I am."
You stare at him for a couple more seconds, then snap out of it. "Okay, yeah, I mean, sure. No, I mean, thank you, I'd love that," you just want the ground to swallow you whole before that, being all flustered and rambling nonsense. You almost don’t notice the small smile lingering on his lips when he pulls out his phone, opens the contacts and hands it to you.
"Thank you. And sorry for holding you up," Nanami apologizes, but you rather he’d disturb you all night long instead of just dropping by.
"Let me properly introduce myself, then. I’m Kento Nanami," he says then, and you too introduce yourself (awkwardly) while typing your number and name into his phone.
"It's really nice to meet you, Nanami," you smile at him as pretty as you can, then give his phone back to him. He looks at it, then snickers.
My God. I need to stop reading so many explicit novels.
"No, not at all, I was about to head home anyways," you shake your head. "Then… I guess we’ll see each other around?"
"We will," he confirms with a curt nod. "Well then, good night."
"Good night."
It’s only when you hop onto the bus you realize that you forgot to ask for his number. You want to scream in agony and embarassment, but there’s no helping it now.
You’d have to wait for him to contact you.
The next morning, you wake up before your alarm goes off, get ready and make yourself as pretty as you possibly can. The dress code is strict, but you can put on some lipstick and jewellery that is more shiny than what you usually wear. And throughout your workday, you check your phone at least three times a minute in case he calls, texts, or sends any kind of sign.
And well, the signal ends up being he himself.
Your eyes widen when you see him walk through the door casually, his gaze quickly finding yours. And then he actually smiles at you, and heads to the business section.
"Oh. My God. I did not just witness this."
You turn to see your coworker, Shoko standing behind you, a few books in hand, her jaw also on the floor. She looks even more bevildered than you do. She quickly closes the gap between the two of you and grabs you by the shoulders. "Are you kidding me?! Did you put airborne drugs in his books or something? How’d you sweet-talk Mr. Cool?"
A stupid grin spreads across your face. "I don’t know! Last night when I closed the shop he was waiting for me outside. Said he wanted my contact information," you giggle quietly, and Shoko’s eyes widen. "I though he was going to complain, but no, he asked for my number."
"Shut up," she says while putting the books to their designated shelves.
"I did, unfortunately. I forgot to ask for his number."
"You idiot!" She hits your arm playfully, and leaves to the counter to ring up a customer, then comes back. "But he did waltz in here with a pretty smile. Looks like you didn’t mess up."
"I hope so."
Your eyes return to the tall, blonde man still browsing in his favourite section. You want to believe you were the reason he came here, since he was in just two days ago, and he rarely shops twice in a week.
As though he felt your gaze, he looks up and meets your eyes. You blush, but hold his stare for a couple of seconds before you look away to help other customers.
A few minutes later he comes to your register with a book in his hand.
"Hello."
"Hi," you breathe back.
There is a silent moment when you forget that you’re actually a cashier and he’s here to buy a book. You recollect yourself quickly, and ring up his read. You raise your brows in surprise when you see what he bought – a romantasy you’ve been meaning to read for a few weeks but never got the chance. You try to hide your puzzled expression as you bag it.
"I thought you liked business books and autobiographies," you remark. Nanami puts his hand on the counter.
"It’s not for me."
"Oh, I see," and boom, you're already feeling stupid. Of course it's not for him.
But hen you hand him the bag, he doesn’t take it. Instead, he reaches to gently push it back towards you. "Enjoy your read. And call me when you’ve finished your shift. I hope you'll have a nice day."
Nanami then smiles at you again, and leaves the shop with a polite nod.
You are left standing there again, with no words, until you realize something is sticking out from one of the pages. You open it up curiously, and find a little note that reads:
’You look beautiful today.’
Followed by his phone number.
You try not to squeal and melt at the same time. How can this man be so smooth?
When Nanami gets home, the first thing he does is open your social media accounts.
The first time he did it a couple of weeks earlier, he was surprised to see how few posts you had online, one every few months, with two to six pictures and a short caption. You mostly posted pictures which had your face and your friends’ faces in it, given that most of your accounts were private.
But, well, who was he if he couldn’t break his way into a few private profiles?
He observed the pictures and read through your posts, memorizing your characteristics, likes and dislikes, the people you interacted with and the way you did it. He had learned that you broke up with your boyfriend around six months ago. Nanami could not believe you were with an idiot like that guy in the first place – but low standards meant it would be cakewalk to sweep you off your feet.
He analyzes every little detail he could find about your public and private life, up to the point that he could make a full profile from the top of his head just by reading through you socials and meeting you in the book store from time to time.
When he looks at a picture of you, grinning and hugging your coworker he saw you exchanging excited words with, the edges of his mouth slowly curl up into a smile.
Poor girl… She has no idea what she’s gotten herself into.
thank you all for your continued support!! i look forward to writing evil Nanami dribbles, hehe. it just fits his character so perfectly, i love it so much.
cw! in the next few episodes, you can expect:
manipulation
graphic descriptions of violence
nsfw contents
nothing being as it seems
and idk - more horrible things i wouldn't write if i was sane. if you're sensitive to contents like these, please refrain from reading further. he's gonna be a bad guy, people. and i mean it.
anyway see you in a few days, and please let me know if you liked this!
@realalpacorn here you go bestie, hope you enjoyed this as well :3
have a nice day everyone <3
read the prologue here, and check out the little playlist i made on my Spotify acc here!
dividers by @strangergraphics and @cursed-carmine
Your room is dark and still. It is well past midnight, the slow muffles of the city coming inside through your half-opened window only lulls you more into your dreams.
But not the man sitting in your chair.
You jolt awake, eyes runnig around your room, and your uneasiness becomes justified as soon as you meet with the hazel eyes fixed on your form.
"What the...?!" You panic even more when you realize who's eyes you're looking into.
Kento Nanami sits in your chair in the corner of your bedroom, all leaned back, legs crossed, fingers intertwined in his lap. Your breathing is ragged, you're feeling transparent, see-though and bare - you are just in your pajamas.
So many questions flood through your head, but you don't start yelling.
No, not when it's him.
"Nanami, why... why are you here?"
You instinctively tighten the blanket around you when he moves. He stands up slowly, straightens his suit, and makes his way to your bed. You want to run, scream for help, but his gaze mortifies you.
Nanami sits on the edge of your bed, just inches away from you, and slowly reaches out. You want to pull away, but before you could do that, he grabs your face in a flash. He is not violent, doesn't squeeze your cheeks at all, just holds it.
If you weren't terrified to your core, you would have said that in his eyes, you saw love.
But you aren't going to mistake it for obsession.
He tilts his head, still not letting go of your face. He, instead, starts carressing your skin with his thumb. "You have no idea how beautiful you are. The things I would do for you..." He trails off, getting lost in thoughts you knew no way in hell were healthy.
"Nanami..." you begin, but stop again when his eyes meet yours.
You only realize there is something splattered across his face when you look closer.
Your blood runs cold.
"Nanami, what happened?" You ask, and hope to God it was just some syrup or anything else than what you know suspect is on him.
He humms in question, then reaches for his face. He smudges the liquid and looks at his hands. "Ah, sorry, sweetheart. Had some business to tend to before I came to see you."
You watch in horror as he licks the blood off his thumb, then frowns. "Yours is so much more tasty."
He tries to reach for your face again, expression still firm and cold, but you grab his palm mid-air. He watches as you set it back on his thigh. "Nanami. Why don't we talk about this in the morning? I'm really tired now."
You want nothing more than to have him out of your room, your whole life, but you are alone in your apartment in the middle of the night, with your phone out of reach. And you know well how he gets when something upsets him. So instead, you yawn, pretending to be sleepy - in truth, your heart is racing, nerves just a move away from snapping. But you give him a small smile you know he'll notice despite the dark.
Nanami blinks, then snickers (which sounds more like a scoff). "Sorry, I got ahead of myself. I know you like your sleeping hours undisturbed," you almost sigh in relief when he stands up from your bed. "Then I'll meet you in a few hours. I'll get you some coffe and a croissant."
"Okay," you just reply, and fake a yawn again.
"Good night then, sweetheart," he waves you goodbye, but before exiting your room, hand already on the handle, he stops. "I can see right through you, love. You don't have to go around lying to me all the time."
You freeze again, and he turns to face you this time.
His stare is gravely sharp.
"Don't lie to me."
A second later, the door closes, and you don't dare to collapse onto the bed and start sobbing until you're sure he's out of your apartment.
You have no idea he's still standing outside your bedroom door.
I realized I only post CB and random shitposts, which is not cool. evil!Nanami has been bugging me for exactly three days, so inspired by Erika Lundmoen's song Yad, I wrote this little thing. Do you like it?
Hellowww Dear Reader, and welcome to chapter five! I didn't forget to post today AND I made a little header for my fic?? What is happening to meee?
Jokes aside, we have officially reached the first ever breaking point! Yaaay! (Don't worry there will be many more to come hehe.) Tell me what you think about this chapter, please, I love to hear all your thoughts!
Happy sankthans / midsummer for everyone (*´ω｀*)
Cry, Baby masterlist
chapter five - abandonment.
Its face is hideous. Red irises envelope the burning hunger which sets the trees and buildings near him on fire. It grins, smirks, then bares its teeth so wide you see every single sharp bone in his mouth. Blood is splattered through its face and pink hair. Its snaring mouth lets out a sound between a laugh and a growl. Inferno surrounds it, as it draws back its bow, made of Hell’s fire…
Your eyes popped open, and you sat up.
The monster… curse, is back in your dreams.
But… he looked different.
You closed your eyes for a moment, then looked at your phone. 6.07 AM, not too bad. You could call Gojo soon and it wouldn’t be too impolite. Well, your first call to him was at the middle of the night, so you guessed that it didn’t really matter now.
You got up, because although you liked to sleep well into the morning, something told you it would not be wise to fall back asleep while that curse haunts your dreams again. So you walked to your drawer, pulled up a fresh set of clothes, and got dressed. You went to the kitchen. Your mother was still alseep, so you got started on some breakfast for the both of you. She has not been getting enough sleep during the past two weeks with you, also while working shifts late into the night. Yesterday, she had one of those shifts, so usually she would only get up around ten o’clock. Oh well. You’d make some breakfast for her later, then.
You made yourself some onigiris – it was not breakfast-material, but you couldn’t help yourself, that was one of your favourite comfort foods after all – and leaned to the counter while you ate. You glanced at the clock in the corner: 6.52. Reaching for your phone, you collected your memories from last night’s dreams to share it with Gojo while punching the ’call’ button.
"Moshi-moshi, Shidou-chaan!" He picked up after a few rings. Was this man always available, or was it your non-existent luck that he would always pick up within seconds?
"Good morning, Gojo-san," you greeted him, swallowing some rice. You suddenly heard a loud thud on the other side of the line and some cursing. "Am I calling at a bad time…? I can call you back, it’s not urgent…"
"Oh no, not at all!" He practically sang, while more heavy crashes, bangs and cusses echoed in the background. Your brows furrowed while someone screamed ’Get back here, you lousy asshole!!’ He, however, sounded absolutely unbothered while continuing your conversation. "What can I do for you?"
"Uh, I was just calling because it’s… Ryomen is back in my dreams. Whatever you did is starting to lose its effect," you explained, and you heard a hum.
"I see, I see." You were pretty sure he was blind though. "I wanted to talk to you anyway, would you mind coming to Yoyogi Park again? At noon?"
"Alright, I’ll be there. Thank you."
"Anything for you!" he chirped. ’Fuck you, don’t go speaking on the phone while I’m trying to whoop you! Get your ass back here so I can beat you properly!!’ You heard, and you were quite confused, but didn’t ask what was happening. "See you in a few hours, then!"
He hung up quickly as you heard a series of roaring though the phone. You were dumbfounded, blinked a few times, then went back to your onigiri. Ah, tsuna-mayo really is the best!
A few hours later, you were on your phone to text Yamaguchi about the news. You knew he was still mad about you not consulting him last time, and because of the glasses too, which you now wore all the time. You didn’t want to disappoint your friend.
You texted him good morning and told him about the dream you had and that you called Gojo. You texted him the time and place of the meeting, so he was fully informed. And sure enough, he replied within moments.
Yama-mama: Are you sure you want to do this? You don’t even know these people.
Yorrr: Yes but he helped me. I have to give this a chance Yama-kun
Yama-mama: There must be other options you can explore.
Yorrr: I don’t think so
Yama-mama: OK…
Yama-mama: Just please be safe.
Yama-mama: Should I go with you?
Yorrr: No but thank you. I think I can handle it
Yama-mama: Call me if there’s anything wrong.
Yorrr: Tanks. But dw I’m gonna be okay ;D
A small smile made it’s way to your lips. Even though it was sometimes a hassle, Yamaguchi cared, and you were grateful for that.
You went to your room and decided to read some manga to comfort you and to pass the time. You happened to pull out Solo Leveling from your dedicated manga, manhwa and manhua shelf, and you let another smile warm up your face. You shot a quick picture of it in your hands and sent it to Yamaguchi with a text that read, ’Gonna pass some time, wanna join?’ Co-reading the same manhwa at the same time but at different places was something you liked to do together. It was alone time, but not lonely time.
He didn’t read your message, but you still plopped down to your bed and started reading. You went on, chapter after chapter, and when you were done, you pulled out another manga and started reading that. A few minutes passed, then half an hour, and the next thing you knew you heard your mother shuffle around in the living room. Is it that late already? You looked at your phone, and sure enough, it was already over ten PM.
Suddenly you remembered that you were yet to explain the whole situation to her. You never told her about sneaking out of the house at three AM, and you sure as hell not going to share this info with her now. But you needed to come up with something plausible. You took a deep breath, put down your read, and walked to the kitchen.
By the way your mother carried herself and behaved, you were genuenly surprised she didn’t have any curses stuck on her. But you were thankful you didn’t have to explain this whole shamanism-ish looking thing you were starting to dig yourself into while begging her to let you try to dance to (exorcise) some awful looking creature she could absolutely not see. And God forbid you give her the glasses, that would just lead to even more problems. You had enough on your hands as it is.
You put the glasses with the case into your pocket as strolled into the kitchen, seeing your mother much on the pancakes you made a few hours ago. "Goofowwihg," she said, mouth full, eyes still half asleep. Good, if she’s sleepy, she’s not that snappy.
"Good morning to you too, mom," you said with a small smile. "How’d you sleep?"
"Hoof," she answered, and you snickered. "Thaff fow we fawhafef," You attempted to translate the sentence to ’thanks for the pancakes’. It was good you made them, now she’s a little more satisfied. This is going to be easier.
"I’m glad, then," you poured her some coffee. "You know how I’ve been sleeping better these past few days?" You asked, and you saw her nodding calmly while stuffing her face with more pancakes topped with strawberry jam. As much as this was a hard topic, you couldn’t help but giggle at the sight. Then you continued. "So it’s all because of a sleep specialist I met a few days ago. He showed me some tricks which are apparently working. I’m meeting him today again, around noon, so I won’t be home for an hour maybe. I don’t know how long our talk is gonna be."
She swallowed the bite and looked at you. "What’s his price? If it’s working, it must not be cheap..."
"Don’t worry about that, I’ve got it covered," you assured her, and she blinked. "I have some money set aside, I’m gonna pay him. And he’s still undiscovered by the major audience so his pay is not that high."
"Don’t be ridiculous, I’m your mother. It’s my job to cover these things for you." She walked to the living room and pulled out her wallet from her bag.
"No, mom, really. It’s fine," you said, but she just sushed you.
"Here’s some for today, you come back and tell me if it was enough. If not, I’ll give you more next time. Understood?"
"Mom, seriously..."
"Understood?"
You looked at her stern gaze, and you smiled softly. You silently took the money from her hand and promised yourself to buy her something nice from this. It was true, once she made up her mind there was nothing that could make her change it. You were sad that she only acted like this when there were emergencies, but... it was not so bad. Both of you had your ups and downs, separately or together.
"Thanks," you said, and went to hug her. She embraced you and patted your hair.
"Jeez, you’ve almost outgrown me and I’m considered tall," she snickered. "My little daughter."
But what it translated to your hand was this: ’I’m proud of you for managing your life so well.’
Your breath hitched, and you hugged her tighter.
She broke the hug a few seconds later. She has never been a touchy person, but you didn’t mind. She let you have these moments and you were greatful for that.
She went back to the counter to eat some more pancakes, and you headed back to your room, tears – happy tears, this time – collecting in your eyes, to put away the money.
Just to see your window shatter to pieces, showering you in shards of glass.
You didn’t see anything...
The glasses!
You quickly grabbed them and put them on.
It would have been better if you had not done that.
Before you, towered a green, tall, and large curse. It had many eyes, blood running from all of them, five arms and three mouths. You froze, eyes widening. You knew you did not have the tools, nor the technique to exorcise that.
You screamed and ran out of your room. Your mother snapped her head at you, but before she could have spoken, you yanked her away from the kitchen, toward the front door.
It was still locked!
"Yori, what are you-?!"
"Open the door!" You shrieked, lookig back to see the huge curse moving after you. It was not fast, but it was damn large. At least seven feet tall and three feet wide. If it blocks your way, you’re never gonna get out!
You heard your mother shuffle with the keys and the front door was opened. You practically fell out to the street, dragging her after you. The curse sped up and you were absolutely terrified. Your phone, you need to call-!
Only to realize you left it in your room.
"Yori, what the fuck-?!"
Your mother didn’t even finish her sentence, still running further away from your house. The curse now found a new target – a pedestrian walking his dog. The poor guy screamed as he got crushed by the monster. You wanted to vomit at the sight of blood, flesh and bones splattering across the sidewalk. What the fuck, what the fuck!
You couldn’t move – it was your mother who forced you to keep running. Now more people were running. "You phone," you managed to blurt out. She was so terrified she didn’t even ask why, she just dumped it into your hand.
You tried to remember Gojo’s number to the best of your ability, and you messed up two times, but managed to dial it on the third time. It rang, and thankfully he picked up.
"Moshi-mo-"
"Gojo-san, a huge curse is tearing down my home and it already killed a man, please help!" You cried, sobbing and trembling as you ran away from the scene, your mother’s hand still enveloped in yours.
"Where are you? I’m leaving now," he said, wasting no time, calling out to someone. You told him the address. "Keep running, get as far as you can. It’ll take a bit of time to get there, I’ll send someone else too. Do you have the mini-bos?"
"Yeah," you answered shakily.
"Good. They’re not gonna be of any help, do not attempt to use them. Just run, do you understand?"
You sobbed out a yes. You knew it already, but hearing that even that little equipment you had was completely useless was hard to hear. "Stay strong and run, don’t look back," he said and hung up.
Suddenly, your mother halted and let out a whimper. "Yori, what are these things?"
You looked up.
There was another curse, right in front of you.
And this one was much bigger.
You shook with fear as you tried to pull her back, but she didn’t let you. Your mother maneuvered her arms to get you behind her as best as she could. You could see her hands tremble. How could she see them?
The curse sarted to walk toward you two with staggering steps. Your mouth dried out.
You saw something flash before your eyes...
You were just in time to yank your mother away from the hit the curse wanted to deal to her. What was that just now? Your body acted on its own as if...
You had no more time to think about it as you drew her away from the monster, sprinting to the opposite direction. You saw a few people running, screaming, as well as a few torn bodies lying on the ground. The green blob was a lot closer than you had anticipated.
The second curse somehow almost caught up to you, it was faster than the first one despite its size. Even though Gojo told you to leave the rods alone, you pulled them out just in case. A little is better than nothing. You ran and ran, the monster trotting after you relentlessly. You had to do something or else you’re not gonna make it!
You felt your mother and yourself start to run out of breath. You have been running around for almost ten minutes now and your legs were not in the best shape. Adrenaline fueled both of you, but it was starting to take a toll.
You took a left, and you were too late to realize it was a dead end. The curse already cornered you. You held out the rods, hoping for some magic to happen.
"E-e-eee-eaaat..."
Your blood froze.
The curse spoke.
It spoke.
Its voice was shaky and uneven, but the words were recognizable. It said eat.
Eat you.
Eat you and your mother.
You let out a small cry while standing beside your mom.
Just when you thought it was over for you both, somebody made the curse let out a shriek that you’re never gonna forget for the rest of your life. It was knocked off its feet and slashed across its body. Before it could have moved more, it got a final cut and disappeared into thin air in the form of black smoke.
The man that remained in its place wore a light coloured suit and had blonde hair. In his hand rested a wrapped item, which seemed to be similar to a butcher’s knife. He pushed his glasses further up his nose, then looked back at your terrified silhouettes.
It took him only a moment to recognize the sticks in your hands. He frowned.
"Where did you get those?" He asked, inching closer to you. Your mother stepped forward, pushing you behind herself. The man stopped. "Oh, are you Yoriko Shidou? Satoru Gojo sent me."
You were still in shock, but managed to nod your head yes. He stepped closer again. "Good. I need you to come with me now."
"Over my dead body, you’re not taking my daughter anywhere," your mother hissed.
"I-it’s okay, mom, he helped us," you point out.
"Yes, and we are really greatful, but there’s another monster lurking aorund our house. Don’t you need to deal with that first?" She questioned.
"It’s being taken care of right this moment," he replied, then averted his gaze back to you. "I’m sorry, but we can’t take your mom with us, Shidou-san," then he looks at your mother again. "I promise you she’ll be safe."
"Horseshit," she says. "You’re jujutsu sorcerers, right? I know you are trouble."
Your jaw drops. What?! How does she know about them?!
The man also looks shocked for a moment, then puts back his poker face. "Madam, I really don’t want trouble."
"Mom, what the hell?" You sputtered.
"Stay back, Yoriko, I’m not letting them take you away from me."
"Mom, wait, what..."
"Fine, fine. I’m backing up," he said, hands held up. His eyes met yours for a moment." But you should know that it was your daughter who sought us out."
Your mom huffed. "Yes, we’re gonna talk about that later, Yori."
"Wait a damn second, wait a fucking second!" You exclaimed finally. Both of them looked at you. "What the hell is happening?? Mom, how do you know about jujutsu sorcerers? And you, mister, why would you want to take me away? And where?"
"I’ll tell you later, as soon as you tell me how you came in contact with them," your mother snarled. Okay, ouch.
"I, however cannot tell you where we’re going. You’ll need to trust Gojo-san for that," the blonde replied, and your mom snapped.
"Absolutely fucking not. Now please walk away, and I would like you all sorcerers to never disturb my family, ever again."
She then grabbed your hands and started to drag you across the street, as far from the unfamiliar man as possible. You yanked your hand out of hers, but she got a hold of it again and continued to pull. "No, mom, stop!" You begged, but to no avail. You could see her face, contorted in a furious grimace.
"I am not stopping, and you better be coming with me!"
"Mom, wait!"
"Shut your mouth if you didn’t manage to open it up until now!"
"Mom!"
"Fine then!" she shouted, and turned back to you. Your eyes widened – it has been awfully long since you saw her like that. Since you saw her absolutely lose her mind and just explode.
"If you want to go and get yourself killed, then go! I protected you for eighteen long years, but seems like you don’t care about that anymore. What a thanks I get! You are the best daughter I could have ever wished for – absoutely useless, constantly ill and costs a fucking fortune just to keep alive. I hope you die like Minato, alone and helpless. Then you will see the worth of my protection, but you won’t have it anymore. You’re the child I never wished for – you’re not my daughter anymore."
Every single word hit you like a freight train. You just stood there, taking it all in, weeping silently as your mother spat insult after insult, all cuts to your fragile heart that just started to heal a bit.
You couldn’t believe it.
But... it was the truth.
You felt that you were never wanted. Everything made sense now. How she looked at you disgusted, how she did just the bare minimum for you, and how she only helped you when she felt pity towards you. You felt like the past two weeks you two made huge progress, but seems like it was all just a façade.
It was all for nothing.
She was already gone when you fell to your knees, still crying, fat tears running down your face. You felt two strong arms catch you before you could have hit your knees, but you didn’t care. Nothing mattered. Nothing mattered anymore.
You should have just gone and killed yourself that night a few days ago. If you had done that, you wouldn’t be in this much pain now. No, you deserved that, you made her go through so much, it was your fault, your fault alone.
You knew your mother would be happy if you were gone.
Kento Nanami couldn’t believe his eyes and ears.
The girl in front of him collapsed after her mother virtually disowned her and told her she ruined everything. It was brutal, and cruel. Just so cruel.
He rushed to catch you as you fell. You were in pieces, absolutely crushed, crying in silence. He was never an emotional man, but seeing the scene, he wished he had the ability to calm you and tell you that everything was gonna be okay.
But everything was not going to be okay, he knew that very well.
You were weak and vulnerable, the damage dealt to you by your own mother was a lot. He picked you up from the pavement – you were so lightweight – and waited, making sure wherever that woman went, she was out of your sight. Only after a few minutes did he realize that you had to leave the scene and stepped out to the street.
The destruction that followed the two curses that got loose was immense. At least ten people were lying around dead, but he paid them little attention while searching for Gojo.
Just a few minutes later Gojo noticed you two and lifted his hand to wave, but then he saw you being carried my Nanami. "Is she hurt...?" He asked when you two reached him.
"Not physically," he answered, voice low. He let out an unaudible sigh.
"Hello, Shidou-chan. Don’t worry, we’ve got you now," the man spoke softly. He saw as you tried to swallow the lump in your throat to greet him, but you failed.
Just like you failed her, a voice said in your head.
Gojo looked at Nanami. "Ijichi-san is parking a few blocks away, I'll take her to the car."
"It’s fine," he said, his grip softening on you.
"...Then I’ll take you there."
The walk was silent and short, you got into the car without a fuss. You never stopped crying, Nanami noticed. You looked horrible.
He closed the door and walked a few feet away with Gojo, where you couldn’t hear or see them. "What happened?" Gojo asked, and Nanami sighed.
"I tried to convince her and her mother for Shidou-san to come with me. Her mother knows about jujutsu sorcerers for some reason," Gojo lifted an eyebrow to that statement, "and hates our guts apparently. Shidou-san objected when she wanted to take her away, and right on the spot her mother practically disowned her. It was awful," he grunted. "Now poor girl is traumatized to the core."
"Huh," he replied, not knowing what to say to that.
"What do we do with her now? I don’t think her mother wants her back after that," asked Nanami. Gojo thought for a moment.
"Well, I wanted to recruit her anyway because she could be useful against Sukuna. It’s sad she has fallen into our lap like this, but at least she did, so let’s do something with this opportunity," he said, taking his phone out, and texted someone. "I’ll have Ijichi-san bring her to the school, we’ll decide what and how when we get her and she took a breather. We need to clean up here a bit."
"Alright," nodded Nanami.
"Would you mind perhaps going with her? A familiar face might help, but I’m quite busy, and as you know,” he lowered his voice, "I can’t call Yuji-san here."
It was yesterday that Yuji magically came back to life. Gojo and Nanami still couldn’t wrap their heads around how Sukuna could have brought him back, but they knew it had to have a price, they just didn’t know what, yet.
Nanami nodded. He didn’t really want to go, but what else could he have done? He had some simpathy for you and understood what Gojo meant. He got into the car, taking the backseat on your right. You were next to him, staring blankly to nothingness. You looked like you were one breath away form crying again. He couldn’t blame you.
The car ride was silent, he had no idea if his presence would comfort you in some way, and he was anxious as to what to do.
"Do you want to... talk about it?" He asked then, softly.
You swallowed and shook your head no. But your words fell out of your mouth faster than you could have stopped them, or maybe you were slow to control yourself. "It… was not a surprise, just... it hurt. Sorry you had to watch that."
"Don’t worry about that."
Nanami averted his gaze, and there was silence for a few minutes.
He then looked back. "I’m sorry, I didn’t even introduce myself. I’m Kento Nanami."
You looked at his hand for a second. "Pleasure to meet you, and thank you... for saving us."
"It’s nothing," he answered, because really, that curse was nothing compared to the emotional terror you just went through.
"Excuse me, as well, I’m Yoriko Shidou," you said, targeting your words also for the black haired man in the driver’s seat.
"Hello, Shidou-san. I’m Kiyotaka Ijichi," he smiled at you softly from the mirror. You reciprocated it faintly.
The car grew silent for a moment before you spoke again. "What is going to happen to me now?"
Nanami didn’t know how to answer that question. So he settled for the truth. "We don’t know yet. We’re going to get you to safety now, and decide later."
You didn’t reply to that. You kept quiet for a moment before you spoke again. "You know, I called Gojo today. I had another dream about Sukuna, I wanted to talk to him about that. This dream was... different. It… Ryomen had pink hair and red eyes... now that I think about it, it looked a bit like Itadori-san."
Nanami flashed his eyes to you. Did you know that Itadori was Sukuna’s vessel? Was Gojo that stupid to tell you? Hopefully not... if yes, they might be in trouble.
But if no...
Gojo told Nanami a little about you, how you were haunted by Sukuna-centered historical nightmares. And he also told you that you might have something in store for them, if they can grasp what it is and polish it, you could be very useful to their case.
But these were just big ifs. As far as he knew, you were completely ordinary up until three weeks ago.
Did this dream of yours perhaps have a connection of Yuji coming back from the dead?
He realized he needed to do a little digging.
"What else do you remember?" He asked, hoping to find more clues. You hummed and shook your head.
"Well, that dream was short, I only saw Ryomen for a few moments. But it was drawing some sort of arrow. It seemed like it was entirely made from flames. Its gaze was... terrifying," you shivered.
Nanami was taken aback.
Does that mean that Sukuna might have fire-using abilities?
No, he must not be getting ahead of himself. Nothing is certain, this whole thing needs investigating.
"Oh and... it’s not connected to the dream but..." You fidgeted around while he litsened intently. "Uh, never mind."
"No, please. Anything could be important."
You shiged. "Well, when we were running away from that second curse... there was a moment when it wanted to deal a blow to me and... and mother. And I felt like... I moved to the left. My body knew it was going to come from the right. Now, it might be nothing, I’m not claiming to have anything supernatural or something," the more you spoke, the more red your face became in embarassment. "I just... it felt like I have been in this situation already. I have never had déjà vu before, not even once. And my mother wanted to move to the left. I saw a picture in my head where the curse attacks from the right... Oh God, it sounds stupid, I shouldn’t have spoken," you quickly covered your face, ears red as Nanami observed you.
It really didn’t sound too much at first glance, but given the circumstances – the dreams, Nanami could not overlook the fact that you basically told him you got a glimpse of the near future to avoid death.
It was not nothing.
"Thank you, Shidou-san. It might help us," he assured you.
You glanced up at him, surprised at his words. "Help us? How?"
"I don’t know yet. But every bit of infomation could be a piece of a bigger puzzle we’re not able to see just yet. So you never know."
Nanami saw how you looked at your hands, holding a pair of glasses in it.
Your face was sad. So endlessly, terribly, heartbreakingly sad.
But you put the glasses back on.
I AM DYING THIS ART GUYS-
(I can't give credit to the og artist cuz I couldn't find it I'm so sorry 🙏)
In the heat of rediscovering how this blessed app works and getting overly excited about posting and having new ideas, I totally forgot that I was actually here to post CB chapter four. So I apologize - I hope some funny moments with Gojo can make up for it :P
Have fun reading, and see you next time actually on Tuesday!
(Hit me if I forget to post on 24th too pls)
Cry, Baby.
Chapter 4. - Sticks, but no stones
After finally managing to escape from the weird men, you arrived back home. Your were puzzled, to say the least, so many questions floating in your head that you couldn’t even follow your own train of thought anymore. You felt worn-out, confused. And tired.
You crept back into your bed, not caring to change back into your pajamas, and thought back to the encounter. The pair of glasses this Gojo figure gave you was lying neatly on your desk, and you dared not to touch it anymore.
As you lifted the sheets and laid down, you noticed the knot in your stomach was still gone. That Itadori boy had really done something to you, you just refused to believe that disgusting thing was clinging to you all this time.
"Just give it a try. And call me when you’ve made up your mind, you know my number!"
The white-haired man had put his hand on your forehead before you could have flinched away, and you had felt a strange sense warmth rush through your body. After that he had said sleep should become easier now, but if any severe nightmares would come back…
"Call me anytime!"
You shivered. How can a smirk be this bright?
You let out a huff as you felt your body relaxing. You were surprised as your eyelids became so heavy you could not hold them open anymore. For the first time in two weeks, the fear of sleep vanished as you drifted off into a deep, undisturbed slumber.
* * *
"I don’t know, Yoriko-chan, this still seems pretty shady to me…"
You and Yamaguchi were sitting on his bed, and you were telling him about Gojo and Itadori. Even after almost twenty minutes of explaining him everything – maybe leaving out some more sensitive parts – he was quite sceptical of the whole situation. Which you understood, but…
"Look, it has been three nights ago, and I have been sleeping like a baby ever since! No nightmares, nothing! I haven’t even had any dreams, except for last night."
Those two nights after you met Gojo and Itadori were absolutely without dreaming anything, and it was pure bliss. Though you did dream some last night, they were not filled with that monster. They were just blurry and untangible, but that was way better than just four nights ago, and you took it gladly.
Yamaguchi, however, did not let the topic slide.
"Yes, and I am still mad about you not telling me right away!" He scolded you for the nth time today, flicking your forehead, again, to which you let out a pained yelp. "You should have taken me with you! What were you thinking, going out into the Shibuya night all alone to meet with creepy strangers?! Where did your common sense go?"
"Out the window because I have not been sleeping for fifteen days straight!" You now cracked, but regretted it right away. In a softer tone, you said, "I’m sorry, I know you’re just looking out for me, but Yama-kun… it has not been easy. I literally had no other choice. I just ran out of ideas."
The room grew silent.
"Okay, but please, for the sake of my sanity, do not ever do that again," he said, shyly putting his pinky on your palm. "Or at least take me with you. I know I’m not a huge help nowadays, but I’ll try my best."
"That’s not true! You are a big help!" You objected, taking his hand and holding it up in front of you. "You have been, since the day you gave me half your lunch and lent me Solo Leveling volume three! I hope you know that," you said, smiling, as he turned his blushing face away.
"O-okay, if you say so," he mumbled.
There was a knock on your door, and Yamaguchi’s mom, Himari peeked into the room. "Yoriko-chan, how are you feeling?" She asked, her voice so soft you swore to Yamaguchi one time that if you collected enough of his sweet mother’s tone, you could make a damn pink cloud out of it and float straight into heaven on it.
"I’m fine, thank you!" You answered, a bright smile on your face. Yamaguchi’s gaze softened as he looked at you.
"Would you like to join us for lunch? I’ve already set the table for five," she said. A moment later, a small head popped up at her feet. Yamaguchi’s little brother, Kenji peeked through the door and audibly gasped upon seeing you holding his brother’s hands.
"Mom, look! They’re finally dating! KENZO, SHIDOU-SAN AND KOUTA ARE FINALLY DATING! THEY ARE HOLDING HANDS, KENZO THEY ARE HOLDING HANDS" Little Kenji practically raced through the hallway, wailing to his eldest brother about you and your best friend. Both of you immediately stopped touching, face red as a can of premium tomato sauce, while looking anywhere but each other. His mom just giggled.
"Come, lunch is ready. Kenji, tell your brother lunch is ready," the woman shouted after the small boy, who was not even eight years old but ran like he was an olimpicon.
"KOUTA LUNCH READY!!" He yelled.
"The other one, honey."
"Oh, KENZO LUNCH READYYY!!!"
You and Yamaguchi awkwardly stood up from his bed and strolled down to the dining room and kitchen. Yamaguchi’s father was at work, so it was only five of you in the house. Besides Kenji shouting to his eldest brother about something involving toy trains, the house was calm. It did not feel loud, or not in a bad way.
You really liked being with the Yamaguchi family. It felt like a real, whole family, that actually functioned well. They were practically the family in the movies – perfect and supportive, no matter what happened they were there for one another. It made you jealous, so jealous, because your so-called family was nowhere near that. But Yamaguchi’s mom acted like a second mother to you, which was something you could never thank her enough for. When you did thank her once, during one of your weak moments when your relationship with your actual mother was at rock bottom, she just gave you one of her smiles and promised you that you were always welcome in this family, and that you had been part of it the moment his son brought you home for the first time. She told you you were the daughter she never had.
That time, you cried to her so hard you thought you had run out of tears forever. And she held you through it, something your mother had never done when you were emotional.
You had to admit that now, chaos did bring you and your mother together during these hard nights, and home felt a lot more like a welcoming place. She was more kind to you, cooked you meals regularly and took care of you. She never locked her bedroom door, in case she needed to run to you immediately to calm and support you after your nightmares. But as time passed, she stopped rushing, meal became less common, and it pained you to know that normally she wouldn’t do this for you, only when you were so deep in shit that you could not take care of yourself.
You were pulled out of your thoughts when all five of you sat down to the table. It was filled with delicious meals and you already felt yourself drooling just by looking at them. Yamaguchi’s mom even made mapo tofu, your favourite.
You put your hands together and said a prayer with your second family, then got to eating. You didn’t really talk while feeding yourself, your thoughts wandered back to the carousel you had been riding for the past three days.
Your nightmares ceased, and your stomach was no longer acting funny. Yes, you did occasionally woke up sweaty and out of breath in the middle of the night, but it was a lot better than it was before. And no new variables appeared – except for the two that you met that night at Yoyogi Park.
You put your left hand under the table, feeling for the glasses in your pocket. You pondered a bit, then pulled it out and put it on yourself. At first, you were afraid of opening your eyes, but when you did, and carefully glanced around, nothing seemed different. You let out a silent, relieved sigh.
"Yoriko-chan, do you wear glasses now?" Himari asked, curious. You snapped your head toward her, as you felt Yamaguchi’s gaze on you. You told him about the glasses, and he did not like this idea Gojo gave you, at all. You knew that.
"Ah, yes, my eyesight is starting to get a bit worse. Guess I’ve read too much manga," you snickered, trying to calm your heart. You saw no ugly fly-rabbits, and that was very good so far.
"I told you two to take better care of your eyes! Kouta, are your eyes okay? Should I take you to a doctor?"
"No, mom, I’m fine," he sighed, digging back to his rice. You knew he was displeased, but… you had to explore whatever fields you could. You knew you would not be able to endure another marathon of non-stop nightmares filled with that monster murdering people.
"I hope so. You two always read so much manga and watch so much anime together. Just keep the lights on and don’t stare at the screen too much, okay?"
You and Yamaguchi let out a "Yes," in unison, then went back to your food.
The rest of your dinner went quietly. When you were finished, you offered to help Himari with the dishes, but she just told you to get some rest as you already cleaned up the table.
Just as you were about to thank her and go back to Yamaguchi’s room, she turned her back to you and your heart skipped a beat.
A purple slug-ish monster was gripping on her back.
No damn way.
"Yoriko-chan? Is someting wrong?" She asked you, turning to you halfway, and you struggled to look away from the creature sticking to her.
"Um, sorry for asking, but has your back been feeling a bit sore lately?" You spoke hesitantly.
"Hm? Oh, yes, it actually has been doing that for a couple of months. I think I just need to start exercising a bit more, I have been falling back on my yoga lately," she hummed, and turned back to the dishes.
The slug looked at you and spun its eyes around.
You were sick to your stomach.
"Thank you for the lunch," you sputtered and almost ran up to Yamaguchi’s room to get your phone. He was already upstairs, and tried to signal you his disapproval towards the glasses, but you were focused on your mission. "I’ll be back in a sec, need to handle a phone call."
And with that, you were already out of the house, standing on the pavement as you pressed the call button. Your feet bounced under you anxiously while you waited for the phone to be picked up.
"Moshi-moshi, Shidou-chaan?" A familiar voice spoke, but you were not up for small-talk now. You felt you had no time to waste.
"I put on the glasses and there is a creepy slug-ish thing on a person’s back. How do I get it off?"
"Ohoho, I guess we got you good after all," he mused, but since you were creeped out and scared – and frankly, still doubted this whole thing altogether – you just ignored that sentence.
"How do I get it off?" You asked again, repeating your words irritated. There was a sigh on the other side of the line, but soon came over Gojo’s light voice.
"Do you have the case for the glasses? Open it up and search for an inner pocket. You’re gonna find two dark coloured rods in it. Pull them out."
You did as he told you and found the flat sticks. There were unfamiliar kanjis itched on it. They were a little longer than your palm, but surprisingly heavy for their sizes. So that’s why the case was larger than the glasses themselves. "Got it," you replied.
"Good. Now take one each in your hands and hold them like you were taking a pinch of salt. They’re small so they won’t fit entirely in your hands, place them mainly between your index finger and thumb."
"Okay," you said. "Now what do I do with them?"
"You sneak up behind the person the curse is on and hit it with them. Try to aim for the head, and hit from right to left, lift your arms up high and use gravity to your advantage. Make sure to not hit the person, though, that can hurt real bad," he explained, giggling at the end. "Oh, and call me back when you’re done! I want to know how my newest student did at her first exorcism!"
He hung up suddenly, and you were left on the pavement alone, with two strange sticks in your hand. You glanced at them, and decided it was now or never. You went back into the house, and sure as well, Himari was still doing the dishes. You decided to not take any chances and walked behind her.
"Himari-san, can I try something with you?" You asked, your heartbeat in your throat as you held the instruments the way Gojo told you. The slug was wiggling on her back, spinning its eyes around again. "It’s an experiment, uh, from something I read online."
"Ah, sure, what do I need to do?" She said, ever so eager to help. This sweet woman.
"Nothing, just stand right where you are. Try to move as little as possible.
"Oh, okay."
You took a deep breath, readied your arms and while focusing on the repulsive thing on her back. You lifted the rods and abruptly slashed downwards, aiming for the creature’s head. It was not elegant, but surprisingly, you hit bulls-eye, and the slug shook. Just a few seconds later it burst open, to which you closed your eyes and flinched back, but by the time you looked at Himari’s back again, it was gone.
It was gone!
A strange sense of pride flowed through you as you lowered your arms. Did it work? Did you help her?
"How does your back feel now?" You spoke, to which she rolled her shoulders and stretched a bit, then let out a surprised yowl.
"Huh, it doesn’t hurt anymore!" She turned around, her face carrying a little shocked mimic. "What did you do?"
"Oh, uh, I don’t know?" You said, more asking than answering. You were just as surprised as she was.
"Well, whatever you did, you can keep going because it feels really relieving!" She chuckled, while turning back to the sink.
"I think… I will," You smiled to yourself.
* * *
Gojo heard a buzz coming from his phone. He looked down to see a text from you.
It worked, thank you.
- Yoriko Shidou
He smiled and locked the screen.
It seemed like Jujutsu Tech would be welcoming a new student this year.
