#domestic au but it’s not really an au it’s just the show | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ajellybee · 1 day ago

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Tamed: Sukuna x Fem!Reader

⟢ CW!!: NSFW MDNI, 3.8k words, not proofread, excuse typos.. Freak frat boy Sukuna, virgin fem reader, college au, attempts of plot, no protection WRAP IT UP CHAT!!!, first time, cunnilingus, girl idk if thats all. You get the idea!! Virgin pussy so good you domesticated your whore of a best friend.

⟢🐝notes: this is my first time trying to do like, a full-fleshed fic so it might be a little rough…hope you enjoy tho!!!

The HC that this was based off of here!

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“Hey, girl. You’re Sukuna’s friend right”. Not only has this girl been your lab partner all semester, but you guys also shared classes freshman year. You rolled your eyes because you know what’s coming next. Sukuna and you have been friends since junior year of high school. You got stuck with him for a project and you guys kind of just stuck. Sukuna also has a reputation for himself, being the class whore, even in high school, but since you guys started college it's gotten..so much worse. Even when he was a freshman the senior girls wanted a piece of him.

You on the other hand were not as familiar in his field of expertise. Sure there were boyfriends here and there but you never went ALL the way, they were too eager to get their dicks wet and didn't care anything about your pleasure, so the virginity is still intact!!

“Yes I know him, no he doesn’t want you, he’s with someone” It wasn't an entire lie. He was always down for a good fuck and he changes girls like clockwork, but he mentioned “scoring a hottie” earlier. The girl’s smile and friendly attitude towards you disappeared as if it was never there. Really it was annoying, dealing with your best friend’s shit. At this point, he needs to make announcements when he’s ready for the next girl.

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“Sukuna I swear to every god out there, if one more girl approaches me trying to get in your pants, I'm killing you and them myself” He’s lying across your dorm bed scrolling through his phone. When he is not on his freak nasty agenda, he could be found in your room. You were able to score a single and he isn’t all too fond of his roommate. Seemingly not really listening to you he continues to scroll, causing you to kick his side. He thought it was funny, cute almost, how upset you got over this. It was the same argument every other week. He just wishes it came from a place of jealousy not inconvenience.

“Woman I have no control over that. Not my fault this dick makes them crazy” he smirks at you making you scoff.

“God you're disgusting...get off my covers you’re dirty” you playfully(kind of) try and kick him off the foot of your bed. He quickly grabs your feet and pins them under his body, not budging despite your attempts to pull them free.

“Don't be grouchy cuz you haven't gotten laid yet, brat”

“Girl you fuck enough for the both of us, and like five more people. I’m good, trust.” You put emphasis on the last bit as you finally tug your feet free. “freak…”

“Anyways, look this was the girl I was telling you about” He shows you an Instagram page on his phone. Sukuna looked for any flash of jealousy in your face, but you gave him nothing. You used to like him back in High school, but liking him hurt too much. With every new girl and every story he’d tell you of said girl ripped away at you. To protect yourself you buried that feeling way way WAY deep down and you're fine with your relationship as it is now. Now you were indifferent, it's his life. Whatever.

“Oh she’s pretty, how long is this one gonna last tho”

“Don't know. She’s fine as fuck so maybe two weeks?” Again, no reaction to his statement, at least not the one he wanted. Sukuna? oh sukuna wanted you bad, but you never showed interest, if anything it felt like the opposite, and he didn't want to mess up what he did have with you, so he never pushed.

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For the next couple of days you've been, unwillingly, thinking about sex. Blame ovulation or blame the overwhelming talk of sex in your friend group ever since your best friend lost her virginity. But you really saw no point in trying again, with how disappointing and unwilling all your past intimate (if you can even call it that) experiences have been. The talk you had with Gojo didn’t help either. You made a small comment and he poked and prodded until you spilled everything, even the part that you’ve been craving that experience.

“Well, you could ask Toji, You know that one senior. I heard he loves virgins!” That’s what the idiot told you, sure was a joke, but it could work. Toji, much like sukuna, has a reputation for being a campus whore, but his favorite go-to-girls, were virgins. He always boasted about all the V-cards he took, and how good he was at it, ruining them for their future partners. But what has also been running through your mind was what Shoko told you.

“It would be better if you had sex with someone you trust?”

“You’ve been friends with Sukuna for a long time, no? Why not him?” suguru added. You sat on that for a long time too. Sukuna was your best friend, and you do trust him. From the stories he’s told you himself you wouldn’t be left disappointed. The thing is, Sukuna never showed interest in you, strictly platonic. Sure he never gave up the chance of a good fuck, but with you being a virgin or him not seeing you in that light because of your friendship, the “what ifs” drove you insane, but after much deliberation, you came up with a conclusion, and hey, the worst he could do is say no. You got to your dorm and built up the courage to call him.

“Oh?? I thought you were avoiding me. You miss me now?” you could hear the annoying smirk on his face.

“You know what never mind” you were ready to hang up, deciding on plan B, but as you pulled your phone away he interrupted.

“Okay okay, what's up?” Sukuna always dropped whatever he was doing for you, even if that meant not hooking up with the girl he was telling you about. He quickly pushed her out ignoring all her protests and angry huffs. Maybe you saved him cuz her whining was pissing him off.

“Can you come over?” Your face burned knowing what you were going to ask once he got there. You were determined to get it over with, and you had a plan B if he said no. no biggy no biggy… you just need to ask your best friend to fuck you.

Sukuna arrived at your door quicker than you expected (he was already on his way to your dorm before you even asked him to go over). Opening the door, you let him in and he immediately got comfortable sitting on the edge of your bed.

“Okay, so what's up?” He’s pretending to be normal about it. But with the way you sounded over the phone he was thinking a million things and expecting nothing at the same time, but what you would say next will stop his heart.

“Let me speak, no interruptions.” You waited for confirmation, catching on Sukuna nodded and waited for you to continue. It was like floodgates opened the way you confessed “Okay good. So… I want to lose my virginity. And, and I trust you the most out of everyone I know. It's okay if you say no, I won't take it to heart and besides, I have a plan B so it’s totally, totally fine.” it didn't feel as bad once you finished, although you didn't mean to add that last part. What happens, happens. You're comfortable with your relationship with sukuna so this should mean nothing to him, so you thought. Sukuna on the other hand, was not feeling the same relief, well he was until you mentioned a plan B.

“Plan B? And who the fuck is that” he stood up towering over you, eyebrow arched.

“Oh well, gojo told me about Toji..you know him” The way he looked down on you was doing something, you felt something you hadn’t felt from another person in a while, Arousal.

“Gojo is an idiot don't ever take advice from him” Sukuna regained a little of his composure after recalling your words. So he was plan A? “So you want me to fuck you, baby?” his hands found their way to your waist, pulling you to his chest. He liked the way you looked up at him.

“Yes..” it came out barely a whisper, but sukuna wasn't having that.

“Sorry? What was that?” he leaned his ear down towards you. Oh so he’s gonna tease? You should have known.

“damn it.. Fuck, Yes, Sukuna. I want you” The words came out so breathy and desperate it surprised you. Sukuna noticed it as well and that fueled him even more as he slid his hands under your shirt and up your back. His warm hands felt like fire across your skin. He pushed you flush against his chest as his lips brushed against yours, breath fanning your face.

“You gonna undress or do you want me to do it for you” a snicker left his lips as he watched you pout.

“Kuna be nice…” but nonetheless you stepped back and slowly peeled off each article of clothing, revealing more and more to sukuna. The tightening in his pants became more apparent once he saw you completely bare. He knew you'd be beautiful, but this level of imperfection felt illegal. Every peak and curve of yours looked so plush and soft, he wanted to kiss every inch of you. He wanted to caress your hips and feel as the goosebumps rose on your skin. But it wasn’t like him to voice all of that. Approaching you again, he leaned down and brushed his lips on yours again, but this time he kisses you.

“Nice rack” Ignoring the sarcastic response you gave him in return, he reaches up to cup one of your breasts feeling the weight of it. His thumb brushed over your pebbling nipple, and the soft sigh you left out was better than he ever imagined. Sukuna pulled you towards your bed, making you lay back on your pillows. He pulled your thighs apart, but you quickly snapped them shut. “Well, how will you lose your V-card like that, let me see baby?” he slapped your thigh lightly urging you to open up again. Once you do he groans as you spread your lips for him, already so wet there were strings of arousal connecting. The two of you stayed like that for a while, you spreading yourself for him and Sukuna watching every twitch and clench. “Have any of them made you cum before?” you shake your head. He wanted to hunt them all down, but that’s for another time. “Have you ever made yourself cum?” you nod. “Then show me, sweetness.” he leans back on his heels. Sukuna had dreamed of being in this situation for so long, he’s going to make the most of it.

“Kuna…I-” he raises his eyebrow at you again waiting for you to follow instructions. As instructed you brought one hand to circle around your clit. The way his eyes focused on the way you circled your bundle of nerves made even more slick drip from your pussy. You brought your other hand up to pinch and pull on one of your hardened nipples. Sukuna couldn't help but palm at his bulge, the ache too much to ignore as you sped up.

“Put your fingers inside” he urged nearly drooling

“But that's never felt good when they did it” you whine moving your fingers faster. You were already close like this. Between the feeling of your own fingers and the way he watched, was enough to send you over the edge, but that was cut short. Sukuna huffed and slapped your hand away. The feeling of your orgasm depleting ripped a sob from your throat, but you were quickly shut up by one of his fingers prodding at your hole.

“I'm not them” and with that he ducked his head between your thighs and watched the way your cunt sucked his finger in, just begging for another. He grew dizzy with the sweet musk that was coming from you. Sukuna could not believe he was face to face with what he dreamed about. His lips made their way to your pulsating bulb, giving it gentle kisses before enveloping it completely and giving you a harsh suck. You've never been touched like this before and this new sensation sent electricity throughout your whole body. Why didn’t you ask Sukuna to do this sooner? The rumors about him were true.

“K-Kunaa, moree. M-more” your back arched so prettily for him when he added another finger, saying something about “yer greedy cunt” but the pleasure he was giving you was so overwhelming you couldn’t really focus on anything. He moved away from your clit down to get a taste of you, thumbing at your bundle of nerves while finally getting a taste of your honey pot. The groans he let out went straight to your cunt making you ooze more, earning more groans of approval.

“Mm, you taste so sweet~. Can't believe it took so long for me to get a taste” he watched your face contort into that of pleasure and he wanted so badly to sink inside you, but he was enjoying being between your thighs too much to quit now. As soon as he started to fuck his tongue inside of your hole he couldn’t help but rut his hips against your sheets. The taste of you was making sukuna absolutely drunk. Never in his life has some pussy made him so desperate to nearly cream in his own boxers. He made mental notes of every reaction you had, recording every twitch and shiver you had to memory.

You heard stories but you didn’t know just how messy of an eater he was. The sounds of him devouring you were so sinful and embarrassing, but the sound of him slurping and lapping at your cunt brought you closer and closer to cloud nine. If it wasn't for the vice grip you had on Sukuna’s pink locks or the way he pinned you down by your thighs you fear you’d simply float away. And oh when he locked eyes with you as he pinched your clit you saw a glimpse of the pearly gates. Your thighs clamped around his head as he drank everything you gave him. He continued to lap at your twitching pussy pushing you towards overstimulation. If sukuna had it his way he would have spent another three hours with his face buried in your cunt, but you were desperately trying to push his head away with soft moans of “kuna please”. Reluctantly he parted away from you with a kiss to your clenching hole and sat back on his knees admiring his handy work. Your pussy was a wet mess of your slik and his spit and oh did it make his dick jump with the way you lazily palmed at your breast, pupils completely blown as you wait for what you wanted, what you needed from him.

“S-sukuna that was ssoo good” You watched as he whipped your remaining juices off his mouth and chin smirking wildly.

“Told you I wasn’t like those little boys you fucked around with” he leaned down capturing your lips in a passionate kiss that took no time to develop into a clash of tongue and teeth. The taste of yourself on his tongue made you moan into his mouth. The throbbing you felt started to become more and more unbearable as he kissed down your neck biting and nibbling here and there.

“Fuck… hurry I wanna feel you” You spread your legs making more room for him, bucking your hips up in desperate attempts to feel him. Sukuna groaned at the sight, wasting no time to discard his clothes, freeing his aching erection from the confines of his sweats. The size of him made you drip even more. How could you crave something so much when you've never had it? You don’t know but the need for him is burning through you. You wanna taste him, taste the pretty pearlescent pre that leaks from his tip in fat globs, lick the vein running on the underside of his cock, suck on the tip, feel the weight of him in your mouth, and see if he lets out pretty moans of your name. But you’ll save that for next time, hopefully, there will be a next time. Without realizing it you began to rub your clit as you watched him, his voice snapped you out of the trance.

“Cock drunk already? Playing with that pretty pussy just from the sight of my cock, oh I'm flattered” he cooed as he crawled back between your legs, heavy cock bobbing with his movements. His arrogance always got to you, but in this setting it made you crave him more. His cockieness made your cunt throb with anticipation. All you did in response was whine, something sukuna wasn't used to. No snarky sarcastic comeback, no punches, just whines and your hands desperately trying to pull him closer and it was driving him absolutely insane. He grabbed the base of his cock and lined it up with your entrance, dragging the tip up and down your slit and circled around your swollen clit a couple more times. The warmth radiating off of you felt soo good on him, but you guided his face to look back up at you causing him to stop his movements.

“ ‘Kuna...w-wait. Please, could you be gentle?” the question came out barely audible, the vulnerability made your cheeks burn. He smiled in return, not his normal shit-eating grin, but one of sincerity.

“ ‘Couse pretty baby. Need you to enjoy your first time, cant ruin my rep now can I?” he leaves a kiss on your forehead, and then goes down to capture your lips, not the clash of teeth and tongue as before. This one felt like more. In truth sukuna cared nothing for his reputation, as of right now he wanted to make you feel as good as possible. The newfound gentleness was new territory for him, but for you it felt like he needed to take his time and do things right. After giving you reassurance and promises of taking care of you, you gave sukuna the “okay” he needed to finally push into you. He felt the way you tensed up at the intrusion, but he was quick to shush you, kissing the tears away as he played with you clit to distract you from the stretch with each inch he sank into you.

“Oh f-*hic*-uck, it’s...you’re so much I-. more please more” The feeling of him pressed all the way in you was nothing like you’ve felt. The stretch melted from uncomfort to unfathomable pleasure and you needed more. The twitch you felt from him inside you let you know that he felt just as good. In one swift motion, he pulled out just to the tip and pushed back in, the drag of him against your walls making you clench.

“Fuck your so t-ight even after all that work. You gotta relax… baby, f-fuck” his brows knitted together. The vice grip you had on him is going to make him cum prematurely, and he can’t have that. You tried your best to relax some but the way he fucked into you was way too good, and when he angled his hips up it was over. Your breath hitched, you've never reached that spot yourself and now you were seeing stars with the way he abused it. Over and over he bullied himself into you and right to that spongy spot. The moans you let out of his name only fueled sukuna more, rutting into you faster and harder. He promised to be gentle but the way you squeeze and drip around him made that impossible. The sound of your squelching pussy and his balls smacking against your ass was intoxicating, addicting. The sudden fluttering of your walls broke sukuna out his trance.

“Kunnaaa I-Ithink..c-cum. I’mgonna cum” you moaned and moaned as you wrapped your arms around his neck pulling him down for a kiss. Your moans were swallowed up by him in the messy kiss, mixed drool rolling down your chin. He pulled away pressin his forehead against yours whispering praises on how good you're making him feel and how good you're taking him.

“If you're gonna cum, cum. Lemme see what pretty face you make when you feel good” and the huskyness of his voice was the last push you needed to cream all over him. You arched off the bed, eyes rolling to the back of your head as silent moans left you. The spasms of your walls hurled him towards his own release. The way you try and milk him and suck his cock back in makes his thrusts sloppy. “Oh fu-ck, fuck. Youfeelsogood. So good. Virgin pussy is mine, taking my cock so well. Tell me its mine, yeah? Mine to fuck mine to- shit im gonna cum, whe-” his babbles get cut off before he can even finish his question.

“In-inside. Please i wanna feel you inside” and at that moment Sukuna makes a mental note to delete his booty call list. You are all he wants, all he needs. With the last remnants of his composure, he folds you completely in half, reaching even deeper than before. He felt so impossibly deep you swear you could feel his cockhead in your womb.

“Fuck you're too good. Want me to fill you up? Fill up your pussy, yeah? Augh! Are you c-cuming again? Oh Oh-” he moans the loudest he’s ever had as he falls over on you. His body going completely stiff as thick ropes or his hot cum fill you to the brim. Sukuna was derailed by how caught off guard he was by his own orgasm. He has never came as hard as he did, body trembling as he tried to ride out both your highs. And oh he came so much, you feel both your releases oozing out before he even pulls out. The two of you stay like that for a little while, kisses here and there. Coos and caresses exchanged.

“Thank you, Ryo…I think I get why you're a whore now.” and you break into a fit of giggles as he rolls his eyes in response.

“Yeah whatever. You shoulda let me hit sooner baby.” he said kissing the corner of your mouth

“Baby? You called me that a lot. Am I your baby?” you raised an eyebrow jokingly, attempting to tease him,

“You wanna be? Sweetheart just say the word and im yours. All yours, Only yours” he was serious this time, no hint of playfulness, no teasing.

“Take me out on a date”

“I already started planning it”

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⟢🐝notes: Sooor sorry it took so long chat. Hiii new followers hiiiii, sorry if you were waiting on this for too long （；´д｀）ゞ. I would blame college and work but like, also i've been doing nothing but play stardew 🌚. I HOPE IT WAS OKAY!!! Again im always open to feedback! And maybe i’ll do requests?? Idk if i have time ill do it. I think asks are open? Im fairly new to creating on here so idk...

Okay baiiiiiii (≧∇≦)ﾉ

#jjk smut #jjk x reader #sukuna smut #modern sukuna x reader #sukuna x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #sukuna #sukuna ryoumen smut

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fairytsuk1 · 10 hours ago

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no caller id | (s)

apart of maki's kinktober: the 2024 anthology

prompt: ghostface, exhibition/voyeurism, stalking

pairing: alex quackity x reader

words: 6.1k

warnings: scream!au, mentions of murder and violence, stalking, exhibition and voyeurisms, stockholm syndrome, friends to lovers, masturbation, phone sex, oral sex, vaginal sex, condom usage

There were few things you and Alex disagreed on. You had your moments, sure, but you were thick as thieves. Anyone and everyone could see that. You were his, and he was yours, “it’s totally not romantic, just platonic companionship!”

So, you got along well. Horror movies, though… That was one unfortunate, disagreeable thing between you two. You would go all in with the popcorn and the candy and top it off with a fuzzy blanket draped over your form. Alex would signify his leave the minute you got comfortable before acquiescing and sitting next to you, face anxious and full of fear as he sat still.

He just wasn’t the type of person to indulge in such media. That’s why seeing Alex so enthralled in the Ghostface killings happening around town was so utterly shocking. He flips his phone towards you, and you’re graced with gory crime scene photos and a news article, “Alex! I don’t wanna see that.”

Alex sighs and nods before showing you another photo as he leans across your countertops. He’d come over for a late-night study session, but after too many Celsius drinks, it was safe to say that you were not going to pass your exam.

“This happened right by your dorm! You should see, you’ve gotta stay safe with that killer out there.”

He says it in the midst of your kitchen, wearing your too-big t-shirt and too-big sweatpants. He was fretting over you. It’s so domestic, your heart squeezes at the fond way he gazes at you; he’s warmth and love that tastes like the finest wine. You couldn’t get too distracted admiring the dotted freckles on his cheeks and wisps of dark hair, no. That wasn’t platonic of you. You shake your head, “I don’t care. I just don’t wanna get freaked out by that stuff.”

Alex hums and scrolls some more. He’s withholding, and your fingers come to poke at his ribs, “what?”

“You probably don’t want to know who died then, huh?”

“What do you mean?”

You give him an incredulous look with raised eyebrows. Alex makes a face and looks away before snapping back to look at you. He hems and haws before the words slip past his lips faster than he can stand them.

“Carlos Rodriguez, ring a bell? Says here he was dismembered walking home–”

“Oh god! Stop, that’s…” horrifying.

“That was the guy you went on a date with,” he pops a grape into his mouth like it was the most casual thing in the world, “right?”

“Yeah, yeah. It was.”

He observes you for a moment. Your eyes look guilty, and he can’t place why. It makes something inside of him twinge. He’s rounding the counter in seconds and wrapping an arm around your shoulder in a protective embrace. Alex smells like warm musk, spicy with a hint of cinnamon. You instinctively curl towards him and bury your face in his neck. He was always comforting.

Alex preens when you go in for the hug, feeling your chest squish against his as he pulls you close to him, “it’s alright. He’s in a better place now! You have me; I’ll keep you safe.”

It’s a sweet sentiment. As if Ghostface would come after the two of you. You try not to hone in on his ‘you have me.’ He was considerate of your feelings and wanted to make you feel safe. Your heart pitter-patters in your chest. His hand rubs small circles on your back, and you shudder, pressing closer to his warmth.

You both stay like that. Alex keeps you enveloped within him for as long as he can, purring soft comforts into the shell of your ear. His lips brush against the sensitive skin before he picks you up into his arms and drags you to the couch.

“Come on. It’s movie night!”

It doesn’t really leave your mind, though, even as you sidle up close to Alex while re-watching your favorite movies.

“And you’ve known Alex for how long?”

A gaggle of your friends sit around your dorm, Christina being the first to start the interrogation. It’d been a week since Carlos had been killed, and you’d been spending all your time with Alex. It was for safety, you said. It’s just so nothing happens, you reiterated. Your friends knew better.

“Five years? Six?”

“Oh my god! He wants to date you,” Imane exclaims. “It’s obvious, he buys your lunch, you guys cuddle: you just need to man up!”

“Woman up,” Noah emphasizes before sipping on his beer. “But I agree, he’s got it bad for you.”

You sit in the center with flushed cheeks, “we’re just friends, guys!”

“Friends who wanna fuck,” Christina adds with a laugh.

“But isn’t it suspicious he hasn’t made a move yet? Like, what’s he waiting for?”

“Guys, come on. He’s not bad or suspicious or anything! He’s just shy…”

You defend your man, but Noah blurts out the unthinkable. The inconceivable.

“Maybe he’s Ghostface!”

The silence was deafening against your speakers, humming a tune of bedroom pop; you could hear your blood rushing in your ears. You all pin Noah with a deep stare. How could he say that?

“That’s not funny, Noah.”

“I’m not saying anything! I’m just saying maybe he doesn’t want to date you because he’s too busy chopping up people’s bodies or something.”

“Noah! Enough,” you cry with hands covering your ears. “I’m not listening to you! I don’t want to listen to you.”

“Listennn, I like the guy. Trust-wise? He’s on my list.”

What if he was? Can you tell? You’re not sure, and you think about it for a while. There was something about the Ghostface persona that you’d initially joked about being hot, but that was before it hit so close to home. You were unsure and unsettled. Alex couldn’t be capable of something so horrid. He was your best friend and, admittedly, your crush. It just wasn’t believable.

You’re stuck in your head for the rest of the kickback. Alex had said he couldn’t come; he was “swamped with homework.” It wasn’t exactly believable since you shared a Google Calendar together: even more definitive proof of you two toeing the line between friends and lovers, a sentiment echoed by your friend group.

The sun sets into an inky black night, and your friends are filed out of the room. You’re left alone and freezing. A hot shower might do you some good. You take your time. The bathroom fills with its warm steam as you turn the knob and let your clothes drop one by one. Your phone rings. Your wrist is dampened from the brief spray of water, pulling out your arm to decline the call.

They call again, and you’re huffing as you swing your phone up to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Hello,” a gritty voice filters through and purrs your name. “Getting ready for bed?”

You know in your heart who it is. That telltale voice, the way he repeated your name… Ghostface had asked you a question, and your legs tremble as your mouth gapes, “it’s in your best interest to answer.”

“Yes! Yes, I am,” you squeak out.

“That’s nice. I like your panties. Teddy bears? How cute.”

“How do you know that?”

Your voice is firm, yet its slightest wobble makes Ghostface chuckle. This couldn’t be happening. It was impossible. The shower drips and sputters in the background as your breathing grows heavier. It was impossible.

“Let’s play a game. Tell me your favorite scary movie.”

Unshed tears glisten in your eyes, “I don’t want to.”

“You have to. What’s your favorite scary movie?”

“I don’t know! Please, I don’t–”

“I’m not gonna kill you, so just answer the fucking question, pretty girl.”

Rivulets of tears stream down your cheeks as you choke out an answer. The panic and sickening arousal courses through you. He kept complimenting you, making you feel all gooey inside, all while the threat of his power loomed over you like a fog that grew thicker every moment you stood in fear. He grew on your fear, he devoured it whole.

“I like the Chucky movies.”

Ghostface laughs, and it’s so familiar, but then he’s going from joyful to mad as he teases you over the phone.

“Ah, with the doll? Not as big of a fan of me, hmm?”

“Y-You’re scaring me,” you whisper, phone clenched in your fist. “What do you want from me?”

There’s a deep pause before he continues.

“I just wanted to play with you before bed. You should show yourself off more,” he hums and then sighs. “Enjoy the shower, pretty.”

He can’t help but add, “you don’t know what you do to me.”

Click. Ghostface hangs up, and your dreadful face stares back at you in the mirror. Were you meant to feel slick between your thighs as Ghostface lulled sweet compliments towards your body? No, it was wrong! It was so bad that you had to gnaw on your lip to prevent yourself from pressing the “call back” button.

Water streams down your forehead and nose, pooling at your feet before sliding down the drain. Your hands run through your soaked strands with a slight tremble as you sniffle, wondering if that murderer stands under a similar stream of water to watch crimson flow down the drain. You can’t get it out of your head as you towel off and slip on silky pajamas. Your heavy body sinks into the covers, and you stare at the ceiling. It’s almost on instinct for you to reach over with a huff and pull up Alex’s contact.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“I can’t sleep,” you murmur as you fiddle with the hem of your shirt. “Will you come over?”

You can hear him yawn, and you’re quick to apologize even as he waves you off, “don’t worry about it.”

“I’ll be there soon.”

Barely ten minutes pass by before a gentle knock sounds at your door. There’s a stream of light as he enters that shines and is then blown out when he closes the door behind him.

Alex tiptoes in, toeing his shoes off by the door, “I’m here.”

You’re already breathing heavily and scooting over to give him more room. Alex looks at your sleepy eyes that stare back at him in the dark, joining you and slipping under your fluffy duvet to get close to you. You aren’t touching, but you’re so damn close. You need him closer, and the need to feel his skin against yours is overwhelming your entire being.

“Can we cuddle?”

Alex adjusts with his head on his hand, arm bent, and lying on your pillow as you snuggle a little closer, “yeah. C’mere.”

A buff arm wraps around your figure, and it’s heavenly. You tuck your face into the crook of his neck and inhale his freshly showered scent, making you instantly relax in his arms. Your feet tangle with his, and he lets out a soft hiss at the cool feeling of your toes against his ankles. You both fall asleep, tangled in soft breaths, and the comfort of muscle looped around you. As you dream of nothingness, it then turns into something hapless.

“...Alex?”

Your voice is dreamy and wispy. You can hardly speak out, let alone yell out. Ghostface and Alex sit facing each other, and you call louder, eyes fluttering and blurring as you draw closer. You know it’s a dream, but you can’t help but take it as fact, as reality.

“What are you doing?”

They both turn towards you, Ghostface’s mask shaped in a long, menacing grin as he tilts his head towards you. Blood starts seeping from the edges of the mask and runs down its contours as it continues staring into your soul. You turn towards Alex, horrified to see him with a sickening grin as ruby red drops splatter on his face, “what’s wrong?”

There’s no reply as they both reach for you in a desperate bid to make you join whatever fucked-up seated circle they were reveling in. Revelling. That was the reason Alex was smiling. You awake with a gasping start.

It’s hard to focus on classes, on homework, on your relationships. You’d be holed up in libraries and study rooms with your ringer on in case another killing happened. They did happen, two in the same week. You couldn’t stop thinking, wondering if he’d sweet-talked his victims before brutally shoving the knife in deep till the fight leaked out of them. Did he call them, too?

You’d have told anyone, but there was no one to tell. Your friends would encourage you to tell the police, and there was no excuse for hiding something as crucial as a phone call from Ghostface. You’d be vilified within seconds. You couldn’t tell Alex, and it wasn’t even your fault. Alex had been distant. Busy, he’d said. Liar, you bit back.

He blew you off on the days you typically get lunch. He packed his bag up quickly as he bid you goodbye. The eye bags on his face only got darker and deeper, you were feeling worried. Maybe he was just as affected by the killings as you were. Just as affected by Ghostface as you were. It was still hurtful.

It hurt even more, knowing that your heart would beat rabbit fast at the thought of him. It was clear now, crystal. You liked Alex; you only wanted Alex. You thought this was mutual. You cuddled, were close, and shared your first kiss at a dumb high school party. Maybe he didn’t feel the same or care about your crestfallen expression as he urged ahead to leave class early.

You tried to repeat to yourself that he was just busy. Though you were unaware of it in his absence, Ghostface had you right where he wanted you. Open, pliable and all his. The phone rings.

“Hello?”

“Hi,” Ghostface elongates your name, and you can hear his smirk through the phone. “How are you?”

You should just hang up. You shouldn’t even entertain it, he needed to leave you alone. You press the phone closer to your ear.

“Please, stop calling me!”

“Mmm, no. I want to talk to you. Don’t deny me.”

“You just wanna talk because you’re a freak,” you retort and sit up in bed with your hands angrily fisting the sheets. “Leave me alone.”

“Freak?”

Ghostface bursts into a peal of deep laughter. It’s mocking, and you wonder if he’s watching you.

“The only freak here is you refusing to hang up the phone.”

“I-I’m not refusing! I’ll hang up right now–”

“But you won’t,” he interjects quickly. “I know you won’t.”

“And how do you know that? Maybe I’ll call the police!”

“I know you won’t do that, either.”

He’s right. You’re too stricken and impulsive, fighting every word he says with a monologue. Your teeth worry your lips as you take a deep breath, “are you watching me right now? Like in the shower?”

“Yes,” his breathing seems deeper. “I’m watching you right now. You look fantastic.”

“I’m just in my pajamas.”

“I like how they look.”

You shouldn’t indulge in this any longer. It was so wrong, and you were making yourself so vulnerable. Socked feet cross as you turn to glance out your window; there’s nothing there.

“You do?”

“Yes.”

A hand that has a mind of its own comes to the hem of your shirt. The mingled breaths between you two nearly echo on the call, and you’re slipping a hand under the cotton to touch your stomach.

“That’s a nice sight,” and there’s a rustling of fabric as he seemingly shifts positions. “What do you think you’re doing, hmm?”

“Testing you. If you were gonna kill me, you would’ve done it when I was in the shower.”

“I’m not so cliché.”

“Really? I beg to differ,” and you’re not sure where the confidence comes to set your phone down and peel your top off from your body.

Your nipples harden instantly as the cool air. You sit with your chest exposed and a rapid heartbeat, quickly putting the phone to your ear just to catch the briefest groan, “are you still there?”

“Of course. Take off your shorts.”

His command makes you hesitate. Were you really going to go through with this? Ghostface’s voice crackles in the still air, “don’t be shy.”

The drawstring is undone in seconds, loose fabric slipping down your thighs to your ankles before you unceremoniously kick them away.

“There, I did it,” you whisper as if someone was listening to your debauched call. There’s a long stretch of silence and rustling. “Hello?”

“You look really sexy like this,” he whispers in a breathy tone.

If you listen even closer, the wet squelch of him fisting his cock is obvious. Your hand starts at your collarbone and dips to squeeze your tits, “aah…!”

“Play with them, let me see.”

It doesn’t matter that he’s watching you from God knows where; your eyes slip closed as pathetic mewls escape your lips with every grope of your fingers.

“A-Ah, fuck,” you whisper before laying back to let another hand follow the curve of your sternum to the flat of your tummy. Ghostface openly moans when your manicure nails brush against your waistband. He moves his hand faster; you’re intoxicated by every ‘thwip’ of his fist as he jerks off.

“I wish I could touch,” his grunts echo, and he teases himself lewdly with his thumb running over his leaky slit. “I-I’ll fuck you so good.”

Your clit is throbbing when you finally start rubbing pathetic little circles. Writhing, your lips part to breathily whine out, “Ghostfaceee!”

“Ohmy, fuck. Put them inside. Fuck yourself, pretty.”

It’s easy to do what he says, your whole greedily sucks your fingers in deep. Your hand tweaks your nipple while your toes dig into your plush bed, “fffuck me! Oh my god, feels so good!”

“Gonna blow my load all over you—ngh, shit. I can’t wait to touch you for real. Yeah, yeah; fuck. Soak ’em for me.”

Ghostface’s rambling spurs you on, and your fingers rub right against that spongy spot that makes you convulse and gush all over your hand.

“Oh, fuuuck!”

Your face presses hard into the pillows as he cums. You could imagine his hips popping up as he came all over his knuckles. A few minutes pass, and the only thing audible is your mingling breath while you both come down from your eyes.

The phone is pressed to your ear as you eagerly ask if he’s still there.

“I am,” he says slowly. “Have a good night.”

“W-Wait!”

You call back several times, but they all go unanswered. He leaves you spoiled and naked in bed with a slick drying on your inner thighs.

The post-nut clarity left you sleepless and wondering if you had just made the biggest mistake of your life.

The guilt wears down on you like a weighted blanket; every square inch of your body can’t stop imagining the voice, and the guilt coats you in another heavy layer of shame. You try to fight back, but the fabric is never-ending, and you’re useless against its power.

You had to tell someone. Anyone. It has to be Alex; no one else needs to know anything other than him.

[you]: hey

[you]: will you come over?

[you]: need to talk to you

[alex]: be there in a few <3

The heart makes you smile. Locking your phone and setting it aside, you tug your knees to your chest in waiting. How would you tell him? More like admitting to him since you were undoubtedly hiding this fact of admiration because it was so shameful and wrong. Alex knocks lightly on your door, and your voice is shaky when you call, “come in!”

He looks calm, if a bit confused. Alex’s eyes scan you before sitting beside you on your plush bed. He always looks at you with those amber eyes that show pure devotion.

“What’s got you all wound up, huh?”

A gentle hand releases your knees from your embrace, Alex’s arm slinking past the back of your neck to cup you close by the shoulder. You tuck yourself into his side with ease. He hums for a bit, rousing you with a shake.

“Hello?”

“Sorry, it’s just… I don’t know. Something happened.”

“What happened? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yes! I’m okay,” you take a deep breath, and your head tilts up to peer at him with anxious eyes. “Just don’t freak out that bad, okay?”

He doesn’t reply, only maintaining eye contact as his thumb rubs circles into your soft skin.

“Ghostface… called me. We had a conversation.”

“...What?”

He says your name with a laugh, “you probably just got prank called!”

“No, Alex. I’m serious! Please,” you grab his shirt and tug him so close that your noses brush. “I talked to Ghostface, seriously. You need to believe me.”

“How do you even know it was really him, hm?”

Oh, you knew. The telltaletelltale scratchy voice. The deep, mirthy laugh. How he coaxed you to orgasm through simple words of, “you can go harder than that; I’ve seen you.”

“I-I just know. It was him, he was stalking me.”

“Okay… so Ghostface is coming after you?”

“I don’t know what he’s planning! I guess so,” you bury your face into his beauty mark-dotted neck. “I don’t know what to do. What if he’s just waiting to kill me?”

“No way. He’d be stupid, you already told me. I’m, like, almost a witness to it.”

That was true. Now that Alex knew if anything happened… you’d have someone to back you up. You squeeze him in gratefulness.

“Then what should I do? Hire a bodyguard!?”

“I don’t think you have bodyguard money,” he teases. “But I can always walk with you anywhere, everywhere. And what if–no, never mind.”

“Alex, you need to tell me everything you’re thinking,” you urge.

He looks apprehensive, teeth tugging his lip between them to gnaw at the sensitive skin. He looks all around your room, his eyes landing on a framed photo of the two of you at an amusement park. Alex is grinning while holding a peace sign; your hair flies wildly and without abandon as the sun shines down on you two, “what if we found a way to catch him? You know, set a bait.”

Your face twists up immediately.

“Bait? I’d be the bait! This is a horrible idea–”

“Hear me out! I’d be waiting there and see if he shows up. You could make sure it’s obvious you’re alone. Ghostface comes, I tackle him, and boom! We call the police, and he’s finally gonna be held accountable.”

Alex eyes you, “what do you say?”

It was such a dumb idea. Every part of you screaming to lock the door and shut the blinds. But you don’t. Alex texts you periodically to check in, but the plan was just an unsafe waste of time for a while. But your phone rings at half past eleven.

“...Hello?”

“Hiya,” he croons your name, and your blood runs cold.

“I’m hanging up!”

“Don’t you fucking dare, or I’ll gut Alex myself.

You whimper, “I don’t want to die!”

“Then play a game with me. How about warmer or colder?”

It gives you a sickening pause. You held Alex and your own life in the palm of your hands, the threat of losing what means most to you evident. Your valued life and love would be lost through the gaps of your fingers like rivulets of clear water. You stand.

You had to be brave for both of you.

“Are you in my apartment?”

“Now, you’re playing,” and he chuckles over the phone.

A thick gulp sticks in your throat as you swallow. Something takes you to the kitchen where you peer around the corner to gaze into the yellow-lighted tiles and counters filled to the brim with your things, “colder.”

“Where the fuck are you?”

Ghostface has no reply. You move away from the kitchen, soft steps padding against the ground like a knowing prey animal. You glance at the living room, eyes scanning for a Ghostface-shaped hiding spot.

“Warmer,” his voice lulls, and he sounds so fucking amused that it makes your heart clench.

“Where’s Alex?”

Ghostface has no reply, and you frustratedly groan at him over the phone, “watch your tone.”

“Fuck you.”

“You’re bratty today, hm? All wound up over Alex?”

“Just stop talking about him!”

It makes warmth spread all past your cheeks and ears. You venture forward and stare at the looming hallway before you. Finally, you registered the tremble in your knees as they knocked against each other.

“Hot.”

Your hall closet stares menacingly at you, and your stomach drops. You got to turn, but his voice commands you to stop, “freezing!”

There’s a shake in your lip as your ears fill with salty tears that threaten to spill over onto your cheeks. You blink them away and take step by step closer. Breathing grows heavy and restricted before you’re standing before the hall closet.

“You’re on fire.”

The door is yanked open forcefully, revealing beige and white towels with silk sheets. There was no one there. He lied! Only then, does Ghostface leap from your bedroom door to wrap his arms around you from behind. You try to scream, but a gloved hand slots easily over your mouth as he begins to tug you.

You kick and scream and cry like a petulant child as you fight with all your power. He doesn’t seem all that interested in your pleas. He only grunts softly as you land whack upon whack on him. However, he’s undeterred as he hoists you up like a sack of potatoes on his shoulder.

“No! No, lemme go! Let. Me. Go!”

“Come on,” he drawls your name as he lays you flat and helpless on your back against the couch.

He easily fits over you and pins your wrists to the fluff of the furniture. The two of you stare at each other, and you’re panting wildly with fear and adrenaline. Ghostface adjusts to straddle you, sinking down till his hips are flush against yours.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it.”

“A-About what?”

“Fucking me. I know you have, you wanna know how I know?”

“Yes! Yes, please, just–”

The mask is ripped away to reveal a harsh, shocking truth. It’s Alex, sweaty with matted hair that sticks to his forehead. You nearly go limp from the shock and stress as he looks down at you with pleading eyes, “don’t shy away from me, now. You weren’t like this earlier.”

“I don’t, I don’t understand! W-What’s going on, ‘lex?”

You murmur his nickname desperately, watching as he gnaws on his plush bottom lip. His lip trembles as he peers at you, his hands loosening their grip on your wrists. You wiggle a hand free and wrap it around his shoulders, your hand splaying flat against his back and holding him protectively, “but why?”

“I needed you,” he croaks. “I needed you to realize you want me.”

He starts nosing at your neck, lips planting gentle kisses on the smooth expanse of your throat. A weak whine rises and dies from your lips.

“Alex, I–wait, this is!I–”

“What you’ve been craving, right? What you’ve been needing.”

He sucks on your pulse point, and you arch lewdly into his all-encompassing black robes. He’s sticky with spit as he collides the two of you together into a heady kiss.

It’s all you’ve been wanting, but it’s all the wrong circumstances. He presses with such need into you, such desperation; your mouth slips open wider to tangle with his syrupy tongue.

“That’s it,” he huffs and lightly rocks his bulge against your sweatpants.

He’s so hard, you can feel him shudder as he presses forward again to lightly hump against you.

“Wanted to just have you all to myself.”

He joins you once again to heavily make out, both of you growing more and more eager by the second. You bury yourself within him, his hand groping your breast with a groan of satisfaction.

“You’ve kept me waiting,” Alex tugs your earlobe with his teeth. “Every time we cuddled, hugged… I just wanted to fuck you to tears.”

It makes such a hot moan escape, your toes curling as you writhe beneath him.

“Fuck, really?”

“Yes, I needed you more than I could stand!”

Alex’s hands are eager as they skim your stomach to reveal more of your glowing skin. He bites his lip in anticipation, observing as the shirt reveals your perky tits; he can’t help but latch his mouth to your budding nipple and suck.

“Oh, fuuck. Alex, shit.”

“Feels good, right? Mmm, love how these feel.”

He grins before diving in and peppering love bites and suckles along your sensitive skin. Buff arms wrap around your middle and pull you closer, teeth grazing the underside of your tit; he laves a dark mark and pulls away with a wide smirk.

You realize Alex’s clothing is still on. You’re tugging his robes up the minute your eyes are able to focus–he was a god with his tongue, and you needed it more than just toying with your boobs.

“You need to take this, ngh, off.”

“Yeah, you want it off?”

“Don’t tease me, ‘lex. I wanna see you. Not Ghostface.

It gives Alex pause, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he pulls back to look at you.

“... You really mean it?”

“Yes,” you purr. “I really do.”

Alex quickly tugs off his draping outfit, sighing as his bare, caramel chest is given its glory. Suddenly, you see him for who he is. A man, a man you’re soaking your panties for. You need him like a fish needs water.

The two of you meld together like it’s all you’ve ever known. In a way, Alex is all you’ve ever known.

Your hands greedily feel him up, squishing his pecks and running your thumb over his hardening nipples. His hips pop once with a meek whimper escaping him, “I-I should be doing this to you.”

“But you’re not,” you taunt and latch your mouth to his chest and suck.

A keening whimper escapes Alex as his fingers tangle into your tresses, pushing his chest further into your tongue with a whine.

The two of you meet in a sloppy kiss, Alex pushing you onto your back as he leaves love bites down your neck. He leaves more on the other side of your breast, sucking soft, supple skin to leave bruises of remembrance.

Alex pauses, his eyes flickered to yours and a steamy gaze, “can I… Can I eat you out?”

It doesn’t feel weird, even if he’s your best friend. Your knees fall apart wider as you give a shy nod, “y-yeah. Be gentle—I’m sensitive.”

He hums and levels with your pussy. Alex’s right hand comes to entangle with yours as his breath fans over your soaked panties. You both stare in a terse, heated moment before he’s licking with the flat of his tongue.

“Ooh! Shit…!”

Alex makes it sloppy while teasing you over soaked cotton. His smirk is evident when you cry out and practically crush his hand as he laves over your swollen clit.

“You taste like candy,” he pulls your panties to the side with a groan. “And you’re so wet.”

“You’re embarrassing me—aah! Ohmygod, ‘lex!”

He dives in like a man starved, and in a way he is. Alex slurps messily at your folds, tongue swirling your creamy hole before sucking your clit into his hot, wet mouth.

Your fingers grip and tug ferociously as you grind your cunt against his face. Alex’s eyes slip closed as he loses himself in you, his adept tongue working you open.

It burns hot and white as your stomach clenches. You ride his face, and he lets you, “‘lex!! ‘M gonna cum!”

There’s a wet, inaudible groan, and Alex is pressing his tongue at your entrance and tongue-fucking you. The hot strand of pressure snaps, and you cum with a needy cry.

“Alex,” you sob out, knees squeezing his head as he helps you through your orgasm. “C-Can’t! Too much, please!—”

He pulls away with a glistening mouth and jaw. He’s so hard in just his boxers, and you can taste yourself as you bring him in for a messy kiss.

“I can’t believe I just,” you cut him off with another desperate peck, “mmf—just ate you out.”

“Don’t brag about it,” you murmur against his lips before he settles back on his haunches.

Alex starts to claim he’s not “bragging,” but you hone in on the reveal of his thick, bobbing cock after freeing it from his boxers. The fat tip smears pre-cum on his navel and your mouth waters. God, you needed him.

He fishes out a condom from his black robes, and you draw close to help roll it on. He’s hot to the touch and shivers at how your hand barely wraps around him, “thank you.”

Your hand is still on his dick as you smile up at him. Alex gives you a tender grin before motioning you to lie back. He uncoils like a snake, stretching across you to lay between your legs. His dick just barely brushes your throbbing clit, and you jump at the contact. Alex swallows and seems nervous as he grips his base.

“I-I love you,” he says. “I love you.”

The world seems to stop for a moment. You stare into the galaxy of brown amber held in his eyes.

You can hardly breathe, and you swear your heart’s crawling up your throat and about to beat past your lips. Alex’s eyes search yours for something, anything. You hadn’t realized how silent you’ve been, “I love you, too.”

Alex laughs and scoots a little closer, his cock head just barely pressing against your fluttering hole.

“God, you really made me nervous there.”

“You’re about to be inside me! I wasn’t ready for a confession…”

Alex kisses your pout away and sinks into you with a hefty groan, “holy shit.”

You’re scratching his back from the deliciously sinful way he stretches you out. With the legs looped around his hips, he starts to shallowly thrust. His dick plunge is deep and drags heavy amidst your spasming gummy walls.

“Fuck me, oh, yes!”

“Ngh,” he grunts, and his hips are hitting yours with punishing claps.

Alex makes you submit, laying there in a writhing heap as you take him in your guts. His hips angle upwards, and he’s battering your g-spot while uttering sweet nothings into your ear, “you’re such a good girl. Ah, ah, fuck; c-can’t believe I’m fucking your pretty pussy.”

Your lips are swollen red and parted as Alex fills you entirely over and over and over! You cling to him in a pathetic embrace, barely able to keep your eyes open while staccato moans fill Alex’s ear.

“Alex, I-I can’t for m-much—ooh!! Ohgod, gonna cum…!”

In between your sweaty, grinding bodies, Alex’s sneaky hand slinks down to messily rub your clit, “you’re fucking perfect.”

His voice shakes with a compliment, and his thumb presses his hard circles on your sensitive nub. It’s enough to break you down in a mix of cries and sobs as you cum all over him, “oh fuu-huh-ck!”

Alex inhales sharply, chasing his own high as your walls squeeze him during your orgasm.

“Fuck, fuck. Baby, I—!!”

He lets out a whimpering squeak before burying deep and emptying his balls inside the condom. He thrusts once, twice, before collapsing down onto you with panting breaths on his lips.

You both are exhausted. Your bare foot presses against the cool plastic of his mask, and you blurt your question before you can even think.

“Did you really kill all those people?”

He doesn’t look at you, merely planting kiss after kiss on your exposed skin, “I did it all for you.”

There’s no guilt or apprehension this time. Only the way your heart sings with love.

“It’s hard to say whether Ghostface had help this time,” the newscaster reports. “But, it’s an ongoing reminder to lock your doors and report any suspicious activity…”

The screen goes black as Alex laughs and cuts the TV off. Your eyes trace his features, the delicate curve of his nose, and the slope of his lips; he is stunning. Neither of you speak of the mutual dried flecks of blood on each other’s cheeks.

#quackity imagine #quackity scenario #quackity x reader #quackity x you #quackity x y/n #quackity fanfic #quackity smut #quackityhq x reader #quackity thirst #quackity x reader smut #quackity drabble

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soullessjack · 3 months ago

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your idea of domestic tfw2.0 is a gated community gay couple with an estranged/absent uncle. my idea of domestic tfw2.0 is sam banning violent video games in the bunker because jack keeps trying to do MK fatalities on monsters when they go hunting and dean won’t stop doing the narrator voice to encourage it. We are not the same

#cal.txt #does this make sense ……. like #it’s about the juxtaposition #normal family house rules for abnormal situations #spn #tfw2.0 #domestic au but it’s not really an au it’s just the show #sam winchester #dean winchester #jack kline #castiel #spn headcanon #w*dni #anti wincest #<- filtering out the tank scum #yes jack torturing Nick was a very serious and grave situation yes I’m making a joke out of it just for this

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theheadlessgroom · 10 months ago

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@beatingheart-bride

Honestly, Randall was surprised to know that someone else she knew was afraid of the Fae: In many ways, it seemed like such a uniquely Pace fear, as his father confessed to being similarly superstitious on account of having been raised on the same stories, seeing nothing fun or whimsical about being at the whim of such capricious beings. To know someone else out there had the same fear, it was a pleasant surprise to hear, honestly.

And honestly, he didn't hold it against her for laughing; it was a little funny, he could admit that...a grown man being paralyzed by the idea of the likes of Tinkerbell was an admittedly funny image, and so he could laugh along, before he listened to her own confession, and finding an affinity with her when she did.

"Ah, I, uh, I used to get spooked by thunderstorms too," he replied with a small smile, saying, "I used to think the thunder was, uh...the footsteps of giants walking around, probably looking for children to gobble up. When I was very little, I used to walk up and run hollering to my parents' room and want to sleep between them."

Fortunately, his parents were good sports about letting him sleep there for the night, his mother kissing his dark curls and swearing not to let a giant snack on her little boy, while his father bundled him in blankets, promising to fight any giants who dared stick their big noses in their houses. Randall, at that age, firmly believed his father could take down such beings, just like the giant heroes of old, and that made him feel very safe and secure as he drifted off back to sleep.

#((exactly! no one threatening their lives; no one giving them a hard time; no secrets being kept))#((just a window into the lives of a family; a multigenerational found family; spending time together))#((sort of little snapshots of domestic moments in their afterlives! meeting in-laws; preparing for a pregnancy))#((dealing with a sick child; having family over; it's very domestic and a nice breather between more serious rp's/au's!))#((and same; i love all of our rp's too-they're all unique and different in their own right))#((and so much fun for it! and i've been enjoying emily being the monster for a change too!))#((it's a really fun shake-up and really goes to show that randall loves emily in every monstrous form))#((just as she loves him the same way! it's very sweet and very fun!))#outofhatboxes #beatingheart-bride #V:Dark Shadows

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gojonanami · 8 months ago

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❝ 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐈'𝐌 𝐀 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄 (𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐈'𝐋𝐋 𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐌) ❞

❝ WHAT HAPPENS YOU TAKE CARE OF NANAMI ALL YOUR LIFE -- AND HE DOES THE SAME FOR YOU ? ❞

✧ pairing: nanami kento x sorcerer!reader

✧ summary: throughout your years of jujutsu tech, you take care of kento, whether its a wound from a curse or a simple cut his finger -- and when he returns he finds you still ready to take care of him -- even after shibuya.

✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, fluff, hurt / comfort w/ a happy ending, domesticity, jjk canon compliant au (because nanami is alive) reader is the same age as nanami, set during through the events of star plasma vessel to end of jjk, nanami getting hurt and reader taking care of him, reader gets a cold and nanami takes care of her, jealous! nanami, kitchen counter sex, soft dom! nanami, oral (f), fingering (f! receiving), sex (p in v), creampie, swearing

✧ wc: 7,657

✧ for my 2k celebration event: item 3 has been sold to two anons!

“Show me,” Nanami furrows his brow in reply, jaw set as he glares, but he knew no amount of staring would get you to let this go. You stood in the doorway of his dorm room — your room was clear across on the other side where the girls resided, so he wondered for a split second how you knew he returned when it had barely been an hour, but answered his own question without having to utter a word (Haibara).

“It’s not bad. It’ll heal by itself—“ and you’re shaking your head, and his lips purse, “it really isn’t worth speaking to Ieiri about — it’s not a wound, just a bruise—“

But still you stood, as immovable as ever — and he finally relented, unbuttoning his jacket, as he shrugged it off, unable to hide his wince as he revealed the large bruise that colored his skin in red, his skin peeling and angry, and surely would turn into a lovely mish-mash of purple and blue.

You brush past him into the dorm room, as you brought a first aid kit in, setting it on the bed, turning your head before tilting it as if to say, “well?”

He repents, as he always did with you — he knew a battle of wills with you was as unwinnable as a battle of jujutsu with Gojo — not to mention needlessly frustrating. He sat at the edge of his bed, eyes fixed to the floor, as you grabbed a washcloth from the kit, heading for his bathroom. He hears the sounds of water running, and the squeak of the faucet closing.

You return as you lift his arm slightly, rolling up the sleeve of his t-shirt to his shoulder.

Your touch is gentle — Nanami was always surprised at how gentle you always were. With the line of work you all did, it was easy to be rough, to find smooth edges corroded and jagged, but no, you remained as smooth and soft as you always were.

He flinches when you bring the wet washcloth to raw skin, and you’re careful even as you seemingly pick out pieces of gravel and dirt stuck in his flesh. And you frown at the sight of it, doing your best to clean every bit.

“So what happened?” you ask, and he gives a terse chuckle.

“Didn’t Haibara tell you?” And you shrug, “I know he told you we’re back,” and your lips curl ever so slightly as your eyes meet him, a small amount of mirth returning.

“Maybe I’m just a stalker,” and he can’t bite back the small smile on his lips, “Haibara told me you didn’t go to Ieiri, and that you got hurt protecting him on your mission,”

He sighed, rubbing the back of his head, “Ieiri was busy dealing with Haibara, he got it worse than I did—“

“Even if your injury is less serious, it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t look after yourself,” and he sighs, as his eyes slide to you, “you need to learn to care about yourself, Nanami,”

And he knew you were right on some level — he didn’t have a delusion of invincibility and he also didn’t have a strong enough desire to strive to be stronger, but — his fingers grasp at his sheets —that didn’t mean he wanted to see his friends die. “You don’t have to do this,” he says again, and you don’t meet his gaze when he looks over at you, your brow set in concentration, “it’s not important—“

“Nanami, you don’t ever seem to value yourself properly,” you finish cleaning his arm, before grabbing bandages and tape from the kit, “you are important — even if you don’t think you are,”

And he opens and shuts his mouth — before a smile pulls at his lips — you were far too kind, especially for a jujutsu sorcerer.

And then you add, “and if you don’t get your wounds tended to, I’m going to tell Gojo you want to take a sweets tour of Tokyo,”

…maybe he spoke too soon.

~~~~

“How did you manage to hurt yourself so badly during training?” You offer Nanami a makeshift ice pack, a small cloth wrapped up with ice from his freezer, and his lips pursed in disgust as his reply, “ah, Gojo,” the mattress shifted under his weight as he sat,

“That arrogant idiot,” Nanami grumbled, as he pressed the ice pack to the back of his head, “his excuse was that he didn’t know his own strength — he’s lucky that he had infinity or I would have—“

You chuckle, “You know he’s just messing with you, it’s just because you react,” and he scowls at his floor of his room, as if his carpet was the six eyes sorcerer itself, “he’s not so bad—“

He raises an eyebrow, his mouth parted in disbelief, “Are you defending him right now?” And you chuckle, as you lean back against the side of his bed, your head leaning back against the soft comforter that you had bought him and guaranteed would help him sleep better (it only guaranteed that you would be asleep underneath it half the time they spent in his dorm relaxing).

You wave him off, “Lower your blood pressure. I’m not defending him, I’m just saying, it can’t be easy being the strongest — all those eyes on you, the way people treat you, the—”

“The weight of your overinflated ego that you have to carry around—” and you roll your eyes, and the action bites at his last nerve, because he thought if anyone would have his back, it would be you — the next words spit like venom out of his mouth, “I thought you were better than those girls that moon over Gojo,”

And he regrets the words as they leave his lips, as you stare at him wordlessly — not with anger, but frustration — which hurts all the more, “If I was so in love with Gojo, then why am I with you instead of him?” He doesn’t have a reply as you rise to your feet and make your way out the door, the click of the door far too deafening, leaving him with a throbbing in his head — but not just from being hurt.

His fingers curled tighter around the ice pack. Because why—why did the thought of you liking Gojo make his chest ache—the idea of your care and time spent on someone else, not even Gojo, but anyone else, made his stomach churn at the idea.

He had told himself when he decided to become a sorcerer, he would do anything to avoid relationships — even friendships if he could do so. When you work a job like this, it can only end in disaster. but— his eyes slide to the closed door you had just left through.

Why did this feel so much worse?”

~~~

“You can’t stay here all night,” your voice cuts through the silence of the morgue — the only life left in the room. Because he too had died along with Haibara.

Or rather he should have.

He kept the towel over his eyes, unmoving from his chair, head resting back against the cold metal — as if it would protect him — from seeing Haibara sliced half over and over, last words dying on his lips said in pure chaos but somehow Nanami could still hear them ring in his ears— just as the sick crumple of his torso hitting the ground after being ripped from his body. The words leaving his lips as the last vestiges of life left his body, fingers twitching as his lips moved—

You got it from here.

The hopeful optimism from a person seconds before death did little to comfort him. Not when that person should have been the one who lived. He had the one thing that was so rare in his shit world of jujutsu — kindness—

The very thing that left half his body lying against a metal slab.

“I can’t leave until…” he trails off, he didn’t wish to leave until his body was inspected and then taken to be…disposed of. He knew it was for the best that his body is turned to ash, but it made it no easier to consider the person that he knew to be his best friend would be nothing but ash in a few hours time, “I won’t leave him alone,”

You nod, and the silence makes him wonder if you’re leaving, but instead he hears footsteps and the slight scraping of a metal chair against the floor. And he feels the slight brush of you beside him as you sit.

And you don’t say a thing. The only thing is that your fingers brush his tentatively and when he doesn’t pull away you intertwine them. And that’s enough—for now.

Until they take his body away.

A sorcerer glances at the two of you, “Do either of you have contact with next of kin? We need to notify—“

“I’ll handle it,” Nanami says, the towel pulled away from his gaze, hoping his dark bags and red tinged eyes aren’t noticeable to you, but he sees the purse of your lips and knows they are.

The sorcerer shifts, “Have you considered asking his family for—“

“That’s not an option,” Nanami cuts him off with a stare, and the sorcerer parts his mouth before shutting it again with a nod, “okay, please allow us to take his body,”

And they do, pulling the sheet down ever so slightly that Nanami sees a flash of his face — no hint of that smile he always unfailingly had on his lips — it too was gone, just like he was. And they carefully wheel his body away — assumedly to be burned. And the door swings shut behind them — leaving only him and you. Silence hangs over the room, the finality of the moment leaves nothing in its wake but regret.

And regret only felt hollow — just as his heart did.

You choose to break the silence, a shaky sigh leaving your throat, as you quickly scrub tears away from your face, clearing your throat, “Come on, let’s go—”

“You can go ahead, I’m going to stay here for a while,” and your eyes try to find his own, but he still stares at the spot where Haibara’s body had laid for hours. The essence of cursed energy was almost too easy to understand compared to the concept of death — a person can be living, breathing, and talking one day to be nothing but a husk the next. And now, he knew it would be a lifetime of feeling as if something is missing — as if something was wrong — and moments where it felt fine would be overcome by only guilt and anger.

What was the point of all of this? His fingers formed into fists, nails digging into his palms — were they nothing but pawns to be used in an unending game that forced sorcerers to not only to put their lives on the line, but their colleagues as well. A twisted game that only ended in a pile of corpses.

“Nanami, you can’t stay here all night—”

“I’m fine,” he rubs at his temples — and how long would it be until he’s staring at your body on that slab? Or maybe you’d be staring at his own—crying over his body just as he had done for Haibara, “you can go—”

“I’m not leaving you, and you shouldn’t stay here — you need sleep—”

“You don’t have to take care of me,” he snaps, his gaze meets yours, “I’m not injured, I didn’t even get hurt— ”

“Yes you did,” you say quietly, as you step closer to him, but his eyes refuse to meet your own.

“No—” and your hand finds his chest.

“This pain is worse than any physical pain you could put in — and I wouldn't leave you to deal with a bruise by yourself, so what makes you think I’d leave you now?” you say softly, and tears burn at his eyes, as your hands gently pull him into your arms, his head buried against your chest, “I’m not leaving you, Nanami,” you murmur quietly, as your fingers slowly run through his hair.

And you didn’t — he was the one who left you.

~~~~

You never get sick. That’s what you loved to brag about — especially yesterday when you got home from spending an entire two days in the rain soaking wet and ice cold without a hint of cold symptoms.

You supposed your bragging was a curse in and of itself because now you were buried under your comforter. You barely manage to text Shoko that you’re sick and you won’t be able to make it to class today. And now you had to wonder if it was worth the effort to get out of bed to take your medication or to simply sleep it off.

But your body made the choice for you as your eyes fluttered shut and you slipped into a fitful sleep, body burning from the inside out.

Consciousness faded in and out, as you felt something brush against your forehead, your eyes heavy as they open ever so slightly, a flash of blue and blond, before you fall back into sleep.

Your head aches, muscles heavy, and the smell of spices wafted through the apartment, “Are you finally awake?” a voice said, as your eyes flutter open, still burning at the corners as your head turns.

“Nanami?” You croak out, throat raw and dry, as if your flesh was raked across coals, “what are you—“

He turns his head from your kitchenette — a ladle in hand, before he sets it down, wiping his hand with a dishcloth. And he steps over to your bed, pulling the washcloth from your forehead, before placing a cold washcloth, “your fever went down a little,” he said, “but I brought cold medicine and I made some soup for you,”

“You didn’t—“

“Have to?” his lips quirked up, “I know I didn’t have to, I wanted to,”

“How did you know I was—“ and his eyes find yours, “Shoko,” and he nods, you relax back into your bed, “how long have you been here?”

He turns back around to finish cooking the soup for you, stirring, the metal of the ladle slightly clinking against the sides of the pot, his eyes flicker to your clock, “About an hour and half, hasn’t been too long,”

“Why are you taking care of me?” you mumble, glancing at his back, as he lifted the ladle to pour into a small bowl to taste the seasoning of the soup, “you don’t owe me anything—“

“I owe you a lot,” he cuts you off, the clatter of the bowl against the counter as he sets it down, the click of the stovetop as he shut it off, “but that’s not the reason I did it,” and your brow is furrowing under the washcloth, as he walks over to you, a smile tugging at his lips.

“Then why?”

And he raises an eyebrow, “Why do you think?” And his fingers brush your cheek, “you’re the only reason I’ve stayed here as long as I have, otherwise I would have left, a long time ago,” and you don’t know how it’s possible for your face to grow warmer but it does from his words and his touch that lingers against your cheek.

And he’s gone as quickly as he came, going over to the stove to take out a bowl of soup for you to drink, “can you stay after I finish eating? Until I fall asleep?” You ask, as he brings the bowl over, as you sit up slowly, head spinning as you do still.

“Of course,” and he does, staying by your side after you eat and take your medicine, hearing your quiet murmur, “thank you, Kento,”

And he realizes, as his lips curl into a smile, fingers brushing a stray strand of hair from your face, just how much he liked hearing his name on your lips.

~~~

“How did you manage to hurt yourself on our last mission together as students?” you sigh, the worry in your voice making his lips curl — as the two of you had just found yourselves in his dorm room, as you rifle through his bathroom to pull out the first aid kit you had given him (after you had learned he didn’t own one).

You return to him sitting on the edge of his bed, holding his hand up in such a way that he didn’t drip blood all over his sheets. Your fingers brush his own, and he’s still surprised at how soft your hands are. His hands had grown rough from the years of jujutsu, calloused from the grip of his fingers around his blade handle, but somehow, yours were always as soft as he remembered them.

Your fingers found his, warmth blooming as your brow wrinkled as you scruntized the cut on his hand, “Maybe we should ask Shoko to look at it—”

“There wasn’t any cursed energy that cut me — it was just—”

“Debris, I know,” and this seemingly did little to soothe your worries, had gotten when pushing you out of the way of the curse, “I had it handled — you shouldn’t have dove in—”

“It’s fine, it’s not that bad—” but your glare cuts off his sentence, as you begin to clean the wound.

You shake your head, “What am I going to do with you? Every time you go on a mission, I’m going to be worrying about what trouble you’re going to get yourself into,”

He’s silent, his eyes unable to meet yours — he can’t keep hiding this from you. He had made the decision months ago — and it was only a matter of time before someone else slipped up and told you (most likely Gojo).

“I’m leaving after graduation,” he says the words like ripping off the bandage, but it hurts him all the more when your fingers are still for a moment, your eyes finding his own, as you stare at him.

“You’re—” you cut off, and you don’t protest, you don’t argue — you only ask one question — “Why?”

And that one question was more difficult to answer than any other you could have asked, a sigh stuck in his throat, as he shook his head.

“I can’t do this anymore — I haven’t wanted to since—” he cuts off, mouth impossibly dry — it was easy to tell Yaga he wasn’t going to continue, even easier to take care of half a dozen grade 2 curses at once — but this was— “I can’t stand by and watch my colleagues die one by one beside me — I don’t want to live like this. I’m sorry—”

“You don’t have to be sorry, Kento,” his heart squeezes at the sound of your voice wrapped around his name — what you had taken to calling him recently — “as long it’s what you want. I know it’s been difficult—I was surprised you hadn’t left when—” and your voice falters, neither of you could bear to bring up his name, refusing to even utter it around the other — as if it would summon every horrible memory from that time—and your voice is soft, “I just want you to be happy,”

And there’s nothing more than he wanted to be the one to make you happy — nothing more than he wanted to ask you to be by his side, let him be the one to take care of you, and nothing more he wanted than to ask you to leave with him—

But that was the one thing he could never ask you to do.

Just as you would never ask him to stay for you.

“I want you to be happy too,” he murmurs, as you continue to clean his cut, before your fingers are moving to grab the bandages, slowly beginning to wrap them around his palm, “more than even myself,”

“What’s new?” he wrinkled his brow, and you chuckle, “I mean, you never put yourself first, and I’m glad you are now. You deserve to be happy, even if it’s not….here,” and you finish bandaging his hand, but his fingers curl around yours, “Ken—“

He squeezes your hand softly and his words are just as soft, “You would be the only one who could ever make me happy,” and he hears your breath catch, and it only makes him want to steal it from your lips with his own, “because I know that being by your side would be only thing that could satisfy me,”

Your fingers brush against his cheek, “Too bad I’m apparently in love with Gojo—“ you tease, all too pretty smile as you do, and his lips draw even closer, “Kento—“

“And if you’re so in love with Gojo, why are you here with me?” And he waits, waits for you to pull away, to stop him, to show any indication you didn’t want this—

But you close the gap instead, lips barely brushing his, so chaste, and yet it’s a spark to kindling — a fire neither of you should have lit. And yet, his lips find yours, insistent, his fingers cup your cheek, featherlight touch drawing a shiver down your body that he relishes in.

“Kento—“

“Why is it my name on your lips?” And he kisses you again and again, your noses brushing each other’s, he’s murmuring your name like a prayer, and if it was, he would worship at your altar each day, “Why it is that you’re kissing me?”

And your lips curl against his, as they find his again, “You kissed me first,” and he can taste the sweetness of the melon bread you had shared with him that morning, but something even sweeter that only be you, “so why did you do that?”

But you knew why — especially from the smile gracing your features, one that he wished he could have etched in the inside of his mind, “Isn’t it obvious?” and your lips part to answer, but he cuts you off with another brush of your lips, “I love you,”

And your eyes widen only slightly, but you’re kissing him again, arms curling around his neck, fingers sliding behind his neck — “Figured that out when you got jealous of Gojo, but I’m glad you admitted it,” and your forehead finds his, “and that I love you too,”

You loved him — you loved him — he had to tell himself again and again, but he still couldn’t fathom it. Was it a dream? You were always a dream to him — something he could nearly grasp with his fingers, but always remained just out of reach.

And now he held you in his hands and he never wanted to let go. But he had to — he knew he had to.

So he would — even if it would hurt — hurt that no bandage would fix.

He kissed you again, unless you were the one to place it.

“Why is it that I always find you like this?” Nanami’s eyes slowly met yours — he sat in Ieiri’s office, waiting to be seen, only find you there in the doorway instead, “it’s as if you’re asking to be patched up by me, Kento,”

How long had it been? And somehow he knows the answer before even thinking about it — it had been nearly a decade. A decade since the two of you had graduated — you moving to Kyoto to help run the campus there, while he had moved onto a regular college and then a corporate job — one that had nearly sucked his soul dry of any life he had to begin with. And it was only when he had received gratitude for the first time in a long time — that he remembered the reason he had stayed a jujutsu sorcerer after Haibara…

And now, here was the other.

He murmurs your name, nearly sounding foreign on his lips, “How did you—”

“I ran into your student, Nanamin,” and he furrows his brow at the nickname — Itadori’s little name for him after he had refused to be his sensei. Because he wasn’t one — Gojo may have taken up the mantle of teacher for his own personal ego trip — but he wasn’t ready to form relationships like that. And yet…his lips curl, there you were, “didn’t think you wanted to be a teacher,”

“I don’t, but how can I refuse that white haired idiot?” he half grumbled with a sigh, eyes still slowly grazing over you, “but I don’t want to talk about him right now,”

You draw a step closer, shutting the door behind you, a lilt in your voice as lovely as your grin, “Then what do you want to talk about?” and you stop right in front of him, as your fingers reach out, and he’s nearly leaning into your touch, but he’s wincing, as your fingers press against his bruised body, “because I want to talk about how you ended up in such rough shape,”

A sigh stuck in his throat, his next words nearly along with it, “It could have been much, much worse,” he murmurs, “if Itadori wasn’t there, I—” he breaks off, “that special grade — he could touch my soul and it had caught me in its domain—”

And your arms are pulling you into a tight hug, your fingers running through his hair, “But you’re here, you’re okay,” you murmur softly, your palm pressed against his chest, you can feel his heart pump under your fingers, “you made it,”

“But—”

“But nothing, Kento, you’ll make it back every time,” your fingers cup his cheek, pressing your forehead against his, “right?”

Your touch was the only thing that could truly make him feel whole again — as if every crack in his soul had been mended with gold, “how do you know?”

And your lips curl into a soft smile, your head tilting ever so slightly, “Because you love me, right?”

The chuckle on his lips is nearly enough to bite back his nerves as the words leave his lips, “I’ve loved you for years, sweetheart, that’s nothing new,”

You’re shaking your head, “And all these years, we always found our way back to the other, right?” your hand finds purchase on his shoulder now, the other against his cheek, “so we just have to keep doing that,”

“You make it sound so simple,” he murmurs, and your lips find his — and it makes him wonder how he had spent so much time without your touch, because right now it was the only thing keeping him whole — stealing the doubts from his head and the aches from his body — leaving only heat filling the empty gaps left behind.

“It is simple,” your hand interlaces with his, “if we let be.”

~~~

“I’m starting to think you hurt yourself on purpose around me more now that we’ve moved in together,” you examine the small cut on his finger, a nick from the knife that the ratio sorcerer had been using to slice his freshly baked loaf of bread. Scarlet slipped from the small cut, and his soft murmur of ‘ouch’ unfortunately had not gone unheard by you. He swore you must have selective hearing — you wouldn’t listen when he told you to go to bed, but you’d hear him hiss in pain under his breath even when half asleep on

“It’s not too deep, I think just a bandage should be fine,“ Your brow knit together as you purse your lips, and he bit back his smile, knowing it would only serve for him to get scolded for not being more careful.

“It’s nothing, love, I can take care of it—“ and his breath catches when your lips find their way around his finger, sucking slightly to ease the bleeding, your tongue flicking over the cut, “sweetheart—“ he swears under his breath, a distinct flush burning at the crown of his cheeks, “what—“

“They say saliva can help a cut heal faster,” you smile, before pulling a bandage out of the first aid kit you had pulled out, and your lips press a sweet kiss to his cut again, a smirk as you meet his gaze, “Ken—”

And he’s kissing you, your body tenses a moment only to melt into his touch, your arms wrapping around his neck — he can taste his blood on your lips, raking your fingers through his hair. He can only think about getting closer, closer, closer — he needs you. His hands slide down your back, until they find your hips, squeezing, as he presses himself to you.

“Baby,” you murmur breathlessly, as your lips part his, a gasp that turns to a soft moan when his lips press heated kisses down your jaw. His nose brushes against the soft skin of your neck, as he presses you against the counter of his apartment, his hands slide down, large palms grasping your ass, “I need—”

“What do you need?” his fingers sneaking up and down the sides of your body. His teeth graze your pulse, your head falls back, exposing more of your neck to him, as his tongue soothes the mark he left behind, “because you know I’ll give you anything you ask for, sweetheart,”

And his fingers dig into the flesh of your thighs as he lifts you onto the counter, calloused palms pressing your legs apart — but he barely has to, your thighs already spreading for him. And he finds your shorts nearly soaked through — your drenched cunt visible even through the two layers of fabric stuck together from your arousal.

But you don’t need to ask for him to know what you want — it’s second nature, it’s instinct for his fingers to dip inside the waistband of your shorts and underwear alike, tugging them both down, until you were kicking them off.

“Is all this for me?” he murmurs, pressing a sweet kiss to your inner thigh, as two fingers graze down your slit, gathering your pre on his fingertips, before he meets your gaze only to lick his fingers clean, “I was never one for sweets — except when it came to you. Sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted,”

Your head lolls back, as his thick fingers circle your clit with practiced ease, pulling back only to drag his tongue up the length of your needy cunt. And your eyes find his again, heady gaze heavy with need and his pretty lips and chin already glossy with your juices.

“Kento—fuck,” your fingers thread through his blonde locks. First, one finger sinks in and then another —

his nose bumping against your clit as his tongue stretches your walls in tandem with your fingers, grinding against his face, “s’good, I can’t—“

But he’s relentless, the wet squelch of your messy walls and your choked out moans ring in his ears and are nearly enough to make him cum right in his pants — already far too tight, blood rushing downwards far too quick.

Another

“Such a good girl,” Kento murmurs, and you are, so perfect — “just let me take care of you,”

“Kento, please, more, need—“ and his lips find your clit, tongue flicking against the hardened bud, before sucking long and hard, while a third finger joins the other two. Your back arches, the coil in your stomach grows tighter and hotter — your slick dripping from your messy hole onto the counter.

His fingers squeeze at your flesh, and he could live between your legs forever — it could be his meal morning, noon, and night — he could spend hours lapping at you until you fell apart over and over. His fingers stretch you out far too deliciously, and your walls are giving that telltale flutter.

“Kento—g’nna cum—I—“ and his fingers are fucking you harder and his lips close around your clit, sucking hard, until you’re moaning his name, muscles growing tight as you fall apart. You’re a mess, your fingers trying to press his head impossibly closer as you grind against him, riding out your orgasm, as your juices gush over his face — and he’s lapping up every drop, as you fall limp against the counter, his arm slipping around your back to support you.

Your eyes flutter open to watch him pulling away with a pop, strings spit and cum connecting you to your cunt. His gaze drags over you, watching your juices drip against the counter, as he murmurs quiet praises, licking his lips clean of your release.

And your fingers find his cheeks, pulling him into a deep kiss, moaning as you taste yourself on his lips, the filthiness of it all enough for his cock to grow even harder against your thigh. And it’s a matter of moments, before your fingers are tugging at his sweatpants and boxers, freeing his erection, his pretty cock all but ready for you — lovely ruddy head dripping with pearly white beads of precum.

“Look at what you do to me, love,” he murmurs, as your eyes meet his, gaze blown out in lust.

“Kento, please,” and his lips curl, his fingers raking through your hair, as he pulls you even closer, his erection bumping against your sopping pussy, “I want—“

He drags his cock over your slit, watching his pre mix with your release, the two of you groaning when his tip catches on your clit, “what do you want sweetheart? Tell me, tell me what you need,” his arms are hooked around your knees, pressing them to your chest.

You keen when his tip teases your sopping hole, “I need you to fuck me—“ and you’re whining as his cock pressed into you, splitting you open on his length — and god you could never get used to how big he was — you could feel very pretty vein and delicious curve—

Fuck, he could bust just looking down at you, at the way your lips parted for him as he had sunk into you, the way he could see how your pussy stretched around his dick — like you were made for him. Pleasure ripped up his spine at the sight — his fingernails digging crescents into your hips.

And he knew that he was certainly made for you.

“S’good, s’full — please,” you’re nearly mewling, begging for him to move, “Kento—“ and he obliges, unable to hold back any longer, as he begins to slowly rock his hips against you, each stroke getting longer and deeper. His balls slap against your hips, as he picks up the pace — your walls squeezing around him.

“Fuck, sweetheart, didn’t think you could get any tighter,” he grunts, his cock stuffed inside your walls, and he’s gritting his teeth, your soft moans and the noises of your pretty pussy becoming too much for him. White ring of release formed around his base — his balls growing tight as he inches closer and closer to blow his load, “you always can f’me, can’t you?”

And he gives a particularly hard thrust, right as his lips find yours in a messy, sloppy kiss — all tongue and teeth, your head falls back when his tip finds your g-spot again and again. You squirt all over his length, soaking him and the counter with your release, as he fucks you through your orgasm, again and again. Your toes curl when he finally comes, his release painting your walls with his thick, hot release — fucking it deeper and deeper, and he’s notching himself inside.

You’re slumping against him, your eyes shut, as he pulls you closer into his arms, pressing sweet kisses all over your face until he finds your lips again.

“I love you,” you mumble, eyes fluttering open as he cups your chin, a soft smile on his lips.

“I love you more,” and he’s slowly lifting you, carrying you over to your shared bed, and you’re burying your face in the crook of his neck.

“But what about your cut?” You mumble, and a chuckle on his lips, as he presses a kiss to your forehead, as he sets you down on the bed, grabbing a damp washcloth to clean you up.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, you’ve done plenty,” he murmurs, as he finishes cleaning you up, only to slip into bed beside you — “let me take care of you.”

~~~

It was over.

That’s what Nanami had thought when Mahito had stopped him in his tracks, his hand pressed against his chest, but more importantly, against his soul.

“I didn’t know you were here,” Nanami said, his eyes unable to tear away from the curse’s.

He could barely feel anything anymore — the stinging had dulled somewhere between his trek down the winding tunnels of Shibuya station. Instead, he could only hear the echo of his footsteps, as he had forced himself to take one step forward over and over and over — and that’s when he had seen them.

The congregation of curses or mutated humans — he didn’t know which they were, but did it really matter at this point? It didn’t. He dispatched them all the same — all while his thoughts were only filled of you — you, you, you and you.

And a beach in Malaysia.

“Yeah, Kuantan would have been nice,” and it would have been — it was only a few months away. The vacation the two of you had meticulously planned out. The days spent out walking the beach, lounging by the water with the books neither of you had never read, and nights falling asleep by each other’s side to the metronome of the waves crashing.

And now, he had found himself, staring death in the face — an echo of his near death from only a few months ago. How had it come to this already? He had always felt he was running out of time — constantly watching the clock, trying to run it out for his retirement, only for it to run out before he could make it to those sandy shores he had dreamed of.

“Yup. The whole time,” Mahito replies, lips in an easy smile, “Wanna chat? We go way back, after all,”

Nanami’s eyes fall to the floor, the dirtied and bloodied tiles underneath his feet — he didn’t feel like spilling his guts to a curse.

Haibara, what the hell was I trying to do? He asks in his mind, not even daring to say the words aloud, I ran. Even though I ran away, I came back with the vague reason of finding the work worthwhile.

And then he sees Haibara, appearing in front of him, patented smile on his lips, as he points south — points right at—

“Itadori,” Mahito says.

“Nanamin!” his eyes wide as he takes in his state — horror painted on his face, already so helpless — what else had he seen and now he had to see this too? He shouldn’t have had to see this. He should have been a normal kid — worrying about normal things — not fighting monsters in some damned subway tunnel.

But what could he do about what now? What could he do but stop?

Could he finally stop?

No, Haibara. That’s not right. I can’t say that to him. It’ll just end up becoming a curse for him.

But it’s a curse every jujutsu sorcerer had to bear — made to bear until there were either no curses or no sorcerers left.

But he couldn’t regret it now.

“Itadori,” his lips curl, smiling for the last time, “you’ve got it from—“

And then there’s a crash — screaming, the sound of blood splattering. It takes him a minute to realize it wasn’t him.

It was you.

You had crashed between the two of them, sending the curse flying with your cursed energy, the impact drawing blood from you and Mahito alike. Your arm was around his body — and Nanami is whispering your name.

“I told you, Kento, we’re always going to come home — even if I have to drag you there,” you say, your eyes still flickering between Itadori and Mahito, “Itadori, tske Nanami—“

“No, this is my fight,” he shakes his head, his fingers clenched into fists, “I almost let Nanamin die — I have to do this—“

“Yuji—“ you say, but he’s already barreling towards Mahito, and you’re whispering fuck, as you take Nanami in the opposite direction.

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry,” and his eyes are barely able to stay open, as you help carry his weight alone the deserted subway, “I’m sorry—“

“Why are you sorry—“ but he’s barely awake along enough to hear your question, until it’s all black.

It takes him several months to recover. Cursed energy healing could only do so much, especially since Ieiri was spread thin enough with everything between Shibuya, the Culling Games, and everything else that came after.

Most of the brunt of his care had fallen on you — you changed his bandages, tended to his wounds, dealt with any signs of infection with help from Ieiri, and handled everything else around the house.

“Why do you do all of this for me?” He asks quietly, one day while he sits, your back turned while you washed the dishes from lunch — the clinking of plates and the sound of water running that squeaks shut when he asks.

You turn, lips in a frown, “what do you mean, Kento?”

His fingernails dig into his knee, biting back a sigh, as you walk over after wiping your hands off, “it’s been months of you just…taking care of me. I don’t get it — I didn’t understand when we were students when you insisted on caring for me, and now…” he swallows, his throat still impossibly dry—even after all treatment, nothing still tasted the same, “I’ve just become a burden—“

You cup his cheeks, “Kento, you are never a burden to me—“

“But—“

“But nothing — wouldn’t you do the same for me if I was in your position?” But he’s shaking his head.

“It’s not—“

“Kento, do you remember our first mission together?” he blinks, his brow furrowing, but you only smooth it with your fingers, “it was my first mission — I had barely gotten the hang of using cursed energy — I hadn’t even exorcised a curse before, but as always, jujutsu society had left children to bear the burden of survival amongst themselves,” and your fingers find his, “but you never left me alone. I froze in front of the curse. I didn’t know what to do with myself — even while you dealt with two others on your own — you still managed to save me, even though you managed to hurt yourself in the process,” your voice was soft, your hand finding his, lacing your fingers with his, squeezing his hand — but he’s not sure whether it’s to remind him you’re here or to remind yourself that he’s still here, “and you don’t remember it do you?” his lips purse, as his eyes can’t find yours, gaze cast downwards, but he hears you give a soft chuckle.

“I look at you and I see all the ways a soul can bruise — because you’ve taken hits that weren’t yours to take — you’ve taken challenges that shouldn’t have been yours to bear,” your fingers skim over his cheeks, “even in what you thought were your last moments,” your voice breaks, swallowing back tears, “your thoughts were of others — of helping your students, of Itadori, of me—” you shake your head, “and you think I’m doing too much for you? I think you deserve so much more than me—“

“All I need is you,” his voice is breaking, swallowing thickly, “that’s all I ever wanted,”

“Then just stay here with me — that would be enough for me,” you lean close and press your lips to his — and even still, the taste of your kiss was never any less sweet, “all I want is to come home to you, you think you can handle that?”

His lips find yours again, as they always would, “I’ll show you.”

~~~

“It doesn’t hurt that bad,” and Nanami chuckles, his hands hooked around your knees and thighs, as your arms wrapped around his neck, your head resting on one of his shoulders, “Kentoooo, you don’t have to—“

“I want to, and I’m not going to risk it getting any worse by letting you walk on the sand — the sunset was painting the water in hues of gold, pinks, and purples — and the beauty of this beach was only made better by your presence, “just let me do this for you, love,” and you sigh, relenting, as you bury your face in the side of his neck.

“My husband is so doting, just a small cut on sea glass makes you this crazy?” and he shivers slightly, but it’s not from the slight sea breeze tickling his nose, but from your nose brushing against your neck, “are we headed back already?”

“How else will we treat your foot?” your hands slide over his bare skin — the skin still scarred as it always would be, an eye tucked away under an eyepatch — unable to be saved — but your husband was saved all the same, “unless Ieiri taught you how to used reversed cursed technique before our vacation,”

“It’s really not that bad—”

“Is this your first time being a patient?” and you pout, as he chuckles, vibration of his sweet laugh against your chest as you press yourself impossibly closer, especially when you see the looks of others as the two of you walk by.

“It’s embarrassing to be carried like this,” you murmur, “come on baby, I can walk the rest of the way,” but he only hums, casting a small glance over his shoulder.

“I like carrying you like this,” his lips curled in a smirk, “everyone knows you’re mine this way,” and your cheeks burn, and you kiss his cheek, pouting as you do, “we’ll be back on the beach soon enough — we have all the time in the world sweetheart,”

And you did — you bury your face in the side of his neck again — with him—

Always.

✧ a/n: this has been a long time coming!! i feel like with every one of these fics i'm never happy with them, but then they end up being better than i remember. apparently i just don't like my writing very much haha. i hope you guys enjoy <3 it's been so long since i wrote nanamin, so i hope it came out good <3

✧ taglist: @1angel-digits1, @i-spilt-ink-on-my-phone, @freaky-show, @strangehuman101, @nanamis-baker, @hanxyy, @chosobeee, @luneriaa, @being-me-is-not-a-sin, @forest-fruits-jam, @unorthodoxfaithxx, @caelestine-the-caelicatto, @kenmei, @somrou, @spider-fan72, @missukiyo

#sab [mlist]#nanami kento x reader #nanami kento smut #nanami kento fluff #nanami kento x you #nanami x reader #nanami smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #nanami kento fanfiction #nanami x you #kento nanami smut #kento nanami x reader

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yandere-daydreams · 9 months ago

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Title: Pet Pastimes.

Pairing: Yandere!Gojo x Reader (JJK).

Word Count: 1.6k.

TW: Dub/Con, Hybrid AU, Snow Leopard!Gojo, Puppy!Reader, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Degradation, Unbalanced Power Dynamics, Reader Is Very Oblivious, and Manipulation.

“And you’re sure this is going to help?”

Satoru had been agitated when Suguru first brought you home – all dolled up in your collar, ecstatic to be led along the very same leash he always strained against. You were more obedient than most of the unruly mutts he knew, always happy enough to sit patiently and wait for your next command, but it would take more than a few weeks of passable behavior to convince Satoru dogs were anything but hyper and messy and so loud, he could hear their mindless barking from a mile away. The fact that you were supposedly here to ‘help’ him (Suguru called you a “service animal”, said most captive-born exotic hybrids had more domestic companions, but Satoru didn’t think you deserved such a pretentious title) didn’t make anything better. Satoru didn’t need help. What he needed was Suguru’s attention, but if he couldn’t have that, he’d settle for yours.

“Oh, I’m sure, puppy.” His fist tightened around the base of his cock. Suguru wasn’t home – just a quick errand, he’d claimed, it should only take a few minutes, as if that was an excuse for leaving his favorite pet and dutiful companion at home – and Satoru barely waited for the apartment door to lock before luring you into the kitchen and telling you to get on your knees while he leaned against the counter, Suguru’s forgotten phone well within reach. Currently, you were kneeling in front of him, your hands balled on your thighs and your gaze almost cross-eyed as you struggled to see what he was holding to your lips. He thought you would’ve had a little more experience, but your first owner must’ve been the sheltering type. Part of him was annoyed that he’d have to pick up the slack and teach you something so basic, but overall, he was pleased to know that it would be a long, long time before you got enough practice in to replace Satoru as Suguru’s favorite playmate. “I’ve just been feeling a little stressed out lately,” he said, drawing it out each word, giving your stupid canine brain time to process what he was saying. “This’ll really help me relax. You wanna help me out, right?”

Automatically, you nodded – your pressed frown instantly replaced with an eager smile. Your ears perked up, your concerns completely forgotten when presented with the chance to do what you’d been trained for. “Please, ‘toru,” you whined, and he fought the urge to cringe at the way Suguru’s nickname sounded coming out of your mouth. “Please let me help!”

It was almost cute, just how desperate you were to make him happy.

Almost.

He forced himself to smile back at you, using one hand to scratch at the base of your ears while the other jerked lazily over his cock. He was already hard, thankfully, and at the added stimulation, the sight of you practically drooling on yourself to get a taste of his cock, he felt himself twitch – thick pearls of arousal beginning to bead at the tip and drip onto your chin. You didn’t seem to care, to notice. He wouldn’t have been surprised to find out that his was the first cock you’d ever seen. “Can you open your mouth for me? Big n’ wide, just like I showed you.”

Like the trained dog you were, you obeyed immediately – letting your mouth fall open and looking up at him with the same bright, expectant eyes that must’ve won Suguru over, when he first picked you up. His hips wanted to buck forward, to bury him to the hilt in your newly available hole, but he held himself back, told himself he had to ease you into it no matter how little you’d done to earn his oh so generously given kindness. In the end, he settled for swiping his thumb over the flushed tip before resting it gingerly on your splayed-out tongue. It only took a second for you to stiffen, to jerk back. You didn’t cough or sputter, but your mouth snapped shut, your expression taking on a certain unease. Satoru fought the urge to bare his teeth. “Is something wrong, puppy?”

“I’m sorry, it’s just—” You closed your mouth, looking away. “It tasted weird. It was bitter, n’ stuff.

He sighed, rolling his eyes. “Look, if you still don’t think you can handle this, I can just tell Suguru you decided you’d rather go back to the pound—”

“Please don’t!” Your hands shot to his thighs. “I’ll be good, I promise, and I can’t— I don’t want to go back to the—”

“Then open your mouth.” After a second, you straightened, your lips parting and your jaw going slack. Still, he feigned reluctance, narrowing his eyes into a half-hearted glare as he raked his fingers through your hair and tugged half-heartedly, just hard enough to draw out a strained whimper. “And this time, don’t fuck everything up just because it ‘tastes weird’. If you do that again, I’ll have to tell Suguru you were being a bad dog.”

Your ears drooped, your tail falling slack against the tiled floor. Still, you managed not to jerk back as he slid his cock into your open mouth, slotting his tip against the velvety inside of your cheek. He could see you wince, your shoulders rising as you fought the urge to pull away, but even if you’d tried, the fingers knotted in your hair would’ve kept you rooted to the floor as he rolled his hips and thrust shallowly into the hollow of your cheek. Your tongue was smooth compared to his and wide compared to Suguru’s, and he could tell you were fighting not to move, not to explore the unknown factor trespassing inside of you. With a slight hum, he took pity on you – hazy lust having softened his previous annoyance. “It’s okay, puppy – you can lick, if you want to.” There was a moment of hesitation, then the broad flat against your tongue against the underside of his cock, tracing the shape of a prominent vein Suguru tended to favor, too. He shuddered, but told himself it was only out of reflex. You got lucky, that was all. “Mind your teeth. I’m takin’ you back to the shelter myself if you bite down.”

You tried to nod, but gave up quickly. Instead, your acknowledgment came in the form of your tongue curling around his tip, licking at the arousal dripping down his shaft, doing your best to lap at the shaft of his cock despite the awkward angle. Saliva and pre-cum pooled in the corners of your mouth, but you didn’t dare tilt your head back, didn’t dare swallow - keeping your mouth wide open as he drew back just far enough to pull out of your cheek and aim, instead, towards the back of your throat. You flinched, your dull nails scraping against his thighs, but it was easy to drown out the dull spark of pain as your tight throat fluttered and tightened around his cock, as the hand still wrapped around his base fell away in favor of joining its twin on the back of your skull and pulling you flush against his crotch. This time, you couldn’t stop yourself from reacting – your body lurching against his legs as you gagged, as you tried to wretch yourself out of his hold, but he was too far gone to so much as consider letting you go. “Stupid mutt,” he mumbled, cupping the back of your skull while you fought not to suffocate on his length. “Don’t even know how to breathe right. Can’t do anything on your own, huh, can you?”

Your only response was a choked inhale, a string of incoherent gibberish half-muffled by his cock. Drool wasn’t the only thing dripping down your face, now – tears were rolling down your cheeks, fat and hot, drawing thick trails through the mess of cum and spit. Your tongue wasn’t moving, anymore, but he didn’t care – your mouth was warm and soft and fuckable enough to make up for your lack of skill. You were beating at his legs, too, your little hands made even smaller when compared to him, and for a second, he could be convinced that you were a little cute. Not cute enough to deserve as much of Suguru’s attention as you got, obviously, but cute.

His cock pulsed against the convulsing walls of your throat, and he cursed under his breath. You let out a pained whine as he drew back, pulling out of you entirely. Without his support, you threatened to buckle over, to collapse into yourself, but he held you up with one hand while the other pumped over his cock too quickly, too roughly not to tip him over the edge. It was all you could do to stare up at him with those big, watery eyes as he let out an airy moan, as he painted thick ropes of white across your messy face, as he left you stained and teary-eyed and covered with his cum.

You blinked once, then twice, but didn’t react, too out of it to complain or cry out or question why his lips quirked up into a small grin, his eyes taking on a dreamy, half-lidded sort of lull. “Good puppy,” he cooed, his heart skipping a beat as he heard your formerly stagnant tail begin to sweep lazily over the tile floor. He reached for Suguru’s phone as he went on, keeping his tone light, delicate. “Can you smile for me, too? A big, wide smile – to show how happy you are that you get to stay with me n’ Suguru.”

It took a second, but eventually, you managed a stilted nod. It was shaky, at first, more of a mangled frown than anything, but with a little love and patience, you found your footing, your lips splitting apart into a wide, beaming smile – as if you were the happiest, most pathetic puppy in the world.

God.

You were fucking adorable.

Your smile barely faltered as the camera shuttered, as Satoru’s hand fell back to your head and pet over your disheveled hair – a treat for his well-behaved mutt. He could feel you melting into his palm, but his eyes were fixed on his picture of your smiling face and, with a few taps of his thumb, Suguru’s shiny new lockscreen.

Maybe, once Suguru got a good look at your pretty face, he’d think twice before deciding to be such a neglectful owner again.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #yandere jjk #yandere gojo satoru #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #hybrid au

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cubedmango · 2 years ago

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I don’t wanna get my hopes up but tv tokyo dishing out season twos seems like an indication that… THAT… Y’KNOW

i know realistically its not happening but Two of their shows getting a s2 now makes me think It Could Be Possible?????? like idk if those shows have more content from the manga to work w but i mean..... cm has vol 11 and 12 too that havent been used......... they could work w that right............. Right........................

#i dont want to hope bc ill just feel :( later but man. they really arent making it easy for me #i have so many ideas for a s2 ... it could be missing scenes from the movie.... krdc domestic life/honeymoon... wizardsawa au..... u name i #esp the domestic life stuff like post-marriage happenings... theres a Lot of potential there i think #also no one else wants this but id love if s2 focused on the other charas too like imagine a rokkaku or fujisaki centric ep id explode #actually fuck it. where is my fujisaki show i wanna see more abt her life !!!!! gimme my doter!!!!!#back to the topic tho i do think an anime is still more likely rn but who knows..... anything can happen (<- lying to herself)#tv tokyo pls corporate greed for one Please . we'll take 12 episodes of krdc just working at the office listen #my answer

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madwomansapologist · 3 months ago

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you make loving fun | nanami kento x mom!reader

after years of pain and grief, nanami found himself going home for a placed filled with love and care. he wasn't there at the start, but he will be there until the very end. it's a promise.

cw: papamin au. step!dad!nanami. kid!yuji. fluff fluff fluff. domesticity. found family. the happy ending they both deserve.

an: inspired by this post from @froody and my own experience as someone who had a dad who not only stteped up, but levelled up.

Five minutes before the end of his shift, Nanami put on his coat and muted his notifications.

Staring at the analog clock, Nanami noticed he never did that before. He was never one to rush away from the office. One to get ready, to make sure no one could bother him, and wait for his free time to finally begin.

For how long was he the last to go home? Don't forget to turn off the lights, Nanami would hear that every night from whoever left before him. And make sure to lock the doors. Did he ever said that to someone? No. Probably no.

Once if felt useful. To work overtime was to get stronger to defeat curses. And in a world you won't gain anything for free, extra hours can feel less like a option and more like a duty. Sometimes you can be guilty for not working. It can feel wrong to just live.

But back then Nanami would come back to a empty house, sleep in a cold bed and not say a single word until the next morning. Back then there was no one waiting for him by the door, smiling simply because he came back. Back then he wasn't waiting for anything expect silence.

"Good night, 'amin", and after only twenty minutes he was parking in front of your house, watching how Yuji had to stand on his toes to reach the handle of the main door.

You told him last week Yuji would turn down the volume of his shows and videogames whenever a car passed near your home. He said Nanami drives so carefully he can always tell when to open the door.

"Good night, Yuji." Nanami locked the car, now feeling how cold it was out there. It rained this morning, the road is still wet. He opened his coat to protect Yuji from the wind, and then noticed he was still wearing his uniform. "You haven't showered yet?"

Yuji gave him a bright smile. "Mom's doing a surprise for you."

In moments like that, Nanami can see your shadow lingering over Yuji. He really is a copy of his mom. That charming smile, a tendency to avoid the subject of discussion, and that trick of revealing something exciting so their wrongdoing can be ignored.

"And what's your mom doing, kid?" And just like with you, Nanami always fall for that obvious trap.

"It depends", he said. "Will you watch Caillou with me?"

Nanami blinked. That kid. "Of course", Nanami accepted the deal, stroking his pink hair as they entered the house.

"I dunno", Yuji walked straight towards the living room, leaving Nanami speachless.

He placed his glasses on the table, now working on the knot of his tie. The aroma evolving the entire house was a telltale of your baking, and the sounds coming from his belly reminded Nanami of how long it has been since his last meal.

Deep into your own inner thoughts, you didn't noticed his presence. Nanami made sure to keep quiet, admiring you as you made sure you followed the recipe correctly.

So beautiful. Unaware of his gaze, he knew there was no flourish in the way you moved or how you murmured a song playing inside your head. You weren't trying to charm him, you were just being you, and that was more than enough for Nanami to fall in love with you once more.

It still surprises Nanami. How easy it's to love you. To be in love with you. None of you are performing. There is no lies between you two. Not when Nanami holds your hair so you can vomit. Or when you hear all the complains he kept to himself for years. Nothing but truth when you worried about Yuji's grades, when Nanami cried loudly watching a k-drama with you on the couch, when you sneezed on his mouth.

You make life real. You make loving fun.

It doesn't feel like work.

But that doesn't mean things suddenly get perfectly fine when you both are together. Nanami noticed you're still wearing formal clothes. Your eyes seemed so small, glaring at the phone as if it was miles away instead of in the counter in front of you. You haven't taken your earring off yet.

This house is safe. You made sure to build it with love, brick by brick. To give your son everything a child deserves: to be happy, protected, cared for. And there is no way of doing that alone without working until exhaustion.

But you're not alone anymore.

You haven't noticed his presence, and still Nanami didn't felt you shivering when he hugged you from behind. You recognized him. Was it his perfume? The warmth of his hands? Or perhaps how they always find a way to hold you by the hips, feeling the soft skin with his fingers?

"Yuji's gonna be a attorney", he whispered against your ear. You melt against his chest, eyes now wide open and looking deep into his. Nanami wondered if you felt his heart racing.

You smiled. "Are you saying my son is an asshole?"

"Never, my dear", Nanami hid his face at the curve of your neck. Breathing deep, he felt you shivering. You were using the perfume he gave you. "You're tired."

You sighed. Nanami is a man of few words. Sadly he's also a man of surgically right few words. "And so are you."

He kissed your skin. "I can keep an eye on him", Nanami murmured. "And another on the oven. You don't need to worry."

"Are you sure?" Tempted to accept, you also didn't want Nanami to feel like you were part of his daily duties. You rather give than take from him.

Nanami squeezed your hips, slowly allowing you to go away from him. He needed you to go, but he also needed you to stay. "This house won't burn down just because you stopped working."

"Oh, but it will. I assure you", you laughed it off.

Nanami knew it wasn't just a joke. He could almost taste that bitterness that follows truth. "It won't. I won't allow it."

When he heard you closing the bathroom door—never locking because a part of you was always ready to run if Yuji needs help—, Nanami sat down on the couch. Yuji held the control, so big on his tiny hands, and put on the show he always watches when Nanami is there with him.

This time Caillou was eating some sort of chocolate dessert. Yuji moved his mouth, quietly saying the lines from every character. "Isn't it your favorite series ever?", Yuji asked, laughing as Caillou tried to eat the dessert. "Everything he eats looks so good!"

"I never watched something so great", Nanami gazed at him. It was the forth time Nanami watched this episode. "I like that one when he plants carrots. You should try eating those."

Yuji made a face. "I prefer chocolate pudding."

Nanami looked at the television. He would be free the next day. Yuji behaved well in school recently. You mentioned even thinking about buying him a new video game. "We can make it tomorrow."

Yuji turned around so quickly he almost fell from the couch. "Really?"

"Really."

Drying your face with a towel, you checked the oven. The bread you made was still growing. Good. The television had a cartoon going on, you turned it off and went after your boys.

At Yuji's bedroom, you found him deep asleep. Nanami took off his shoes and socks, covering him with a thick blanket. He was still wearing his uniform, but he looked so at peace you couldn't force yourself to care deeply about it.

You kissed his forehead, whispered sweet nothings, and went back to the living room. A few moments later, Nanami turned the lights off and closed the bedroom door.

Sitting besides you, Nanami knew.

Life was good again.

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

general taglist: @lovelyy-moonlight

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.

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minminbunny · 2 months ago

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ABO AU - Wolf Big Flared Cock Alpha! Bang Chan/Bunny Omega Gender Neutral! Reader

*smut part - AFAB/AMAB

💕Drabble Masterlist

❤️Ultimate Masterlist

"Hah, hah, hah," Chan gasped, thrusting his hips between his makeshift fleshlight. He groaned, slicking the toy with his leaky precum. Chan gulped, staring down at the entrance of the fleshlight as he teasingly thrusts his cock deeper and deeper within. "Oh, fuck. So good," he grunted, edging his orgasm as long as possible just to succumb to the neverending pleasure. He bit into his bottom lip, blood dripped down his chin from his sharp fangs.

Chan shuddered, tasting the blood on his tongue as he picked up the pace. The metallic scent flooded his senses, drowning him in sheer arousal. "Close, close, fuck," he groaned, hissing the moment his orgasm broke. Chan growled, fucking his cock to the hilt, his knot catching on the opening of the toy with each thrust. "Fuck me," he hissed, pumping a heavy load into the fleshlight.

"Channie hyungie, this is my new deskmate. They're a bunny omega," Jisung introduced, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. You gulped, intimidated by Chan's predatory gaze. Jisung noticed and nudged Chan's side, "Hyung, you're zoning out," he said, watching Chan snap back. "Shit, I'm sorry about that. I'm Bang Chan, you can call me Chan or Chris. Whichever you prefer," he said, giving you his dimpled smile.

Your eyes widened at his charming smile, "Nice to meet you," you whispered, slightly less intimidated by the Wolf. Jisung chuckled, "I told you, he's a sweetheart. Maybe he'll show his grouchy days when he doesn't get enough sleep but overall he's a decent alpha," he teased, rubbing your shoulders. Chan rolled his eyes, a smile etched on his lip, "Let's talk more over drinks. There's a boba store nearby. I heard it has oolong tea, Sung-ah," he said, ruffling Jisung's hair. Jisung beamed, "Heck yeah. Let's go" he said, dragging you along.

"Bun, can you get that for me?" Chan asked, working on his new demo. You nodded and passed him the juice. Chan hummed, easily getting into a domestic routine with you after hanging out without Jisung's presence. You grew comfortable with the Wolf. Something about his perfectly styled hair or his simple fashion made you grow closer to him. It was like opposites attract.

Chan watched you jolt some things on your tab, "Busy?" he asked, checking in your current status. You shook your head, setting your tablet aside. Chan chuckled, "Good. I'm planning to have dinner outside around six. Would you like to join?" He asked,i t's still lunchtime but he knows you don't like sudden appointments. You beamed, "Sure, I heard of a new Vietnamese restaurant that has a killer broth," you said, searching up the shop to show him.

Chan smiled, "I'm down as long as I get to hang out with you longer, cutie," he teased, lightly brushing your sensitive bunny ears. He groaned when your body shuddered from his touch, "You're so sensitive, bun. It's really tempting to graze your body and see what other types of reactions you'd give," he hummed, his pupils dilating at the thought. You averted his gaze, "Friends don't talk like that," you grumbled, trying to calm your racing heart. Chan chuckled, pulling his hand away, "You're right, cutie. But I can't help it, " he said, letting out a soft low growl that spurred your goosebumps.

NSFW BELOW CUT

AFAB

Heat covered your senses, his sheets filled with his musky ocean-like scent made your cunt throb. You burrowed your nose into his pillows, the raw musk of his shampoo and scent gland spurred your body deeper into heat. You gathered all the pillows and threw a blanket over them. You whimpered, tossing his dirty laundry onto the bed as you built your heating nest.

You pawed the fabric, making sure everything was perfect before you allowed your body to give in. You humped his pillow, your slicked messy cunt rubbed against the cotton sheets. Drenching them in thick viscous arousal as you chased after your own pleasure. Broken moans filled the room as your scent grew warmer, "Need more. I need more," you whined, thrusting your hips back and forth against his pillow.

Your ears flopper over your eyes from the sheer intensity of your bucks. Chan gulped, watching your desperate need. Your fluffy cottontail twitched with each stroke of your folds on his casing. He tugged off his shirt and clenched his jaw, "What in your right mind thought this was a good idea, bunny?" He growled, tugging back your sensitive ears.

You whimpered from the hold, your thighs quivering from being so close to the edge. "Sorry, I'm sorry, Chan. Your bed smelled so good and I forgot to think," you hiccup, rubbing your clit from the humiliation. Chan chuckled, "Little bunny, was lust so heavy that not a single ounce of rationality stayed? Was your leaky hole so desperate for cock that your body gave in the moment I took my eyes off you?" he growled, trailing his other hand down the back of your nape towards your tail.

"I thought you were sick, bun bun. I didn't expect hearing your needy little moans and your desperate scent flooding my house," he groaned, licking your ear. You whimpered, arching your back, "Please, Chris. Need your knot. Need it so bad," you sniffled, staring up at him with your glossy big eyes. Chan huffed through his nose, his rough hands easily manhandled you onto his lap.

Your plump thighs felt so good against him, your pretty ass was so plush and fuckable that he almost came untouched. Chan licked his lips, his gaze heavy and dark, "You're so small, bunny. So tiny against me. I don't want to hear your denials, cutie. No matter how much you weigh, you're tinier than me," he growled, gripping your love handles. You whined, his hot throbbing looked so big against your torso.

The tip of his cock was flared and so close to reaching your sternum. Chan smirked, "Aww, bunny. Is my cock too big and scary for my little prey?" He mocked, wrapping his tail around your waist. "I've watched tons of bunny reproduction videos just to know how much I can pound you, bun bun. Your pretty cunt will accommodate my cock, easily. Because that's what you're made for, cutie. You're a little breeding bun. Perfect for my pups," he growled, slapping his cockhead against your torso.

You mewled, body sensitive to the point that a single finger could draw an orgasm out of you. Chan lifted you by the waist, your searing folds awaiting his flared tip to penetrate deep within you, "Don't forget to scream," he chuckled, dropping your body lower and lower onto his girthy cock. You screamed into his chest, the pleasure burning within your brain.

Chan growled, scruffing your neck with each inch entering your tight fluttering walls. You sobbed into his chest as orgasms quivered through your body. Chan licked your tears away, his tongue grooming your fluffy ears as more and more of his throbbing cock filled your canal. Your eyes hazed over, an obvious tummy bulge appeared between the two of you.

Chan lightly brushed it, loving the way your cunt pulsed around his shaft, "There we go, bun. All deep to the hilt. You took me so well, cutie," he growled, licking your scent gland to sooth you. Words split from your lips like a blended up scrabble board. Nothing was coherently understandable. Chan lifted you by the waist and pinned you against the wall, the sheer force of gravity pushed you deeper onto his shaft.

Chan licked your bottom lip, "You're mine, understood. My prey. I'm not letting you go," he growled, kissing you deeply as he pounded his cock in and out of your leaking cunt. You sobbed into the kiss, his tongue dominating your mouth. Chan hummed into the kiss, his cock thrusting at a merciless and relentless pace. There wasn't a single moment where your body didn't feel pleasure.

Every stroke of his fat cock sent sparks towards your brain. Your ears flopped with each pound. His hips drilled into you, loud squelchy slaps of skin on skin echoed within the room like a porno. You rested your head against his shoulder, body dependent on his strength to hold you up, "Hah, ah, hah," you gasped and moaned, your eyes closed as a ringing buzzed in your ears.

Chan held you closer to the wall, "Fuck, fuck, bunny. Alpha's got you," he growled, pounding your cunt with more vigour as his knot grew with each thrust. You cried out at the stretch of the bulbous gland plugging your canal full. Chan hissed, licking your scent gland raw as copious amounts of cum filled your body. You shuddered, tasting a bit of the fluid hit the back of your throat with bile. You hiccuped, clawing his back as he nipped your scent gland. Chan growled, looking down at you with an affectionate gaze, "Pretty bunny. All mine. All for me," he hummed, his tail wagging as he held you through your blissful orgasmic haze.

AMAB

Heat covered your senses, his sheets filled with his musky ocean-like scent made your cock throb. You burrowed your nose into his pillows, the raw musk of his shampoo and scent gland spurred your body deeper into heat. You gathered all the pillows and threw a blanket over them. You whimpered, tossing his dirty laundry onto the bed as you built your heating nest.

You pawed the fabric, making sure everything was perfect before you allowed your body to give in. You humped his pillow, your slicked messy hole rubbed against the cotton sheets. Drenching them in thick viscous arousal as you chased after your own pleasure. Broken moans filled the room as your scent grew warmer, "Need more. I need more," you whined, thrusting your hips back and forth against his pillow.

Your ears flopper over your eyes from the sheer intensity of your bucks. Chan gulped, watching your desperate need. Your fluffy cottontail twitched with each stroke of your cock on his casing. He tugged off his shirt and clenched his jaw, "What in your right mind thought this was a good idea, bunny?" He growled, tugging back your sensitive ears.

You whimpered from the hold, your thighs quivering from being so close to the edge. "Sorry, I'm sorry, Chan. Your bed smelled so good and I forgot to think," you hiccup, rubbing your cockhead from the humiliation. Chan chuckled, "Little bunny, was lust so heavy that not a single ounce of rationality stayed? Was your leaky hole so desperate for cock that your body gave in the moment I took my eyes off you?" he growled, trailing his other hand down the back of your nape towards your tail.

The tip of his cock was flared and so close to reaching your sternum. Chan smirked, "Aww, bunny. Is my cock too big and scary for my little prey?" He mocked, wrapping his tail around your waist. "I've watched tons of bunny reproduction videos just to know how much I can pound you, bun bun. Your pretty hole will accommodate my cock, easily. Because that's what you're made for, cutie. You're a little breeding bun. Perfect for my pups," he growled, slapping his cockhead against your torso.

You mewled, body sensitive to the point that a single finger could draw an orgasm out of you. Chan lifted you by the waist, your searing rim awaiting his flared tip to penetrate deep within you, "Don't forget to scream," he chuckled, dropping your body lower and lower onto his girthy cock. You screamed into his chest, the pleasure burning within your brain.

Chan lightly brushed it, loving the way your hole pulsed around his shaft, "There we go, bun. All deep to the hilt. You took me so well, cutie," he growled, licking your scent gland to sooth you. Words split from your lips like a blended up scrabble board. Nothing was coherently understandable. Chan lifted you by the waist and pinned you against the wall, the sheer force of gravity pushed you deeper onto his shaft.

Chan licked your bottom lip, "You're mine, understood. My prey. I'm not letting you go," he growled, kissing you deeply as he pounded his cock in and out of your leaking hole. You sobbed into the kiss, his tongue dominating your mouth. Chan hummed into the kiss, his cock thrusting at a merciless and relentless pace. There wasn't a single moment where your body didn't feel pleasure.

Chan growled, marking your skin in tandem with his thrusts, bringing you closer and closer to ecstasy. He felt his knot grow bigger, and sweat matted his hair as veins protruded on his neck. You weakly wrapped your arms around his neck, moaning directly into his ear, "Knot. Want Alpha's knot so fucking bad," you sniffled, tears dripping down his shoulders as your slurred out your desires. Chan held you closer to the wall, "Fuck, fuck, bunny. Alpha's got you," he growled, pounding your hole with more vigour as his knot grew with each thrust. You cried out at the stretch of the bulbous gland plugging your canal full. Chan hissed, licking your scent gland raw as copious amounts of cum filled your body. You shuddered, tasting a bit of the fluid hit the back of your throat with bile. You hiccuped, clawing his back as he nipped your scent gland. Chan growled, looking down at you with an affectionate gaze, "Pretty bunny. All mine. All for me," he hummed, his tail wagging as he held you through your blissful orgasmic haze.

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lilacgaby · 2 months ago

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˗ˏˋ🧸 bows and bottles ౨ৎ

pairing: girldad!megumi x wife!reader

summary: megumi had been shocked by you multiple times this year. finding out you were pregnant? a shocker. with a girl though? even more shocking. good thing he was a natural.

tags: pet names, pregnancy, afab!reader, domestic au, marriage, insecurities, fluff

(a/n: another lovely ask by @lexiene !! i think every jjk character is a girldad personally )

those two lines you showed to him changed the course of his life.

he was nervous sure, but you being there always calmed him down. he examined the rest of the items you'd placed in the gift box one by one, noting the gender-neutral clothing.

"you don't know the gender yet?"

"no silly! i'm only like.. a month. i think i have to be eighteen weeks or something to know."

"oh, okay."

"are you hoping for a gender?" you asked, moving your legs to face him on the couch.

"no, as long as they're healthy." he answered honestly, though the thought of having a girl did make him feel a bit nervous.

"hm, okay."

the weeks working up to the appointment you'd made were nerve wracking for megumi. you'd only been suffering mild symptoms of nausea and fatigue, so he'd been at your hand and feet most days.

the months had passed and your bump had grew. he'd been an angel for you, never letting you complain for more than a couple seconds. he'd wake up in the middle of the night and cook for you if you needed, he just wanted you and his kid to be safe.

as he drove to the appointment, reality set into him. you were having his baby, and they were going to find out the gender right now.

but an idea struck you in the car. "hey, how about we have them keep it a secret? we can have a fun little gender reveal party."

he physically slumped at the idea, relaxing a bit. "yeah, sounds good. but a small party, gojo is way too much of a lightweight for a huge one like last time."

you laughed at the memory, looking out the window as you held megumi's hand close to your thigh.

the visit at the doctor's was quick, they put the results of the ultrasound into an envelope for you two, and let you take home dozens of copies of the scans.

you went home content, smiling brightly as you looked over the pictures.

"they have your nose." you said out of the blue.

"you can't even tell that, it's a scan."

"yes i can."

"whatever you say."

the next week you had a small get together with some of your friends and megumi's. you wore a plain white dress since you didn't mind if it was a boy or a girl, and megumi wore a white button-up.

gojo wore a pink shirt, and argued with yuuji who was wearing a blue shirt.

nobara was carrying bags and bags of baby supplies, but was also wearing a pink shirt.

nanami was there holding a small gift box, he wore a white button-up with a pink tie.

they, along with some of your family, all held up confetti poppers. at the count of three they blew them up, pink confetti flying everywhere.

as gojo and nobara high fived each other, cheering at how they were right, you and megumi hugged eachother.

you now were able to go crazy, making everything really cute and pink for your little daughter. bows and bunnies scattered her nursery, pink flowers painted all over the walls.

cute rugs and rocking chairs, even her crib got a princess canopy.

nobara had gotten you the cutest little dresses and shoes, in the tiny box nanami had gotten for your baby girl it was little earrings. pure gold with a gemstone of her assumed birthmonth.

the months passed by really quickly, megumi kept his missions to a minimum so he could stay clung to your side.

he was a saint like always, holding your bump up for you to give you a few moments of relief, massaging parts of your body, he'd always be there for you.

but your little girl was stubborn and refused to come out. when he thought you were sleeping he'd speak to her, ask her nicely to come out tomorrow, speak about how excited he was to see her.

after a couple nights of that and morning walks? your water broke. he grabbed the overnight bag and made it to the driveway, only to realize..

he forgot you. oops.

picking up an annoyed you, he made it to the car and drove as fast as he could safely.

you delivered your baby safely, megumi thinking his wrist was going to snap from how hard you had it in your grip. he rolled his eyes though, because you were right.

she did have his nose. and his hair color, and his eyes. but she had your skin color, your lips, your eyebrows.

she was adorable.

she slept the whole day, not waking up unless she was woke up by you or him. she was an angel. barely ever crying.

he was relieved to find that she had your demeanor, your expressiveness that was more than just a straight demeanor most of the time.

he was the happiest when he looked into her and saw you, features of you that worked so harmoniously with his.

she was perfect.

she definitely had a favorite. spoiler alert: it wasn't you.

she always giggled when megumi was around, her first word was papa, much to your dismay. she clung to him all day, he was a natural at everything after all.

whenever he'd go on missions she'd cry, him having to call you just so she could fall asleep.

when she became a toddler? she'd run to the door to greet him everytime he'd come back. staying up past her bedtime just to see him.

but always passing out in his arms, wanting to stay by his side as she slept.

he'd do her hair once it was long enough. she begged and begged for him to learn how to braid, and after much consultation he learned.

he was there with her when she got her ears pierced, holding her hand as the needle went through her ear. it didn't hurt, but the numbing sensation felt weird. she wore the golden earrings she was gifted 5 years ago with pride, almost convincing megumi to get his ears pierced too.

almost.

she had him wrapped around her finger, doing anything she wanted whenever. if she wanted a toy she had it the next day. she wanted to go somewhere? let's start planning a family trip.

he taught her how to read patiently, grabbing any number of baby books to help her piece together the words, clapping together when she read a page successfully.

they shared a sweet tooth, so most of time he'd 'sneak' her snacks. candy, lollipops, chocolate, cupcakes, they'd share them together and laugh because they thought you didn't notice.

they were like two peas in a pod, they acted exactly the same sometimes. shed repeat his sentences, the way he walked, and even his facial expressions.

she clung to you just as much though, don't get it confused. she loved your attention on her as much as he did, scrunching her face when you two kissed in front of her. her using her body to push you away and 'reprimand' megumi.

he loved his girls so much, he didn't think life could get any better than being sandwiched in between the two of you while you watched random movies in the living room.

but it magically did, when for his birthday he was gifted baby socks. "are you joking?" he said, hugging you both tightly.

"those are too small for him!"

"they aren't for him sweetheart."

with another baby girl on the way, and his two treasured ladies right beside him, he definitely thinks he was born for this.

to stand by all of your sides, forever.

#another megumi thank you #lilac asks❤︎︎#megumi x y/n #megumi :((((#megumi fluff #megumi x you #megumi fushiguro x reader #jujutsu megumi #megumi x reader #jujutsu kaisen megumi #jjk megumi #megumi fushiguro #jjk fushiguro #fushiguro x reader

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brandileigh2003 · 4 days ago

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Wolfstar "Hidden gems" underrated fics

~~~please give these authors love, fandom engagement with writers is down and it means more than you know. ~~~

I saw a post about lesser known fics yesterday and decided to try to boost some of my faves. They are under 500 kudos and deserve so much more. (I know that kudos and hits don't mean much at the end of the day, but...)

Feel free to comment or reblog your own fics or your favorites that fit!

-love finds a way by@littleoldrache Jurassic Park au ft disability and trans remus (you really can't go wrong with any of Rachel's fics though, they're amazing)

-The Standard Book Of Spells by Imparfait no voldy hogwarts au

-Tender is the touch (of someone that you love too much) by @purplefiction-ao3 (wip) multiple pov journey of remus waiting for heart transplant

--Engaged for 43 years by @halfravenhalfclaw sirius proposes at first sight at 11, follows til the afterlife (divergent)

--This Is the Way the World Ends by @blitheringmcgonagall sad but beautiful MCD

-Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations by TheQueerTailor Sixth year has just started and Remus is barely keeping up. He's just sixteen but it feels like his body is falling apart.

-Tertiary Colors by krabapple mpreg 1st war divergent, potters live (check out other fics too!)

-Black's Anatomy by @grasslesss greys anatomy fic, remus has lupus

-Give Me A Sign by @theresthesnitch soulmate fic, remus is deaf. (Wip)

-Sweets and Books by Writer_INFJ_2w1: bookshop au, chronic pain

-Babysitting For Dummies by Middleofamoment (37k) au raising teddy get together (theres a sequel and 3rd to come)

-Rarer Than One in a Million by Sp00nhater wolfstar is so soft and sweet, meet in hospital

-Tic Tic Boom by @fictionboysarebetter : Hogwarts fic, remus has tourettes (wip)

-The Ups and Downs of Inevitability by depressed_and_nauseous (check tags deals with heavy topics) remus is in Poppy's care for his safety (wip)

-Small Bones of Courage by Anonymous mcd, please read tags, sensitive topics. Later in life lycanthropy is terminal for remus.

-Flight of Destiny by @lucigoo lesbian wolfstar meet on plane (Luci also has lots of beautiful fics)

-Birthday Blues by YouBlitheringIdiot @blitheringmcgonagall :Sirius is turning sixty and he is appalled...

-Give Quarter to Old Men - @krethes series with older wolfstar

-lazing on a sunday afternoon by peachyybabe domestic slice of life

-I choose you to love for the rest of my life by Writer_INFJ_2w1 sapphic wolfstar wedding

-Puppy Magic by @demonbanisher thefifthmarauder17 magical divergent

-Consider the Lotus by busaikko: Sirius goes with remus to register at the ministry after the prank to show realities of lycanthropy

-Grow As We Go sapphicselene: post 1st war divergent, wolfstar in therapy

-From the Patient Files of Remus J Lupin, 1971 by TheQueerTailor

-While I breathe, I hope by MarigoldWritesThings by @marigold-hills divergent where remus left school after prank

-Without You by daffodilsonaprettystring Titanic mcd (wip)

-Blinded Fate by FatedEcho- Star wars meets wolfstar (wip)

-catch me on the way down by raggedypond

--To die, as lovers may by @moggetbright vampire Sirius and Hunter Remus

-The First Train Home by @houndsinheaven look into 76 and 95

-The Streak by @greyfavorite Remus dressed as a cowboy

-Francesca Syndrome by @coralsunset and diplobeanz: pining Remus

-You Drive Me Crazy by @klilyr based on you drive me crazy

-lights over harvest moon by @shoopsthereitis get together

-maybe time running out is a gift by messrsrarchives @roblogging mcd sickfic

-Love at First Bloom by viwrites @just--vi flower shop au with pining and chronically ill Remus

-cosmic entanglement by @maladaptivewriting wolfstar in every universe!!!!

-Meet Me In The Exosphere by @euripidestrousers top gun au

-Remus lupins guide on how to (not) become a quidditch seeker by Girl_rotting

-we grew up in spite of it by peachyybabe wip, remus has a twin, mcd

-beautiful boy by peachyybabe wip, mcd, based on beautiful boy

This is technically over "kudos cap" but i really don't see it rec'd enough:

-Wishes on Stars by Quietlemonhush, TherestheSnitch fairy tale: remus wishes for a friend

**this post was made in Nov 2024, so hopefully some of these numbers have changed and you've made some authors' day 💙💙

#underrated fic recs #hidden gems #fic recs #under 500 kudos #wolfstar #give these authors love #remus lupin #sirius black #marauders #lesser known fics #lesser known authors #but damn they're beautiful #fanfic #under rated fanfic recs

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littlefluu · 3 months ago

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𓍯𓂃𓏧 E N H Y P E N F I C R E C S

AUGUST 19th, 2024 RECOMMENDATIONS

WELCOME TO A SMALL LITTLE COLLECTIONS OF RECENT WORKS I ENJOYED (I was really busy with uni so there isn´t that much new material here! For more recommendations check out my main masterlist) ⤷ GO BACK TO THE MAIN ENHYPEN MASTER LIST WITH EVEN MORE RECOMMENDATIONS ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

ALL OF THE MEMBERS

love. f. moments where they realize they are in love or when they fall harder than they did before ᝰ fluff, short scenarios, all members .ᐟ₊ ⊹

Maybe in another universe !? by @leaderwon a. enhypen members texts after you pass away ᝰ sad, angsty SMAU, all members .ᐟ₊ ⊹

LEE HEESUNG

teeth by @gyuuberryy f, sug. you were not thrilled about the move in of your new neighbour. mostly because he was so strange and seemed to be hiding something dark. and partly because you couldn’t stop yourself from getting closer to him because of your unwanted attraction. you were determined to expose his dark secret and get rid of him once and for all. but, it was proving to be a difficult task because he was just so irresistible..and needy. ᝰ enemies to lovers, vampire!heeseung x reader .ᐟ₊ ⊹

talk tomorrow by @soobnny f. drunken confessions ᝰ best friends to lovers, heeseung x reader .ᐟ₊ ⊹

predictable predicament by @timextoxhajima f,s. so you're best friends with the campus hottie who happens to be the quietest one in his group of friends. he's different with you though. ᝰ best friend! heeseung, fluff, smut in the least explicit way .ᐟ₊ ⊹

PARK JONGSEONG

7:18 AM by @ashtxrie f. jay surprises a very sleepy y/n with breakfast. ᝰ established relationship, pure fluff, heavy domestic content timestamp, jay x reader .ᐟ₊ ⊹

Naturally by @ikeuverse f,s. ★ jay has always been very private about his love life and physical contact in front of his friends, but a comment from his work colleagues made him rethink some things. ᝰ established relationship, fluff, smut, domestic , chef!jay x fem!reader .ᐟ₊ ⊹

How you get the girl by @jaylver f, a. ★ Beach parties are supposedly fun and exciting, aren’t they? Wrong. Experiencing college parties is rare for you, but you decided to give this one a go after your best friend’s constant pleas. Things were alright until everything turned sour when trouble found you and eventually you were roped into a fight alongside the campus’ famous hockey playboy. As if that wasn’t enough, the devil himself conjured up an idea that you found yourself being entangled in. It was all fun and games up until confusion arose, feelings being confessed and played, in the end, Jay had to learn how to get the girl, his girl. ᝰ strangers to frenemies to lovers, fake dating au, college sports au, romance, fluff, angst, secret pining, ice hockey player!jay x afab!reader .ᐟ₊ ⊹

SIM JAEHYUN

Car rides by @jlheon f. a sequence of events from your and jake’s senior year ᝰ neighbors to lovers, fluff, highschool au .ᐟ₊ ⊹

SOUL SISTERS f. where layla shows how much she cares about the growing life inside you. ᝰ fluff, heavy domestic content, husband!jaeyun x pregnant!reader, .ᐟ₊ ⊹

break the ice by @jaylver f, a. ★ Punching a guy in the club then kissing him not long after at a hockey game wasn't exactly a fairytale, but for you, it was your reality. The worst part of all it wasn't even the incidents that happened, but the fact that you didn't know him or his name. That was until another stir of events that happened which caused you and him to actually meet, so what was the best way to break the ice after a disastrous punch and a shocking kiss together? A date. It could be love at first sight, or more accurately, it was love at first punch, or … kiss? ᝰ strangers to lovers, college sports au, romance, angst, ice hockey player!jake x afab!reader.ᐟ₊ ⊹

Midnight train (back to you) by @jaylver f, a. ★ You declared to the world that this summer will be yours. Ever since you’ve left home to chase your dream further in Europe, you never dared to look back, leaving your friends and family along with the precious memories there, including your silent love for your closest friend. Years passed, you were making a name for yourself and chasing that fame, settling in perfectly fine and eventually moved on with life. All was well until the transfer window came, announcing a new addition to the men’s first team, who also happened to be your childhood best friend, Jake Sim. Summer in Spain wouldn’t be what it is without experiencing lots of rekindling, heartbreaks, fallout but also a shot at love. ᝰ childhood friends to lovers, college/professional sports au, romance, angst, pining, (slight) slow burn, pro-footballer!jake x pro-footballer afab!reader .ᐟ₊ ⊹

PARK SUNGHOON

Insatiable by @moonhoures s. your vampire bf suddenly becomes clingy which can only mean he’s hungry or horny . . . or both ᝰ non-idol!au, vampire!au, smut, sunghoon x reader .ᐟ₊ ⊹

Fatal trouble by @gyuuberryy f. your roommate is hot. really really hot. and odd too. really really odd. after a strange experience with him, you slowly start distancing yourself from him. but, it becomes exceptionally hard with your feelings coming in the way. how are you supposed to protect yourself if you can’t resist him? the answer is you don’t need to. your fates are intertwined and there's no letting go. ᝰ roommates to lovers, vampire au, soulmate au, vampire!sunghoon x reader .ᐟ₊ ⊹

MS. & MR. President by @jlheon f. seeing your ex in public leads to hiding in a small photobooth with your annoying student council vice president park sunghoon ᝰ non-idol!au, frenemies to lovers, sunghoon x freader .ᐟ₊ ⊹

CRAZY, STUPID, LOVE by @jaylver f, a. ★ Having a one night stand wasn’t your forte, but with the help of adrenaline, and most definitely not alcohol, you managed to rope yourself into one. Worst part of all was the fact that you didn’t even know his name! The only distinguishable part of him was his blinding white hair. You figured you will never see him again after, but you were so wrong. Your friend practically set you up for failure after convincing you to take her place on a blind date to try and drive the guy away, only for it to be the one you slept with, who also happened to be your mother’s best friend’s son that you met right before that. ᝰ strangers to lovers, college sports au, romance, comedy, slice of life, angst, (attempted) he fell first but she fell harder, slowburn-ish, ice hockey player!sunghoon x afab!reader .ᐟ₊ ⊹

RIKI NISHIMURA

supernova by @star-sim f,a,h. riki was the city's top hero, you were the top villain. when your archnemisis pulls up to your apartment late at night, all battered and bruised, you just sighed and took him in. you were a villain, not a monster! ᝰ hero! riki x femvillain! reader, superhero! au, enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort, fluff, a lil bit of angst .ᐟ₊ ⊹

duck by @jlheon f. you want a sonny angel hipper ᝰ Idol bf! nishimura riki x fem! reader, established relationship, fluff .ᐟ₊ ⊹

MY FAVORITE AUTHORS THIS MONTH @jlheon ★ @jaylver ★ @gyuuberryy

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alygator77 · 4 months ago

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ᰔᩚ motherhood and matrimony I ch 4 ᰔᩚ

ꨄ︎ pairing. au ceo! satoru gojo x single mom secretary fem! reader

ꨄ summary. satoru gojo, the arrogant and irresistible heir to a billion-dollar corporation and the son of your boss, the ceo... but when satoru’s father dies unexpectedly, his inheritance hinges on a stipulation: he must marry and have a child, but the child doesn't necessarily have to be his, right? together, you strike a deal: a fake marriage that promises financial stability for you and corporate control for him. as the lines between business and emotion blur, you must decide if your partnership is purely contractual or if it could evolve into something real.

ꨄ︎ warnings/tags. 18+ MDNI, nsfw, enemies to lovers, opposites attract, fake marriage, slow burn, smut, fluff, bit of angst, reader is single mom who recently broke off her engagement, satoru being a cute step dad, naoya is your crappy ex, some triggers of domestic abuse (emotional abuse but it can be a bit suggestive/interpreted as physical, from naoya not satoru) » 【note, this chapter contains extreme emotional manipulation from naoya, reader discretion advised】

ꨄ words: 9.3k

ꨄ a/n. okaaaay time for some angst ya'll. this series is taking a serious turn 🥲 also, as i said earlier, originally this chapter was 20k words buuuut i decided to split it up. i know ya'll said you wouldn't mind one long chapter but it's just, there are moments that i really want to give more time to breathe. you'll get ch 5 soon though, enjoy ♡

ꨄ taglist: closed (ao3)

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series masterlist ꨄ︎ previous chapter ꨄ︎ next chapter →

ch 4 // shadows of doubt

“…you sure you’re okay watching Haru?” you ask, hovering by the doorway, your fingers lightly brushing the doorframe as you steal one last glance into the living room.

The television screen casts a soft glow over Satoru and Haru, nestled together on the couch.

Satoru’s brow is furrowed in concentration as he fumbles with the TV remote, cycling through the menu. His lips are pressed into a thin line, his tongue peeking out slightly at the corner in a classic expression of someone deeply focused.

His usually tousled white hair is messier than usual, as if he’s run his hands through it a few too many times in frustration, and his sweater hangs loosely on his frame, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows.

It’s a stark contrast to the sharp, tailored suits you’re used to seeing him in.

But that’s because right now, he’s just Satoru—the guy who’s clearly struggling with something as simple as setting up a kid’s TV show, and yet, there’s something incredibly endearing about it.

Haru, oblivious to his difficulties, swings her tiny legs back and forth in a rhythm of excitement as she sits beside him.

It’s a picture of domesticity that feels almost too perfect to disrupt—a scene that brings warmth, but also a sharp pang of guilt.

Guilt—of what you are about to do.

“Yes, of course,” he replies without missing a beat, light yet reassuring. He glances up at you briefly, offering a warm smile. “Do what you need to do, it’s important to have time to yourself.”

Right now, it feels like you don’t deserve that smile.

The ache in your chest intensifies at the sincerity in his words, making the lie you’re carrying out feel even heavier.

Finally, after a few more clicks, the TV springs to life, and a triumphant grin spreads across Satoru’s face as the familiar Digimon theme song bursts through the speakers.

The sound seems to ignite a spark of joy in Haru, her face wide eyed as she turns her full attention to the screen.

“Besides, I promised her we’d watch Digimon together,” Satoru says, his voice laced with affection as he glances at Haru. “Now’s the perfect time. Right, Haru?”

Haru beams, her small body practically vibrating with excitement as she snuggles closer to him.

“Wow, look ‘toru, look!” she exclaims gleefully, her voice high-pitched with exhilaration as she points at the screen.

Her eyes sparkle with wonder, completely captivated by the vibrant colors and lively characters dancing across the television.

“Yay!” she claps her hands together.

A tender smile curls upon Satoru’s lips as he shifts his gaze from Haru to you. His blue eyes, always so vibrant and full of life, are soft and inviting, radiating a sense of calm—a calm that should put you at ease, but why does it fill you with more guilt?

“See? We’ve got it all under control. Go do what you need to do, and don’t worry about a thing.”

His words are spoken with such warmth and trust—it should comfort you, but instead your unease twists further in your gut.

You force a smile, trying to push away the shame that threatens to rise to the surface.

“Alright,” you murmur, “I won’t be long.”

But you linger for just a moment longer, unable to tear your eyes away from the heartwarming sight before you.

The way Satoru drapes an arm around Haru, pulling her closer as they both become engrossed in the show—you realize something profound.

It’s in the subtle details—the way he listens intently to her excited chatter, how he nods along, genuinely interested in every little thing she points out, even if it’s something as simple as a colorful character on the screen.

Satoru isn’t just watching Digimon with Haru; he’s immersing himself in her world.

He’s someone who takes the time to enjoy the things she loves, someone who listens to her with the patience and attentiveness she deserves. He’s supporting her curiosity, encouraging her to explore and express herself, making her feel valued in a way that is both gentle and profound.

It’s everything you’ve ever wanted for Haru—a stable, loving figure in her life, someone she can depend on, someone who can always be there for her. Someone who makes her feel safe, cherished, and free to be her true self.

Someone Naoya never was.

But this relationship is a contract, a charade—a lie.

And now, this new lie you’re about to bring to the table, casts an even darker shadow over this picture of domestic bliss.

There is a storm cloud, threatening to break at any moment—to drench you in an unforgiving rain. And that storm cloud is your reality.

The reality that this relationship has always been a lie, hasn’t it?

So... is what you’re doing really any different?

As you turn to leave, your body feels heavy, burdened by the deception you’re carrying with you.

Closing the door behind you, the soft click echoes in your ears as you begin to walk down the hallway, away from the warmth of the living room and into the cold reality of the decision you’ve made.

ꨄ

A soft jingle rings above your head as you push open the glass door to the coffee shop—a sound almost too cheerful considering what’s to come. Once the door closes behind you with a muted thud, your fate is sealed.

The scent of freshly brewed coffee hits you first, rich and earthy, mingling with the sweet, buttery aroma of pastries that line the display case. It’s a combination that would normally invite comfort, a location for quiet relaxation.

Today, however, that feels entirely out of reach.

Only a few patrons are scattered about, each lost in their own world—reading books, typing away on laptops, or simply enjoying company. The soft murmur of conversation barely registers in your ears as your eyes sweep across the room.

Within moments you spot Naoya, seated at a corner table in the back, a place where the dimness nearly swallows him whole, casting long shadows that seem to cling to him like a second skin.

His chosen spot is strategic, offering both a sense of privacy and an air of intimidation.

It’s a stage he’s set perfectly.

The way he sits—one arm draped casually over the back of the booth, the other cradling a coffee cup—exudes an unsettling confidence, as if he’s already decided the outcome of this meeting.

His minacious eyes rake over you and he registers the trepidation in your step, causing a shiver to run down your spine as his lips slowly curl into a predatory smirk.

Setting down his cup of coffee with a practiced ease, the porcelain clinks softly against the saucer. With a lazy flick of his wrist, he waves you over, the gesture so casual it’s almost insulting, as if he were summoning a servant rather than inviting a conversation.

You lower yourself into the chair across from him with measured deliberation, desperately trying to project a façade of composure even as anxiety, anger, and guilt roil within you like a brewing storm.

Unfortunately, the table between you and Naoya feels woefully insufficient, a flimsy barrier against the man who once wielded a terrifying influence over your life—a man who now threatens to shatter the fragile peace you’ve painstakingly pieced together.

“y/n,” he begins, his voice smooth and slick, like oil spilling over water, spreading tendrils of unease. “I’m glad you decided to show up.”

You force a tight smile, though it feels more like a grimace.

“You didn’t exactly leave me much of a choice, did you?”

A low insidious chuckle leaves Naoya’s lips, the noise grating on your nerves. His cold calculating eyes hold your gaze as he tilts his head to the side, and for a moment, you feel like a mouse caught in a trap, every avenue of escape cut off, leaving you with nowhere to run.

“Tch. What else am I supposed to do?” his tone drips with mock innocence, as if he’s genuinely puzzled. “You don’t answer any of my calls. It’s almost like you’re trying to avoid me.”

His eyes narrow slightly, a flicker of something dark and unreadable passing through them.

“You look well, though. I’ve missed you.”

The casual cruelty in his tone, the way he throws out those words—words that should carry weight—as if they mean nothing, as if he hasn’t been tormenting you.

It makes your skin crawl.

“I didn’t come here to chat, Naoya,” you say firmly. “What do you want?”

You catch a flash of his white teeth in the dim light of the coffee shop, but there’s a cruel twist to his lips, a smugness that makes your stomach churn with unease.

“Straight to the point, I see. I always loved that about you,” he drawls, his tone almost affectionate.

He leans back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other in a posture of relaxed arrogance.

There is a beat of silence as he pauses, as if savoring each moment of your discomfort, drawing it out and relishing the control he has over the situation.

The control he has over you.

“I think you know what I want, y/n,” he continues, tone almost patronizing, as if speaking to a child who just doesn’t understand. “I want what’s best for Haru. I’m sure you do too.”

“You’re threatening to take her away from me. How is that what’s best for her?” you scoff, though the defiance in your voice barely masks the trembling fear underneath.

His gaze roams over you, assessing, calculating, and it takes everything in you not to shrink under the weight of his scrutiny.

When he speaks again, his voice is a low, dangerous whisper that sends a shiver down your spine, cold as ice and sharp as a blade.

“Because,” he hisses, the word dripping with venom, “you’re not thinking clearly. You’re letting your emotions cloud your judgment. Haru deserves stability, a future where she’s not dragged into whatever mess you and Satoru are involved in.”

The accusation cuts deep, and despite your best efforts, you flinch slightly at his words, the reaction small but not unnoticed.

Naoya’s eyes glint with satisfaction, feeding off the fear and uncertainty he’s managed to briefly instill within you.

Before you can muster a response, he leans in closer, his tone shifting, becoming smooth and insidious, like poison seeping through the cracks of your resolve.

“Oh y/n,” he sighs, voice dripping with false sympathy, “I know this thing with Satoru is just a charade. You may think you’re merely playing house, but what you’re actually doing is setting Haru up for confusion and heartache. What kind of future is that for her?”

It’s like he’s pulled the rug out from under your feet. The air around you seems to thicken, making it hard to breathe. Because deep down, a part of you has feared how this arrangement may affect Haru.

The doubt that Naoya is sowing isn’t new—it’s something you’ve deliberately tried to ignore.

The connection Haru is forming with Satoru, the bond that’s growing stronger every day—isn’t it built on a foundation of lies?

What happens when it all crumbles—what happens to Haru then?

What if you’re setting her up for a heartbreak that she’s too young to understand?

Ah…but that’s what Naoya is good at, isn’t it?

He thrives on stirring a visceral reaction within you, on playing your emotions like a finely tuned instrument. And you know better—you know better than to believe that his actions have anything to do with Haru’s well-being.

After all, Naoya has only ever used Haru as a tool to control you, to manipulate you into doing his bidding.

He doesn’t truly want Haru—he never has.

This is just a twisted game, another attempt to bend you to his will.

“Naoya,” you begin, voice trembling with a mix of anger and desperation, “this isn’t about what’s best for Haru. Cut the crap,” you snap, the frustration seeping through your words, giving you a fleeting sense of strength. “Don’t play games with me. What are you really after?”

Naoya’s response is a soft, chilling chuckle, a sound so unnerving that it slithers around you, making your skin prickle with unease.

He tilts his head slightly, regarding you with a twisted sense of satisfaction, the corners of his mouth curving into a smirk that’s as sharp as a knife’s edge.

“You’re not as naïve as you look,” he murmurs.

With a deliberate elegance, he runs his fingers through his hair, smoothing it back and straightening his posture as if ready to present himself for something significant. He then leans forward, fixing you with a gaze that feels like a vise tightening around your heart.

“I’m willing to make a deal with you.”

You swallow hard, forcing the question past the lump in your throat.

“What kind of deal?”

His eyes glisten with satisfaction, a spark of triumph lighting them up as if this is the moment he’s been waiting for all along.

“Do you remember the case that was quietly swept under the rug a few years back?” he begins, tone almost conversational. “The one that could have destroyed the Gojo family? Well of course, you don’t—because the Gojos made sure no one remembered.”

A cold dread settles in the pit of your stomach as the gravity of what he’s saying begins to sink in. You try to piece together what he could possibly mean, but the implications are too terrifying to fully grasp.

“…what are you saying?”

Naoya’s smirk widens, a cruel light flickering in his eyes as he watches your reaction.

“Oh, don’t play dumb, y/n. You know exactly what I’m talking about. The Gojo family isn’t as squeaky clean as they’d like everyone to believe. That closed case—it’s a time bomb waiting to go off, and I’m the one holding the detonator.”

With a casual elegance, Naoya places his elbow on the table and rests his chin in the palm of his hand, his gaze never leaving yours.

“I want you to help me reopen the case,” his voice now a silky, dangerous murmur. “I need inside information, something to poke holes in the Gojo family’s defense. Satoru trusts you, doesn’t he? He’s practically handed you the keys to the kingdom.”

Your blood runs cold as you grapple with the enormity of what he’s asking.

“You want me to spy on Satoru? To dig up dirt on his family?”

Naoya shrugs, the gesture so casual, so dismissive, as if the request is the most natural thing in the world.

“Spy is such an ugly word. Let’s call it… protecting your daughter’s future. You help me get the information I need, and I’ll make sure this custody battle disappears. You’ll never have to worry about losing Haru.”

You feel sick to your stomach as the full impact of his ultimatum crashes down on you.

Your skin crawls at the way he frames it—to him it’s as if he’s offering you a lifeline, a way out of an impossible situation. But the reality is, he’s trapping you, coercing you into betraying the one person who has given you a chance at a new life.

Betray Satoru?

The very thought twists like a knife in your gut.

Satoru—the man who has shown you nothing but kindness, who has gone out of his way to make you feel safe, to make you feel valued. The man who has opened his home to you and Haru, who has treated your daughter with a warmth and love that you never thought she would receive.

How could you possibly betray him? Be his downfall? The mere thought of it makes your chest tighten, your heart aching with the weight of the impossible decision that Naoya is forcing upon you.

But then, the other side of the coin looms large and terrifying: the risk of losing Haru forever. The thought of her being taken from you, of her being dragged into Naoya’s world, is a nightmare you can’t bear to even consider.

The two most important people in your life, and Naoya is forcing you to choose between them.

How can you possibly make such a choice?

“I…I can’t do that, Naoya. Satoru—he’s done nothing wrong,”

The words feel hollow, desperate, as if you’re grasping for some semblance of control in a situation where you have none.

Naoya’s expression darkens, the cold veneer of civility slipping as a more menacing presence takes over. He leans in closer, the air around him growing colder, heavier with the weight of his intentions.

“Satoru and his family deserve whatever’s coming to them,” he hisses. “You just have to decide whose side you’re on. Corporate malpractice, insider trading, possibly even a cover-up. The Gojo family has skeletons in their closet, and I intend to expose them. But to do that, I need information. Inside information.”

“No, Naoya,” you say more forcefully, your voice trembling slightly but growing steadier as your resolve hardens. “That would destroy Satoru.”

For a moment, there’s a flicker of something in Naoya’s eyes—frustration, perhaps, or irritation at your defiance. But it’s fleeting, quickly replaced by a darker, more calculating expression.

“You think this is a game, y/n?” his voice drips with disdain. “You think Satoru won’t throw you to the wolves the moment things get tough? He’s a Gojo, through and through. They protect their own, and you’re not one of them.”

A cold dread washes over you as his words echo in your mind, sinking into the darkest corners of your thoughts.

Wait…is he actually, right?

No—you push back against the rising tide of doubt. Satoru wouldn’t do that. He’s been nothing but kind, patient, and understanding. He’s given you no reason to believe he would ever abandon you, especially not in a moment of crisis.

But… then there’s the stipulation in your contract. The one that states any poor publicity to his name would result in being cut off from all financial support.

The words of the contract flash in your mind, stark and unforgiving.

You had brushed it off as a mere formality when you first signed it, a precautionary clause meant to protect his reputation. But now, under the weight of Naoya’s words, it feels like a ticking time bomb, ready to go off the moment anything goes wrong.

Doubt seeps into your veins, intertwining with the fear that Naoya’s threat might have more truth to it than you’d like to admit.

Could Satoru really turn his back on you if the situation spiraled out of control? Would he prioritize his family name, his legacy, over you and Haru?

Seeing the flicker of hesitation in your eyes, Naoya’s expression softens, adopting a mask of concern. His voice lowers, becoming almost gentle, as if he’s offering you a lifeline.

“But if you help me,” he continues, silky and persuasive, “you’ll have leverage—real power. You’ll be in control. Think about Haru. Think about what’s best for her.”

“I… I don’t think I can do it,” the words escape your lips in a trembling whisper.

Naoya’s eyes narrow, and his voice hardens.

“You don’t have much of a choice, y/n. You’re in this mess because of your own decisions. Instead of relying on me you chose him. But lucky for you, I’m offering you a way out—a way to keep Haru safe. But if you refuse, I will use every legal trick in the book to take her from you. And believe me, I will win. I always do.”

The finality in his words leaves no room for doubt—Naoya isn’t bluffing.

He’s a man who gets what he wants, no matter the cost, and the ruthless determination in his eyes tells you that he’s more than willing to destroy your life to achieve his goals.

“You’re a monster,” you murmur, the words slipping out before you can stop them.

Naoya’s response is immediate, his smirk widening with satisfaction.

“I’m a lawyer,” he corrects, his tone dripping with smugness. “And I’m very good at what I do.”

You look down, unable to meet his gaze.

“What exactly do you want me to do?” you whisper.

Naoya’s eyes gleam with triumph as a victorious smirk curls upon his lips. He reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out a slim envelope.

With a deliberate slowness, he slides it across the table, the paper making a soft, ominous rustle as it comes to a stop in front of you.

“Inside this is everything you need to help me. I want information, y/n. Information on Satoru. His business dealings, his vulnerabilities—anything I can use to gain leverage over him.”

The envelope sits there between you, a tangible representation of the impossible choice you’re being forced to make.

Your hands twitch at your sides, but you can’t bring yourself to reach for it—the burden of its contents is far too heavy.

Naoya leans back in his chair, watching intently for any sign of hesitation, his gaze unyielding. He presses you again, his voice a smooth, sinister whisper.

“You help me, and I’ll make sure this custody battle disappears. You’ll never have to worry about losing Haru.”

Your hand trembles as you extend it, hovering over the envelope. Naoya’s grin widens, his eyes gleaming with triumph, anticipating your surrender.

But just as your fingertips brush the envelope, you stop.

The smile slips from Naoya’s face, replaced by a flicker of surprise, then annoyance, as you push the envelope back across the table. The cold edge of the paper scrapes against your skin, the sound eerily loud in the tense silence between you.

“I’ll need some time,” you say finally, your voice quieter now, more controlled, though it takes everything in you to keep it steady. “This isn’t a decision I can make lightly.”

Naoya’s expression darkens, his patience clearly waning. With a swift, almost irritated motion, he snatches the envelope and tucks it back into his coat pocket.

“I’m not a patient man, y/n, you know this,” he warns, the threat clear in his tone. “You have one week. If I don’t get an answer by then, the custody battle begins. And trust me,” his tone drops to a menacing whisper, “you don’t want to fight me in court.”

“I’ll let you know,” you murmur, unable to meet his gaze as your eyes are fixed on the table between you.

Naoya’s smirk returns, a slow, victorious curve of his lips.

It’s a look that says he’s already won, that he’s confident you’ll bend to his will.

“Good girl. I know you’ll see reason. I’ll expect your call soon.”

He stands with a deliberate calmness, smoothing the front of his jacket before tossing a few bills onto the table as if this entire conversation has been nothing more than a routine business transaction.

The casualness of his movements, the ease with which he holds your fate in his hands, only serves to deepen the pit of dread forming in your stomach.

“Think it over, love. I’ll be in touch.”

With those final words, Naoya turns and strides out of the coffee shop, leaving you sitting there, feeling as though the walls are closing in around you.

You can’t shake the feeling that no matter what you decide, something precious will be lost.

ꨄ

It’s much later than you intended—a few hours past the time you told Satoru you’d be home. But after your meeting with Naoya, you simply couldn’t summon the strength to face him.

How could you possibly stand before him now?

The very thought of looking into his eyes feels like a betrayal in itself, as if the truth you’re hiding might spill out just from his gaze alone.

Naoya’s words continue to echo in your mind, twisting around your thoughts like a serpent coiling tighter with each passing moment.

You can almost hear the whispers of scandal creeping through the corridors of the Gojo Corporation.

Surely this custody battle would bring poor publicity to Satoru’s name… knowing Naoya, it would be a spectacle—a media circus designed to tarnish every aspect of Satoru’s life.

Your heart races as you picture the headlines splashed across every tabloid, the relentless swarm of reporters, cameras flashing like a thousand tiny daggers aimed at your very soul.

They’d dig into every corner of your lives, twisting facts and fabricating lies until the truth is buried beneath layers of sensationalism.

You’ve seen Satoru’s world—perfectly organized, meticulously maintained, a reflection of the man himself. But Naoya has the power to create cracks in that perfect image, to expose the vulnerabilities hidden beneath the surface.

He would ensure it—he’d savor every moment of watching Satoru’s pristine reputation crumble, brick by brick.

What would Satoru do if you told him Naoya’s intentions?

Would he support you, or would he choose to protect himself, his legacy, over you and Haru?

The very thought makes your heart ache, a sharp pang of fear twisting through your chest—fear of losing the delicate balance you’ve found with Satoru, of watching it all unravel because of Naoya’s malice.

What is the right choice to make?

The question loops endlessly in your mind, a never-ending cycle of doubt that gnaws at your resolve.

You don’t know what to believe any more.

You need time—something you don’t have an abundance of right now. After all, you can’t avoid Satoru forever—he’ll wonder where you’ve been, what’s kept you away for so long.

And so, reluctantly, with a heart heavy and unresolved emotions, you return home.

ꨄ

The faint ticking of the grand clock echoes in the house as you creak open the door and re-enter. The sound, which usually blends into the background of your day, now feels loud—almost deafening in the silence of the home.

Rounding your way to the living room, the dim glow of the television casts flickering shadows on the walls—the only thing that seems alive in the stillness.

But the sight you are met with is something entirely unexpected—something that pushes away the darkness inside of you, if only for a moment.

Satoru sits on the couch, his posture relaxed but his expression one of bemused helplessness, as though he’s found himself in a situation that he’s not quite sure how to navigate.

His long legs are stretched out in front of him, but there’s a tenderness in the way he holds his arms around the small figure resting against him.

Haru, curled up on his lap, is nestled against his chest, her tiny body rising and falling with each gentle breath as the steady rhythm of his heartbeat seems to lull her deeper into sleep. One of her small hands clutches the fabric of his shirt, as if seeking comfort even in her dreams, while the other is tucked close to her body, holding her favorite plush toy—Pikachu.

The TV is on, but the volume is muted, playing some late-night rerun that neither of them are paying attention to as the soft flickering light illuminates against them.

Satoru glances up as you enter the room, eyes brightening as he spots you. A sheepish smile tugs at the corner of his lips, a mixture of relief and quiet joy at your return.

“Hey, welcome back,” he says softly, careful not to disturb Haru.

It’s moments like this, that make it impossible to doubt him. The warmth in his voice makes the knot of tension in your chest loosen, if only a little.

You manage a small smile in return.

“Thanks,” you murmur.

As you begin to set your things down—your bag, your coat—Satoru’s gaze follows you, soft and attentive.

“Did you enjoy your time to yourself?”

It’s such a simple question, yet it’s loaded with the weight of the lie you’re living.

You force a smile, hoping it doesn’t look as strained as it feels, and nod, trying to keep your voice steady and light.

“Yeah…it was nice to have a little break.”

A tender smile curls upon his lips, his relief evident as he nods back.

“Good. You deserve some time for yourself.”

The words are filled with such warmth and care that it almost breaks you. But you swallow down the guilt, knowing you can’t afford to let it show. Not now.

As you make your way towards him, your gaze softens, drawn irresistibly to the sight of Haru. You kneel down beside the couch, your eyes tracing the delicate lines of her face, so peaceful and content as she rests in Satoru's lap.

“She fell asleep?” your voice barely above a whisper.

He nods, shifting slightly but careful not to wake her.

“Yeah. We were watching Digimon like I promised, but she conked out halfway through. I didn’t know what to do, so I’ve just been sitting here for the past two hours.”

Your heart swells at his words—the thought of Satoru sitting there, his world seemingly paused just to let her sleep undisturbed, truly that is real… right?

You reach out and gently brush a strand of hair from Haru’s face, your fingers lingering for a moment on her cheek.

Her skin warm and smooth, her breathing steady and calm, the gentle rise and fall of her chest—each element is a testament to the trust she’s placed in this space that Satoru has helped create.

She looks so at peace, so completely untroubled and…it’s all thanks to Satoru.

You can’t stop the words from slipping out, even though they’re laced with the bittersweet ache of everything that’s happened.

“Thank you,” you murmur, your eyes meeting his. “For everything.”

He smiles at you, that soft, understanding smile that always seems to reach his eyes.

“Of course. She’s a wonderful kid. It’s my pleasure.”

Leaning down, you gently scoop Haru into your arms, cradling her small body against you. She stirs slightly, her little face scrunching up in sleep, but she doesn’t wake, simply burrowing closer to you as you hold her, seeking the comfort of your warmth.

“I’ll put her to bed,” you murmur, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.

Satoru watches you with a fond smile, his eyes following you as you move towards the stairway.

“y/n,” he calls after you, his tone a little hesitant.

You turn back to face him, noticing the subtle way his expression has shifted—an unspoken concern lingering in his eyes.

“Yeah?”

“There’s something I need to tell you…” he begins, rubbing the back of his neck—a gesture you’ve come to recognize as his way of showing uncertainty. “It’s kind of short notice, but we were invited to a big charity gala tomorrow night. It’s a pretty important event, and they’re expecting us to attend. And, well… we’re anticipated to do an interview this time.”

Ah—the discomfort returns in an instant, like a cold shiver racing down your spine.

The weight of his words settles heavily on your shoulders, adding yet another layer of complexity to the tangled web you find yourself ensnared in.

The thought of standing in front of cameras, of answering questions about a relationship that is already so fraught with secrets and lies, sends your mind spiraling into a storm of anxiety.

But you can’t let any of that show. Not now.

Not when Satoru is looking at you with such sincerity, his blue eyes filled with a quiet expectation, clearly relying on you to be by his side through this.

You force a smile, hoping it doesn’t look as strained as it feels.

“Another gala, huh?”

He nods, his expression softening slightly, but the tension doesn’t leave his eyes.

“Yeah, this one’s for a good cause, and, well, appearances matter. It’s important that we present a united front.”

Appearances matter. A bitter reminder of Naoya’s taunting words.

Satoru is a Gojo after all—and for a Gojo, appearances are everything. The pristine image he maintains is not just for show; it’s a fundamental part of who he is, of the world he navigates with such ease.

But where does that leave you? What happens the moment you mess up?

You’ve always been terrible at public speaking, and now you’re expected to partake in an interview?

Will his soft expression turn cold the moment you fail to meet his expectations?

Your heart races, but you push the fear down, locking it away behind a carefully constructed mask of composure.

“Okay,” you swallow. “We’ll figure it out.”

Satoru’s expression softens with visible relief, and he stands up, stretching slightly after having sat in the same position for so long. As his arms extend above his head, the hem of his shirt lifts, revealing a fleeting glimpse of his toned abs.

“Thanks, y/n. I know this whole public thing isn’t easy, but… I really appreciate you doing this with me.”

“Of course,” you manage to say, forcing the words past the lump in your throat. “…we’re in this together, right?”

“Yeah. Together.”

The words feel like a betrayal, a dagger of guilt twisting in your chest.

How can you say that when you know what you’re hiding?

How can you say that when you doubt the very man in front of you?

Pushing those thoughts away, you try to focus on the moment, on Satoru’s gentle, almost boyish grin. Despite it all, it’s the kind of smile that makes you want to believe everything will be okay, that makes you want to cling to the hope that maybe, just maybe, you will get through this.

There is a beat of silence as you shift Haru’s weight slightly in your arms.

You study his face—the subtle vulnerability there, the softness, it makes you think—maybe, just maybe, you can open up to him. Test the waters, gauge his understanding.

Let’s start small… what if you told him your fear of public speaking?

The words hover on the tip of your tongue, a confession that feels both terrifying and necessary.

Would he laugh? Would he brush it off with one of his easy, confident smiles?

Or would he understand, see the anxiety that lies beneath the surface, and offer the reassurance you so desperately need?

Your heart races as you weigh the options, the fear of rejection battling with the desire for connection.

Finally, you take a deep breath, deciding to take the plunge. It’s a small step, but it feels monumental in the moment.

“I’m… I’m not really good with public speaking,” you admit quietly, your gaze lowering to the floor. “Maybe we could practice a little? Just so I don’t mess up.”

For a moment, there’s silence.

When you finally dare to look up, you see Satoru’s expression softening even further, a gentle warmth radiating from his eyes as he gazes at you.

The way he looks at you, so full of understanding, so free of judgment—it makes your chest tighten.

“Of course, we can. I actually prepared a script earlier today, just in case you may need it. We can go over it together after you put Haru to bed.”

You let out a small sigh, the tension in your shoulders easing slightly.

“Thank you, Satoru… that would really help.”

Why did you doubt him?

Did Naoya instill that doubt? Or has it always been there, lurking in the shadows of your mind, waiting for the right moment to surface?

The question lingers, a quiet whisper that carries both regret and self-reproach.

He had anticipated your need, had prepared for it without you even asking.

On one hand you feel relief that he’s so understanding, but guilt practically consumes it because now his trust feels like a weight you can’t bear.

It seems at this point, there is no winning for you.

No matter which way you turn, you’re trapped—caught between the desire to commit to him completely and the fear that you’ll inevitably fall short of his expectations.

Your mind is at a constant battle.

“No problem,” he says, his voice pulling you back to the present. He reaches for the remote, turning off the TV, the screen fading to black as the room is cast into a quieter, more intimate atmosphere.

He glances back at you, his expression warm but focused.

“Meet you in the study after you put Haru down?”

Not trusting yourself to speak, you nod, and turn, heading up the stairs towards Haru’s bedroom.

In the quiet of Haru’s room, you smooth the covers around her small, peaceful form and press a soft kiss on her forehead.

You take a moment to just sit there, watching her sleep—a moment to collect yourself before you return to Satoru.

The soft rise and fall of her chest, the slight twitch of her fingers as she dreams, it all serves as a reminder of the innocence you’re trying so desperately to protect.

You can’t risk losing her. Haru is everything to you.

But how long can you maintain this lie, this pretense that everything is okay, when the truth threatens to tear it all apart?

The mere thought of Haru being taken away, of Naoya sinking his claws into her life, makes your blood run cold.

Right now, you want nothing more than to break down, to cry, to let the tears that have been welling up inside you finally fall.

But you can’t afford to do that. Not now.

Sometimes the difficult thing about being a parent is putting on a front that everything is okay... that everything will be okay, even when it feels like it will not be.

You have to be strong, not just for yourself, but for Haru. She needs you to be her rock, her anchor in the storm, even if you feel like you’re barely holding on.

You pull back, your hand lingering on the edge of her bed for just a moment longer, savoring the last bit of peace before you straighten up, steeling yourself for the next challenge that you must face.

ꨄ

As you enter the study, the door closes behind you with a soft click.

Satoru looks up, sitting at the large mahogany desk, papers spread out in front of him as he offers you a small, reassuring smile. He gestures to the chair beside him.

“Ready?”

You nod, pulling out the chair and sitting down, the leather cushion sinking slightly under your weight.

Leaning forward, Satoru props his elbow on the table as he studies you with soft, focused eyes.

“So, let’s start with the basics. They’ll probably ask how we met, what drew us together... you know, easy stuff.”

He slides the script over to you.

You take the paper, your eyes skimming over the questions—questions that are so casual on the surface.

They’re questions that, for most couples, would evoke warm memories and easy smiles. But the simplicity of these questions only highlights the complexity of the situation.

They should feel easy to answer—answers that would roll off the tongue naturally if your relationship was carved from normal circumstances.

But, that’s not the situation you find yourself in.

The reality of your arrangement makes each question feel like a test—a hurdle you need to clear without revealing too much.

If only it were different—if only the answers could come from a place of truth rather than a carefully constructed narrative.

But it’s not.

This relationship is a contract, a charade—a web of lies.

You nod again, the knot in your stomach tightening.

“Alright,” Satoru says, his tone encouraging. “Let’s give it a go. I’ll ask, you answer.”

He clears his throat and starts with the first question.

“So, y/n, how did you and Satoru first meet?”

You take a deep breath, the familiar answer already on the tip of your tongue.

This one is easy because it’s part of the story you’ve both been telling from the beginning. Still, your fingers fidget with the corner of the script, as if grounding yourself in the words.

“I was looking for a new job, and Satoru needed someone with my expertise. It was professional at first, but we just… clicked. Like it was meant to be.”

“Perfect,” he says, tone approving.

He leans forward slightly, resting his chin on his hand as he raises an eyebrow at you.

“Now…what drew you to each other?”

You hesitate, your gaze dropping to the script in your hands. The paper crinkles slightly under your fingers as you try to commit the answer to memory, but the words feel heavy, loaded with the pressure to say the right thing.

Satoru notices your pause and tilts his head, a gentle smile lingering on his lips.

“I was thinking we keep it simple,” he suggests, his eyes locking onto yours with a reassuring calm. “I’ll talk about how I admire how you always put Haru first. People eat that stuff up.”

“Right,” you nod, your voice a little lighter now. “Then how about I talk about how you’re always so supportive and how you’ve made Haru and me feel safe.”

Satoru’s grin broadens, the corners of his mouth curling into a familiar, playful expression. He lets out a contemplative hum, as if considering your words carefully, and then reaches over to tap the tip of your nose playfully.

The touch is light, almost teasing, but it carries with it a sense of warmth, of genuine affection.

“And you can say something about how I’m the most charming, good-looking guy you’ve ever met.”

A soft laugh escapes your lips, the sound carrying with it a sense of relief you hadn’t realized you needed—like exhaling a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

Your heaviness lifts, replaced by a lightness that feels almost foreign in the midst of all the pressure.

Satoru always seems to know how to break through your tension.

It’s one of the things you’ve come to appreciate about him during this arrangement—the way he can make you laugh, even when everything else feels like it’s falling apart.

“Of course, because modesty is your best trait,” you grin, and without thinking, you poke his side gently, eliciting a small chuckle from him. “If I say that, I’m certain it would only go straight to your head.”

“Hmm, what can I say? Confidence is key,” he grins, eyes twinkling with that mischievous spark you’ve come to recognize.

You lean back and fold your arms across your chest in a mock gesture of contemplation, your eyes narrowing slightly as you consider his words.

“Confidence? Or arrogance?” you retort, a smirk playing on your lips. “It’s a fine line, Satoru.”

He gasps dramatically, placing a hand over his heart as if you’ve struck a mortal blow.

“Arrogance? Me? I’m wounded, truly,” he declares, his voice dripping with exaggerated hurt, though the grin tugging at the corners of his mouth betrays the act.

“Right…I think I might have to bring you back down to earth,” your voice carries a note of a playful challenge.

“Glad to know I can count on you,” he replies, leaning back slightly as he comfortably puts his hands behind his neck in a relaxed confidence. “But let’s not forget—you’re the one who’s supposed to be singing my praises. Remember? Charming, good-looking…”

“And don’t forget humble,” you add, your voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Ah, yes, the humblest,” he agrees, nodding solemnly as if he’s just imparted some great wisdom.

But the solemnity only lasts a moment before he breaks into another grin, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

“I’ve always been known for my humility.”

You can’t help but laugh again, shaking your head in disbelief at his antics. This fleeting sense of normalcy was everything you needed. It almost makes you forget the storm of emotions raging inside you.

“Wow. At this point, I think your ego has its own zip code,” you quip, rolling your eyes.

He grins, but then, with a small, exaggerated sigh, he drops his head down onto the table, resting it on his folded arms as he pouts dramatically.

“Okay, okay, I’ll try to keep my ego in check,” he mumbles, his voice slightly muffled.

Here is a man who commands boardrooms and makes decisions that influence entire industries, pouting like a child in front of you.

It’s kind of cute, actually, that the powerful CEO can be this… unguarded, this silly, this human.

In these moments, all the layers he wears—of strength, of authority, of responsibility—seem to peel away, leaving behind just… Satoru.

After a moment, he lifts his head just enough to look at you, his eyes twinkling with a mischievous glint.

“You know… people tell me I’m charming and good-looking all the time, but… I think it’d feel different coming from you. I wouldn’t mind hearing it… just once.”

Your breath catches for a fleeting moment as you observe a glimpse of something in his eyes, something deeper than the usual teasing.

The way he says it, with that mix of playfulness and sincerity, makes your heart flutter in a way you’re not entirely prepared for.

Would it be so bad to indulge him?

“You’re… easy on the eyes,” you say, your voice softer, almost shy.

It’s not quite the grand compliment he was fishing for, but it’s enough to make him smile—the kind of smile that lights up his entire face, making it impossible not to smile back.

“Well, I’ll take that,” he murmurs, his voice low and warm, and for just a moment, everything else falls away.

But then, as if unable to resist, Satoru props his head up in the palm of his hand and leans in just a little closer, his smile turning slightly smug.

“You know, you could say it again if you really wanted to. I mean, I’m all ears.”

You raise an eyebrow, a grin tugging at your lips as you catch onto his game.

“Don’t push your luck, Satoru,” you warn, though your tone is more amused than serious. “Let’s get back to work.”

Satoru chuckles, leaning back with a mock surrender.

“Alright, alright. Back to work it is.”

The world outside fades away—the complications, the secrets, the uncertainty of what tomorrow holds—all of it dissolves into the background as you share this brief moment of connection with Satoru.

It’s as if time itself has slowed, allowing you to bask in the warmth of this exchange, to let the comfort of Satoru’s presence ease the weight of your worries.

But the moment can’t last forever.

The reality of your situation looms just beyond the edges of this moment, reminding you of the stakes, of the careful balance you’re trying to maintain.

After all, there’s still work to be done, and as much as you’d like to linger here, in this bubble of lightheartedness, you know you need to keep moving forward.

ꨄ

The hours slip by, and you go over each possible scenario, each potential curveball the interviewers might throw your way.

The script between you becomes both a shield and a lifeline, something to cling to as you navigate the complexities of everything.

Satoru’s voice is steady and reassuring as he guides you through your responses. When you stumble—when the nerves threaten to get the better of you—he’s there with gentle corrections.

His words never harsh or critical, but rather encouraging, help you find your footing again. And whenever he senses the tension rising—the anxiety creeping into your expression—he cracks a joke, designed to draw you back from the edge of your worry.

You find yourself leaning on him more than you expected, his confidence bolstering your own, his belief in you seeping into the cracks of your self-doubt, and with each passing hour, the fear that had settled in your chest begins to ease, replaced by a cautious optimism that maybe, just maybe, you’ll be able to pull this off.

After running through the script for what feels like the hundredth time, Satoru leans back in his chair—the soft smile tugging at his lips telling you that he’s genuinely pleased with your progress.

“I think you’re ready,” his voice is filled with a quiet confidence. “You’ve got this. Now, you should probably get some rest... it's getting late.”

His words are a welcome relief, washing over you like a balm after the tension of the evening. You nod, feeling the exhaustion from the long day finally catching up to you—all you can think about is the comfort of your bed.

But as you begin to stand, you notice that Satoru remains seated. His posture, which had been so relaxed just moments before, now seems slightly more tense as he appears to be focused on something distant, something you can’t quite place.

The shift is subtle, but it’s enough to give you pause.

“Aren’t you coming?” you ask mid-step, your voice tentative, a hint of concern creeping in.

Satoru looks up at your question, the distant look in his eyes fading as his focus returns to you. His expression softens, the edges of his smile returning, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“No,” he replies, tone gentle but firm. “I’ve got some other business I need to take care of. But don’t worry about it,” he adds quickly, as if sensing your concern. “You should get some rest. You’ve done more than enough for tonight.”

There’s something about the way he says it, the way he brushes off your concern so easily, that makes you hesitate.

Is there something he’s not telling you? Or perhaps, choosing to handle on his own?

There’s a slight droop of his shoulders and his fingers absently drum against the armrest of his chair—a silent rhythm betraying the thoughts running through his mind.

You want to push, to ask him what’s really going on, but something holds you back.

Maybe it’s the way his eyes seem to plead with you to let it go, to trust him when he says it’s nothing you need to worry about.

Or maybe it’s the exhaustion that’s finally settling into your bones, making it harder to think clearly, to muster the energy for another round of questions.

So, instead, you nod again, offering him a small, understanding smile.

“Alright. Just… don’t stay up too late, okay?”

He chuckles, the sound low and warm, and though it eases some of your worry, it doesn’t completely dispel it.

“I’ll try not to,” he promises, though you’re not entirely convinced. “Go on, get some sleep. I’ll be here if you need anything.”

Making your way down the hallway, the soft light of the bedroom is a welcoming beacon at the end.

The prospect of finally getting rest is almost too tempting to resist, but as you near the door, something tugs at you—a nagging feeling in the back of your mind that refuses to be ignored.

It’s not fair, you think to yourself—pausing just before the threshold of your bedroom.

Satoru stayed up late, helping you with the interview questions, guiding you through each potential challenge with patience and care...and now, he’s left alone to handle his own business needs while you get to sleep.

There was a weariness in his eyes that you hadn’t noticed before, a quiet weight that he seemed determined to hide from you.

Why is he shouldering the responsibility when you agreed you would lead Gojo Corporation together?

The thought gnaws at you, making it hard to turn away.

You sigh, torn between the exhaustion weighing you down and the guilt pushing you forward.

Finally, you decide it’s only right to offer your help, even if just to make sure he’s not taking on too much by himself—and so, with renewed determination, you turn on your heel and quietly make your way back down the hall.

As you approach the door to the study, you’re about to knock when you hear his voice, low and serious, coming from inside. You pause, your hand hovering just inches from the wood, and listen.

“No. That’s not an option. We can’t afford any negative press right now, especially with everything that’s happening.”

Satoru’s voice is firm, almost biting, a tone you’re not used to hearing from him. The usual warmth that so often laces his words is gone, stripped away and replaced by something colder, more calculating.

There’s a pause, and you can faintly hear the murmur of someone on the other end of the line, though their words are indistinct through the phone.

Whatever they’re saying seems to only harden Satoru’s resolve.

“I don’t care what it takes,” Satoru continues, his voice dropping lower, the words coming out with an icy sharpness that feels almost like a threat. “Take care of it. Make sure this stays under wraps. My image can’t take a hit like that, not now.”

Your heart skips a beat, an uneasy feeling creeping up your spine—the warmth of the moment you shared earlier evaporating in an instant.

He sounds different—distant, devoid of the tenderness you’ve come to know… cold.

The man who just hours ago was patient and supportive, who made you feel safe and cared for, now seems like someone else entirely—replaced with this man who seems to care more about maintaining an image than anything else.

Whatever the voice on the other end of the phone says next makes Satoru sigh, a tired, almost frustrated sound.

You inch closer to the door, your breath shallow as you strain to hear more, but his voice drops lower, slipping into a tone that’s more guarded, more secretive.

“Yes, I know it’s not ideal, but it’s necessary,” Satoru says, his words clipped, as if he’s weighing each one carefully before letting it fall. “We have to protect the Gojo name at all costs. And that includes… well, you know what it includes. Just handle it.”

You freeze, your heart pounding in your chest.

…what does that include? The vague words hang in the air and you feel a sharp stab of anxiety.

You feel a lump form in your throat as you back away from the door, the doubts you’d tried so hard to push aside earlier now crashing back with full force, overwhelming you.

What is he talking about? What could be so important that it needs to be kept under wraps at all costs?

Questions race through your mind, each one more unsettling than the last.

And what did he mean by “protecting the Gojo name”? Is that all this is to him—just a carefully crafted image that needs to be maintained, no matter the cost?

The thought stings, a sharp pain that cuts deeper the more you dwell on it.

You can’t help but wonder, as you stand there in the dimly lit hallway, if you’ll ever truly know where his priorities lie.

The man who once seemed so open, so transparent with you, now feels like a stranger—someone who might not be as trustworthy as you’d hoped.

Will he choose to protect you and Haru, or will he always put his image, his family name, first?

The doubt gnaws at you, growing with each passing second, until it feels like a weight you can barely carry.

You retreat further, your heart pounding in your chest, the sound of it almost drowning out the murmured conversation from the study.

The light at the end of the hallway seems so far away now, the warmth and safety you’d felt earlier slipping through your fingers like sand.

As you finally turn and make your way back to your bedroom, each step is heavier than the last—a shadow cast on everything you thought you knew.

The warmth of the bed offers you little comfort as you slip under the covers, and your mind replays the conversation over and over again.

As much as you want to believe in him, in the connection you share, the seeds of doubt have been planted.

You're uncertain if you're ready for what's to come—the interview, the public scrutiny, or the complicated feelings that have begun to tangle between you and Satoru.

But throughout all this uncertainty, there is one thing that is without a doubt evident.

You still have a decision to make.

poor y/n can't catch a break...girl is going through it. man i cannot tell you how much i enjoyed writing the coffee shop scene with naoya though, idk it was just so satisfying to write, i literally despise naoya so much lol. and satoru being so clueless with haru 🥲 he sat there for two hours 🤭 he's such a goof. anyways, i really hope you guys enjoyed this chapter and i hope you're ready for what's to come! thanks so much for reading 🥺 seriously, your comments make my day. much love 🫶🏻 → onto the next chapterꨄ

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gojonanami · 1 year ago

Text

[ last updated: 10/25/2024 ]

‧ ˚. PROFESSOR GETO SERIES ↳ Professor Suguru Geto is a renown ethics professor, and you're a straight A student whose GPA he's trying to ruin. You're more intent on making him see your brilliance -- but you get more than you bargained for, when the two of you learn about what you owe to each other.

‧ ˚. PROFESSOR GOJO SERIES↳ Professor Satoru Gojo had never failed at anything -- until his latest research project. That's why he had found himself at a weeklong conference, where he discovers the perfect distraction -- you. And he can't help but be drawn to you - even after he finds out that you're the one person he's trying to avoid most

‧ ˚. SATORU GOJO

seeing you tonight, its a bad idea right? | smut, fluff ↳ seeing your ex is always a bad idea, except when its satoru gojo.

bigger than the whole sky | angst, fluff, manga spoilers ↳ before his fight, you and satoru have an honest conversation about the future.

dessert before dinner | smut, fluff ↳ satoru can't wait to have you until you get back from the sister school event, so he plies you with sweet words until you agree to have dessert before dinner.

all's fair (in love and mergers) | long fic, smut, fluff, bffs to enemies to lovers ↳ you're not sure what's worse -- being an arranged marriage or being an arranged marriage with the person who used to be your best friend.

three's a crowd (ft. suguru geto) | long fic, au, smut, fluff ↳ professors satoru gojo and suguru geto rarely wanted the same thing at the same time -- that was until you.

bloodsucker | smut, dark ↳ you had avoided your ex for so long, only to run into him at a halloween party, and he's the same as ever but has his teeth always been that sharp?

got you | smut, dark ↳ satoru finally found you -- and he's not going to let you go this time.

is it over now | angst, fluff, smut ↳ suguru thinks the only way you'll leave him is if he lies to you about cheating on him - and it is. but turns out, you're not so easy to leave - for him and his best friend (ft. satoru gojo). "if you want, i can come inside?" | fluff, crack, domestic ↳ nobara spots gojo with a sorcerer she's never seen before and of course hijinks ensue (aka hearing gojo's english va (kaiji tang) say the above line in apothecary diaries and i lost my mind).

i wanna show you off | sugar daddy au, smut, fluff, slight angst ↳ when you accompany your friends to a bar rich men and women frequent, you catch the eye of a certain white-haired rich man, who is more than willing to spoil you

tastes sweeter on your lips | fluff ↳ on a rare day off, you decide to take care of the strongest sorcerer - with something very sweet.

the doctor is in | smut, fluff, au ↳ when you go to your annual check-up, you didn't think you'd be crushing on your doctor - or that he's conduct such an in-depth examination.

twenty-nine | fluff, angst, crack ↳ it's gojo's birthday, and he can't help but reflect on what birthdays have meant to him over the years, especially the year you decide you don't really want to do anything for his birthday (but it turns out you do).

sit in my lap | fluff, crack, domesticity ↳ you and satoru take your daughter to see santa at the mall, and satoru proves that he's just as much of a match for his daughter, as he is for you.

just a little longer | fluff, angst ↳ after geto defects, you find yourself on a roof of a building wondering where things went wrong - and you're not the only one.

sweet nothing | fluff, angst ↳ satoru always comes running home to your sweet nothings -- except this time.

lower your guard | fluff, smut, au, longfic ↳ after the gojo family receives threats to their lives, you're hired to protect the heir to the company, satoru gojo - you just didn't realize how charming the rich heir would be - and just how hard it would be to resist his advances. don't want any other shade of blue but you | fluff, smut, fake dating, longfic ↳ you can't help but say yes when your longtime crush asks you to be his fake girlfriend for a year to get the gojo clan to stop arranging marriage proposals for him. but little did you know, he would be doing both of you a favor. love means to say goodbye | multi-lives au, fluff, smut, angst, jjk manga spoilers ↳ "would we love each other in every life?" it's the question you asked satoru the night before his battle, and he replied that, of course you would. but did that promise create a curse -- or were you both always cursed to begin with when it came to love? yakuza fiance (ft. suguru geto) | smut, yakuza au, fluff, threesome ↳ you had no patience for the yakuza lifestyle your grandfather had -- you wanted to live a normal life, but when it leaks that your grandfather is in talks to have you engaged to one of two yakuza heirs -- you realize you're in deeper than you thought -- especially when they both fall in love with you.

a house is not a home | canon au, fluff, suggestive ↳ you come home after a long day of work unable to find the person you call home anywhere — until you reach the bedroom (househusband gojo).

just wanna fuck with you, just to make up with you! | smut, modern au, fluff ↳ satoru gojo is the man everyone wants, except you - he pushed you away after you had your daughter, you divorced him. so what happens when he comes to pick up your daughter for his weekend, and he finds you ready for a date?

rumor has it that my best friend loves you (and i do too!) | smut, actor au, fluff ↳ rumors swirl about a love triangle between you and your two heart throb co-stars on the set of jujutsu kaisen. except in this case, you and your two co-stars are happily dating. but what happens when you get casted in a movie where they want you to have a PR relationship with your co-star? especially when your bfs find out who it is

break my soul in two (but you're right here) | angst, manga spoilers ↳ satoru showed no concern for himself -- so you had to, even if no one else would.

beat the heat | smut, fluff ↳ it’s a heatwave in tokyo and who better to spend it with than satoru, who has an interesting idea of how to pass the time — fucking the heat away.

feral for you | fluff, smut, angst ↳ satoru gojo rarely loses his cool. except when it comes to you. so when you get taken, he takes matters into his own hands to find out who did it and make them pay.

yours to keep | childhood friends au, fluff, eventual smut, angst ↳ satoru gojo fell in love with you from the moment he met you at eight years old. and when he sees you again, he knows — he has to make you his.

the honored one | smut, manga spoilers, canon-divergent au ↳ it's your duty as the wife of the clan head to help your husband get dressed -- even for battle. but that didn't mean he couldn't spend some time undressing you.

‧ ˚. SUGURU GETO

meant to be | smut, dark ↳ when Suguru defects, he asks you to come with him -- but he's not going to take no for an answer.

three's a crowd (ft. satoru gojo) | long fic, au, smut, fluff ↳ professors satoru gojo and suguru geto rarely wanted the same thing at the same time -- that was until you.

is it over now (ft. satoru gojo) | angst, fluff, smut ↳ suguru thinks the only way you'll leave him is if he lies to you about cheating on him - and it is. but turns out, you're not so easy to leave -- for him and his best friend

might hurt | fluff, crack ↳ suguru's popularity is truly a curse, especially when he gets hit on right in front of you. luckily, you both know how to handle those situations.

i just want to fuck all night | smut, fluff, sex pollen ↳ after swallowing a curse, geto finds his body in an uncontrollable state of arousal, and who better help him cure it than you?

would it be enough if i could never give you peace? | fluff, angst, smut ↳ suguru's birthday spent with you is like a dream -- the perfect day spent in bliss, but what happens when the dream has to come to an end?

yakuza fiance (ft. satoru gojo) | smut, yakuza au, fluff, threesome ↳ you had no patience for the yakuza lifestyle your grandfather had -- you wanted to live a normal life, but when it leaks that your grandfather is in talks to have you engaged to one of two yakuza heirs -- you realize you're in deeper than you thought -- especially when they both fall in love with you.

‧ ˚. KENTO NANAMI

no regrets | hurt/comfort, fluff, angst ↳ when nanami is injured from his fight with mahito, you're sent to pick him up. and both of your careful avoidance of your feelings for each other comes crumbling down.

armed and dangerous | smut ↳ nanami's arms were always so nice around your throat, but you never tried having his arm between your legs before, until.

good girls get backshots | smut ↳ nanami has always been a gentleman, but he finally decides to play rough and mark you up -- at your request.

five times nanami wanted to propose but didn't | angst, fluff, smut ↳ nanami wanted to propose to you so many times - but it was never the right time, and then, there was no time left.

best part of my day | fluff, domesticity ↳ on a bad day, you give nanami just what he needs, and remind him why you are truly the best part of his day.

all the time in the world | fluff, hurt/comfort ↳ after shibuya, nanami lets you tend to his burns and have an honest discussion about what happened there and what it means for your future. but i'm a fire (and i'll keep your brittle heart warm) | fluff, hurt/comfort, smut, au ↳ throughout your years of jujutsu tech, you take care of kento, whether its a wound from a curse or a simple cut his finger -- and when he returns he finds you still ready to take care of him -- even after shibuya.

‧ ˚. YUTA OKKOTSU

↳ coming soon :)

‧ ˚. CHOSO KAMO

it's a need | hurt/comfort, smut, fluff ↳ after you take an attack meant for him, choso can't seem to understand why -- so you show him just how important he is to you.

hey emo boy! | fluff, smut, au ↳ saw this boy at the mall last week. got the kind of look to make me freak. wanna fuck in the back of the hot topic?

best friend's brother is the one for me! | fluff, au, smut, bedsharing ↳ you've been asked whether you and yuji are together a million times - but the truth is his brother is more your type -- so what happens when you end up sharing a bed one night?

just one more bite! | fluff, modern au, smut, vampire au ↳ choso kamo is your coworker who seems to hate your guts - even though you're both always stuck working together, but the only reason he does is because he wants nothing more than to eat you up -- blood and all.

‧ ˚. RYOMEN SUKUNA

paint the town red | smut, dark, au ↳ you've always been a goody two shoes -- or so your friends say -- so what happens when you decide to do the first bad thing you've ever attempted and try summoning a demon -- and it actually works?

the girl next door | smut, age gap, modern au ↳ you had grown up next door to the itadoris, but you never had met their uncle. and for good reason, he had spent the majority of his life in and out of jail. but now he was finally out, and he only had one goal in mind -- getting you in his bed.

‧ ˚. YUJI ITADORI

don't want you like a best friend! | best friends to lovers, fluff, fwb, smut, au ↳ yuji itadori has been your best friend since you were kids, and when he offers you to teach you how to fuck, you don't expect him to be able to find his way into your heart too.