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selfishdoll · 1 year ago

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NOW PLAYING…. TOUCH

Just back into it, and let it touch

JJK MEN & THEIR REACTIONS TO YOU USING THEIR CROTCH TO SHOW OFF YOUR NAILS

ft. kashimo hajime, gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento, & takuma ino.

cw: modern au (?), suggestive content (ofc) ooc characters(?), reader being a little shit, etc.

i’ve always found this tiktok trend adorable, and thought it would be nice to write hcs on with them. these are unedited so excuse typos and other mistakes. i might do more later.

KASHIMO HAJIME.

the nail designs you chose were cute, but a little cheesy. a simple cyan base with purple lighting bolts on each ring finger.

you came back from the shop to spot kashimo resting on your couch, clearly tired from either fighting a curse or general working out. you tapped him, showcasing your nails the moment you got his attention. hajime would only give you a small smirk, leaning his head back again to rest.

the idea would then pop into your head, softly declaring you needed to take a picture to show your friend. he didn’t care enough to respond.

but, that quickly changed when you sat beside him, resting your hand right on his crotch.

what are you doing?

you shushed him a bit, declaring his white pants were a perfect background. a plausible excuse, one that he believed less and less when he realized you were massaging him through his pants.

he allowed it to go on for a moment before he snatched your wrist, pulling you closer to him.

don’t start something you can’t finish, [y/n].

and well, you spent the rest of that evening facing the consequences of your actions. you never did send that picture.

GOJO SATORU.

probably asked you to get his tip color. you refused, much to his dismay.

you settled on a pretty blue and white design, curtesy of his eyes and hair. you sent a picture of it to him while in the shop; your lover hearting the image instantly.

on the way home, you were scrolling through your tiktok feed and came across the trend. a cheshire like grin covered your features soon after.

making it home, gojo wasn’t busy with anything, simply sitting on the couch and watching some random show. he greeted you and attempted to get touchy, only for you to declare you had to take a picture of your nails first.

just use the one you sent me?

no, baby, i wanna use a different one.

although confused, the man shrugged a bit, focus turning back to the tv. you sat on the couch beside him, humming as your phone hovered above your hand that rested on your thigh. taking a quick glance to assure he wasn’t looking, you reached over, placing your hand right on his crotch.

gojo noticed you instantly, eyes falling from the tv screen and over to your hand, eyebrows pinched close. he said nothing however, simply watching you closely. the moment you began to rub him, however, he was adjusting his hips eyes lifting to yours, adoring an are you serious? expression.

what’s wrong? you tried to play dumb, all while your hand still moved, not so secretly anymore. gojo would only grin at you, pretty dimples exposed, turning back to the tv.

nothing.

in that moment his hand reached over to your bare thigh, gently tapping it; fingers stroking the inside of them.

this had now became a game of who would crack first.

and much to your dismay, you always did.

GETO SUGURU.

your choice of design was a black base with his initials on each ring finger. when sending a picture to the man he complimented them, and was clearly happy his name was on your fingers.

you had been planning to do the trend on him the moment you saw it, booking an appointment the next day. you just wanted to see his reaction, to see if your normally calm and collected boyfriend would react differently.

you were basically rushing into the house the moment you locked your car, entering to spot him on the couch reading a book. you two greeted each other with a soft kiss the moment you walked over.

you really like my nails, suguru?

mhm.

lemme show gojo. you hummed, pulling your phone from your pocket. you bit the inside of your cheek, reaching over and planting your hand right on his crotch. you felt his eyes on you for a moment before they drifted back to his book. which, frustrated you.

and so, you adjusted your hand, a false mumble of needing a better angle exiting you. except the adjusting didn’t stop, seeing as you began to gradually rub your palm up and down his crotch.

you jumped a bit as he shut his book closed, grabbing your wrist and pushing it against his hardening length even more.

now, you deal with it? understand?

NANAMI KENTO.

much to nanami’s embarrassment, you used his tip color. he tried to talk you out of it, but it happened. how they color matched it was above him. and why you did such a thing was above him as well. but, he did have to admit the nails were still pretty.

when you got home the man was busy with some paperwork at his desk, grumbling to himself every once in a while. you walked over with a gentle smile, watching his tense shoulders fall the moment you made your presence known.

you then showed off your nails, nanami simply shaking his head with a smile.

you got a bit needy the moment his eyes turned back to his desk however, biting the inside of your cheek before a brilliant idea popped into your mind. you find a chair beside his desk, scooting a bit close to his own. which wasn’t suspicious, you did that often.

what was suspicious was you reaching over, placing your hand onto his crotch.

[y/n]…

just trynna get a good picture. your pants are the perfect color. the excuse left you quickly, hearing the man sigh softly to himself but allowing your hand to remain there.

that was until, you began to carefully slide your hand up and down his crotch— back and forth. nanami didn’t left it go on for long before he was grabbing you by the forearm, pulling you up from your chair and over to his lap.

oh, ken, your paperwork..

that can wait. can’t ignore you when you’re being so damn needy..

TAKUMA INO.

to ino’s surprise, you somehow got your nail lady to carefully draw his masked face on your ring finger. the moment you sent the picture he was amazed and very happy. something you found adorable.

so of course you decided to toy with him.

coming home you spotted the man not really doing anything, simply resting on the couch. he smiled up at you, eyes following you as you walked over to sit beside him. his arm came to wrap around you, the two of you sitting in silence for a moment; simply watching tv.

until you swore softly, pulling your phone from your pocket. gotta take a picture for a friend.. you would mumble, something ino barely acknowledged.

the moment your hand was on his crotch, however, his eyes fell from the tv quickly, staring down at your hand.

uh, y/n…

sorry baby, just gotta use your pants. you claimed, the man muttering nervous ok, going completely still— clearly not wanting to mess up your photo. you smiled at this, nearly feeling bad for what you were about to do to him.

slowly you carried your palm up and down his crotch, feeling the hand on your hip twitch. continuing the facade, you tilted your phone every so often, attempting to find the correct position; all while poor ino attempted to calm his rising hard on. he tried so hard too.

just as you felt his hard length through his sweats, you snapped a photo, rising from the couch— placing a chaste kiss to his cheek on the way.

thanks baby, imma take a quick shower.

needless to say, ino was a bit confused and disappointed, only able to give you a small nod— watching you walk away. ignorant to the fact you were holding in your laughter.

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konigbabe · 1 year ago

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steal the thunder - I -

Pairing: Hajime Kashimo x fem!sorcerer!reader Word count: 5.8k Tags/warnings: no y/n; unhinged reader; manga spoilers (Culling Games + Perfect Preparation arcs); fight description; canon-typical violence; there will be eventual smut in the later parts fyi Summary: There's murder in the air – with the Culling Games underway, a simple task of finding an angel turns to a fight for life when you meet a certain, static and 400 years old sorcerer with cyan hair and wicked intentions.

Artwork by poro (poro06625649) on Twittter [source]; divider by @skylightlantern [source] For a better understanding of the reader's CE and CT, visit this Tumblr post.

masterlist • navigation • faq • AO3 • ko-fi

There's murder in the air – an unsettling undertone that pollutes the atmosphere. Gentle breeze carrying the metallic fragrance of blood within its currents.

The dockside keeps quiet. Sky clear, devoid of seagull calls. Walking by colossal steel shipping containers, stacked high, the scent persists. Clings to the air like a persistent specter. Each step accompanied by the gentle lap of waves against the pilings, their rhythmic cadence a stark contrast to the horrors you've seen.A soothing lullaby in the midst of chaos.

The maze-like layout of the quayside comes to an end when your muscles strain, lifting off the ground and landing atop the steel structure.

A giant panda comes into view. Its relaxed posture, perched on hindlimbs, contrasts with its impassive countenance as it gazes your way.

"Panda," you address what some might believe to be an actual animal; innocent, cute and completely harmless. Except for this Cursed Corpse – your subordinate – is none of those things.

He fixes you with your very name; a disturbing familiarity in his eyes, then the words escape his lips.

"The smell of blood's so thick," he voices as you draw near, words cutting through the tension. "There must be about three people dismembered here–"

You hold up two fingers, the other hand nestled in your pocket.

"Two actually," you intervene, voice a measured interruption, "walked past a man with a hole the size of a soccer ball in his chest."

The memory resurfaces – the sight of the man, head drooping, neck bent at an unnatural angle. Eerie web-like burns sprawled across his bare flesh. The smell of singed skin and ozone hangs in the air, a pungent reminder. Yet, it's not just that which jolts your senses. It's the residual static of someone's cursed energy, an unsettling presence that lingers.

"But that's not what troubles me," continuing, you stand next to Panda, arms now crossed as both of you watch the lifeless skies, "something bad's here. I tried following the remnants of the cursed energy of the perpetrator but it was very faint."

"Could be an expert who can turn their cursed energy on and off at will…" Panda thinks out loud.

You let the idea sit for a second. Could it be the case? Could someone in this colony be capable of doing it? Known, registered sorcerers are absent here. The majority are newly awakened, scarcely equipped to comprehend a sophisticated notion like this. And why would they feel the need to hide their cursed energy?

No.

Dismissing your doubts, you shake your head and stride toward the edge of the shipping container.

"Don't think so. Nevertheless, we're here to find that angel girl and negotiate with her." Stepping onto the container's edge, unfazed by the high drop; balancing skillfully, you extend one leg over the edge, about to step into empty space. In a seamless motion, you touch down on the solid concrete ground below.

Panda follows suit, rolling off the shipping container with agility, landing right beside you. Then he stands, an odd combination of human-like stance and panda appearance, more akin to a person in a panda costume than an actual animal.

"Our safest bet is to leave the docks. Fast. Just play pretend, avoid any unnecessary conflicts and make it out of this colony in one piec–"

The sentence's left hanging as a sudden shift in the atmosphere catches your attention. Panda falls on all fours, frozen still.

"Ah," a deeper, resonant voice rumbles from your right, the words echoing as the familiar sensation washes over you. A sudden buzz inside your mind, an abrupt surge of awareness regarding another sorcerer's presence. Heart mirroring the rapid flutter of a startled bird's wings.

Their cursed energy, concealed and latent, manages to evoke an almost primal response within you. A sense of fight or flight.

You pivot to face the uninvited presence before you.

A cascade of hair, vivid as a robin's egg and kissed by the hues of a clear summer sky, is gathered into twin buns atop his head while tendrils of untamed locks dance freely in the breeze, resembling a stormy sea. Longer bangs frame the contours of his face, softening his visage.

He stops when his eyes – the same uncanny shade as his hair – bore into yours. Carrying what you'd guess is a Nyoi staff slung over his shoulder, he stands at a slight angle. Excludes casual confidence, a sense of poised readiness.

"Another one," he breaks the silence. You stand your ground in response to his observation.

"Not interested in a fight," you remark, hands risen in a defensive gesture. Yet you don't dare take your eyes off the sorcerer. Ready and composed.

Panda, ostensibly cautious, inches closer to you, fur bristling in sync with his unease towards the newcomer's presence. The air tightens, charged with the unspoken potential for violence.

"Kogane," he calls out to the shikigami, summoning it like a wisp from the aether; the small creature materializes, its hue the shade of a serene lake, light and amicable as it floats near his head, "is the panda a player too?"

The shikigami screeches its answer, its words setting everything in motion.

"Indeed!! A player! Yep!!"

"That's a function," your pondering voice meets a forced silence. The state of perturbed ambiance vanishing as your thoughts are cut off.

A flesh of white. Empty space occupies the spot where the sorcerer was standing less than a second ago.

You sense his presence before your eyes even settle on his countenance; his eyes, framed with short zig-zag lines reminiscent of lightning bolts underneath them, a furious cauldron of murderous excitement as they lock onto yours. They widen with a manic intensity. An undertone of madness lurking deep within their depths.

A predator's gaze fixated on its prey.

In a heart-stopping moment, time stands still. The world around you fades into a blur as a primal instinct takes over. Your body reacts; a precision born of pure reflex – muscles coiled like springs, you counter his attack with a swift and calculated movement.

His volatile energy crackles in the air. Your hands snap up. Fingers attempting to curl around his bandaged forearm. Channeling your cursed energy to your clavicles, the place where his palm lays flat against you –

But your reactions prove inadequate. You're too slow. A shocking speed and heavy push; a surge of force is sent through your body, catching you off-guard. The ground beneath you becomes a temporary adversary. Your balance disrupted as you're sent flying backward.

Back colliding with the hard, metal steel of a shipping container – you watch in horror as the sorcerer mercilessly attacks Panda. Using his staff as a weapon. With unnatural speed and agility, Panda struggles against him; his valiant resistance a testament to his determination, his form a blur of motion as he evades the sorcerer's attacks and manages a few good blows of his own.

Your body feels light. A tingling sensation surging through your veins. Electric current's rushing beneath your skin, setting your pulse racing and your focus to a razor's edge. The metallic taste of blood floods your mouth. Mingles with the adrenaline in your body. Every nerve firing in response to the raw energy pulsing through your body.

It hits you then–

"Heh, electricity," you mumble, the word slipping from your lips as you raise your palms, clenching your fists. Feeling the tingling in the tips of your fingers. The slight buzzing in your ears.

–his cursed energy has a special trait. One certainly hard to defend against.

Barely seconds have passed since your body was forced to rest against the ground. It still feels too long with Panda barely matching the man's speed and force.

Gritting your teeth, the urgency of the situation anchors you, overriding any pain or disorientation as you fight to regain your footing. A sense of pride fills you when you watch Panda use his technique, striking the sorcerer with enough force that'll easily knock him out cold. One of Panda's winning moves.

Except it doesn't.

"Nice one," the man's voice rings out. A taut smirk playing at the corner of his lips. Your teeth clench, disbelief intertwining with unease as you watch. With a predominated precision, the sorcerer maneuvers his staff, entwining it with Panda's arm in a smooth motion that catches you off guard.

Exerting a forceful pull, he forces a grimace from Panda. Right arm caught in the vice-like grip, a sickening crack underscores the moment. Followed by the nauseating sensation of Panda's arm being torn from his body. Violently. And mercilessly.

Panda stumbles. Pain and agony escaping in a cry. The sorcerer doesn't waste a second. Hurls the arm back at Panda, using the momentum to charge forward. Palm aiming flat against his chest, he sends Panda flying backward – the same way he did to you. Causing your junior to experience a similar sensation to yours.

The cyan-haired man straightens, seemingly relaxing, already content with winning the fight.

"But I'm not impressed," he taunts, words an ominous echo of the violence just unleashed, "It's too ordinary."

Feeling the concrete beneath your feet, you take deliberate steps forward. With an inkling of Panda's potential strategy, you expel the pooled blood from your mouth, spitting it onto the ground.

"...Sukuna, you know where he is?" The man's words flow, attention diverted, ignorant of your presence.

A fortunate circumstance.

"No clue," Panda responds. His reply burdened with weariness and defeat; yet his gaze remained fixed on you, a silent exchange of understanding passing between you as you position yourself, tension radiating from his weary form.

The sorcerer scoffs; a contemptuous tilt of his head, a gesture laden with superiority. "Sounds like you know something, then," he snarls, his grip on the staff constricting as his fist clenches, "Spit it out. I'll be merciful."

With the sorcerer's back turned you raise your arm. Your gaze remains fixed upon the convergence point of the two delicate lines, their path crossing at the very heart of the expanse that's the upper part of his broad back.

"I won't be," you declare; voice carrying a firm tone. A deft flick of your wrist – the current of cursed energy takes the desired shape before it's hurled toward your target. Slashing the air in front of you, aimed right at him.

His gaze veers to the side. And in a fraction of a heartbeat, he moves; executing a skillful sidestep. Body positioned to face you from the side, both hands now gripping his staff, aiming it at you; a glint of fervor ignites his eyes as they widen, locked onto the shipping container stationed behind Panda. The unforgiving force of your attack rends the shipping container apart, leaving two gaping slashes that could bisect a man.

You don't give him time to react properly.

The moment blood begins to stain his white robe crimson red from the nick on his shoulder, you lunge forward. Like a bull being waved a red flag. Feet imbued with your cursed energy, reinforced to ensure protection.

As you close the distance at a breakneck pace, you sense the distinct composition of his cursed energy. With your fingers curled around the staff, your eyes meet his, a faint grin playing at the corners of your mouth as you tug on his weapon with your full body weight. Lifting your legs off the ground, you use the staff as a fulcrum. His body feels resilient, akin to forged steel, against the soles of your shoes.

With the potency of your cursed technique coursing through your strike, the man is propelled backward, his body hurtling through the air. The Nyoi staff clings to the concrete. Left untouched upon the impact.

Flying through a shipping container, he quickly finds his footing. Stance shifting in response to your aerial maneuver. Legs splayed to establish a firm foundation, you focus your intent on targeting his jaw. Fists charged with cursed energy, you hit once; knowing how troublesome the push-and-pull effect of your technique feels once your flesh makes contact–

"Not bad," he manages to spit out, the corner of his lip stained red. A smile tugs at the corner of his lip as you sprint toward him.

The surroundings blur into a muddled backdrop, irrelevant in your unwavering concentration. The sorcerer becomes the sole axis, a focal point in a world that seems to slow to a crawl, even though only a fraction of a second has passed.

The tip of your foot touches his; a mere whisper of contact between two opposing forces.

"Not bad at all."

–he counterattacks. Hand darts forward. Grabs your wrist. With an economy of motion, he employs your own momentum against you. His grip becomes a pivot, briefly throwing you off-balance, diverting your forward surge into an unexpected spiral.

Fluidity. That's how you'd characterize his movements. A seamless transition from being a passive target to an active agent.

His chest brushes against your back as his right hand remains locked around your right wrist. Single-handedly swinging your body like a marionette, you exploit the vulnerability of your position. Using his grip as leverage to move backward, simultaneously grabbing hold of his bandaged left forearm and pulling. Crashing your body into his, redirecting the movement into a collision.

With a potent surge of intention, you force the prepared rejection and attraction effect within your clenched fist, propelling it like a bolt toward the rear of your skull. Teeth gritted, you throw your head back.

Crack.

He stifles a groan, a step taken back but footing resolute. A red trail paints his nose as you swivel to confront him. Pausing briefly to charge your energy again, you grant him a moment to speak. His expression freezes as he locks eyes with you

"You," he speaks up, his voice textured with the tang of iron as his tongue grazes his lips, "Have we met before?"

With your hand still tingling, the ripples of sensation spread up your arm, an electric current tracing a pattern beneath your skin. Your head sways subtly, dispelling the notion of a previous encounter. "Unlikely. You'd be history."

A chuckle dances from his lips, a response to your retort. "What's your name then?"

You share it deliberately, each syllable a measured beat in your dance around one another. He nods, his head tilting with self-assured grace. It's then that he takes his stance – feet planted firmly, palms outstretched, a grin playing on his lips.

"The name's Hajime Kashimo."

The words hang, a telltale echo–

Hajime Kashimo.

–recognition snaps into place when you repeat his name in your mind.

The Hajime Kashimo, the sorcerer whose score reaches a hundred points; a mark that sets him apart from any other Culling game player (except for the intricate Hiromi Higuruma). Hakari's elusive target.

And here, right before you, stands the man himself.

"Hey," you call out, a new determination blossoming, your stance embracing the challenge; retreat is no longer a consideration, "if I beat you, can I get your points?"

The corners of Kashimo's lips twitch, smile fading like a wisp of smoke carried away by the wind. Expression blank, with only his brows furrowed as he responds, "Sure, but you tell me everything y'know about Sukuna," his voice lowered to a dangerous undertone, a velvet threat veiled in words, "that is–if you're still alive."

He charges then. Doesn't spare a single consideration. The air crackles with tension as his presence engulfs you. His hands make contact – not with fists or strikes – but with the calculated pressure of his open palms. You feel the weight of his touch on your skin. Pressure on your left, then on your right ribcage.

"Don't disappoint me now," breath tickles your ear, voice a tantalizing, dangerous melody. His fingers anchor firmly onto your right shoulder, an assertive grip that both commands and unsettles, while his other hand exerts a calculated force on your left shoulder guard, propelling you into a spin.

Your training surges forth, a symphony of muscle memory and instinct harmonizing within you. With the resilience born of countless battles, you swiftly adapt your stance, shifting your weight to face him.

An annoyed huff leaves your now-bruised lips. You channel your own cursed energy, a torrent of power surging through your veins.

Detain an attack when it comes,–

Knees bending, body swaying to evade the incoming fist; your left hand grips his left wrist, fingers tightening with determination, followed by your right driving into its intended mark.

–and send it away when it retreats.

Your palm meets the solid plane of his chest with a resonant thud; pushes and then pulls him back to you before sending him away again; successfully pushing back against Kashimo's pressure. It's a momentary reprieve. One that sends the sorcerer tumbling back, makes him roll on the ground, lending on one knee.

"Here I thought we were just getting started," you quip with a hint of playfulness amidst the dance of combat. Moving swiftly towards the target. As Kashimo's force ebbs, you seize the opportunity, your muscles coiling like springs.

"You're getting me–" he barely makes it back to his feet before you're at him again. With enough cursed energy imbued into your foot, utilizing the momentum of your motion, leg rising up in a calculated kick – only for Kashimo to shift; a fraction of movement that proves decisive. His arm weaves beneath the arc of your thigh, a sinuous and serpentine maneuver that seeks to entwine and subdue. As his grasp tightens, his fingers snake around your throat, lifting you from the ground, suspending you momentarily.

"–quite excited," he concludes, his voice tinged with an eerie excitement.

Once the hand is freed from contact,–

A heartbeat's pause feels like an eternity. With your legs rendered weightless and no stable ground beneath you. Despite the vulnerable position, your mind remains steadfast, honing in on Kashimo's Achilles heel. His hands are preoccupied, his grasp unwavering but his neck and face exposed.

–carry out a strike with it.

Seizing the opportunity, you make the most of the opening. Your palms press against the sharp contours of his cheeks, each hand finding its place on one side of his face. In one swift and deliberate motion, you channel the wellspring of cursed energy that resides within you into your technique. The currents of your energy converge between your palms, weaving a tapestry of arcane force that manifests as a palpable vacuum, centered precisely where his head rests.

It's an intentional manipulation. One – if done right, that is – could even lead to a cataclysmic implosion. A violent severing of life from the body. But you don't want to kill him; not yet at least. You need the points. And so, you temper your approach, exerting only the necessary amount of energy to induce a sensation of compression.

As the feeling envelops him, Kashimo's expression shifts, a flicker of realization that dances within his eyes. He instinctively withdraws. Bandaged forearms push at your body, sending you hurtling backward; a testament to his strength and strategic finesse.

"You cheeky little thing," a bead of blood traces a path from the corner of his eye. At the same time, another droplet emerges from his nose.

This time it's him who doesn't let you regain enough control as he charges at you. His approach swift and unrelenting. The tables are constantly turning – now being his time to dictate the tempo.

Another dance of offense and defense plays out as the two of you clash once again. Each move a deliberate response to the other's actions.

Chase the movement of the opponent–

As the flurry of his strikes slices through the air, you find yourself navigating the ebb and flow with a synchronicity that borders on the sublime. With a hawk-like focus, you track the trajectory of his hand, your senses attuned to his every motion.

While his hits continue to swing through both empty space and meeting your body, a fleeting opportunity presents itself. With the precision of a seasoned sorcerer, you follow the path of his hand with your own, fingers closing around his forearm as it narrowly misses your cheekbone, the other digging into the open slash wound on his shoulder.

–to continue the attack.

It earns you a hiss. A "Tsk," coming from his damaged lips.

One fluid motion; one that belies your strength. You capitalize on the momentum of his own swing, utilizing your grip to exert control. Your foot surges forward with unbridled force, the sole of your shoe connecting with the vulnerable juncture of his knee.

Kashimo's reflexes kick in as he instinctively leaps back the moment your foot makes contact with his leg. His visage bears the marks of battle, a canvas adorned with streaks of red, the vestiges of blood from the prior exchange. A mirror to his appearance, your own face likely reflects a similar narrative. Marked by the intensity of the confrontation. By his pure, physical prowess. One that, even if you use all your cursed energy, you're certain you couldn't match.

The shadows of weariness begin to cast their subtle touch on you. A weight that tempers your movements and shadows the clarity of your thoughts. Each calculated step, each strategic strike, seems to bear an additional burden now.

Still, resolute, your unwavering determination fixated on Kashimo, persevering in the face of creeping exhaustion.

Then you take off.

With a surge of action, you propel yourself into motion. Pivoting on your heel, you sprint toward the towering container crane a mere few meters behind. Kashimo's quick thinking registers in the corner of your vision—a flash of white on your right, drawing nearer.

"Running so soon?"

His taunting words reach you.

"Just limbering up," you reply. Muscles tensing, you feel his energy almost brushing against your own. So, with a leap, you vault into the air. Fingers curling around your ankle.

Time seems to slow as Kashimo's grip tightens around your ankle, his fingers like a vice attempting to anchor you to the ground. The world spins around you, the crane's towering structure becoming a blur as your body is abruptly yanked back, denied the freedom of flight.

Instinct kicks in, your mind racing to find a solution. With a swift twist of your body, you channel the energy within, your cursed power surging to your fingertips. A burst of force courses through your arm, the concentrated energy propelling your free leg forward in a powerful kick. Your heel connects with Kashimo's face, the impact forcing his grip to release.

In the split second of regained freedom, your body soars toward the container crane.

Muscles strained, you manage to grab hold of a protruding metal edge, fingers gripping with an iron determination. The harsh clang of metal meeting metal reverberates through the air as your body comes to a halt, swinging slightly from the momentum before you propel yourself higher onto the structure.

A smirk tugs at the corners of your lips. The distance between you and Kashimo now a tangible reminder of your evasion. His frustrated gaze meets yours, the tension between you electric and palpable.

"Nice try," you retort, voice laced with a mixture of weariness and defiance. There's an undeniable satisfaction in defying his grasp, in proving your prowess even amid exhaustion. Without wasting a moment longer, you hoist yourself up more, using the crane's structure to propel your body upward. Your form melds with the steel as you ascend, a maneuver to gain the vantage point.

Gotta limit his movement to the minimum.

Kashimo's expression shifts, a glint of admiration piercing through his irritation. "Impressive," he concedes, the words carrying an unexpected note of respect, "but you can't run from me."

He follows your lead. The two of you ascending the crane in a synchronized rhythm

"I told you, Kashimo–," you declare, your voice echoing between the steel beams as you reach the crane's zenith, standing face to face on the narrowest edge.

Now standing face to face on the crane's uppermost beam, the narrow back reach providing only small support. Your breath heaves, each inhalation a reminder of the intense exertion. Across from you, Kashimo's gaze remains fixed upon you, his expression deceptively relaxed.

"–that I'm only stretching."

His eyes, however, tell a different story – a depth of focus that cuts through your form. Anchoring onto you with an unwavering intensity.

A mournful melody weaves through the metal lattice, the wind's haunting whistle creating an eerie harmony with the tension in the air. The gusts playfully tousle both your hair in the process. You steady yourself into a stance, your body a testament to both resilience and purpose.

"Plus I want those points," you remark, a hint of determination coloring your words.

It's then that you charge — cursed energy flowing through your body like currents of compressed emptiness. A void. Unyielding. Relentless. And pneumatic.

With a flick of your wrist, you send it slicing through the air. A blade of nothing. A thin line etches across his chest, traversing from ribcage to his already wounded shoulder — a mark of your earlier endeavor. Nowhere to dodge now that he's standing between two metal beams.

Or so you thought.

Kashimo charges. The white of his robe tainted with scarlet. The cut isn't deep.

He must've reinforced his cursed energy.

"Tsk," you utter. A flicker of irritation crosses your features. Agitated. With waning stamina, the dwindling reservoir of cursed energy depleted by your previous usage; this could've been your last-ditch effort.

The final move.

And it failed.

It makes him smile. A sinister twist of lips that morphs into a grin. Moving fast, his expression resembles one of a predator closing in on its prey. The ruby stain on his robe seems to accentuate his aura of danger, a stark contrast to the pristine white it once was.

As your body contorts and arches backward, you skillfully evade the incoming fist aimed at your face. Your unwavering gaze remains locked onto his intense stare. With your palm pressed flat against the ground of the crane, you swiftly raise your leg, delivering a targeted strike to the meat of his thigh.

But before your maneuver can fully unfold, his hand seizes your ankle, pulling you towards him and locking your leg in place as he maneuvers over your body. Kashimo's grin widens, a predatory glint in his eyes that triggers a ripple of unease down your spine.

As his fist whizzes past your face, you seize the opportune moment to mount a counterattack. His fingers, still harshly locked around your right ankle, you push and pull against his grasp. Leg successfully moving to close over his thigh, the other hooking around his hip.

Legs now firmly encircling his waist, you use every ounce of your strength to push. Destabilize the sorcerer. Break his foundation. Disrupt his equilibrium.

The outcome? Both of you soaring through the air and down the crane. Kashimo's form aligns perfectly with the approaching solidity of the dockside concrete.

A rapid free fall, gravity's pull unrelenting.

If you're not getting the points, he's not getting his answers either.

His eyes momentarily flit to the ground below. Unspoken recognition of the shared peril that binds you both. The realization dawns in his eyes, widening them momentarily, before his gaze settles onto your face once more – unimpressed. Jaded.

"Oops," you jest under your breath, fingers finding purchase on the fabric of his torn clothes. An unhinged smile on your lips, eyebrows lifting in a mix of audacity and exhilaration. The wind sweeps through, rustling your hair with a cool caress that contrasts starkly with the warm stickiness of blood on your skin.

"It's accumulated enough."

That's the only forewarning you get. In an instant, the atmosphere shifts; an electrifying tension that dances along your skin. You sense the already familiar tingling as the static charges from the man beneath you. Kashimo's cursed energy now gaining intensity.

His open hand thrusts towards your face, a surge of energy gathering at his fingertips. Only to get countered by your own palm. Flat against each other. Forcing a focal point of energy converges and resistance to form. As the push effect comes into play just in time with waves of electricity.

The crackling intensity escalates, its tendrils reaching out with an insatiable hunger. Only to be pushed back by your own manipulation acting as a steadfast wall. It's a symphony of sensations — the tingling of your skin, the hum of power in the air, the gradual crescendo of pressure between your palms. The vortex throbs and pulses, a living embodiment of the forces you both wield.

The thing is – The conductivity of the vacuum…depending on how you look at it, it behaves in two different ways:

Firstly, when you examine the motion of charged particles with a constant velocity within a vacuum, you encounter an interesting phenomenon. Unlike in other mediums, there is no opposing force acting against these particles. Consequently, maintaining a steady current across any surface within a vacuum demands no additional effort.

However, a contrasting phenomenon manifests when we consider the existence of free charges within conductors. When an electric field, denoted as E, is imposed upon a conductor, it triggers a flow of electric current. This internal charge movement gives rise to a current density described by the equation: J = σE, where σ symbolizes the conductivity of the material. Notably, within a vacuum, σ assumes a value of 0; hence, electric fields lack the capacity to spontaneously induce current flow.

In this context, the vacuum departs from the role of a conductor. Even materials known as insulators, which typically restrict the flow of current, possess conductivity values that are low but not completely absent.

As a result, the resistance exhibited by a vacuum effectively amounts to infinity—particularly when you define resistance through the lens of how charge carriers in a substance respond. Viewed from this perspective, you could liken the vacuum to an insulator, given the absence of charge carriers that are essential for the propagation of electric current.

So in the end, your innate ability functions like an antistatic force.

It should be enough to counter his attack. Neutralizing his endeavor and ricocheting it back to him. Only if his other hand, clenched into a fist, suddenly hasn't entered your line of sight, aiming for your jaw.

The controlled push-only effect falters. Then crumbles. The void's pull reclaims all that Kashimo had imparted, drawing it back with an insatiable greed.

"Damn you." It now comes down to the last aspect of your technique.

Implosion.

The energies within your vacuum field converge, collapsing inwards with a blinding intensity. A jarring impact against the back of your head – or it might be the ending of your fall. Everything's just confusing. Everything blurs into a disorienting haze of continuous events.

The unforgiving touch of concrete grates against your scraped back. Each breath, now shallow and ragged, causes pain.

Above, the sky stretches wide and boundless. Until the sight is blocked by a mop of cerulean blue hair. Two buns somehow still in place. Same-colored eyes staring at your form. Arms folded and a countenance marred by bloodstains and scrapes. Each leg positioned on either side of your hips before one presses against the flat of your clavicles.

"You're quite durable," Kashimo retorts, pushing his weight down on you, "that should've killed you right there."

"Heh," you manage a wry chuckle, your voice strained but defiant, "guess I'm full of surprises."

He raises an eyebrow, a flicker of almost-amusement dancing in his eyes. The world around you seems to blur at the edges, the strain of the plummet combined with the failed attempt of your innate technique taking a heavy toll on your senses.

"It's been a while since I've encountered someone who can keep me on my toes this long. Now tell me," your name rolls off his tongue in a taunting lilt, "where's Sukuna?"

The distant sounds of the dockside begin to fade, replaced by an eerie emptiness. Despite your unwavering determination, a tide of dizziness threatens to engulf you, and you struggle to maintain your focus on Kashimo's face.

"On vaca–"

The weight on your chest vanishes abruptly. Kashimo's foot makes fleeting contact with your cheek before returning to its original place.

"Don't play with me. Spit it out."

"Oi," a voice calls to your right. A voice you know; Hakari's, "It's not very chivalrous to strike a lady like that."

From here, everything dissolves into darkness.

The world sways, a disorienting dance of shadows and sensations. Light pressure settles on your stomach with sounds echoing faintly in the distance. A gentle, steady rhythm envelops you as if you're being cradled in a cocoon of safety. Your limbs feel weightless, as though the ground beneath you has transformed into a soft cloud that carries your burdens away.

Your mind struggles to tether itself to the present, grappling with the fragments of consciousness that slip through your grasp. Colors blur, merging into a hazy kaleidoscope of fleeting images. The arms that encircle you exude warmth thought. One that lulls you back to sleep.

Yet you manage to summon the strength to part your heavy eyelids. Through the haze, you see a blur of black and white on top of you. Head resting upon something firm and solid – a breastplate, you realize. The rhythmic cadence that envelops you is accompanied by the subtle rise and fall of breath, a heartbeat that resonates beneath your cheek.

"Panda," you murmur, voice a tentative whisper as you attempt to comprehend whether or not you're dreaming, considering the creature on you is now a size of an actual teddy bear.

The toy-sized Panda remains seated on you but looks your way, emitting a surprised yelp at the sound of your voice, before swiftly turning his gaze forward again, "Hakari, she's awake!"

Your vision – still blurred – manages to trace a figure walking at the edge of your peripheral sight – left arm missing, shirt gone (he's shirtless, you discern), and crowned with purple hair. Hakari. But if Hakari's walking in front of you. Then…

Lifting your eyes, you suddenly lock onto a fleeting sight of vibrant cyan hair. The once-pristine white attire now soaked and marred with splotches of vivid red, creating an unsettling contrast. Your heart skips a beat as the realization dawns upon you.

It's Kashimo who bears the weight of your limp form.

"She's gonna pass out soon again," his voice carries vibrations that travel from his chest to your cheek with his gaze fixed upon you.

And he's right as your body, weary and battered, succumbs once more to the embrace of slumber.

#moni writes #hajime kashimo #hajime kashimo x reader #kashimo x reader #hajime x reader #jujutsu kaisen #hajime kashimo x y/n #hajime x y/n #kashimo x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jjk imagines #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen fanfic

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torutorubozu · 1 year ago

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ohmygod sub kashimo truther..

i know damn well that man is the BIGGEST brat. he would swear at you and ask for more with a bored look.

well thats until you fuck his brains out until hes nothing but a babbling crying mess <3 i bet hed like it when you pull his hair as well..

[alsoalso! may i be 🦷 anon ?]

OHMYGOF MY FIRST FUCKING THIRST IS A KASHIMO ONE..??? YES PLZ. aaand yes u may be 🦷 nonnie :3

𝟐𝟓.𝟎𝟗.𝟐𝟑 — 𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐜

cw/tw :: mean reader, heavy (?) degradation, reader calls kashimo a slut a lot, hair pulling

“c’mon, you can do better than that.” he groaned, looking up at you with a bored look. “don’t have to be so gentle with me all the fuckin’ time.”

you’ve been fucking him in a slow pace for a good while—and he’s been awfully bored. you grabbed a handful of his hair, yanking it so he faced you, “you want more, hm?” he looked at you back, “yeah—” he huffed, “—give me more, i’m getting bored here.”

you didn’t hesitate at all, gripping kashimo by the waist and slamming into him. his back arched, head thrown back and letting go of the white sheets he was holding onto. it was sudden—maybe too sudden. did you care, though? no. not at all. he wanted this, didn’t he?

you kept going, still in that fast pace. it didn’t take that long for him to be a blabbering mess under you. “ngh—nnh.. slo-slow down…” he managed to mutter between his moans. you yanked him by the hair once more, “aww… didn’t you ask me to fuck you harder just now? you’re already telling me to stop?”

he whimpered, unable to say anything. all he was able to do was moan like a slut under you. “you look fucking pathetic right now, you know that right?” you mocked, grabbing him by the face, just to really see how fucked out he looked—teary eyes with his mouth hanging, god he looked so, so cute. “what a slut you are, kashimo.”

he sobbed, “no-nh… m’not a slut… i’m n—” he got cut off by a sudden thrust, hitting his prostate and making him let out a loud, high pitched moan. “you’re not a slut? really? then why’s your body reacting like this, huh?”

you were right, the way he moaned, the way his back arched, the way he threw his head back with his tongue lolled out—everything. it made him look like a common slut.

you continued on and on with that fast, animalistic pace of yours, hitting his prostate with each thrust. still slamming into him as he moaned until his throat went dry.

“i’m gonna—” he wasn’t even able to finish his sentence, he just threw his head back as he orgasmed. he came all over his stomach, making a complete mess. but he was way too fucked out to even comprehend what was even happening.

his messy cyan hair was all over his face, he couldn’t even think anymore. all he could do was moan out your name as you slammed into him over and over and over again.

you slowed down your pace, wiping his tears away, “such a pretty slut you are, kashimo. look at you.” he just nodded without a word, still letting out soft moans.

#.ᐟ :: fuu writes .#𓆩 :: jujutsu kaisen .#✧ :: 🦷 anon .#♡ :: hajime kashimo .#hajime kashimo #kashimo x reader #sub kashimo #sub jjk #jjk x reader #hajime kashimo x reader #dom reader #sub character

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shiyorux · 1 year ago

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—

He towered over you, staring down at you as a hunter would its prey. Those dark eyes looming over your trembling figure. “I didn’t give you permission to lock yourself up like that.” His voice sounded, making your movements halt and heart skip a beat at his cold, but yet loud and threatening voice. He grabbed your shoulder, pulling you out of the bathroom, shutting the door behind you.

He bent down to your level slightly, looking you dead in the eyes. He grabbed your chin, making you stare directly into his, viewing your own pathetic reflection in his iris. “Do you know how easy it would be to kill you right now?” He scoffed, letting go of your chin and standing straight up again.

You couldn’t formulate any words or comprehend what he was saying completely. It was if your brain had stopped working and all senses had left you as he stared you down.

“I haven’t even raised my hand, and yet you’re already afraid of me.” You tried to reply, but it seemed like the words had been caught up in your throat. He only scoffed yet again in response.

— RYOMEN SUKUNA, Gojo Satoru, HAJIME KASHIMO, Toji Fushiguro, Suguru Geto, and anybody else you’d like lmao

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sayakasnonsense · 1 year ago

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Braiding his hair <3

Storyline: how different men will react to you braiding their hair.

Content: fluffy hehe

Word from the author: Hair you go! (Do you get it? Like hair as in here? Im sorry this is so bad)

xoxo, sayaka.sy

those who love it secretly but will never tell you~

He lets out a deep sigh as he watches you crawl behind him, reaching your hands out to play with his long, silky hair. He watches in the mirror, hiding a blush as you weave braids and flowers and god knows what into it.

“…love… is this really necessary…?” He mumbles, worried about what people will think when he goes to work.

“Of course!” You reply, giggling as he heaves a big sigh.

He may not say it, but he absolutely loves the new hairstyle.

Neuvillette, Kamisato Ayato, Thoma, Geto Suguru, Diluc, Giyuu Tomioka, Yue, Kokushibo, Morax/Zhongli, Luocha, Blade, Sigma, Chuuya, Hajime Kashimo… your favourites.

And then there’s… those who will rave about how wonderful beautiful amazing it is to everyone and anyone~

“Woah! I look so nice!” The man yells as soon as you finish tying his hair. He then proceeds to parade around the house for 15 minutes straight, taking selfies and photos and posting them online.

“Calm down…” you murmur, giggling at how happy he looks.

At work, his coworkers have to tell him to shut up because the can’t concentrate with him raving and yelling like a madman about his hair.

Arataki Itto, Kaeya, Douma, Rengoku, Tengen, Jing Yuan, Kaeya, Cyno, Dazai, Baizhu, Choso, Theres more i cant think of them tho…

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hinakazino · 11 months ago

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Winning In Romance || Kashimo x Reader

Summary: Part 2 of Losing In Romance! You are attempting to distance yourself from Kashimo, but your parents aren't fond of this. A new potential suitor supposedly is here to swoon you, but Kashimo's never fought in love has he? Warnings: Kashimo is new to love, dumb kashimo, possessive kashimo, fluff, somewhat angst, angst but happy ending.

Kashimo had noticed your shift in demeanor right away. That night when he'd returned home, he'd felt the cold eerie darkness that presented itself as he had to turn on the lights throughout the house. He made sure to be as quiet as possible, making sure not to disturb you, but it seems you were far too busy crying. Kashimo frowned as he heard your sniffles and gulps from behind your bedroom door. You both shared separate bedrooms and for a moment he just stood outside your door. His knuckles brushing against the wood but retracting as he decided to go to bed not wanting to disturb you. That following morning he'd awoke to you already gone, apparently you'd went to visit a friend. Your presence still lingered with the soft warm breakfast you'd prepared for him, like everyday. Kashimo had ate it as usual, not wasting a drop. He always thought your food was delicious, enjoying watching you cook, however today it felt duller without you being there to enjoy it with him. He remembers how you jokingly interrogated him on whether it actually tasted good or not. The fun memory playing in his head as he sighs finishing the food, leaning back on the chair becoming lost in his thoughts on the current situation. It was not a particularly good feeling in the morning. You on the other hand, currently were sobbing into your friends arms from heartbreak. Kirara softly pat your head, their other hand comforting your back as you continued crying on their shoulder. "It's okay, you can let it all out," they whisper as you hiccup and struggle to breath.

After awhile, you end up calming down, deciding to finally eat the food you'd prepared and brought to Kirara's residence. You ate slowly as your eyes were puffy and sore from crying. Your clogged nose didn't make things better as you tried to take in the scent of your delicious creation. Kirara was a great friend of yours, you'd met them through Kashimo and your friendship bloomed. It made sense, the people you both cherished were great friends so it was only natural you'd both be too. A whine escaped your lips as you ate another spoonful of food in dismay.

Kirara had gotten up and came back with a cup of warm tea, your favorite flavor too. You couldn't help but smile, it's the little things friends do that are the best, you thought. Mouthing a thank you to Kirara who shushed you, "don't speak while eating, you'll choke!" They only made you scoff, seeing your lightened mood Kirara decided to address the problem at hand, "I understand why you feel this way y/n, and Kashimo, but he didn't have to be such an ass! That Hakari too- I'll make sure to beat some common sense into them," they stated fuming. Kirara disliked seeing you in such a state and although they could see the unfortunate circumstances you were in with Kashimo.

They truly felt that Kashimo had crossed a line with Hakari, "Kashimo should've- should've at least delivered it better!" Kirara huffed, her hands crossing in annoyance as she threw herself back on the couch next to you. You could only stare at her grimly, unsure of what to do. It wasn't like the confession was false but it just cut deeper hearing it yourself.

You decided to spend the whole day with Kirara, working together in emotional healing and preparation. Mainly because you would have to return to your shared residence since eventually yours and Kashimo's family would come knocking. They clearly could care less about how we're actually doing, you think.

You didn't want to drag Kirara into this but it seemed they were determined to do something. Mentioning how they'd "definitely have a talk," how "kashimo doesn't even realize what you've been through," and that "he is so stupid". You weren't particularly worried what Kirara would do, just making sure to reason with them to not make things worse.

Kirara of course promised to not do anything reckless, and afterwards it was just a huge emphasis on facing Kashimo back home. You ended up staying a week at Kirara's in no rush as you didn't want to reveal yourself in such a weak state, only returning home one afternoon.

You felt horrible for only arriving back to the residence now, however you didn't feel well enough to see him in the morning. It was a sickening feeling you didn't know how to describe. Small sweat began to form on your face, as your hands were shaking from attempting to turn your keys, and from holding your breath as you carefully slid open the door. Only to find that Kashimo had fallen asleep on the couch. You felt yourself breath again as you silently shut the door, but that didn't seem to hide anything because the next thing you knew Kashimo was sitting up wide awake. Staring at you, grounding you in place.

You didn't dare speak a word, you didn't even know what to say, you felt like a deer caught in the headlights. You could tell he wasn't happy though. His beautiful cyan hair was a mess, curls sticking out unnaturally, he had eye bags under his now dull golden eyes, and his body seemed to lean towards you in a daze. "You're back.." Kashimo states as he gets up and moves towards you. He reaches his hand out to cup your cheek and winces when you flinch at his touch. His hands were cold and unfamiliar, you normally wouldn't mind but it was extremely awkward considering the situation.

Finding your voice again you decided to move, "um- yeah sorry wasn't well, don't worry though everything's fine!" you hurriedly say, attempting to go pass him. The attempt fails as Kashimo uses his body to block you, his strong arms clasping your shoulders to hold you still.

Kashimo doesn't know what to say so he just blurts out, "I'm sorry! I didn't want to sound that way, I know it wasn't right of me to inform you that way! I- I um, you're wonderful and well- please forgive me! Oh or don't, that's okay, you can hit me if it feels better!" You're in a state of shock as Kashimo lets you go and proceeds to lower himself onto his knees. Glancing up at you with eyes now filled with determination as he goes below your height. You can't help but laugh at the sight, he is so cute dammit, you think to yourself, hands anxiously fiddling. As quickly as possible you push him back to stand, "I don't want to hit you, and don't worry, I'm hurt but it is what it is, we'll work through it," you say softly. You could tell his apology was genuine, with the way he was glancing at you now like a puppy. This was just how it was though, one sided love, you thought.

You wanted to make yourself clear however, "we can just have everything fall back into place, soon our families will step in, they're the ones who brought this whole mess after all," you state in a hopeful tone. In truth, you didn't want to remain distant with him, he was still a good man, but this was for the best. Kashimo stood up straight again, but his face was unreadable. It made you feel uncomfortable to not know, but the reality was actually because Kashimo didn't know how to feel. His lips were pulled tight together, as your words settled.

The thought of you and him separating didn't seem pleasing to him, it never really did but for him, he thinks it is due to him never having had an actual lover. Kashimo couldn't grasp the swirl of emotions inside him now, but he knows he dislikes what you're saying. It is a sudden strong dislike that has him slumping his shoulders further in guilt.

He felt like a real jerk, he knew he couldn't take his words back, what he did wasn't honorable in any way despite him being a warrior. Kashimo began to seriously question what you meant to him whilst you were gone, and it's just then he remembers an incident during your week away.

How after the 3rd day he'd grown anxious and decided to seek you out. Somehow wounding up at Hakari's house in a state of distress, frantically asking of your whereabouts. Instead of Hakari however, Kirara answered the door. It wasn't strange as they were over at Hakari's quite frequently but their demeanor wasn't friendly. Kirara had welcomed him into the living room where he could see Hakari on the couch in silence. It didn't take him long to realize that Hakari was just being scolded and now him. "I'll cut to the chase, KASHIMO YOU COULDN'T EVEN TELL HER NICELY????" Kirara shouts. Beads of sweat form for Hakari as his hands stay placed nervously on his lap. Kashimo is now seated next to him at a loss of words, he knows Kirara isn't wrong, allowing them to further scold him. "You really broke her ya know! Like she knows already you guys didn't have to rub it in... OH MY GOD-- you don't even know what she already goes through with her family pressuring her AND the bullying she receives from those other bitches!!" Kiara yells as Kashimo's head snaps up confused. "What?" he asks, stupidly so. "What do you mean what? You don't know?? Oh well you never really attended the majority of the parties, but basically you have fangirls that've been harassing y/n about how pathetic this is," Kiara says, hands gesturing at the whole situation as she slumps down on the couch across from the two. Catching her breath from ranting so much and sighing. Kashimo had questioned Kiara after on the severity of the bullying and the bullies themselves. He felt like hitting himself more and more hearing what you had to endure. Kashimo realized he was a true idiot, just because he didn't care about his family that doesn't mean it applies to you. Along with that he hadn't really cared much about reputation, and yours he clearly damaged.

All of these emotions he felt once again, standing before you now. The weight on his shoulders never seeming to budge, he could see the eye-bags under your eyes, you were exhausted and he was just happy to have you back in his vicinity. "I just want you to know I do not hate you, you're a wonderful and lovely person," he mentions softly. You feel your heart flutter at his words and tone, but the excitement quickly settles. "Thank you, I'll- um good night," you bid farewell to Kashimo deciding to just go rest for the night. Leaving him to his own thoughts as he questions his true feelings for you, mainly the amount of pain in your eyes.

It all goes back to normal the next day, there's an awkward tension hanging in the house. It is accompanied with a comforting blanket though, as you both settle into a friendly routine with each other. You notice that Kashimo is even more attentive than before, offering to help you with tasks like folding laundry (despite being bad at it). The next few days go by when suddenly an invitation for a party arrives. The Kamo clan is holding a ceremony to announce their next clan leader. You would've skipped it this time as after spending much time with Kirara, you were fed up with your families whole talk on "reputation". This invitation was different though, because your good childhood friend Choso Kamo would be attending. Maybe even as the next heir, surely I must make it for him, you think, smiling as at least your friend is okay. You were reading over the letter with Kashimo looking over your shoulder.

You expected him to decline as he doesn't enjoy parties and their over exaggerated formalities, normally leaving you to attend. "I'll come with you," he says instead, and you find yourself appreciating that he doesn't want to leave your side. You both settle the matter and continue on until the day of the party. When the day comes you arrive with Kashimo, hand-in-hand the two of you walk into the large beautiful building on the Kamo estate. The luxurious gardens along with statues and fountains welcome everyone into the main building. Where the party is already lively with music played by an orchestra.

You and Kashimo arrive just in time to greet the soon-to-be previous clan leader. Norotoshi Kamo who welcomes you both, mentioning how lovely it is to see you again, valiantly disregarding Kashimo, much to his annoyance.

It doesn't take long for the crowd to quiet down as Choso is indeed announced as the new clan head. Cheers erupt as everyone begins piling gifts to Choso and dining on the provided feast. You and Kashimo end up separated as you go speak with Choso yourself. "Choso! Over here!" you yell, navigating through a crowd of people who get up to dance. Choso is talking to some other higher ups but he dismisses himself to come speak to you. "Oh shoot- sorry if I interrupted," you say, worried you'll make a bad impression on your friend.

Choso chuckles, "no worries, they're quite boring anyway, how've you been?" he asks after reassuring you. You respond by informing him how things between you and Kashimo have gotten better, "though I have a feeling we may divorce soon" you add solemnly. Choso's eyes widen as he frowns, placing a hand on your shoulder for comfort, "you will find the one," he says, a bit too seriously as his eyes bore into yours. You find yourself giggling at his expression and tone, "goodness you sound like you're declaring war!" you say laughing. Choso looks away for a moment embarrassed, "ah you know I'm not good with words," he says, smiling down at you as he did somehow lift your spirits. You stare up at him in appreciation, "yeah but you're trying your best," you say before being interrupted.

A woman who looks about your age approaches with some other girls, you don't know her well but you recognize that she along with some others are part of the group who consistently mock you. It hasn't been a big issue, but got more intense as your marriage to Kashimo stayed somewhat stale.

"So desperate you're clinging to another man? Not a bad choice though~" she says, snickering at you. The other ladies throw rude glances, some glare directly at you, making you feel so small. You never really knew how to deal with people like them.

Often you opted to just ignore them, giving them the idea that you weren't listening to their nonsense. It didn't matter, as although you imagined yourself giving a clever retort, it just doesn't come out in the form of words. Your hands become sweaty as you feel like you're shrinking.

You don't even realize you're holding your breath until Choso's hand softly taps your waist. His smile comforting you before he turns and quickly reprimands the girls. "How bold you are insulting the wife of the Hajime clans future leader? Are you not aware of the consequences you face?" he questions.

Choso's gaze is nothing short of deadly as some of the ladies back away in fear. The main woman however isn't easily scared, she also held affections for Kashimo from what you remember. "Isn't the wife supposed to be with her husband? Hm? Pathetic how you are even married- Kashimo doesn't deserve this torture!" she yells, not even trying to hide the scene. You begin to panic as you see other people who are eating turn heads towards you. Choso decides to end the matter, walking up to the woman and harshly stating, "you dare place the blame on y/n! You're just jealous you can't even get married and now I see why. How shameful a woman you are, you wouldn't be this honest in front of that Hajime now would you?" he seethes.

This seems to snap the woman out of her confidence as she decides to turn around and leave. You relax as Choso turns towards you, you're just happy it's over. Only to tense up again as he greets your parents, who were approaching the scene from behind you.

Your mother worriedly comes to pull you into a hug, which you melt into. You hear her quietly whispering to you about how "it's okay now", "I'm sorry I couldn't do anything", and "damn your father" in sadness. You know your mom didn't want you to suffer, but father had other plans.

Your dad smiles a bit too lovingly at you and your mother before turning to Choso. "I congratulate you on becoming clan head, it feels like it was just yesterday when you and y/n were playing together, thank you for taking care of my daughter even now," your father says. It all seems rehearsed as your father takes a hold of Choso's hands in a forward gesture of appreciation. Choso is a bit taken aback but just nods in understanding.

Meanwhile from the other side of the room Kashimo watches. He'd tried to go and save you, anger rising up his throat when he witnessed what happened. But Choso had came to your rescue instead, leaving Kashimo dumbfounded.

Kashimo doesn't know how long he stood in the middle of the dance floor, but it was enough for Hakari to pull him out. He didn't like how you were laughing with Choso before, and he most certainly didn't miss the way Choso's hand had patted you.

Kashimo had never really felt this way, but he began to wonder whether this was what you were feeling. How it felt to be left out, and to not have someone you care about look at you happily. He felt his hand reach over his chest as he couldn't pinpoint this heartthrob feeling.

Hakari watched his friend in emotional turmoil, but before he could speak someone else had cut him off. Kashimo's eyes were fixated on the way Choso had fended off your bullies and who now was talking to your family, in such a familiar manner too. He couldn't help the thought that crossed his mind, how Choso looked like he fit in with your family, with you.

Instantly he was snapped out of his daze as his mother's words sliced through his ears. "You see it too can't you son?" she asks, not letting him respond as she continues, "the way that Kamo fits so well with her, they're already planning on remarrying her".

Kashimo's heart drops, as he glances over at you and Choso speaking again before turning his attention to his mother. "That's nonsense, you're overthinking--" "Oh! Just! I can't even argue with you because they'd make a much better match," his mother states. She huffs at Kashimo who doesn't know what to say. To him, it reminds him of when he was getting scolded as a child, normally he'd talk back but his mother was swift. "I don't even know anymore! Whether I was blessed with you- isn't it funny? Hah! MY SON CAN WIN ALL BATTLES BUT HE CAN'T EVEN WIN IN LOVE". Kashimo feels his shoulders stiffen as he senses your eyes on him, your worried eyes, now glancing at him as his mother lets out all her anger on him. He is sure that everyone is enjoying this drama, but in this moment he can't stand the idea of you being with someone else. He ignores his mother as he holds your gaze, greatly enjoying the fact that you are worried for him, that you care. Kashimo doesn't know but he just decides then that he wants you to be with him. That he doesn't want a divorce, that he wants to be by your side, that he, he is in love with you too.

He was just too stupid, too oblivious to understand that he had developed feelings. He just didn't recognize them, he has only ever understood completely the rush of adrenaline in battle. He hasn't ever really had anyone care for him in such a manner.

Kashimo can feel himself getting jealous as your attention averts away from him as Choso mentions something to you. All he knows is that he doesn't like the idea of you looking at someone else the way you do to him. So he bolts over to your side, he isn't sure what he'll do but he knows it just feels right. You're shocked when Kashimos hands wrap around your waist from behind. You face heats up as he rests his head on your shoulder, his hot breath hitting your neck and causing you to shiver. You don't even register the way he glares at Choso, shooing him away, or even Choso's dismissal of himself. All you know is that Kashimo seems strangely possessive.

It's a completely new sensation. Your hand softly places itself on Kashimo's face as you squirm a bit from his hold, not use to being touched. Kashimo snaps out of his thoughts, successfully having chased Choso off he releases you sensing your discomfort. He doesn't know what to say, nor do as you both stare at each other. Kashimo decides that he is horrible at communication so he just grabs your hand, pulling you along with him outside of the party. You just continue watching his facial expression in confusion as he ushers you outside. His face is serious as a crowd of people part for him, and it makes you wonder whether you did something wrong. You decide to speak first once you're both alone in a secluded section of the gardens out back. "If this is about me and Choso it's not what you think, that girl earlier was just crazy- uh I'm, really sorry," you apologize, gaze shifting downwards as you anticipate his response. Your fingers tightly intertwine and squeeze in worry. You flinch in surprise as he cups your face in his hands, tilting you to look up at him. "That's not it, stop apologizing! It isn't your fault!" he states, gently squishing you cheeks for emphasis. You feel your face warm up as he continues to stare, his eyes moving from yours down to your lips.

Kashimo just finds himself loss in your face at the moment. His brain is thinking about how cute you are, smiling, albeit nervously as your cheeks are squished. He is thinking about how soft your cheeks are, how pretty your eyes are in the sunlight, how adorable your nose is, and how kissable your lips look. Does this even make sense? He doesn't care, in fact he doesn't know how to express it in words, but he tries anyway. "I know I haven't been the ideal partner, and I've been really pathetic, really, but would you still give me a chance to prove myself worthy? These feelings are a bit new, but I want to be with you, I- I'm attracted to you! You're so kind, amazing, ah- I just didn't realize, I do love you..." he blurts, mumbling at the end, letting go of your face as his hands fall to his sides. Kashimo's face is red from embarrassment, he feels much like a child, wanting to grab your hands, and kiss you. However, he doesn't want to cause more damage than he already has. His eyes shift away from you for a moment, he is really scared, and this is new to him too. Kashimo feels like if he loses you, it'd be worser than losing any fight in his life. He instantly becomes concerned as you start crying, you still love him too, and you're just so happy. Happy that he feels the same too, and that these persistent feelings in your heart are now accepted. Your eyes begin overflowing as your vision blurs when you attempt to look at Kashimo clearly. "I'm willing, I'm just so happy! I thought you wouldn't ever- that it was over," you hiccup, smiling still. Kashimo has a major wave of relief wash over him, but it's more than that, it is like a cleansing for a new beginning. He wraps you in his arms again, hugging you to his chest as his hand softly pets your head. He comes close to your ear, "shhhh, I'm here now and I'll be with you from now on," he says glancing lovingly at you. His hand gently moving down to wipe more tears from your face. You calm down as you lean into his touch, his palm feels hot against your skin, glancing up at him you hesitantly ask, "could I kiss you?". He nods, "you don't have to ask, just do it," Kashimo says grinning at your embarrassment. He doesn't let you dwell on the idea as he leans down to kiss you. It is the greatest kiss you've ever had, full of emotional need and warm. Your hands wrap around his neck to pull him down, closer to you as your hand entangles a bit with his cyan hair. His lips are just as soft as you remember, and the kiss goes deeper as you both only part when the need for air is present. You're in a daze as you watch the string of salvia clinging between your lips and his. Your tongue burns slightly from the wrestling you'd been doing with him. It isn't surprising that Kashimo is so passionate when it comes to kissing, as you've imagined a couple times before. The point is that it is much more surreal as you stare at him huffing down at you two. His eyes heavily hooded as he stares at you almost hungrily. Kashimo's hands are holding you again, he sits down on a nearby bench, pulling you onto his lap as he lays on your chest staring up at you dreamily. He decides he wants to protect you at all costs, and that he won't be so stupidly reckless no more. He just wants to spend his time appreciating you and you, with him. He sinks into the way you giggle at him and play with his hair. He is content with starting this new chapter of his life with you, knowing that he was able to win in romance too.

#jujutsu kaisen #anime #jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #kashimo #kashimo hajime #hajime kashimo #kashimo x reader #hajime kashimo x reader #kashimo x y/n

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eternal-evergreens · 5 months ago

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may I request a yandere hajime kashimo x fem reader or yandere gato x fem reader if you haven't read the manga yet

｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧ "Arc Flash" ｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧

Post format: drabble

Paring: Yandere! Hajime Kashimo x Fem! Reader

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings: major injury, slight gore, period-typical misogyny (nothing from Hajime), cross-dressing, forced marriage

You were once one of the strongest sorcerers of your time, though your days of glory have long since passed you by.

You were twenty-five when you fought what you thought to be your last battle. Twenty-five when you sustained a life-altering injury. Twenty-five when you lost it all.

Hajime Kashimo. Your childhood friend turned sour. Endearing when you were children, his fixation on you began to verge on unnerving as you entered adolescence. By the time you had entered adulthood, it had bloomed into an obsession from which you could not escape.

“Let’s get married,” he told you on your eighteenth birthday. He wasn’t asking for your opinion. If you wanted to get out of this, you’d need a better excuse than ‘I don’t want to’.

“I can’t,” you said flatly, luggage in hand. You needed to get going before noon, and he was blocking your only exit. “It’s a tradition in my family for sorcerers to go on a pilgrimage of strength once they enter adulthood. You know this.”

“I’m not like them,” you say. “I need to get stronger.”

“The girls usually choose to get married instead, though.”

“You don't even have a technique!” You pause.

That's not quite true, though he has no way to know it. You never told him about it, after all.

“...Even more reason to get stronger.”

You do have a technique, but you've only just recently discovered it.

“You won’t need to get stronger once you’re under my protection.”

Most sorcerers become aware of their technique around five or six…

“And what if someone attacks me while you’re away? I’m going. End of story.”

…but it's a different story if their technique requires the use of a medium that is hard to come by.

“When you come back, then,” he says. You give a vague indication of agreement, and he lets you pass.

Corpses aren't exactly common playthings for a child, after all.

Most pilgrimages of this type end after a maximum of three years. However, returning was never something you planned on doing. Your family scorned you for not being a meek and obedient daughter, and Hajime had chased off the only friends you had. There was nothing left for you back in the village. The pilgrimage was largely nothing more than an excuse for your escape.

Of course, that doesn’t mean it was all for show. You were’nt lying when you said you wanted to get stronger, after all.

Within just a year of your departure, rumours of “The Masked Sorcerer” began to circulate around Japan. Despite the growing fame, you weren’t worried about being caught. After all, [First] [Last] was a female sorcerer of humble origins with no innate technique, completely different from the Masked Sorcerer, an anonymous male who possessed a mastery over corpse manipulation.

After seven years of independence, you thought you'd never see anyone from your past ever again. But perhaps the years of separation had worn on your memory; you seemed to have forgotten that Hajime was a junkie for battle.

It was a relatively simple attack from behind. So easy to dodge that you suspect it was meant more as a declaration than a genuine attempt on your life. You reach for your katana, prepared to take your assailant down in one blow, however, a familiar voice freezes you in place.

“You’re the masked sorcerer, right?” He asked. “I've been looking for you.” Hajime lunges for you, his cursed energy crackling around him. You jump to create distance, narrowly avoiding a collision. Snapping out of your momemtary stupor, this time you don’t hesitate to unsheathe your katana and swing it down in one fluid motion. At the same time, you summon a horde of skeletons to join you in battle. Skeletons don’t make for the strongest fighters, but bones are the most resistant to electric conduction. That makes them perfect for fighting against Hajime’s cursed energy.

“So this is corpse manipulation!” Hajime exclaims, leaping out of your sword’s path. “I’ve never seen anything like it!” Your skeletons swarm him, each armed with weapons made of bone. Hajime releases a surge of electricity, but the skeletons hardly react. “Not bad.” He grins. “You even accounted for the special property of my cursed energy. However,” Hajime drops his staff and raises his arms to his chest, making a hand sign you recognise instantly. How could you forget? You were the first person he showed it off to.

“Hey, look at this! I just learned how to make explosions!” Hajime, age twelve, told you, guiding you by the hand as he ran with you across an open field. “[First], [First], look!”

“I’m looking, I’m looking,” you say. Hajime smiles, letting go of your hand to free up his own, he places his left palm over the back of his right hand, making a sign that resembles a butterfly’s wings. “How does it work?”

“So you take a bunch of electricity like this to create a sort of field, yeah? Then you pulse more electricity through that field, and then…” In a second, the tree standing to your left explodes as if struck by lightning, its stump catches on fire, and its branches fly out in all directions, many of them also on fire.

“Woah! That’s amazing, Hajime!” Hajime puffs out his chest with pride.

“I’ve even thought of a name for it!” He tells you. “I’m calling it—”

“Arc flash.”

In no time at all, the force of the explosion rips your skeletons apart, leaving nothing left between you and him. You lunge forward, katana in hand. He readies his staff to block your attack, and the two of you exchange blows with lightning speed.

“What’s your name?” He asks. You don’t answer. Your voice would give you away. A current passes through your body, shocking the nerves. You lock up, and Hajime reaches to remove your mask. In a flash, you sever his arm. But the damage is done. In an effort to protect your identity, you gave it away instead.

It’s Hajime’s turn to be frozen now. He looks down at the stump of his arm as blood gushes from the cleany cut arteries, then he looks back to you. “That was…”

New Shadow Style: Simple Domain.

By creating a small domain around your body, you’re able to automate your movements, attacking and reacting to attacks faster than you ever could on your own.

It’s not something you came up with, but, having no innate technique to rely on, it was basically your signature back home.

Shit. You messed up.

“Let’s change the rules,” he says, healing his injured hand and picking his staff back up. “If I win, you’ll promise to marry me, just like you did back then.” No point in hiding it now, you figure. You rip off your mask and throw it to the ground.

“And if I win, you’ll die where you stand.”

“Deal.” The two of you launch towards each other in a blaze of fiery passion. You fight well, but it isn’t long before you burn through all of your skeleton reserves. Regular corpses, though stronger, are more suceptible to electric pulse, and don’t last much longer. With nothing but melee combat left at your disposal, it was only a matter of time before a well-placed electrical current sent you out of commission.

That bastard. He targeted your spinal cord on purpose, didn’t he?

“Partial paraplegia,” the doctor said. “It means that while you still retain some form of movement in your legs, it will be quite difficult for you to ever walk again. And even then, only for short distances.”

You wanted to kill him. That good-for-nothing husband of yours was just about as bad as it can get. But a sorcerer’s word is their pride. So you agreed to go back to his residence as his newly disabled wife, though the humiliation and shame just might send you into an early grave.

“Well,” he says, grinning as he wheels you out of the office. “Guess you can’t run away anymore, huh?”

#yandere jjk #yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere x reader #yandere hajime kashimo #hajime kashimo #hajime kashimo x reader #yandere jjk x reader #jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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