#tokyo storefronts
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
First pile of artbooks arrived yesterdayâ€ïž
#j talks#personal#artbooks#one piece color walk 5#kemono fabric tokyo#tokyo storefronts#aki akane art works :nagori#the art of yoshioka: embroidery
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
#tsukiji#tokyo#japan#storefront#japanstreet#shophouse#japanesehouse#japanarchitecture#japanesearchitecture#oldbuilding#oldhouse#showa#kanbankenchiku#çæżć»șçŻ#æć#çŻć°#ć»șçŻ#ć€ăć»șç©#architecture#design#city streets#vending machines#store front#@japanpropertycentral#japanpropertycentral
69 notes
·
View notes
Text
ê§â
ê§
420 notes
·
View notes
Text
strolling around ebisu, tokyo.
æ”æŻćŻżăăèĄšćéăŸă§æ©ăăă
292 notes
·
View notes
Text
#tokyo#japan#sumida#nihon#nippon#street photography#photographers on tumblr#artists on tumblr#original photographers#fujifilm#xt2#night#glow#neon#storefront#blue#green#red#teal
296 notes
·
View notes
Text
Kishimojin Temple (2) (3) (4) by KMrT
24 notes
·
View notes
Text
"Local mart."
|| Buy me a coffee ||
#art#photo#photography#bakery#storefront#muse#inspo#rph#beautiful#winter#scenic#cold#vancouver#french#japanese#tokyo#japan#canada#landscape#city#street#neon#glow#fog#eerie#creepy
18 notes
·
View notes
Text
bought an art book of watercolour paintings of tokyo storefronts and all I want to do now is draw my own little series of important buildings for me in town
18 notes
·
View notes
Text
3 notes
·
View notes
Photo
doctorow/flickr.
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
Title: Negligence.
Pairing: Yan!Geto Suguru x Reader x Yan!Gojo Satoru (JJK).
A Continuation of Nursle.
Word Count: 9.0k.
TW: Dub/Con - Non/Con, Fem!Reader, Unhealthy Relationships, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Kidnapping, Mentions of Pregnancy/Childbirth, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Lactation, Geto and Gojo Have Their Own Thing Going On That Is Entirely Separate From The Events of This Fic, and Age Gaps. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.
[Part One] [Part Two]
Suguru wouldnât let you hold Himari.
Youâd offered to as he led you out of Suguruâs apartment, reached for her instinctively as he gently urged you into the passenger seat of a familiar black car, but Suguru was in a fugue state â eyes glassy, voice softened and tempered, a glazed smile painted over his lips. He kept Himari pressed against his shoulder, and then, when she started to stir, in his lap, bouncing idly on his knee as he drove. It was dangerous â for Himari and for you. You were tempted to tell him that, to insist on holding the daughter that wasnât supposed to belong to him, but then you remembered that he was a cult leader and a kidnapper and a murderer and you kept your mouth shut.
Instead, you kept your hands tucked between your thighs and your eyes focused on the passing landscape, on Tokyo as it dwindled from skyscrapers to rustic storefronts to backwoods. You thought of Megumi, first, surprisingly. Even if he didnât spend the night with Satoru, heâd notice if you werenât in class, tomorrow. Heâd be worried.
You wondered if Nanako and Mimiko had been worried when they suddenly couldnât find you in Suguruâs bedroom, where youâd spent the days following Himariâs birth recovering, when you stopped appearing at Suguruâs temple with a folder of worksheets and enough candy to keep two girls under ten engaged for a full ninety minutes. You wondered how Suguru explained your absence, if he bothered to explain it at all. You wondered how long theyâd hold it against you.
It was getting dark by the time you left the city entirely. With the setting sun to your backs, Suguru slipped onto a deserted seaside road and, still in that gentle tone, broke the silence. âWas it different?â And then, as Himari sniffled, âWith him, I mean. Different than it was for us.â
It took you a moment to realize that he was talking, another to recognize that you were supposed to answer. It was less that you were lost in thought and more that you were lost in the absence of it â your mind a vague, cloudy haze of static and fog and every other grey, disembodied, terrible thing that could seep its way into your consciousness and leave you entirely blank, entirely numb. It was all you could do to remember how to open your mouth, let alone piece an intelligent response together. âWith Satoru?â
âSatoru,â Suguru repeated, almost disdainfully. âIt took you months to call by my given name.â
You couldnât deny that, although part of you was tempted to try. Because it was true. Because it had.
Because it was different â or, it had been, at least. Things had moved so quickly, with Satoru. Heâd gone from a stranger to a stalker to something not totally unlike a partner in a handful of hours, and youâd watched it all from a distance, never fully able to shake that strange sense of liminality. He was rich, and stable, and heâd never suggested that you quit your job or attempted to lock you up in his mansion of an apartment, as trapped as youâd felt. Heâd raped you, but you couldnât say you believed Suguru wouldnât have, had you not been so terrified of what would happen if you ever tried to remove any part of yourself from his control. You knew, rationally, that they had to be around the same age, that Satoru shared every quirk and every immaturity thatâd once made you disgusted to so much consider Suguru in a romantic light, but it was different. When you first met Satoru, youâd seen him as a parent, a provider, a man who wanted to raise your daughter (albeit, with or without your consent). When you first met Suguru, youâd seen him as a boy who fell asleep in temple gardens and pretended not to be as scared as he really was, and if you were being entirely honest with yourself, youâd never really been able to stop seeing him that way. Â
Suguru clicked his tongue. He still wanted an answer, but it was all you could do to shrug, to let your gaze drift back to the passing landscape. âI donât know,â you admitted. âI donât think I wouldâve wanted to marry him either, if heâd asked me to.â
You heard Suguru shift, the engine rev. He started to say something, but a shrill, ear-piercing, howl of a cry cut him off. You didnât need to check to know it was Himari, and to know why.
âSheâs hungry.â You spoke without thinking, snapping toward your daughter. Youâd been on your way to feed her when you found Suguru next to her cradle, meaning she was already more than an hour past due. Himari didnât cry often, but when she did, it was usually for a good reason. Yet another trait that mustâve come from Suguru â had she taken more closely after you, she might not have done anything but cry.
Something crossed across Suguruâs expression; a flash of irritation, a spark of anger, but nothing more violent, nothing lasting. He cooled back into stoic neutrality as one of his hands fell away from the wheel and to the back of your daughterâs onesie â lifting her out of her lap and depositing her unceremoniously in your arms, his eyes never leaving the road. âCan you take care of it?â
It. You had to dig your teeth into the side of your tongue just to stop from saying something youâd regret, from telling him not to talk about your daughter like some unfeeling, inanimate object, not to talk about her at all. You were in a car with a murderer, and you couldnât forget that just because of some misplaced, motherly paranoia.
Instead, you looked around for a jacket, a blanket, something to cover yourself with, and when you found the car utterly and entirely barren, you settled for turning away from him and struggling the sleeve of your dress off of your shoulder. You went through the motions mechanically, automatically â cooing and running your fingers through Himariâs soft hair as she latched on, little hands grasping the scrunched fabric of your dress as she practically fed herself. You preferred formula, especially with Satoru breathing down your neck, but you didnât have much of a choice.
A minute passed in relative silence, Himariâs crying slowly fading back into her usual incoherent, but relatively cheerful babbling. Eventually, her little eyes fluttered shut, and you pulled her away, holding her against your shoulder as she fell asleep. When sheâd gone quiet, Suguru glanced toward you out of the corner of his eye. You saw him stiffen, straighten, then felt the car veer off the road and come to an abrupt, jeering stop.
You held Himari that much closer as Suguru let himself out. He took his time â his fingertips brushing over the hood as he made his way to your side of the vehicle, opening your door and nodding to the side. âYou can leave her on the seat. I promise, Iâll try to be fast.â
You clung to Himari, who shifted restlessly against you. âYou really canât leave newborns unattended, she mightââ
âIâll be fast.â That smile was back in full force, albeit cast in shadow by the quickly dimming light. âIâve missed you.â
You didnât want to, but he was using that tone, again â the one that meant he was already running out of patience. Leaving Himari tucked against the backrest, you let Suguru take your hand and pull you out of your seat. No sooner were you on your feet than the door was slammed shut behind you, then Suguruâs hands were on your waist, pinning you against the side of the car. The heat of the dark metal sapped into your back, your shoulders as Suguruâs mouth found its way to the side of your neck, the crook. âIâve missed you,â he repeated, his voice airy, edging on desperation. âI thought something happened to you. You were gone, and I couldnât find her, and I thought someone mustâve taken you, orââ
His voice cut out. He didnât draw back, but one of his hands fell away from your waist, reappearing on the neckline of your dress. His movements were hasty, rushed, like he couldnât tear the fabric off of your shoulders and down your chest quickly enough. You werenât wearing a bra, but even if you had been, you doubt it wouldâve been much more of a barrier. A chilled sea breeze washed over your exposed chest as Suguruâs mouth fell from your throat to your collarbone, and then to the curve of your breast, lingering. âWanted to do this since you got pregnant,â he muttered, as something heavy and spiked dropped from your diaphragm to the pit of your stomach. âHeld off for the baby, but sheâs had more than enough time with you.â
For a brief moment, every intelligent part of your mind seemed to slow, stall, then stop altogether. You opened your mouth, ready to ask what he meant, but unfortunately, you werenât given the chance to be so painfully oblivious.
Suguruâs lips latched onto your left nipple, and anything you mightâve said was replaced with a hitched whimper.
He was rougher than he really had to be, than his daughter had ever been. The only thing you could think to compare him to, deservedly, was Satoru; just as forceful, just as loud, just as sickeningly eager. The only difference was his tempo. Satoru had always been too giddy not to rush, eager to steal a kiss before you left for work or wake you up with a hand lodged between your thighs, but Suguru seemed content to act as if he had all the time in the world, as if you were somewhere more private than the shoulder of a public road. The flat of his tongue lulled over your nipple as he drank, his free hand coming up to paw at your other breast in almost meditative patterns. You tried to shut your eyes, to block out the wet sounds of his lips working against your skin, but as routine as it was supposed to be, there was little you could do not to hear an occasional, satisfied grunt, not to feel a certain amount of relief as the pressure youâd learned to ignore began to dissipate. His teeth grazed against your skin, and reflexively, your hand found the back of his head, nails biting into his scalp. Rather than pull away, Suguru seemed to purr â the noise deep and throaty, reverberating against you as he leaned that much closer, as he shifted and you felt something stiff press into your thigh. Donât think about it, you forced yourself to chant in the back of your mind, trying to remember all the age-old coping mechanisms youâd used when you were with him, all the coping mechanisms youâd forgotten after realizing that they wouldnât work on someone as unpredictable as Satoru. You couldnât think about it. You couldnât put a name to it. You couldnât acknowledge that sucking on chest was in any way connected to the hard, pulsing cock pressing into yourâ
But you didnât have a choice. Suguru gasped, his breath hitching, and then he was drawing away from you, his forehead resting against your collarbone as a hand fell to the waistband of his jeans, freeing his cock â already stiff, already leaking into his palm. âI missed you.â Youâd lost track of how many times heâd repeated the same meaningless phrase, but this time, his voice shook, misery seeping out from each fractured syllable. You mightâve felt more pity, but any sympathy you mightâve been able to feel for him was quickly drowned out by the material of your skirt being gathered in handfuls at your waist, his cock finding its way between your plush thighs. His larger body kept yours in place as he rutted against you, his open mouth leaking drool and milk and all the other ungodly things you could imagine onto your chest. It was embarrassing, really â just how tightly you kept your eyes shut, like a child walking through their first haunted house. Like all the bad things in the world would go away just because you couldnât see them. âFor weeks, I couldnâtâI didnât know where you were, I thoughtââ
His form jolted against yours. You felt it â a sudden, liquid heat against your thighs, a sudden tension where Suguruâs chest pressed into yours â at the same time you felt the first tear fall, searing your skin where it made contact. There was another, then yet another, before you finally realized what was happening.
Suguru was crying.
Huh.
Heâd never done that, before.
Finally, you forced yourself to open your eyes. Rather than attempting to look at Suguru, to see if his shoulders were shaking as violently as it felt like they were, your gaze moved outward, first to the bay, then to the sky â as black as spilled ink, now that the last traces of light had faded. As black as Suguruâs eyes.
You carded your fingers through his hair as he cried silently into your shoulder, never making a sound. Minutes passed before he spoke again, but you let him be the one to break the silence. âI donât get it.â You hummed, and he went on. âI donât understand why you didnât try to leave him, too.â
âI mightâve, eventually. If Iâd had more time.â
âBut you didnât.â His blunt nails bit into your waist with enough force to sting, but you didnât say anything. âI donât understand why you didnât.â
You didnât try to answer.
~
Suguru stopped at a gas station to clean himself up. You stayed in the car, clutching Himari to your chest, attempting not to flinch as her tiny hands pulled at your hair and grabbed at your skirt â searching for something to do, to entertain herself with. The rest of the drive passed in relative silence. Suguru didnât try to make conversation, and even if youâd wanted to, you wouldnât know where to start.
Finally, Suguru turned down an unpaved backroad, and far too soon, you were in front of a house you recognized. The architecture was traditional, the design compact, but you could remember Suguru saying that he and the girls didnât need much. Later on, when he decided you shouldnât be allowed to wander any farther than his line of sight during your pregnancy, heâd played with the idea of a larger property â something that could accommodate a growing family. If heâd ever had any real plans, they mustâve been abandoned after you left.
âWeâre only stopping by,â Suguru explained, as he moved to step out. You didnât wait for him this time â shouldering the door open and pulling yourself to your feet before he could decide he needed to drag you out of the car himself. âThereâs a nursery attached to the master bedroom. The girls can look after Himari while weâre gone.â
Your breathing hitched, then stopped altogether.
The girls.
Youâd managed to forget youâd have to see them, tonight. Suguru wouldâve been enough to handle on his own.
You tried to take a step back, more out of reflex than anything, but your legs were unsteady, unreliable. You stumbled, but before you could so much as start to fall, Suguru was by your side, one hand on your arm and the other underneath Himari. He started to say something, but you were faster, louder. âIâI canât. Theyâll be soâI knew you wouldnât hurt them, but I shouldnât haveââ
âTheyâll be just fine.â He wasnât crying, anymore. Instead, he took on the inflection, the stature heâd worn when you first met him â when heâd been the level-headed priest and youâd been a distraught non-believe desperate for help. If you hadnât known better, if you couldnât still see the reddened skin around his eyes, you mightâve called his composure sadistic. âAnd theyâve been waiting for you all night. Wouldnât it be cruel to disappoint them now?â
It'd be crueler to make them face the woman whoâd married their father and abandoned them without a second thought, but you doubted Suguru would agree. He was already curling his arm around yours, already guiding you towards the rustic villa. Whatever daze was keeping you from losing your mind entirely mustâve worn-off sometime during the drive. It was all you could do to keep yourself on your feet as you edged closer, closer to the front door. You were walking down the unpaved driveway, then standing on the wooden porch, and then, Suguru was ushering you inside â taking Himari out of your arms as you passed over the threshold. You didnât try to resist. He wouldnât ask the girls to hurt her, not after how long heâd spent holding the idea of a new, adorably helpless little sister over their heads, and wherever he was going to do to you after this, you didnât want Himari involved. You didnât want to give him an excuse to use her against you.
Suguru moved further into the villa, but you froze in the entryway. You could already hear the little, rushing footsteps, already picture the betrayal in their eyes, the questions theyâd ask you and the answers you wouldnât be able to give them. Theyâd hate you. They had to already hate you. You abandoned them, and they would know you abandoned them, and they wouldâ
Two arms wrapping around your legs, the force of a smaller body crashing into yours. You glanced down and found Mimiko, clinging to your waist, her face buried in the material of your skirt. She wasnât crying, but you could see her shoulders shaking, feel her nails digging into your thigh through the thin fabric. Reflexively, you reached down, resting a hand on top of her head and moving to nudge her away gently, to see if she needed help, but she only clung to you that much tighter.
Nanako was there, too, but she hadnât latched onto you. Unlike her sister, she kept her distance, hands ringing the hem of her sweater as she stared pointedly at the floor. âGeto-sama told us what happened,â she explained, while Mimiko mumbled something incoherent and affirmative into your skirt. âHe said that sorcerer â the white-haired one â took you and Himari away.â There was a pause, a quick glance in your direction. âHe promised he wouldnât let it happen again.â
Her eyes met yours, and suddenly, her nervous posture, the measured distance left between you and her â it made sense. You recognize the light in her eyes, or rather, the lack therefore.
It was the same shadow her fatherâs eyes took on, when he looked at you.
Whatever lie heâd told them, Nanako clearly didnât believe it. Mimiko â sweet and loyal and prone to holding onto the things she loved like there was someone could come and take them away at any time â wouldâve believed Suguru if he told her that world ended every time she closed her eyes, but Nanako was more pragmatic. She knew something was wrong. You doubted she would speak to you at all if she knew just how wrong, but still.
Swallowing your guilt, you lowered yourself to one knee and hugged Mimiko properly, squeezing her for one beat, then another, before letting her go entirely. Nanako was next. For all her reservations, she was running towards you as soon as you opened your arms to her, crashing into your chest and clinging to you twice as tightly as her sister had. âIâm sure he wonât,â you mumbled into her hair. And then, pulling back, âI know I was gone for a while, but itâs alright. The sorcerer Geto-sama told you about â he just wanted a little advice. He had two children he was raising all on his own, just like Geto. He heard all about how wonderful you two are, and wanted to know if I could stay and show him how to bring up the best kids in the world.â A kiss on either forehead, a thumb drawn over Mimikoâs cheeks to wipe away the tears she was frantically (and unsuccessfully) attempting to paw away on her own. âBut, although I was very flattered, I told him that I had to go home. I knew you two would be fine, of course, but letâs face it â Geto wouldnât last a day without me.â
It was your turn to pause, now, to lower your voice into something secretive. Mimiko was still sniffling, still determined to keep her face buried in her hands or your shoulder, but you made sure to meet Nanakoâs eyes, to sound as sincere as you could â even if complete honesty was beyond you, at the moment. âDonât tell Geto, but I missed you two most of all.â
Nanako looked like she wanted to say something. She almost did, too â tensing, opening her mouth, but she shut it again just as quickly, her eyes falling back to the ground in a sharp, violently narrow glare.
The pain was instant and beyond words. You wanted to pull her and Mimiko close again, to squeeze them tight and promise you wouldnât leave them, not again, to apologize when youâd inevitably have to for the sake of a sister you hadnât given them time to love. You wanted toâ
You heard Suguruâs footsteps, felt his hand on your shoulder, and every thought you mightâve had that wasnât devoted to your daughterâs well-being was gone.
Rather than embracing the girls, you drew back from them. Suguru pulled you gently to your feet, his hand falling from your shoulder to your elbow before wrapping around your wrist. âKeep an eye on your sister.â You could only be thankful there was still an ounce of warmth in his voice, as he addressed the girls. â(Y/n) and I have one more errand to run. Weâre trusting you two to look after her, until we come back.â
You mightâve added something, made sure they both knew that you really had missed them, but Suguru was already drawing you towards the door â still ajar. The last thing you saw was Nanako taking Mimiko by the wrist before the door was slammed shut, and you were left entirely alone with Suguru.
~
Of all the places you expected him to take you, his temple hadnât made the list.
His followers mustâve been sent away for the night, and the propertyâs attendants either dismissed or told to stay in their dorms. Every window was dark and shuttered, the gates locked and the doors bared. As you followed Suguru across the desolate courtyard and into the main shrine, you tried to think of places you wouldâve wanted to be taken to, but came up empty. Part of you had been expecting the cheap, equally lifeless chain motels heâd shown a fondness for during your pregnancy, or worse, the hotel where youâd spent your first night together. Another, larger, quieter part had been able to imagine him driving into the deepest, darkest forest he could find and having his monstrous spirits tear you to shreds before you could so much as scream.
His ultimate destination was far from shocking, and yet, you still felt your heart drop into your stomach as he led you into his darkened sanctuary. As if in preparation, two tapered candles had been left burning in metal trays on either side of the screen door, and Suguru took one up as he passed by. You were left to linger in the doorway as, with a surprising meticulousness, he lit the candles scattered throughout the sanctuary, casting the open space in an ebbing golden glow. When he was finished, he collapsed onto his raised dais â perched on its edge, rather than laid across it. He almost looked out of place, without his usual costume, his usual posture. He almost looked his age.
You didnât move. Running seemed impossible, but so did breaking the silence, doing anything to make yourself an active participant in Suguruâs bizarre ritual rather than a passive observer, a prop to be moved from place to place with little thought as to where you might want to be. A moment passed in silence, then another. Finally, he cracked. âSit down.â
You didnât move. âAre you going to kill me?â
He didnât react. âAll I asked you to do was sit down, love.â
âAre you going to kill Himari?â
He flinched into himself, going crooked. Something like hurt passed across his expression, as genuine as it was hypocritical.
He didnât respond, but either out of pity or remorse or a lack of anything else to do, you found yourself closing the gap between you and him, setting yourself down on the edge of his platform. Immediately, his head fell onto your shoulder, his hand to your thigh, as if he was afraid youâd leave him again if he didnât cling to you. ââŠI thought about breaking your legs,â he confessed, without prompting. âI was angry, when I realized you hadnât been taken by force. I thought Iâd be able to do it in Satoruâs apartment, leave enough blood to make him think Iâd killed you, butââ There was a pause, a slow shake of his head. âI donât know. I guess I waited too long, lost the nerve or something.â
âIâm glad you didnât.â And then, when he shifted curiously beside you, âIt wouldâve scared the girls. Theyâre already having such a hard time.â
At that, Suguru melted entirely against you. There was an airy laugh, a small sigh, and you felt his hand on your hip, his thumb drawing loose patterns into your side. âSo considerate,â he muttered, nuzzling into the dip of your shoulder. âMaybe, one day, youâll care about me like that, too.â
A knot formed in the back of your throat. It wasnât that you didnât care for him â or, that you hadnât, before he made it clear that the ways you were capable of caring for him werenât enough. If you hadnât felt anything for him, none of this wouldâve ever happened. If heâd been satisfied to let you feel the same way about him that you felt about his daughters, it would never have gotten this bad. If youâd just laid back and let him fuck you the first time heâd asked, he wouldâve lost interest in you months ago. You almost said so, too, tensed and opened your mouth and everything, but Suguru was moving before you had the chance to spit something out, his mouth crashing into yours with all the care and all the tenderness of a blunt object shattering bone. His teeth cut into your bottom lip, his body pressing into yours with enough force to throw you off balance, but his arms were already around your waist, keeping you upright. It was less that he slid off of the dais and more that he collapsed â dropping onto his knees at your feet, as little difference as it made in terms of height. He never let you stray very far, but tonight, he seemed determined never to leave more than a hairâs width of space between your body and his. His lips fell from your mouth to your neck, his hands finding their way to your hips. One darted for your neckline, but dropped back to your waist just as suddenly â all ten fingers soon burrowed into the plush of your waist.
âYour dress.â He wasnât panting, wasnât grinning, wasnât laughing. His voice reverberated dully against the base of your throat, his pointed canines scraping over your skin as he spoke. âTake it off.â
You swallowed. Normally, he preferred to undress and re-dress you himself. Youâd been scolded more than once for thinking you had any right to decide what you wore without his loving input, and when pressed, he claimed it was a show of love; proof of his dedication, his devotion.
This wasnât about love, though, or dedication, or any other flowery word heâd ever used with you.
This was about control.
Your hands shook as you raised them to the back of your dress, finding the row of corset-type strings keeping the loose material in place. You fumbled with the knot for seconds, but Suguru was patient, willing to wait until the bodice fell away from your chest entirely, pooling at your midriff. You werenât wearing a bra (again, an extremely difficult habit not to get into with a newborn at home), and one of Suguruâs hands came up, a scarred palm cupping your breast with enough force to bruise. You remembered, dimly, the time heâd spent pulled over by the side of the road earlier that day, but the memory was foggy, already so far away. You wouldnât have been surprised if all of this seemed like one hazy, distant dream by tomorrow morning.
He detached from you suddenly, pulling away and kneeling on the sanctuary floor. Rather than relief, you only felt the world distort more violently around you; your pulse slowing and your vision burning as you clumsily pushed yourself to your feet, allowing your dress to fall away entirely. You moved to sit back down, but Suguru caught you before you could â his fist wrapping around your ankle, then skirting upward, settling gingerly against your thigh as his dark, soulless eyes raked over you. His stare caught on your panties, and his expression darkened. âIâm going to kill him.â
You didnât have to ask what he meant. The pair had been Satoruâs pick; not quite a gift, but something given to you, regardless. They matched his aesthetics â needlessly detailed, smothered in lace, cast a shade of light blue so pale, it bordered on ivory. With how expensive Satoruâs tastes tended to run, you were sure the set had cost a fortune, but the priceless fabric gave away without protest as Suguru slipped two fingers under the waistband and tore. The ruined article fell away before you could so much as process that heâd moved.
Suguruâs impressive patience waned quickly. In the same motion, he pushed himself to his feet and took you into his arms, carrying you against his chest onto the dais, then to the altar pressed against the far wall. The scrolls laid across it were sent to floor with a single movement of his arm, and in the blink of an eye, you were laid across the polished wood, Suguru on his knees between your open legs. Your mouth opened, but there was no time to protest, to call out before his face was buried between his thighs, tongue lapping over the length of your slit. Still, you grit your teeth, bracing yourself to sit up, to tell him toâ
Oh.
He'd gotten his tongue pierced, sometime after you left.
He was shameless. A rounded, jeweled stud dragged over your pussy, circling your clit with no pattern or pace, no intention other than to taste you. Never content to leave you to your own devices, he kept his hands wrapped around your hips, pinning you to the surface of the altar as he tried to all-but swallow you whole. It was messy, and overzealous, and worst of all, it was good. It was a matter of seconds before a mixture of spit and arousal stained the inside of your thighs and dripped from his chin, less than a full minute before you had to concentrate just to keep yourself from squirming underneath him. Not that it wouldâve mattered, if you had. Suguru had always been playful in bed, content to milk reactions out of you with measured precision and careful vigilance, but that had been when you at least attempted to present yourself as willing. Right now, anything you mightâve felt seemed secondary to Suguruâs pleasure; satisfied groans soon joining the slick, wet noise ricocheting off the walls of his sanctuary. You dug your teeth into your bottom lip, crossed your arms over your face, but neither distraction helped to stifle the feeling of his lips latching onto your clit, suckling on it with all the care and all the delicacy of a butcherâs knife cutting into lifeless flesh. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes by the time he pulled away, but the pressure was immediately replaced by the bridge of his nose grinding harshly against the bundle of nerves, his tongue slipping past your entrance to curl against the most vulnerable parts of your cunt.
He let out another reverberating moan, and reflexively, your hand shot to the back of his head, your fingers soon tangled in his dark hair. One of his hands fell from your waist, and for a moment, you thought he was moving to pry away yours, that he didnât want you touching him. But, fortunately or otherwise, his attention wasnât on you. Instead, he reached for the elastic band holding his hair in place, pulling it out with enough force to snap the cheap plastic. You didnât realize what he was trying to do until you felt him lean into your palm, his eyes fluttering shut as he melted into the semblance of your touch.
If youâd been capable of feeling anything more towards Suguru than you already did, you mightâve found the sight pitiful.
At the moment, though, you werenât in a place to be quite so sentimental. It was all you could do to knot his hair around your fingers as you felt tight and hot form in your core, as your thighs threatened to snap shut around his head. You bit into the inside of your check with enough force to draw blood as Suguru moaned shamelessly, as he dragged you that much closer. It was too easy to forget to care whether or not heâd enjoyed it, too reflexive to gather his hair in your first and pull, to buck involuntarily into his mouth, toâ
Suguru drew back suddenly, pushing himself to his feet. Thankfully, you caught yourself before you could feel disappointment, and after a few shallow breaths, found the strength to follow his stare away from you and towards the sanctuary door. Instantly, your heart stopped beating, the blood running cold in your veins.
Satoru stood in the doorway, cast in shadow save for his bright, piercing eyes. One of his hands was still wrapped around the doorframe, while the other hung limp at his side, cupping a small, pulsing ball ofâŠÂ light?
You didnât have time to think about it. Suguru acted swiftly â pulling you into his arms and onto his lap, seating himself on the altar where youâd previously laid. âDrop it,â he said, his tone cold, cutting, not unlike an owner talking to his disobedient pet. Heâd been short with you all night, but you couldnât say heâd ever spoken to you quite like that. âBefore you do something youâll regret.â
The light dimmed before disappearing entirely, but Satoru didnât move. He didnât do anything, but you could feel it â a drop in the sanctuaryâs temperature, a change in the air pressure, something deep and intrinsic that you didnât want to be a part of. Reflexively, you tried to stand, to move, but Suguru held you tight, an arm barred over your midriff.
Despite everything, Satoru was the first to break the silence, albeit without doing anything to make that intangible tension any more bearable. âI should kill you.â
âYou should.â Suguruâs fingertips dug into your side. âThose are your orders, arenât they? Or are you going to put off delivering my head to the higher-ups for another three years?â
Whatever he was talking about, Satoru didnât seem interested in acknowledging it. âYou took my girls.â
âYou fucked my wife.â
At that, something seemed to break. Suguruâs chest pressed into your back as Satoruâs eyes shut, as he sucked in a harsh breath and broke out into a fanged grin, the sharpest youâd ever seen him wear. âYeah. Yeah, I did.â He took a step forward, all hostility gone in favor of a sort of manic, unpredictable buzz. You didnât know whether to be relieved that there was a slightly diminished chance youâd be caught in the middle of their fight to the death or terrified at the thought that they might want to do anything but tear out each othersâ throats. âI fucked her after she left you. Bet you canât stand it â knowing youâre not the only one who gets to run away.â
Suguru, for all his faults, didnât flinch. Heâd always had an even-temper at the worst of time. âWhat do you want, âtoru?â
Satoruâs stare fell away from Suguru and onto you. His expression softened, taking on an almost apologetic lilt. Almost, but not quite.
âNot much,â he admitted, with a shrug. Even from a distance, even in the dark, you could tell his nonchalance was forced. âJust to say goodbye, make sure my pretty girlâs gonna be taken care of. Gotta wrap up loose ends, nâ all that.â
Suguru, for his part, seemed far from convinced. His grip didnât loosen; if anything, he only held you closer. âAnd why should I let you?â
âBecause I love her?â And then, with another step toward the altar, âBecause you know I could wipe this building off the face of the planet, if I wanted to.â Â
Pragmatic as he was, Suguru seemed to consider it. The hand over your side flexed, a chin settling against the dip of your shoulder, and beneath you, his stiff cock pressed into your ass â either unaffected or worse, fueled on by Satoruâs interruption. You were still attempting not to dwell on the implications when Suguru responded, level-headed as always.
âIf you try anything, Iâll kill the baby.â
The second before a car crash, the spark where two wires failed to connect. For the longest time, you couldnât seem to process what heâd said or how it couldâve been so gut-wrenchingly terrible. Rather than pull away, you flattened yourself against him, glancing over your shoulder. You opened your mouth, but the ability to speak was suddenly beyond you, set deliberately out of your reach. He didnât mean it. He couldnât mean it, and yet, his expression was stoic, unchanging, the pinnacle of neutrality. There was no laugh from Satoru either, forced or otherwise. Still, he kept up his smile. As if Suguru hadnât said anything of consequence. As if either of them had any right to so much as touch your daughter.
Satoru didnât respond to the threat, nor did Suguru urge him to. Almost mechanically, Suguruâs arm fell away from your midriff, and with little more than a nudge to the back of your shoulder, you were on your feet, vulnerable and shaking on the center of the raised dais. You could still feel a mix of slick and saliva coating the inside of your thighs, and you had to swallow the urge to make a grab for your clothes, to put yourself through the humiliation of being forced to strip twice in one night.
 Thankfully, tragically, you were liberated from any illusion of free choice swiftly. Without protest from Suguru, Satoru stepped onto the dais and took you by the hand, either overlooking or failing to acknowledge the panic in your eyes in favor of intertwining his fingers with yours and squeezing gently, as if you could still believe he genuinely wanted to comfort you. Rather than pulling you into his arms, dragging you down to the floor, he looked to Suguru, cocking his head to the side. âGet up.â
Suguruâs lips quirked downward, but he obeyed, pushing himself to his feet. âHow blasphemous.â
Now, he pulled you off of your feet. In a moment, you were in his arms, and the next, you were perched on the altar, your back pressed against the wall and your legs spread around Satoruâs waist. âBlasphemous,â Satoru echoed, his voice low but plainly audible in the silence of the sanctuary. âwould be fucking the most beautiful woman in the world on the ground. Thatâs why Iâm her favorite â âcause Iâm so considerate.â
No part of you trusted Suguru. No part of you preferred Suguru to Satoru, or the other way around. No part of you thought that, unless your life or his pride was threatened, heâd ever lift a finger to help you, but you found yourself glancing toward him out of the corner of your eye, doing your best to silently communicate that you needed to get out of here. Instead of sympathy, jealousy, you only found an idle smirk, a glassy sheen over his eyes that you could only imagine youâd mirrored for most of the day. âYouâre not the one sheâs married to, idiot.â
There was a dip, a surprisingly fleeting kiss to your lips, then your jaw, then your throat. âBut she would get with me if you were out of the picture, right?â The question was punctuated with a nip to your collarbone, a hand dropped low enough to cup your pussy. The heel of his palm ground into your clit as two fingers pushed into your soaked cunt, spreading apart and scissoring you open. You tried to bow your head, to keep your eyes closed and your mouth shut, but you were still sensitive from your ruined climax, still so painfully exposed, and there was nothing you could do to bite back the cracked whines and pitiful mewls that slipped through your pursed lips. It was far from verbal confirmation, but Satoru hummed, grinned against your chest as if youâd sung his praises. âIâd get you a nicer ring, nicer house, nicer honeymoon. Always make sure youâre good nâ taken care of while Suguruâs busy playing god.â
Suguru huffed, and Satoru fell into a steady pace, adding a third digit as he carelessly fucked his fingers into your cunt. You didnât hear him move, but before you could brace yourself, Suguru was at your side, leaning onto the altar to cup your face and trace over your jaw with the pad of his thumb. âI take care of you, donât I?â You opened your mouth reflexively, ready to tell him that you were sorry, that you didnât want him to touch you, that you wanted this to stop, but he was faster than you, more malicious. His thumb was forced past your lips before you could make a sound, pressed against the flat of your tongue with just enough force for your jaw to ache in protest. âI canât blame Satoru for not being able to see that, though. Not when you treat me so cruelly.â
Cruelly. Youâd never been cruel â at least, no crueler than you absolutely needed to be to survive. You felt pins and needles prick at the corners of your eyes before you noticed your vision blurring, before tears were streaming down either side of your face in boiling tracks. Satoru purred in sympathy, falling low and nuzzling into the tender spot at the base of your throat, flicking his wrist and burying himself inside of you to the knuckle. âYou donât have to worry, I know heâs the mean one.â
He was whispering, but that didnât matter. He was too close, too awful for each word not to be absolutely deafening, for each little movement of his hand not to leave your nails scraping against the smooth wood of the altar, searching for purchase you wouldnât find. Time was moving too quickly, it had been since you arrived at the temple. You couldnât scream, couldnât pull away, couldnât breathe before Satoru pressed an open-mouthed kiss into the side of your neck and you were coming undone around his fingers, your thighs locking around his arm and keeping his digits inside of you until you could remember how to suck in a gasping inhale, until the last of the aftershocks faded and you could bring yourself to open your eyes. It wasnât until the warmth of Satoruâs mouth fell away from your neck that you noticed the strange, copper tinge spread over your tongue, that you registered the absence of Suguruâs hand against your jaw. When you thought to look in his direction, he was evaluating his own hand. A thin, red line formed a dotted ring around the base of his thumb. You mustâve bitten down, at some point.
You mustâve hurt him.
Fear drowned out any satisfaction there mightâve been. He mentioned deciding against breaking your legs, earlier; was there any chance heâd change his mind? Would Satoru be able to stop him, if he tried to hurt you? Would Satoru even want to stop him? Himari was still alone, still in danger, and you wouldnât be able to get to her if you couldnât walk. You wouldnât be able to stop Suguru fromâ
Satoru reached out, his hand curling around Suguruâs wrist and dragging it down to his height. With Satoruâs guidance, Suguruâs thumb came to rest against his bottom lip, then slipped into Satoruâs mouth entirely, his lips soon sealed around its base. There was a second or two of stillness, a swallowing-type noise too loud to ignore despite your best attempts not to hear it, and then, Suguru was pulling away and Satoruâs lips were crashing into yours.
It was strange for Suguru to be so clumsy, but you couldnât bring yourself to be as surprised by Satoruâs lack of polish. It was all you could do to choke back a renewed sob as his mouth moved against yours, as his pointed teeth ghosted over your lips and grazed the underside of your tongue. He was all instinct, no logic, and when you tried to straighten, to leave enough room between you and him to catch your breath, he only seemed to want you closer. His hands were on your waist, then your arms, then your chest, never satisfied unless he could dig his claws into the most tender parts of you, and this time, when his canines grazed over your lips, he wasnât satisfied to leave your connection at contact alone. He let out a shameless moan as he lapped at the puncture wound, warm blood leaking down your chin and pooling on your chest where it pressed into his. Again, you looked to Suguru for help, and again, you immediately wished you hadnât bothered.
He wasnât perched on the altar, anymore. No â heâd shifted, slinked, positioned himself behind Satoru where he was bent at the waist. He caught your eye as his arms snaked around Satoruâs midriff, as Satoru arched his back to better take advantage of the new contact. There was the distant, muffled sound of fabric rustling, a keening whine from Satoru, and then, Suguruâs hand was curled around Satoruâs stiff, leaking cock â pumping over the shaft while his dark eyes burned holes into yours. âGet it over with,â he muttered, the bitter sterility of his tone a sharp juxtaposition to the grin creeping across his expression. âBefore I remember why I want you dead.â
Satoru didnât have to be coaxed into compliance. No, he let himself be eased into place, let Suguru slot himself against his back as he carefully aligned Satoruâs flushed tip to your entrance. Even after heâd let go, his hands finding the edge of the altar on either side of you, Satoru failed to move on his own. You could feel him drifting from your lips to your throat, then lower â to the crook of your neck, a spot Suguruâd always favored. Vaguely, you were aware of his lips moving against your skin, of warm breath fanning over your chest and leaving frost wherever itâd touched. His voice was muffled by proximity, but whether or not you could hear him didnât really matter. You wouldâve recognized those three little words from a thousand miles away.
âI love you.â
If youâd been able to laugh, you wouldâve.
At least Satoru didnât expect you to say it back.
Suguru mustâve missed it â that, or he was beyond the point of caring. His teeth sunk into the nape of Satoruâs neck, and then, something hot and piercing was inside of you.
This time, you couldnât stop yourself from crying out. A fractured moan tumbled past your lips as Satoru immediately fell into a brutal pace; all that teasing tenderness gone the moment your pussy was wrapped around his cock. Suguru didnât pull away, but he didnât help, either; straightening his back and gazing down at you with that same foggy, absent, pleased expression. It took you a moment to put a name to it; lovestruck, all glassy eyes and hollow smiles, any anger hidden behind a thick curtain of glazed-over satisfaction. Heâd never looked away from you, but when you met his eyes, he seemed to soften even further, his shoulders dropping as he brought a hand to the small of Suguruâs back, spurring him on. âHeâs always been this bad.â  Suguru let out a keening whine into your shoulder, and Suguru chuckled airily. âLike a dog in heat. Youâd think be as desperate as one, too, but apparently, his standards are too high for him to do anything but act like a whore.â
You couldnât take it â the way Satoruâs hips crashed into yours, how his pubic bone ground against your clit, the pure venom interlaced with Suguruâs velvet-soft tone. You knew that it was useless, childish, but you couldnât swallow down the cracked sob that rose up from somewhere deep and unprotected in your chest, couldnât hold back the tears now flowing freely down your cheeks. Suguruâs smile widened, his sharpened teeth catching the dull candlelight, but Satoru was kind enough not to be so observant. His attention was dedicated entirely to fucking into you as quickly and as deeply as possible; his cock never less than half buried. You felt him twitch, and before you could hold yourself back, your hands were on his back, your nails embedded in pale skin and tearing upward every time he bottomed out and sent a new type of agony coursing through your system. âStop, stop, I canâtââ
âYou can.â Clipped, concise, dripping with stone-cold affection. Youâd be surprised if you ever heard any warmth in Suguruâs voice again. âThat is, unless youâd like to break two hearts on the same night.â
Your mouth was still open, but you couldnât answer. Satoru groaned as he rutted into you, his pace growing that much more erratic, his hips grinding into yours. He pulled you into another deep, copper-tinged kiss as he pressed his body flush to yours, as you felt something thick and hot and soul-crushingly familiar flood into you. It mightâve been the sensitivity, or the overstimulation, or the herbal stench of incense left to burn for a minute too long finally taking its toll â it didnât really matter, either way. No explanation couldâve dampened the feeling of your cunt clenching tight around him, couldâve prevented the utter desolation of cumming on Satoruâs cock.
It seemed to go on for the longest time â second after second of thoughtless, helpless pleasure, century after century of Satoru against you, edging on your climax with the occasional sharp movement from his hips, a hasty kiss pressed into the corner of your jaw. Finally, after a small eternity, the last of the aftershocks faded, unwanted bliss fading into a slow, pulsing ache settled deep into the deepest pit of your chest. You felt Satoru shift; not pulling away, but lifting himself up, bringing his mouth to the shell of your ear. âI love you,â he said, again, and then, more quietly, âIâm sorry.â
You wanted to say something, to call him a liar, to spit out every venomous and vitriolic and warranted thing you could ever say to either of them, but it was already too late. Something vital slid out of place, a poor signal finally losing connection entirely, and then, everything went dark.
~
Nine months later, youâd find yourself in Suguruâs temple again, albeit not his sanctuary. A brown-haired woman in a lab coat and several female attendants swarmed around you, pressing damp cloths to your forehead and constantly rearranging the thick quilts laid over your limp body. Dried tears formed defined tracks down your cheeks, and every part of you screamed for rest, for escape, for a quick and merciful death. It was all you could do to suck in a shuddering breath, to remind yourself that there were more important things in the world than your own well-being. Sleep could wait. This couldnât.
Slowly, you managed to turn your head towards Suguru, standing at your bedside just as he had for the past six hours. Your vision was distorted, dimmed around the edges, but it wouldâve been impossible to miss the small, white bundle in his arms, already beginning to move. You could practically taste the relief, only slightly soured by your own exhaustion. Loving Himari had been a miracle. It wouldâve been a lie to say that you hadnât expected yourself to be more callous, the second time part of you was ripped away and molded into the shape of a man you hated.
Your eyes flickered to Suguruâs expression, to those impossibly dark eyes, and instantly, your relief was replaced by pure, unadulterated dread. A smile played at the corner of his mouth, softened and careless, but⊠Oh, god.
Youâd never seen so much death in his eyes.
âSuguru.â You hadnât meant to say anything, and yet, your voice was clear â a little hoarse, but far stronger than you felt. Never looking away from the bundle, he hummed, and you went on. âCan I seeâŠ?â
âHim,â Suguru filled in, bouncing your newborn â your son, gently. âA healthy baby boy. Itâs a shame, really â I chose names with another girl in-mind.â
Thankfully, he didnât make you ask again. With no small amount of care, the bundle was placed gently onto your chest, Suguruâs hand remaining on your shoulder â as if only waiting for your limited strength to give out. It took you a long moment to brush the swaddling sheets to the swaddling blanket aside, little hands immediately reaching up to bat against your own, and another to register what you were looking at. It wasnât hard to see why Suguru was so angry.
You stared down at your son, and eyes more blue than the clearest, brightest sky stared back at you.
#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere imagines#yandere jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen imagines#yandere jjk#jjk x reader#jjk imagines#yandere gojo satoru#yandere geto suguru#geto x reader#gojo x reader
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
đđĄđ đ§đšđ«đđĄ đđđđ [gojo satoru]
synopsis: in every other universe and lifetime he has yet to lead, megumi will always cherish the painfully brief time he felt the warmth of a proper family and would have gladly referred to himself as the son of the strongest.
pairing: gojo satoru x f!reader | song inspo: chemtrails over the country club, scott street | visuals: megumiâs jacket
warnings: angst-ish, canon-compliant violence (mostly caused by our pookie wookie megumi who doesnât tolerate scumbag bullies), mentions of bullying, and possible (bc iâm delulu) character death. | a/n: i just want megumi to have one last moment with his dad please, gege, iâm on my knees here. also hehe, get the title? yaâll get it? someone please shove that arctic-haired freak to the NORTH! đ„č
Nobara Kugisaki is the classic definition of an Instagram girlie with a passion for fashion.
Honestly, she could appropriately appraise clothes without a second glance, and she could differentiate big fashion brands just by the fabric and silhouette alone even without a brand logo.
It happened on a Monday afternoon while she and Yuji were having a quick coffee in the lounge. Yuji is currently playing one of his Nintendo Switch MMORPG games that he bought from the mall last Saturday while Nobara was scrolling through her phone, swiping left as she watches her mutualsâ Instagram stories. The trio is incomplete today since Megumi mentioned heâll be running some errands with you and Satoru today.
After positively getting envious of Mei Meiâs supposed extravagant shopping trip in Ginza today, Kugisaki promptly mutes any stories from her for a full twenty four hours. Then, as she swipes left yet again, she nearly drops her phone on the ground which would pretty much set her off on a rampage because she just got its LCD screen fixed. But luckily, she holds onto it.
âFushiguro has an Instagram account?!â
Yuji himself hits pause on the game heâs playing and leans over the table to see what Kugisaki is talking about. No way. Fushiguro? That sulky, couldnât-be-bothered-to-care-but-I-actually-do-care embodiment of teenage angst having an Instagram handle? What would he even post on there?
Their questions are answered as Fushiguroâs feed pops up, and itâs filled with his pictures, but thatâs not the issue. The two dunderheads didnât seem to mind that in every photo, Megumi looked like a magazine cover boy, what caught their attention is the apparel heâs wearing.
âWhat the hell?! Heâs wearing Arcâteryx?â Kugisaki couldnât believe it. She zooms in on the candid shot of Megumi in what looks to be a ski resort and an audible gasp escapes her throat. No way. No frigging way. She does a quick image search and sure enough, she is redirected to Arcâteryxâs official website. See? Kugisaki never misses when it comes to fashion.
Yujiâs eyes nearly pop out of their sockets when he sees the price tag. âOne thousand five hundred US dollars?!â
âAnd look at this! Heâs literally tagged in Gojo and Y/N-senseiâs stories.â
Sure enough, the first they see is Satoruâs story which has a video of you picking out new clothes from the rack for Megumi to try on in the fitting room. You looked so cute and teeny tiny next to the teenager and Kugisaki giggles at the thought you walking around with two literal giants in the mall, one of them being your ward and the other, your arctic-haired husband of three years.
âThereâs another one!â Itadori says excitedly. The next is a story you took, itâs a photo of Megumi and Gojo, their backs turned and their hands fully occupied by shopping bags, seemingly unaware of the camera. In the photo, theyâre checking out new sneakers in Onitsuka Tigerâs storefront window. In a flash, Kugisaki switches off her phone, and immediately begins to head out the door. âHey, whereâre you going?â
Nobara knows that particular galleria, it should be in Tokyo Midtown. âOut, maybe I could borrow Gojo-senseiâs or Y/N-senseiâs credit card!â
âAre you sure you donât need me to come along?â
Gojo chuckles under his breath. Itâs honestly amusing how you wonât normally ask that, given his newfound title as the strongest Jujutsu sorcerer of this generation. A skirmish with a grade two cursed spirit? Pfft. Thatâs practically childâs play to your white-haired boyfriend. A rogue grade one cursed spirit that turned out to be a special grade? Maybe youâll sneak some bandages in his bag just in case. Bottom line is you wholeheartedly trust Satoru will always make it out of a mission in one piece.
But here you were seemingly more tense than usual which is incomprehensible because todayâs hardly dangerous mission is simple.
Track down the son of Toji Fushiguro.
âI think I got it, babe.â Satoru leans his head in through the rolled down car window to plant a kiss on your forehead. He pats your cheek lovingly, setting off in the direction of the house after taking one last confirmatory look at the address written down in the file sheet. âWell, letâs hope heâs nothing like his dad. Promise youâll check on me if I donât come back in an hour?â he teases.
You lightly slap his wrist. Sometimes you wonder how you fell in love with this literal man-child. Heâs just so insufferable. Gorgeous in every way but insufferable all the same. âIâm pretty sure a six-year-old boy isnât gonna try to murder you. If he does, let the record show that I sympathize with him completely.â
âYou meanie!â
Sticking his tongue out at you when you blow him a kiss, he disappears into the small street adjacent to the neighborhoodâs main road. Coming here, Satoru was uncharacteristically nervous. At the rest stop earlier, you watched the scene tensely from the convenience store window. For once, the obnoxiously loud sorcerer was quiet, hands in his uniform pockets, his cerulean orbs trained on the pavement, his foot kicking the asphalt pebbles on the ground, deep in thought.
To be honest, he had no obligation to make the journey here even if this entire affair was born from Toji Fushiguroâs final words that sounded almost like a desperate plea. âIn two or three years, my kid will be sold off to the Zenin clan. Do whatever you will with that.â Satoru doesnât know why â heâs not exactly the brightest when it comes to his interpersonal relationship skills so he could be wrong about this â but those twenty one words sounded more like four simple words: âPlease save my son.â
And so, in a matter of only thirty minutes, you spot Satoru from afar, his hand protectively around his would have been assassinâs six-year-old son as they walk back to the car. Looks like the little boy had made his choice.
And you could see with the way Satoru protectively held Megumi back from crossing the street on a green light that he has also made his choice. Just thirty minutes ago, you were bantering with the version of Satoru that would be reluctant to go out of his way to help someone, now, you were face to face with someone new, someone who has been changed almost in a blink of an eye.
Stepping out of the car, you make your way towards the pair, a faint smile on your lips at the sight of Megumiâs tiny backpack slung over Satoruâs shoulder. Your boyfriend gently nudges Megumi over in your direction, introducing him and you crouch down to meet the little boyâs hesitant eyes. âHi there, Megumi.â Your voice is as carefully gentle as a psalm, you didnât want to overwhelm him more than he probably already is. âIâm Y/N.â
âHello.â
âIce cold,â Satoru whistles, ruffling Megumiâs hair. But you figured that would be the case. A quiet breath of laughter comes from Satoru when you smile endearingly at the kidâs curtness.
As the three of you settle into the backseat, you and Satoru share a fond look when Megumi who has acted all guarded and silent the entire ride home from Chiba begins to drift off to sleep, his arms hugging his backpack but he was dangerously teetering off the seat, so Satoru gently picks him up, allowing him to lay his tiny head on his shoulder.
âHeâs gonna stick around with us for a long time, huh?â you whispered, rubbing Megumiâs back as he slept soundly in Satoruâs arms, the three of yu blissfully unaware of just how much your life has changed. You came to Chiba and there was only you and Satoru, now, you were three. And though you know Satoru doesnât intend to step in as a guardian, you could tell he was slowly settling into the inevitability of that fact. This boy needed a new start, a home, and people to guide him as he grew.
ââŠYeah, he will,â Satoru answers, his eyes filled with wonder himself. Earlier when he first met Megumi, he told him to become strong enough to keep up with him.
But for now, maybe this was enough.
For the most part, Megumi is a good kid.
He diligently helps you with the housework without needing to be told twice the same way he diligently trains under Gojoâs tutelage. He studies hard despite only being in primary school, and heâs well-mannered in every wayâŠat least to you, the kid wonât pass up the opportunity to scowl and call Satoru a lanky freak when heâs being pestered by him.
Because heâs so young to be sleeping in Tokyo Jujutsu Highâs dormitories, you and Satoru settled into the idea of renting an apartment near the campus premises. Since you and Satoru are eighteen years old now, it was high time that the two of you start growing into your roles as functional adults which means leasing an apartment, paying the bills, growing your careers and taking your relationship to the next level.
Of course, you and Satoru both piled in cash when it comes to raising Megumi. Satoru mostly shouldered rent, monthly utilities and Megumiâs tuition, being a rich guy like him, those were practically small beans to him. You, on the other hand, shouldered the groceries, Megumiâs clothes and other needs.
One day, while on your way to pick up Megumi, you pass by the trendy Daikanyama district due to a road closure leading to the Ebisu district where Megumiâs primary school is. The inconvenience is nothing short of serendipitous as you and your boyfriend really did need a quick breather and some time for yourselves.
âI feel like Iâm gonna turn into a wine dad very soon. Who would have known enrolling a kid would be that tough?â Satoru huffs, his hand protectively around your waist as you walked past boutique after boutique. âLike how am I supposed to know what his blood type is for the school clinic record?â
You hummed, sneakily stealing a kiss from him to which he responds to by pulling you closer, and pretending to bite off your ear. âFor all the school knew, Megumi is ours. That would explain why they felt a little icky towards us when they saw how young we are back in that parent-teacher meeting.â
âMmph, fair point. A cute son will come from a handsome father after allââ
ââOh please. Youâre okay at best.â
âYou didnât say that last night when I had you all foldeââ
ââPlease do not finish that sentence in public.â
Digressing, Satoru sighs, planting a contrite kiss on your warm cheek as the two of you leisurely walk down the picturesque lane of Tokyoâs very own version of Soho. Once you reach the main road, a certain outerwear apparel store catches your eye. You stop in front of the store window, looking curiously at the displayed winter items. âMegumiâs birthday is coming up soon, no? We should get him something nice.â
âHmm? Oh right, the 22nd is coming up,â Satoru hums thoughtfully, leading you inside the store. There, the two of you split up to look for a nice gift for Megumi. There, he is approached by a staff member who asks if heâs looking for anything in particular. Satoru clears his throat, nodding. âIâm looking to buy a gift for my son.â
Somehow, you heard that from across the store and you shoot Satoru an amused look when he refers to Megumi as âhis sonâ.
âRight, and how old might he be? We have a batch of new arrivals that came in today. Theyâre perfect for kids aged four and above.â At that, you rejoin Satoru and the sales staff leads you to check out the items at the front of the store. You and Satoru sort through the rack and find one that the two of you agree on: a fleece two-toned gravel winter jacket.
After paying for it, the two of you rush to get to Ebisu elementary school. Making your way to the gate, Megumi instantly spots you and Satoru, the latter being very difficult to miss since he pretty much towered over everyone else.
âHi, kid, dâyou have fun today?â you crouch down to give Megumi a hug. Between you and Satoru, you were the more clingy one towards Megumi, thereâs hardly any hesitation in your heart when you pull him in for a warm embrace or carry him in your arms. Luckily, he didnât seem to mind one bit, but if Satoru did any of the those things to him, heâll probably headbut him.
âIt was fine,â Megumi says shyly once you pull away. âOh and I got a hundred on the math homework you helped me with.â
âYou did?â you smiled. âIâm so proud of you, Megumi.â Satoru smiles, going to ruffle Megumiâs hair only for the little boy to duck away from his hand and hide behind you.
Chuckling at the kidâs antics, Satoru concedes, putting up his free hand in surrender while his other one held onto the gift bag you got. Megumi reads the name of the store: âThe North Faceâ. Following Megumiâs gaze, Satoru grins, handing Megumi the bag. âHere, we got you something. Call it an advanced birthday gift.â
Megumiâs expression screamed: âYou didnât have to.â but you donât miss the look of surprise and gratitude that shined through his features. You gently nudge him to open it and his breath hitches in his throat when he sees the gift you got him â the first gift heâs ever received.
âHappy birthday, Megumi,â you and Satoru greet the little boy, with Satoru helping Megumi to try it on.
That was the first time Megumi initiated a heartfelt hug and the first time he ever included Satoru, his little arms trying their hardest to include the two of you, so you decide to help him out, and your and Satoruâs arms engulf the little one.
âThank you.â
âI donât know what happened, but Iâm headed there now. Alright, see you soon. I love you.â
Everything happened so quickly. One minute you were in Tokyo Jujutsu Highâs teacher lounge organizing the first yearsâ missions for the next few days when you receive a call from Ebisu elementary school, informing you that Megumi got into a horrible fight and was now in the school clinic ready to be picked up, the next you were dashing out the door hurrying over to the school with your heart pounding in your chest.
There, you are the quintessential picture of a frazzled mother looking for her son in the school clinic.
âY/N!â
âMegumi,â you breathed, your eyebrows knitting together in worry. Gathering him into your arms, you sit on the tiny hospital bed. âWhat happened? They said you got into a fight? And whereâs your jacket?â He was wearing the jacket you got for him this morning when you and Satoru dropped him off, actually, heâs been wearing it a lot, indicating itâs one of, if not his favorite jacket.
Before Megumi could even speak, it looks like the kid that he got into a tussle with had already tattled on him to his mother and now said mother is furiously berating you and Megumi, not caring if anyone else in the clinic could overhear the scandalous remarks sheâs throwing your way.
âI want full disciplinary action against this boy!â the middle aged woman all but screeches to the schoolâs principal, pointing an accusatory finger at Megumi who doesnât flinch but you hear him sniffle. Heâs never been yelled at like that before.
âMaâam, please, letâs settle this like two rational adultsââ
ââOh I will, I canât say the same about you! Are you not the least bit ashamed that you couldnât teach your son good morals?â She then theatrically goes to place her hands on her sonâs shoulders. And you have to be honest, with that bruised lip of his alongside his bleeding nose, Megumi had done some serious damage to the boy.
âI â Megumi is a good kid, not once, have we ever seen him hit someone for no reasonââ
ââSo youâre saying itâs my sonâs fault yours is emotionally unstable? This boy doesnât need a good talking to, what he needs is psychological intervention!â
âAlright, can everyone just please calm down?â The principal, too, seems visibly uncomfortable with the vile words the other parent was spewing at you like machine gun fire. âWeâre all here to fix the problem, not make it worse.â
Pinching the bridge of your nose, you could tell this conversation has reached an impasse. Clearly, thereâs no way you could reach a mutual understanding of what should be done to resolve the issue.
The older woman looks at you in disdain, grumbling under her breath at the humiliation of being scolded, âWhat should I even expect from an irresponsible woman who got knocked up before she was even an adult?â
âDonât you dare talk about my wife or my son that way.â
Megumi looks up, tears in his eyes when Satoru strides in, his normally shining blue eyes dark with a fury that cannot be quelled. You canât even feel the butterflies that went wild in your stomach when he accidentally referred to you as âhis wifeâ without so much as a stutter because youâre honestly this close to chewing the vile woman out. It didnât matter if she insulted you, but if she does so much as insult and make your boy cry, you and Satoru will give the weasel a matching patch on her scalp where there should have been hair had you not ripped it out.
But now was not the time to prove her right.
People have always judged you and Satoru for being acting parents at such a young age, often giving you rude stares when youâre out and about doing the most menial of things like shopping at the supermarket or spending some time in the kĆen, people found your current situation disgusting, borderline immoral, which is why you initially had trouble looking for an elementary school that would properly entertain you, Satoru and Megumi and not dismiss you three as a bunch of kids playing house.
âSatoruâŠâ you rub your boyfriendâs arm soothingly.
âBabe, she insulted you and âGumi,â Satoru whispers sadly. âI canât just let her do that.â
All of a sudden, Megumiâs voice cuts through the tension in the room. âDaisuke was being mean. He ruined Hana-chanâs project and made her cry.â At that, the kid named Daisuke bites his lip, his skin turning pallid at the revelation. âAnd when I told him to apologize, he and KaitoâŠâ Megumi whimpers, trailing off. He averts his gaze from your and Satoruâs, feeling guilty.
And right then and there, the story becomes even clearer when an unexpected witness comes to Megumiâs defense.
âMegumi-kun? We found your jacket, itâs not too damaged, but you may want to have your mama and papa wash it when you get home.â The school nurse walks in and hands you the ruined jacket, it had been cut all over but since itâs fleece, the damage isnât too bad, not only that, it had crayon marks all over it and it smelled of the dumpster.
ââŠDaisuke and Kaito ruined my jacket and I punched him,â Megumi sniffles. âIâm sorry.â He wasnât apologizing for punching Daisuke, that much you could tell, he was apologizing to you and Gojo for supposedly not taking care of the gift you two got him just last week.
The vile mother scoffs at your sonâs apology. âSave your breath, you little liarââ
ââHe wasnât talking to you,â Satoru glares at the woman, effectively shutting her up. âCome on, weâre going home.â With that, Satoru, being careful with him given his sprained wrist, carries Megumi out the clinic. You offer the principal a polite nod, indicating that youâll cooperate with any sanction she seems fit for Megumi, Kaito and Daisuke, before following Satoru and Megumi to the parking lot. A melancholic smile appears on your lips when you hear Satoru reassuring Megumi that youâll just wash and mend the jacket once you get home to which, Megumi only buries his face in the crook of his father figureâs neck.
If there is one good thing that happened today, itâs the fact that you proved to yourself and to each other that, no one in this world is allowed to hurt or insult your family.
Satoru wakes up to an empty bed and he doesnât pretend to wonder where you are. He stays like that for a full minute, simply staring at the ceiling while your side of the bed slowly loses its warmth. He knows youâre hurting, and he knows just how much this entire ordeal has taken from you. First, you had to deal with him being sealed in the Prison Realm, now thisâŠ
You really just couldnât catch a break, could you?
Slowly, Satoru gets up and pads across the hallway, entering a painfully familiar room. The owner of the room has only since recently moved out, but for ten years, this room is one he normally frequented with you, whether it be on Christmas mornings to greet the little prince that occupied such a special place in your heart or on nights when the three of you just simply needed to hold each other, searching for comfort, while you slept.
The door creaks open and Satoruâs eyes well up with tears, his heart plagued by the same emotional turmoil that was haunting you day in and day out. âI just want our boy to come homeâŠI want our son back,â you cried as you held the jacket Megumi had outgrown, the same one he wore almost everyday that winter when he first came to live with you and Satoru.
Instantly, Satoru sits next to you on Megumiâs bed, hushing your cries, kissing away each agonizing tear that slipped from the confines of your sorrowful orbs.
âHe must be so scared,â you sniffled, picturing Megumi in the darkest crevices of Sukunaâs soul, trapped and alone. âI donât even know if heâs alright, if heâs even slept at all or if heâs being tormented by Sukuna day in and day out. What if heâs in pain? What if heâs cold?â you sobbed into your husbandâs chest, your cries growing more desperate with each hour Megumi isnât home safe.
âShh, shhâŠI know, sweetheartâŠIâll get him back, I promise Iâll bring him home.â
Or heâll die trying.
Somewhere in the void, Megumi Fushiguro is in a state of catatonic stasis. Is this what limbo feels like? He just wants to sleep, to give in and let Sukunaâs soul consume him.
Itâs so coldâŠsoâŠcold.
No! He canât give up, more than his desire to tap out and just live and let dieâŠhe wants to go home where he belongs.
You and Satoru must be so worried about him and he was worried too, what if something had happened out there while he was here? What ifâŠsomething happened to the two of you when he hasnât even done a thing to thank you both for all the love youâve given him throughout these years? So with his last inch of consciousness remaining, he spends it on a silent plea.
âMomâŠdadâŠplease come find me.â
#gojo headcanons#gojo satoru headcanons#gojo satoru x reader#jjk gojo#gojo x reader#jujutsu gojo#gojo satoru#gojou satoru x reader#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#gojo satoru x y/n#gojo satoru x reader angst#gojo angst#gojo satoru angst#jjk angst#jjk drabbles#jjk imagines#jjk headcanons#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader angst#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen angst#megumi angst#megumi fushiguro#megumi fushiguro angst#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x you#gojo x reader angst#gojo satoru x you#gojo x y/n angst
995 notes
·
View notes
Text
link
#@storefronts.japan#Sugamo#Tokyo#japan#æ„æŹ#jp#explore japan#ilovejapan#igersjp#instajapan#urban#shop#street#city#streetphotography#urbanandstreet#architecture#storefront#discover japan#urban explorer#japantravelphoto#japan travel#japanđŻđ”#streetshot#sugamo
77 notes
·
View notes
Text
ê§â
ê§
276 notes
·
View notes
Text
Valentine's Day Special(JJK One shot)
Warnings: None other than Female Reader, and Domesticity with Toji, Megumi, and Tsumiki
Pairing: Toji x Fem!Reader
Wanted to write something for Valentine's Day. So I wrote one for Toji, I may or may not write one for Satoru but we'll see.
Man has never done shopping for anyone before in his entire life. Now itâs Valentineâs Day and he has gotten nothing for youâŠyet. Well, Toji is trying to think of something but the problem isnât that he couldnât afford it⊠Toji hasnât didnât know what to get you because you never ask. You were appreciative of his gifts and gestures but never dropped any hints for anything.
âToji, Honey, the best gift you gave me is this life with you, Megumi, and Tsumiki. I donât think there could be any better gift for me than that.â
God, you were the sweetest, loving, and humbling wife to him. He wonders every day why the hell you chose him out of everyone you could have. But thatâs the thing, you never wanted anything else no matter how much he pressed you on. And everytime itâs the same answer. Toji has looked at your phone, pinterest boards, instagram likes, anything you saved in any carts on your favorite websites, photos/screenshots.
Nothing
It frustrated him that he was having a difficult time. He is your husband and the father of your two children who take after you. He was supposed to know your interests, hobbies, and likes. And yet nothing was coming to him. You said you already have everything and donât buy something for yourself unless you need it and/or use it often. Sometimes reprimanding Toji for buying you things when he should be saving money. Toji knows youâre working overtime today and won't be home until 6:30pm. He has until then to get you something. Walking along streets of Tokyo, he sees the storefronts littered with red, white, and pink. Bakery displays filled with heart shaped pastries and desserts. Tojiâs mind was drawing blank, nothing seemed to spark an idea in him. He wanted to get you something because you are and deserve the best, the best thing to ever happen to him. He knows heâs not the ideal man when you both got together but he changed for you. Bringing the worldâs end if you simply asked him.
With a frustrated huff, he rubs his forehead. Now seeing himself as the number one most disappointing husband ever. He was tempted to call your friend to ask what he should get you when something caught his eye. Stopping in his tracks, he stares at the window of a jewelry store. Particularly, he was staring at one of their displays which laid a sterling silver necklace with a heart-shape locket. It was both simple yet beautiful. The longer he stares, the image of you wearing it becomes stronger. You would look so perfect wearing it that became you will look perfect wearing it. Toji goes to buy it and the lady helping him asks what photo he wanted to put inside. He immediately pulls up the one he wants, sending it for her. She smiled and said it would take a couple of minutes to get the necklace ready. So Toji wastes no time using that to get your favorite flowers and any baked goods. Coming back, the necklace was ready and he paid it off immediately. Silently thanking Shui for getting him a good cheek from his last assignment.
He briskly makes his way to pick up Tsumiki and Megumi from school where they had their own gifts for you. As soon as they all got home, Toji starts cooking dinner while the kiddos help put the flowers in your favorite vase. On the dot, you got home at 6:30pm. You make your presence known, albeit exhaustedly. The rapid footsteps your way makes you smile as your children rush in to give you a hug. You gently hugged them back before they started pulling towards the kitchen. A soft chuckle left you while watching Megumi and Tsumiki force you to hurry up.
âHey, Hey~ What is it you two want me to see? Mama is right behind youâ Whatâs this, Toji?â
There was more food on the table than your usual family dinner. Your husband just smirks at you while Megumi pulls your designated chair out for you. You thanked your son with a kiss to his forehead before he sat next to Tsumiki.Â
âJust a little something for Valentineâs Day, (Y/N). Wanted to treat you since you worked late.â Toji said with soft eyes, tenderly kissing your cheek.
As always, the food was exquisite and tasted like love was poured into it. The kids ate their dinner fast, confusing you as they scurry off after cleaning up after themselves. When they come back, a loving smile spreads across your lips. Hand placed over your heart as you coo at the sight. Tsumiki was bringing the vase with your favorite flowers while Megumi brought their gifts for you.
âWhat do we have here? Did you two pick these out with Papa?â
They lightly shook their heads as you placed the vase at the tableâs center.
âNo, only Papa did. But Megumi and I made these for you, Mama! You can open them!â Tsumiki excitingly with his signature bright smile.
You move towards the couch with the kids as they give your gifts to them. Taking this opportunity, Toji slips away to get his. He sneaks up on you as his towering frame blocks the roomâs light. Toji gets on one knee in front of you as he hands you a red bag. Curiously, you take it from him and retrieve the small velvet box from inside. Tsumiki and Megumi lean in to see what it is once you open it, hearing a small gasp from you. The necklace was simple and seemingly plain but it was demure. Taking it out, you let it hang before noticing the small hedges on the side. Your fingers swiftly opened the locket and whatâs inside made your heart melt.Â
Inside was a family picture of your small family. Everyone was smiling, including your husband. It was one of your favorite pictures because of that. Next to it were words engraved into the inside of the half of the locket. Once you read whatâs engraved, tears started to trickle down. The words that brought you to tears:
âThank you for loving me and being youâ ~Toji
You looked up at him with love and appreciation, eyes softening seeing him deflate while taking your hands gently into his. His eyes were unwavering but sincere, already telling you everything you needed to know.
âI know you never ask for much, (Y/N). But I couldnât help but get it for you. Iâm god awful when it comes to words and Iâm not the perfect man by any means. But Iâm the man you chose to give your heart to and I will bring the Heavens down if you tell me to do so. All because I love you, (Y/N). Iâm your husband, Iâm all yours, Dear. Happy Valentineâs Day.â
You knew Toji wasnât the most open man or prince charming by any means. But he was loyal, dedicated, supportive, and endearing. He was a loving husband and father to you and your children, a blessing you were grateful for every day because he gave you this opportunity and you were living it out. For him to speak his heart and leave it vulnerable for you, he really does love and trust you dearly. Thatâs why you never wanted to ask him for gifts or anything because Toji was a gift to you by some divine intervention.
You launch yourself at Toji, causing him to fall on his back. Wrapping your arms around his neck tightly was all Toji needed to get your answer. He lays there with you in his arms before Megumi and Tsumiki decide to make it a family pile. The kids giggle as he captures them with his strong arms, sitting upright bringing you with him. The kids look in awe at your necklace with Megumi happily commenting that he and Tsumiki are also in there. While the kids are excitingly distracted, you look up at Toji and caress his cheek. Gently tracing over his small scar with your thumb.
âI love you, Toji.â
He gives a soft smile and leans into your touch while grasping your hand with his own.
âI love you too, (Y/N).â
And this is one of many Valentineâs Days to come where you were more than willing to let Toji indulge and spoil you. Every one of them is always wonderful because Toji gets to spend it with the woman he gave his heart to and you are reminded your best gift you ever got was Toji himself.
#x reader#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#reader insert#toji fushiguro#toji x reader#fem reader#jjk fluff#jjk#megumi fushiguro#fushiguro tsumiki#toji fushiguro x reader#toji x you#jujustsu kaisen x reader#x female reader#x fem!reader#mama!reader#wife reader#x reader fluff
310 notes
·
View notes
Text
With the internet coming to Inaba and a little bit of that special Rise sparkle- Teddie found his success in crafting and selling designer glasses. Teddie has a workshop/storefront nestled in the heart of Inaba's shopping district- where he relishes in his newfound "designer" & "exclusive" nature and spends his time working at his one-of-a-kind specs. While he tends to skew twards more prestigious clients- he's always happy to do a custom set for his beloved friend, Nanako! He makes sure to give each pair with a little bit of that extra Teddie magic... which may be the unexpected edge needed while navigating the midnight trains. He has also taken on Ren as his sole employee- as he seems to be the only one who applied with a steady enough hand. He knows Ren from before he went to Tokyo- as he had come to his store to purchase his glasses.
anyway I couldn't get this out of my head hmhmhmhm
#Eek a white guy!#Teddie Kumada#Back 2 Inaba#digit's art tag#p4 teddie#im sorry he has an undercut because of course he does#screams#Digit's P5R Tag
119 notes
·
View notes