#yan! gojo

[xileonaaaa]

Thinking about Yandere Gojo

*He isn’t violent or forceful

He would be the type to fall for you, but in the all the wrong ways. Unlike a normal person, once he figures out his true feelings, he would probably start to notice just how many other people were looking at you the exact same way he was.

He��d probably feel a little outmatched at best.

To you, he seemed like his normal goofy self, but the second you glance away from him, you fail to notice the immediate drop in that signature toothy grin that he always wore.

He wouldn’t act out, not even when another man or woman gets too close or touchy with you. He’d just simply watch, and laugh it off. Part of this being that he can’t even decipher what he’s feeling for you.

He’d continue denying his dark, and overwhelming feelings until they bubble over and amount to a huge mess, or what he’d call a masterpiece.

That’s when things would really start to go downhill for you.

He’d keep up the act of being your trusty, strong sorcerer coworker, while renovating his home to accommodate for you.

You probably wouldn’t even know what was going on underneath that blindfold of his whenever he’d look at you.

He would be patient, and bide his time. Waiting for the perfect opportunity to snatch you up, and take you “home”.

He’d conjure up the most intricate lie to cover for your sudden disappearance, and him being the best there is, would force everyone to believe him. Not everyone did though, and he took notice of that, but he still played the part, effortlessly.

You’d understandably be angry at him for taking your life away from you, but he’d be patient, and caring. Maybe overly caring.

He’d keep you chained up in his basement that he’d converted into a comfy living space for you, and would spend time down there whenever he could.

You’d never be happy to see him, but that was okay. He was content on just listening to you hurl insults his way. After all, you were safe from prying eyes now, all his to love, and no one else’s. He had all the time in the world to win you over.

One thing that probably unnerved you the most was the fact that he never seemed to get angry at you. No matter what you did, or tried to do. He never yelled at you or hit you, or even so much as touched you.

He’d hug you, or hold your hand if you let him, but that was as far as things ever went. It was understandably confusing to you, because who in their right mind would act the way he does?

There were times you’d punched him, kicked him, scratched him, and even tried to stab him once, but to no avail. He’d just simply sigh, and trudge over to your small bathroom to patch himself up, and he was back at your side in a matter of minutes.

***

You’d begun to loose track of time when you first started to notice it. How he’d sometimes come down stairs into the basement, long after he’d said he was going to bed, and just shuffle his way over to your bed. He’d lay with you sometimes, and others he’d just stand there for a moment, before leaving, and heading back upstairs.

You never questioned it, nor even bothered to bring up his weird behavior, despite how open and accepting he was. You figured it was just him being paranoid that you’d found a way to escape, and was just checking to make sure your restraints were still in place, but that all changed one night.

You were still up after he’d gone to bed, and opted to just quietly read the latest manga he’d brought to your room from his trip in Tokyo. You were engrossed in a page, when you felt yourself jolt at the sound of the basement stairs creaking under someone’s weight.

You initially scrambled to turn off the lamp, and hide your manga, but you ultimately froze when you caught sight of his lean figure standing tall in the darkness. You stared on in silence, trying your best to make out his figure in the pitch blackness of the basement, before he began moving forward. Your smart mouth actually shut up for once, and you looked on as he inched closer, and closer to you.

Once he literally hovering above you, you could see his chest heaving, and the once light grey t-shirt he’d worn to bed, was now drenched in what you guessed was sweat. His hands were trembling ever so slightly, and almost all at once he fell to his knees. In the dim light provided by the bedside lamp, you watched on as he shuddered violently, and filled you in on how he’d always been struggling with nightmares.

You don’t know if it was pity, or just confusion, but you helped him shred his sweat drenched shirt, and moved over on your bed. It was the first time you’d ever done something like this, albeit without the idea of harming him in mind.

You knew it was probably something serious when he didn’t question your intentions, desperately crawling in bed with you, and nuzzling your stomach as he wrapped his sticky arms around you waist.

He was shivering all over, and you found the more affectionate you were towards him, the more he just seemed to melt under your touch. He was fast asleep in no time.

You weren’t sure why, but you ended up falling asleep too, not feeling disgusted by him in the slightest. Maybe you realized that through all he’d done, he was still human.

[vrisrezis]

Imagine dealing with yan Gojo AND Geto... One hyperactive kid and one that somehow u share home with

Bro shit is crazy the only reason i can see them sharing u is cuz they’re so close (and they probably like eachother as well) honestly both yans are very possessive and jealous when it comes to their love. However I think they can actually calm eachother down very well. I think geto is always good at calming down gojo whenever he’s being jealous and causing a scene, (you might be as well but if you’re not accommodating to him…) geto always tries to get you two to come to a compromise.

But when geto is jealous gojo is just like “see.. this is why y/n loves me more..:)” but teasing aside he is so confident in your guys relationship so he’s just like “it’s fine! Why would y/n ever betray us? We’re the best thing they’ll ever get.”

So yea generally speaking I think they help eachother out a lot when they’re being jealous of others but … when they’re jealous of eachother … watch out bruh 😭

[theinnerunderrain]

yan! Gojo sketch bc I can’t think of anything to write guys

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

YOU’RE AN ANGEL, I’M A DOG ; SATORU GOJO

synopsis; an upcoming exam has been stressing you out, and satoru’s pleas for you to take care of yourself fall on deaf ears. he takes matters into his own hands.

word count; 4.3k

contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, yan!gojo, as far as yanderes go he’s very mild i think (im sensitive u can trust me!!), mentions of blood, implied murder (not depicted!!), he threatens your professor w a knife lol, surprisingly fluffy??, gojo is soooo lovesick & smitten, he just wants his baby to live a happy life :( is that so wrong :((, also your parents love him <33 and he calls you honey <333 ideal man.

a/n; i blacked out & when i woke up this was in my drafts… mysterious. @kissxcore here u go alexis <33 one very smitten morally gray yan!gojo just for u!! i completely lost the plot halfway through but i had a lot of fun writing this!! :33 i don’t dabble in yan content at all so it was a fun lil challenge hehe, i hope it ended up . Somewhat .. decent…

satoru thinks you deserve everything good.

”haah…”

— the sigh spills into the air, like a dot of ink on paper, dripping with exhaustion; a palpable fatigue that has his heart clenching beneath his ribs.

just as he feared, you’re here. again. seated on the couch, in the living room, legs crossed and framed by flimsy strings of moonlight; illuminated only by the dim light of the laptop in front of you. carding through your hair, blinking sluggishly.

another sigh. deep, exasperated, from satoru this time. he keeps a single hand on his hip, brows furrowed in soft disappointment. 

”honey… what do you think you’re doing?”

you jolt, the sudden sound breaking you out of whatever trance you were previously in. when your gaze flits to his, craning your head to see him rest against the wall leading up to your bedroom, he thinks you look a little like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

it makes him smile. despite his disapproval.

”ah — satoru! it’s… um.” a moment passes. he can practically see the gears of your mind turning, searching for a good excuse. ”… not what it looks like?”

he clicks his tongue. ”nice try.”

then he’s walking towards you, in long strides, gliding across the room like a butterfly in search of nectar. from the sweetest flower there ever was.

even when said flower is still awake, past midnight, pulling an all-nighter despite his frequent advice not to. his very frequent, very thoughtful advice not to strain yourself until you just about pass out.

but you just won’t listen.

”’m disappointed in you, baby,” he huffs, just playful enough to ward off any genuine feelings of distress. he could never truly be disappointed in his baby. ”what did we say about studying this late, hm?”

a sheepish chuckle slips past your lips. satoru is standing in front of you, hands on his hips, raising a questioning eyebrow as you squirm. lighthearted, yes, but genuine. it makes you feel a little guilty.

”… sorry,” you breathe, closing the lid of your laptop. knowing he won’t let you stay up any longer. with the loss of light, your face becomes shrouded in darkness. ”just can’t sleep when i’m so stressed.”

at that, satoru makes a tiny noise — something worried, a little sad, from the base of his throat. a soft frown finds its way onto his lips, and he blinks the sleep away from his senses. plopping down beside you.

”i know. i’m not trying to lecture you,” he croons, reaching out to cradle the apple of your cheek. you melt into him like molten honey, easy and sweet. ”just worried. know you’re stressed.”

and he does. he does know — it’s all he’s been able to think about, these past few weeks. to his dismay, he’s even begun to grow used to this sight, used to finding you in the midst of working yourself to exhaustion. fighting the urge to sleep, slumped over your desk, or cooped up on the couch. staring into your laptop like it holds the secrets of the universe.

time and time again, he’s told you to take care of yourself. tried to coax you into relaxing, rubbing your sore shoulders and kissing the puffy skin beneath your eyes. but this exam is important — you’ve told him as much, more times than he can count. he doesn’t doubt that you’re right. 

of course you’d be stressed. he gets it.

still, though.

”but you know it’s not good, yeah? that it’ll just burn you out?” his thumb goes to smooth over the dark crescents beneath your eyes, gentle as a feather. ”we don’t want that, do we?”

you bite your lip. trapping it between your teeth. he knows you know. ”… yeah,” you admit, a flimsy little sigh on your tongue. ”it just feels easier to do this at night. don’t know why.”

”my little night owl.”

that makes you smile, a little, but it’s not enough to satisfy him. he curls an arm around your waist, and drags you into his lap; gentle, always gentle, like all that exists under your skin is made of porcelain. like the lines of your face form a string of words, a label of fragile: handle with care. he always does.

with his heartbeat by your ear, his warmth melting into yours, it’s easier to speak. a pressure on your chest that fades away. ”i’ll try not to do it again,” you murmur, biting back a soft yawn. nuzzling into his neck. ”promise. don’t wanna worry you…”

satoru softens. 

(always so good to him.)

”it’s fine, honey. i understand.” he smiles, smoothing down your spine, counting the bumps of vertebra that slide along his palm. ”don’t worry that pretty little head of yours over me, alright?”

in return for his comfort, you wriggle away, lifting your head to give him a smile. one of your many smiles, each one fervently cherished by him; the one you’re wearing now is tired, a soft curl of your lips, the kind that makes him want to lull you to sleep. just the sight alone makes the anxiety in his veins feel like a worthy investment.

he doesn’t tell you anything that could cause that joy to diminish. doesn’t tell you that he can’t sleep without you, that he can barely breathe knowing you’re this stressed all time. doesn’t tell you that he jolted awake with a sinking feeling of dread, a gaping pit in his stomach when he didn’t immediately feel the warmth of your skin against his. doesn’t tell you that he always, always assumes the worst.

satoru doesn’t tell you these things. it’s a safety measure, an act of love. a bundle of unvoiced syllables, woven into white lies, silky and sweet. tailor-made to put your aching mind at ease. 

satoru thinks you deserve everything good.

it’s a theory, of sorts, a train of thought. a hypothesis made manifest. after many years of pondering, he’s arrived at the following conclusion; you are all that’s good. therefore, it only follows that you deserve everything that’s good, all of it and more. satoru believes you deserve every single thing your little heart desires — and he’s determined to give it to you.

so he’s been worried.

it’s not that he doesn’t trust you. he knows you’ll ace the exam, knows you’ll do your very best, knows you’ll make him proud. you always do. you aren’t the problem, no, never.

he just doesn’t trust your professor. 

that unfair, stuck-up, incompetent professor who’d fail his students just for being a couple minutes late, who curates his exams to be as convoluted as humanly possible. you and your friends are starting to suspect he just likes berating people for a living. satoru knows it all, he’s heard it all, of course he has. satoru pays attention to everything, when it comes to you. he knows all about your professor, the man who’s been making your studies pure hell for the past semester.

it makes his blood boil. steady, ruminating, hot and heavy in his veins. a rivulet of lava.

(it was only a matter of time.)

satoru is a teacher too; he knows that type. one that has no business being a teacher, in the first place, one no student deserves to be subjected to. he’s met more of them in his career than he could even begin to count. the thought of one of his own students being at the mercy of someone so incompetent makes his skin itch.

and the thought of you, seated on the couch, crying and sniffling when he comes home because none of the exam questions made enough sense for you to even try —

it makes satoru want to claw his skin off.

it makes that tiny, tiny cavern in his heart extend, widen, like a maw, swallowing up his liver and lungs and sense of morality. an emptiness begging to be filled. 

there’s only one way to satiate it.

so he plants a wet kiss on your forehead, ruffles your hair, tucks you into bed and waits until you fall asleep. deep and heavy, a slumber you won’t wake up from anytime soon. he presses his lips to your forehead one more time — for good measure.

then he grabs his coat and slips outside.

the moon is visible through the window.

a thin crescent, nailed next to the dim stars, leaking a dream-like fluorescent shine; illuminating the office, so quiet he can hear those erratic breaths spill out, one by one. a heavy, heavy silence, thick enough to spread like butter over toast. 

(ah, that’s right — he forgot to buy the butter you asked for this morning. no wonder he feels so out of sorts. he’ll have to grab it on his way back.)

”who… w — what are — ?”

satoru stays silent. lips pursed, eyes keen, burning into the back of the man in front of him. close, almost chest to back, enough to have him scowling in displeasure. 

just being in his presence makes satoru feel a little sick. 

he keeps the blade pressed right beneath his adam’s apple, a silver glimmer in an office painted blue and gray. not enough to sink into his skin, but enough to have his heartbeat hammering, enough that satoru can practically feel those rapid flutters of life. brushing against his gloved hand.

he gets straight to the point. voice muffled by the fabric covering his mouth, low enough that it’s barely even audible. he’s careful, about this kind of thing. there’s a delicacy to the ill intent, something he’d be a little enamored with if it weren’t for the compass stuffed into his ribs — the compass that tells him this is wrong.

he just can’t bring himself to care.

”the upcoming exam.” his voice sends a shiver down the man’s spine. satoru can feel it. ”don’t fail a single student.”

silence. pure silence, suffocating them, tangling itself into the air. satoru can practically taste it — fear, familiar, that pang of panic. a ticking time-bomb. the knife stays pressed against warm skin, pushing, sinking, just a little, a drop of red against his pale throat. 

it’s enough to get your professor to make a little noise, one that vaguely resembles a whine. like that of a small animal, rolling over on its belly, eager to play dead. no word is spoken in reply, but he nods, just barely, a nervous tremble of his head.

satoru hums, approving. ”good.” he doesn’t loosen his grip. ”there’s a particular student i’m worried about. marked them down in the catalogue... i’m counting on you.”

another noise. a grunt of affirmation, a silent plea — satoru allows that fear to seep into his own bones, just a little, just to get a taste of it. cold on his tongue. he wonders if this is what helplessness feels like.

then he takes a step back. slow, tentative, dragging the knife with him. not before parting his lips once more. ”don’t turn around,” he warns. ”i’ll be back if there are any complications. this’ll be our little secret, hm?”

the man in front of him doesn’t say a thing. frozen in fear, paralyzed, not moving an inch. a fly trapped in his web. it’s a relief.

before he exits the room, satoru puts the final nail in the coffin. just in case. ”i happen to know what school your daughter goes to.” he waits for a flinch, and it comes almost instantly. like clockwork. “remember that.”

it’s an empty threat. your professor doesn’t know that, though. he doesn’t know that satoru knows his daughter, that he walks past her preschool almost every morning on his way to work. that she waves to him whenever he passes by, and that he makes it a point to always wave back. a little troublemaker; the rowdiest of utahime’s preschoolers. she has a bubbly laugh, and just lost one of her milk teeth. she was giddy when she showed him, a bout of giggles spilling from her lips as he cooed and ruffled her hair. 

he wouldn’t lay a finger on her. 

but your professor doesn’t know that, hasn’t got a single clue, and satoru delights in the fear that must be running through his veins. down his spine, crawling into every narrow of his skeleton, making a home for itself that he’ll never quite be able to root out.

a gulp. satoru hears it, in the quiet of nightfall, just before he shuts the door behind him. good.

the rest of the evening is a blur. satoru gets home, relieved to find you still asleep, and tucks you into his chest. makes a mental reminder to order your favorite take out tomorrow; a little reward for your hard work.

finally, he can sleep easy. knowing you’ll get what you deserve. 

three weeks later, satoru places his hand on the familiar doorknob in front of him, dragging his weight behind him. blinking sluggishly. 

there’s a sinking feeling in his chest, weighing him down — like an anchor tied to his liver. a compass, tucked between his fourth and fifth rib, one that’ll always stay lodged right there. he’s learned to grow used to it, a natural consequence, a sign that his humanity is still intact. 

that doesn’t make it any less bothersome, though.

(ridding the world of a pest shouldn’t make him feel dirty. especially when he felt nothing but contempt for the pest in question, for the way he whistled as you walked by, the words he spewed before satoru met his eye. vile. putrid. why should he feel guilty for wiping a stain off the pavement?

it does make him feel dirty, though. a sinking feeling in his chest.)

there’s nothing to be done about it. satoru swallows the unpleasant taste on his tongue, and drags the door open, closing it behind him with a softness he reserves for you alone.

and there you are.

on the couch, farther away, already looking his way — lips instantly curling up into what he knows will be a smile. this time, it’s laced with excitement. one of his personal favorites. his gaze devours the joy in your features, the glimpse he gets of your teeth, that familiar crinkle of your eyes. 

you’re smiling. at him. you smile and his world wakes up, it’s dyed in different shades of blue, it’s brimming with life and love and something too good not to kill for. you smile and everything is right, good, worth it. you smile and it's as if the blood has been washed off his hands.

suddenly, all is well again. satoru exhales a blissful little breath.

“‘m home, honey,” he grins, a light pink dusting his cheeks, hanging his coat up before turning to face you. arms wide open. “did you miss me?”

his heartbeat stutters when you practically engulf him, all giddy giggles and that perfect smile, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. “mhm,” is what you chirp, pressing kisses down his collarbone, and he has to bite down on his lip to stop the shivers trailing down his spine. he tastes iron, but laps it up with a coo. sickly-sweet.

“missed you too, precious,” he purrs. “sorry i was gone for so long — had to take care of something.” 

he cups the back of your skull with his palm, large and crafted just to hold you, and marvels at how much you trust him. how you’re melting into his chest, fitting into every crevice of his heart. he wants to keep you there forever. forever and ever, always within reach, always close enough to touch. 

but he also wants you to be happy. he wants to see you run away, wherever the wind takes you, if only so he’ll get to feel you jump into his arms again, when you’ve had your fill of the world. when you come home to him, where you both belong.

satoru would never cage you. never, never, never. he wants you to enjoy your life — confining you wouldn’t do any good, would only stifle that pretty smile he loves so dearly. he wants your world to be large, brimming with life, blooming with fervor, wants the air to be clear enough for your beautiful lungs. he couldn’t build a world for you, here, in this apartment. no matter how big or luxurious. 

so his only option is to bend the world into a kinder shape — twist and mold until it forms a path good enough for you to follow.

(it’s worth it, he knows, he’ll always know. it’s worth it to see that smile.)

“is that a new coat?” you ask, naive and innocent, and it breaks him out of his thoughts, attention wired to the lilt of your voice.

“yeah.” it’s stylish, expensive, a nice shade of black. he had to throw the last one away. “looks nice, right? i’ll get you the same one, pretty.”

“you don’t have to, toru!” you hurriedly exclaim, knowing he’ll jump at the opportunity to spoil you. “i like the one i have now!”

satoru pouts. a soft huff, right by your ear. “you don’t wanna wear matching coats?” he feigns sadness, scratching softly at your scalp, drinking up the little purrs that bubble up in your throat. 

and you giggle. you giggle and all he can think is worth it, worth it, worth it. a stained coat or two means nothing. the blood on his hands is just insurance. 

“well, when you put it like that…” you shift a little, curling your arms around his neck, breathing him in. he wonders if you can smell the cleaning detergent. “i guess i wouldn’t mind a new coat.”

and he grins. “right? want me to buy you new shoes while i’m at it? some jewelry?” he peppers kisses down your neck, amusement laced in his voice. “the whole store?”

again, those giggles. again and again. he laps them up like fine wine. “okay, that’s too much.”

“but you deserve it!” he whines, sickeningly sweet. sick to his stomach with love. “been working so hard, my angel.”

and, suddenly — you light up. his little firefly. brightening, inhaling a giddy breath. pulling away, a little, and he does his best to bite back the frown on his face. you’re practically beaming, sunshine personified, eyes glittering with giddy joy.

“right! i almost forgot!” 

then you’re skipping away, happily, to retrieve your phone. and he knows what you’re going to show him, but still feigns surprise when he sees the score on your exam, that perfect 100 on the screen. still makes an expression of shock that he knows will get you to laugh, still picks you up and spins you around and tells you how proud he is.

he almost, almost feels bad, seeing you smile so wide; at what you assume to be the fruits of your own labour. almost feels ashamed, knowing that perfect 100 wouldn’t exist without the knife at your professor’s throat.

but, then again, this is how it should be. those numbers are the fruits of your own labour, because satoru is a part of you. and you deserve it, deserve it more than anyone — he knows you would have gotten it, even without his help, if your professor was competent enough to see your brilliance. 

satoru smiles. he is proud of you. and this is exactly how it should be. he’s just bending the world into its rightful shape, cutting strings from a wrongly woven web, righting the wrongs of the people around you.

you, you, you. the only thing that exists.

all of him is for you.

”i knew you could do it. never doubted you for a second, baby,” he smiles, so wide his cheeks hurt, and you return it with a kiss to his jaw. 

”thank you. i’m just so relieved,” you exhale a breath, heavy, and it’s like he can practically see the stress melting from your shoulders and eyes. worth it, worth it, worth it. ”gosh. i’m gonna sleep like the dead tonight.”

”as you should,” satoru chirps, pinching your side. softly, brimming with fondness. ”but before that, we’re gonna celebrate. all day. and tomorrow too!”

another smile coaxed from your lips; this time, it’s a little bit shy. bashful, at the praise, his endless excitement. so precious he wants to kiss you breathless. give you all the air in his lungs.

so precious that he forgets about everything else. 

this is what you always do to him; wrap him up in a blanket of your love, cloud his veins with a nectar so sweet he takes the leap into your arms without a second thought. a foolish, lovesick butterfly, sticking to a single rose; dripping with honey, overflowing. the butterfly is too drunk on love to care. 

you’re his flower, his joy, the most useful form of anesthesia. with you in his veins, on his mind, your lips on his jaw — satoru can pretend that his hands are clean. that they always have been.

it all slips from his mind. your professor, the creep who catcalled you yesterday, that one classmate you’ve been complaining about recently. he forgets that they even exists, and satoru thinks that must be what love is: something that narrows your world down until you can make a home out of it. 

(something worth holding onto, no matter the cost.)

as always, it’s your voice that snaps him out of the trance he’s in. turning around at the sound of your call, the orpheus to your eurydice, too in love to save you from himself. you’re both getting ready to head out, dressing up for a well-deserved date. 

satoru feels himself smile. he does the dirty work, and you get to reap the rewards. heaven on earth.

“oh, by the way! would you want to have dinner with my parents tomorrow?” you meet his absent gaze with a tilt of your head. “they’ve been asking about you again. it’s such a headache, seriously.”

satoru giggles, barely containing how delighted he is. raising a playful brow. “oh? grumpy that you aren’t the favorite child anymore, hm?”

“okay, first of all —“ you stifle a giggle, pulling a drawer open, rummaging through it. freshly washed clothes. he washes most of your things. “you aren’t their child. and second of all —“

“— yet.”

a pause. 

satoru watches your gaze flick over to him, then back to the drawer, collecting yourself. a cute flush to your cheeks. “… whatever.” you clear your throat. “second of all — i don’t like how much they like you. what kinda spell did you put them under? it’s always satoru this, satoru that!”

a huff fills the air, and you mutter something that sounds a little like mocking, an obnoxiously imitated where’s satoru? that makes him chuckle into his fist. 

he shrugs. “i’m just a natural charmer, y’know? and, for the record; i would love to have dinner with them.” he sends you a wink, playful, and you roll your eyes. “are you joining us?”

a bout of laughter pushes past your lips, and satoru thinks he could die happy — just soaking up the joy that spills from out your throat. he wishes he could live in it, paint your house in it, wear it. he wants your joy to be all he ever feels. he feels sick at the idea of ever being out of earshot for it.

“yes, i’m joining you.” your scoff is dripping with humour. ”i’d hate to be the fourth wheel, but it is what it is.”

satoru stifles a grin. ”lucky me. three beauties all to myself,” he drawls, a seductive lilt to his voice, just to hear that little noise you always make with the back of your throat. vaguely disgusted.

”you’re so gross.”

a coo. like the buzzing of a bee. ”don’t be jealous, honey. know you’re my favorite, don’t you?” satoru smiles — more sincere than you’ll ever know. ”could never love anyone else.”

��so my parents are in second place?” you quirk a brow, amusement lacing your words, and he clicks his tongue. 

”well, they made you. i’d have to be a fool not to worship artists of such caliber.” 

”charmer.”

”yours.” the word is a knife at his throat, a stain on his coat, a love so heavy it’ll burn him alive. ”only yours.”

and again, you smile. all he can think is that you deserve everything, everything he could ever give you. it’s all he can think as you go about your day, as he leads you outside, as he watches that flicker of joy dance inside your iris. as he watches you walk wherever your heart takes you.

the thought remains when you return home, when you wrap yourselves up in blankets and he throws a leg over your waist and you curl an arm around his ribcage. it’s all he can think. 

satoru was born to be of service — to someone, to the world, to something or another. he was born to carry a weight on his back, so why not bear the weight of your burdens?

all he wants is to protect you. all he’ll ever need is that smile on your face. he was always bound to be just this: a dog at your heels, a halo around your head, the watchful eye keeping you safe from everything rotten in this world. he’s the butterfly, the spider, the web itself. and he’ll never let you be tangled up in it.

he was born to be of service to you. so service you he will, until it all comes back to bite him.

“satoruuu — stop stealing the blanket!”

he prays it never will.

[envy-of-the-apple]

what are your thoughts on gojo x maid of the gojo clan reader?

yes but also i wanna merge this with the targeryan au thing i was thinking about JUST HEA ME OUTPLSPLSPLS-

so Gojo Satoru is technically a Targaryen...but he's a bastard so he keeps his mother's last name. everyones mad that his father, the king, had the AUDACITY TO FUCK SOMEONE WHO WASN'T HIS SISTER, so he's pretty much an outcast. he's still of royal dragon blood so he is still catered to, but no one rlly respects him.

maybe you do, some lowborn maid with no house to call your own. you see him as just a kid, so you treat him kindly. Gojo latches onto this, he's half your age and it's not hard to see him as this lost little kid. you think nothing of it when he makes these large claims to marry you one day and you find it a little adorable like 'haha this kid'.

despite being a bastard, gojo does the impossible. he claims six dragons. that fortifies his claim to the thrown, no one dares to disrespect him so openly after that. the king even wants to legitmize him after his feat, but gojo refuses. he wants more than legitimization. he wants revenge from everyone who laughed at him.

with the help of warden of the north (Geto obvs) he usurps the thrown and quickly lies waste to the rest of the family. the executions take weeks to carry out. the king, the queen, his countless brothers and sisters are all mercilessly slaughtered. advisors, hands, any loyalists are killed as well. he cleans up everyone in the castle, honestly.

and then there's just you.

well, he is king now. every king needs a wife? looks like you're gonna get a promotion:)

[iamnotdeadyet]

WHAT IF'S...

Sypnosis: Playboy!char and their what if's after you broke up with them.

Reader is gn.

✦♥︎✦♥︎✦♥︎✦♥︎✦♥︎✦♥︎✦♥︎✦♥︎✦♥︎✦♥︎✦♥︎✦♥︎✦

Playboy!bf who really did like you at first. But he couldn't stay committed if his life depended on it.

Playboy!bf who feels regret pooling in his gut after you break up with him through text. He did deserve it, he cheated on you after all.

Playboy!ex who can't sleep after the break up unless he greens out.

Playboy!ex who doesn't show up to school the next months.

Playboy!ex who stays up, staring at the ceiling during the night and thinking you.

Playboy!ex who gets hard when he gets high so he films himself jerking off while moaning your name. And he's so shameless about it too. Rutting his cock in his hand, squelching sounds from him. All the while his other hand holds a vibrator on his balls, playing and occasionally cupping them. Then finally he cums with an arched back and curled toes as he throws his head back.

Playboy!ex who will never send you that video after all.

Playboy!ex who regrets his whole life decisions the day he comes to school. You're just so nice and sweet to him, treating him all the same and he can't help but get hard over a simple, probably unintentional praise! So he has to excuse himself to the bathroom just to jerk his weeping cock off while replaying the praise in his head like a mantra.

Playboy!ex who will never forget himself for cheating on you and letting you leave. Because now, he finds himself climbing the window to your room while you're asleep.

Yan!Playboy!ex who has a stolen panties collection, all of which he grabbed while he was leaving your dorm after his little break in.

Yan! Playboy!ex who humps his pillow, while sniffing at your panties. All of this while he fingers his greedy little whole just like you taught him back then. Curling his fingers against his spongy spots and crying out on your used panties, dirtying them with drool and spit when rope after rope of cum leavis his spent dick .

Yan! Playboy!ex who can't fall asleep if he doesn't finger his tight, plump ass to one of the photos he took while you were unconscious or a pair of your panties.

Yan! Playboy!ex who doesn't date anyone else after realizing how obsessed he was with you.

Yan! Playboy!ex who desperately wants to show you he deserves a second chance but is devastated when he finds out you were dating someone new.

Yan! Playboy!ex who takes care of the obstacle of a person by killing him while he was sleeping, making sure it seemed like a 'heart attack.'

Yan! Playboy!ex who is glad you found it in you to keep him as a friend, because now he can comfort you while showing that he is the better choice in the end.

And no matter what...you will be his again.

[yandere-daydreams]

Wait wait wait if geto was really into pet play lifestyle and forced reader into it, do you think he'll have like a whole backstory they need to follow?? Like a mock hybrid au...

ahhhh it's a bit of a toss-up!

i think if your relationships is initiated when he kidnaps you, he'd jump immediately into the hard launch and act like you're literally a helpless, filthy stray kitten he found on the streets (hence why you're so bratty and won't stop trying to escape) that still needs to be trained (re: fucked) into a proper housepet, treating you like a pet, keeping you in costume 24/7, never referring to you by name lest you start believing you're anything more than an animal to him.

but, if you have a relationship pre-kidnapping, i can also see him being more willing to ease you into it - suggesting out of the blue that one of those cat ear headbands would just look so cute on you, gagging you/making you meow in bed, locking you in a dog kennel as a sexy roleplay punishment that quickly becomes significantly less sexy when you realize you will be sleeping there all night, etc. the final destination is still the same, but he at least does you the curtesy of letting you pretend he might actually see you as an equal before finally proving that he was only ever going to treat you like something less than human.

[gojo-mochi]

MDNI! Dark Themes. Dubcon/Yandere/Kidnapping/Drugging? (it catnip)

HybridKitty!Reader who was a stray but a happy stray roaming around the streets, catching fish from the river, and lazing around in the sun. But, suddenly, they get adopted (kidnap) by this strange man. He takes you in his house, forces a collar on you, telling you that it was much safer in his house than the outside world. You try to tell him that you been surviving just fine without him, that the outside was your home and you liked your freedom. He just coos at you and tries to ruffle your hair, treating you like a child.

You hiss and claw at his hand and while he winces back he doesn't hurt you back. Just looks at you sadly and tries again in a couple of hours. The days passes like this for a while, he leaves food outside of the small closet you took up space in. Feeling that it was safer in there, then the room and bed he made for you, you wouldn't eat it for a while at first. But the smell got too tantalizing, the stranger would handcook meals for you and they always smell so good.

Slowly but surely you were coming out of your skittish shell, hanging around the kitchen watching him cook once, but promptly leaving once he tried to pet you once again. However, after you finished your meal today, he asked you if you wanted dessert. This was the first time you heard this so you were curious enough to stay out of your hiding place to see what he had to offer.

He brings out a small bottle, sprinkling some leafy stuff on the palm of his hand and stretching it out to you. Telling you to take a sniff of it. The smell was nothing you ever smelt before, it was addicting to say the least. Even more once you actually got closer to his hand, though when your own hand stretch out to grab some of it, he pulled back, closing his palm into a fist and sealing away the treat.

Your ears flatten back on your head and a needy whine emerge from your throat, wondering why he would deny you the dessert if he was offering it in the first place. He waggles a finger at you, softly smiling, his eyes darken over just a bit. "If you want this treat, you gotta eat it from my hand, ok?" He reach out, palms open once more.

You shouldn't, you really shouldn't, all your heighten senses was telling you this was a bad idea but your sense of smell was overriding everything. The treat smelt too good to be left alone so you venture forward. Tentatively inching closer and closer, leaning your face down to take a good whiff of the treat and your mind was gone at that point.

Your rough textured tongue lap out at the treat, heavy purrs emits from your throat. As you kept on licking the treat out of the stranger's hand, not even noticing or caring that he was practically drooling at the sight, his thighs shaking a little, and his hand hovering over your head. Your small hands grabbed on to his wrist, pulling him closer as you try to get every single bit of the leafy treat, your tongue caressing the skin of this palm now.

He lets out a low moan at the feeling, putting his hand down on your head and finally touchy your cute fluffy ears, fingers rubbing the softness of it, making you purr out even more. You saw drunk people before back when you were a stray and you imagined this is what they must had felt like. On cloud nine and when the treat on his hand was emptied by your lips. The man stood up, hands traveling down your back and waist as he tells you that he'll give you more if you come sit on his lap and lick it off of him again.

How you could resist after just one taste? So, of course, you agreed, leaving behind the shelter of the closet and going into the bedroom. As the door clicks behind you, the last sense in your brain gave out a final warning to run. Too bad, because now the man was also addicted. Addicted to the feeling of your tongue on him and he wasn't about to let you go so easily.

After all, a good kitten gotta work for her treat~

[peachsayshi]

player gojo just doesn't work in my head for some reason because I know for a fact that when that boy falls in love he turns into whipped cream and will follow you around like a lovesick puppy with big fat heart eyes.

[ddarker-dreams]

thinking about gojo turning his infinity off in the yan AU of golden girl, placing gg MC's hand over his heart, and telling her that if she 'wants to get rid of him so bad,' now's her chance ......................................

[prettyboykatsuki]

im fond of captivity in yandere for many reasons but im mostly fond of the forced normalcy of living with the person that has robbed you of nearly everything. these four walls are decorated, lived in - there's picture of you and your captor among decorations and class photos. you're locked in a place that reflects some ghost or some memory of you. your things are there. the hobbies you've tried to remain in connection with so you dont lose any more of yourself. a crochet needle, a nice set of kitchenware. it's your bodywash in the restroom and you know what it smells. right? you think you do. theres something extreme about you locked in a basement. a lightless, soulless concrete set of walls.

but there is something infinitely more tragic about still being in the world. sometimes you think you'd prefer the basement. still existing among everything. the sun is there but it's dim. the flowers bloom and wilt, and they do not care for you. you are living, and breathing - but hardly alive. this home is beautiful and well decorated. it's a beautiful casket. a prison that loves you. you will never escape from it. you might as well convince yourself it is just a home. and that this wallpaper is as colorful as you remember

[rottiens]

i must admit that one of my favorite yan dynamics is when, your yan bf! is the one who makes you scared or makes you cry, etc . . but is the one who is there to comfort you too. like, yeah baby, i'm sorry i made you feel that way but i'm here for you now, come cry while i make you feel safe again in my arms.

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

hot take maybe but i think gojo is the Least likely jjk man to be a yandere …..

[wisecura]

❀ jujutsu kaisen ❀

➫Gojo x reader

➬➬Where will this go

➬➬Next and another

➫Gojo x reader x Geto

➬➬The mean type

➬➬Nanny (series)

➫Geto x reader

➬➬pretty (older and not as nicely worded)

➬➬Pretty (revised & better)

➬➬Try the Priest (sfw angst)

➫Toge x reader

➫Yuji x reader

➫Megumi x reader

➫Toji x reader

➫Choso x reader

➫Yuta x reader

➬➬Desperation

➬➬Yuuuuutttaaaa

➫Nanami x reader

AN: This anime has been my obsession for the last few months

[vrisrezis]

Yan Gojo kink list pls

Ur wish is my command

- brat taming is huge. Huge. Huge. He’s such a brat in general and loves being put in his place.

- punishments? He likes being punished a lot, which goes hand in hand with brat taming, he likes being put in his place since he’s always so confident.

- size kink? Likes feeling small and weak in comparison to you.

- crying…. He cries a lot during sex idk ok .

-hair pulling is actually pretty big here but it goes hand in hand with brat taming and punishments

- secretly big fan of cockwarming but he will absolutely complain about it everytime

- ORGASM CONTROL HUUUGEEEE

- bondage

- feminization let him be your pretty little doll

- low key would b into roleplay but he’s always mad ridiculous abt it and gets upset when u don’t take him seriously

- masochism lets gooo

- exhibitionism lolll he likes outdoor sex a lot

- shower sex is huge bc he’s a demon from hell

-dirty talk pls he wants to hear how much of a slut he is

- spanking (sorry guys)

- hate/angry sex ohhh my god

- edging but again will complain everytime

[ilovemorayeels]

Yan!Satoru and Yan!Suguru Pt2!! (｡’▽’｡)♡

A/N: I plan on making a recent gojo and geto hc or fic, and then maybe a fic of the yan teen sillies!

CW: barista!nonsorcerer!gn!reader, murder, creepiness

word count: 491

Yan!satoru who became a regular (and by regular i mean coming back everytime you had your shift) at the cafe you work at, nagging to take an early break so he gets to ask you all about your day. Yaga is on his ass everytime he makes a detour from his mission if it's near the cafe, but to him, it's just a cursed spirit, why can't he just take a peek on how you're doing? He'll keep up the line to blabber how jujutsu high is just too mean on him and that he doesn't deserve the mistreatment, which often leads you into pushing him out of the way. (Which is fine by him, anything is fine if you're doing it.)

Yan!suguru who isn't fond of coffee, but sucking it up because it's you we're talking about. If you're making his coffee, it's the sweetest thing ever, even if it's pure black coffee. If he's having a bad day, a simple latte you made yourself makes it the brightest day ever. He'll ask about your day and subtly persuade you to go on a date (to him, atleast) after your shift is over. What a smooth talker. Geto is also a great listener, if you're ranting to him on your break about how nagging these customers are or how you got a burn from a customer spilling coffee, he won't try to shut you up.

Yan!SatoSugu who goes shopping with you after your shift, making you try on all kinds of luxuries, all kinds of jewelry, everything. They stop by some stores with house decor too, if you like it, they'll buy it, one for you, two for them. You ask if they liked it too, they just shrug and say it feels special to them.

Yan!SatoSugu who have practically a makeshift shrine of momentos and anything you like or has your dna (Suguru got his hands on the pencil you chewed on before Gojo, Satoru is still mad at him.), with pictures of you all together, or photos of you sleeping, everything you do is cherished with love and admiration.

Yan!SatoSugu who refuse to let you near an area that they're in a mission on. Oh, this is your apartment? Too bad, cursed spirit, you can't get killed. Satoru will whine and try to get you to live in the dorms, not like Yaga would let him anyways. But it's much safer than your apartment, think of all the cursed spirits crawling there!

Yan!SatoSugu who don't let anyone get close to you, either they go missing or cutting contact with you, your friendships never last long. They're the only friends you need, why be friends with everyone else? Not to mention those people could be trying to get their way close to them, to make them let their guard down just to stab them in the back. Don't you care about their protection??