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veria01 · 7 days ago

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got an idea ! could u write something with natsuki getting intimate with his gf but everytime they try to, mafuyu interrupts them

— COCKBLOCK ? x natsuki seba

summary . mafuyu’s a sweet kid— but should probably learn to just stay in his room for a little while.

wc . 1.3k

cw . VERY SUGGESTIVE MDNI , ummmm mafuyu described as ‘little’ because he’s my son idk if that’s important , FEM! READER !!!!!! uhhhhh idk what else

masterlist ౨ৎ

note : wrote this late at night again instead of doing work :p

natsuki has spent the last few days planning this— and it’s all going according to plan. his warm hands trail down your sides, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers sweet words and praises to you. he kisses the side of your neck softly, fingers slipping down to the edge of your pants.

he’s been wanting to do this for months now. you’re his girlfriend; of course he wants to get intimate! how can he not? you’re the most gorgeous girl in the world, and he really can’t keep his hands to himself when he’s with you. he shifts closer, lips curving into a slight grin.

“right here?” he muses, toying with the waistband of your pants. he presses another kiss to your neck, humming at the sound that escapes you. so cute.

“or maybe—“ natsuki’s voice is cut off by the sound of a door opening. he grunts as you shove him away, feet lifting to kick at him in both embarrassment and mild annoyance at being disrupted. he clicks his tongue, a hand reaching to grab your ankle as he turns his head to the door— ready to glare at whoever had the nerve to ruin his opportunity to finally get in his girlfriend’s pants.

natsuki’s just a little surprised to find his brother— who has most definitely not announced himself before visiting—standing there, hand clutching onto the door handle and if he wasn’t wearing his mask, you’re sure his jaw would be dropped.

“you disgust me.” mafuyu scoffs under his breath, eyes narrowing. he’s not dumb, but he almost wishes he was after walking in on.. whatever this is.

you stare back at the younger boy, and you are absolutely 100 percent sure that you just want to melt into a puddle on the spot. natsuki just rubs your ankle gently— a poor attempt at soothing you. it has the opposite effect, instead making you flinch away from him and get off of the bed. poor natsuki just sighs in defeat as you practically rush out of the bedroom.

“you guys, uh.. could have continued..?” mafuyu trails off, glancing back at you. though, his words do little to soothe the embarrassment slapping your face repeatedly and ringing through your ears like some sort of annoying alarm. natsuki looks back at his brother, raising a questioning eyebrow at the younger boy.

“what is it?” he asks, sitting up straight. he hopes that this is something important—

“can i have some money?”

“get out.”

after that incident, it seems that you’ve become a little more shy than before. natsuki has to be very careful with his approach, he needs to set the right mood and definitely has to make sure that he’s gentle.

so, here you two are— cuddled up on the couch and watching some sort of horror movie. he’s not exactly interested, but he does smile slightly at the little sounds that escape your lips at a particularly scary scene.

natsuki presses his nose gently against the side of your neck, kissing the skin there softly. his hand slowly moves to your thigh, lightly squeezing the flesh.

you glance over to your boyfriend, who’s acting completley oblivious. you’re a little nervous— how can you not be with the way he’s touching you right now? even with the warmth growing on your cheeks, you move with a slight shift, getting a little closer to the man beside you. he lets out a quiet hum, his teeth grazing over the skin of your neck. at this point, the movie you both had been watching is just background noise.

and natsuki wouldn’t have it any other day. you’re all his for tonight— little mafuyu is probably out somehwere else— and he’s got all the time in the world to finally reach second base with you. he moves a little closer, taking care to be gentle. he knows that you’re still just a little shaken up by before— he’d say that he feels the same, but it honestly didn’t affect him that much. it was just one time— mafuyu will forget about it, right?

“what’re you watching?” a voice causes natsuki to pause his movements— and elicits a slight yelp to leave you. your boyfriend just kisses your cheek softly, a sigh escaping his lips as he turns to face, you guessed it, young mafuyu.

“the first scream movie.” natsuki answers, hand caressing your thigh gently. you just give the younger brother a small smile, your heart beating a million times per second. this is so embarrassing— the second time you’ve been interrupted! maybe it’s just not meant to happen.

“nice.” he hums, sitting down on the couch beside his brother.

and with that, the three of you spend the rest of your night watching movies. while it wasn’t really how you had expected for things to go— you can’t complain. mafuyu’s a good kid.

the next time, natsuki is determined. he’s got locks and chains on hand, ready to keep the door shut so no younger brothers can just waltz in and cockblock him.

natsuki’s got you under him, just like he’s been practically dreaming of. his hand gently cups your cheek, gaze meeting with yours. perfect. this is all so perfect. maybe the chains are a little out of place, though.

but he pays no mind to them when he leans down, kissing your lips sweetly. his hand trails down to the neckline of your shirt, gently tugging it down a little. with how close the both of you are, he’s sure you can feel the way he stiffens in his pants.

he pulls away after a moment to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth, then your cheek, then your jaw.. until he’s eventually trailing kisses down to your chest. his hand slips under the fabric, fingers moving up and ready to unclasp your bra. this is exactly how he’s wanted it to be— even if he feels like he’s being a little bit more demanding. he can’t help it! natsuki has been trying to have this moment for so long now!

that’s why he thinks he’s about to pop a vein when his phone rings. with a quiet sigh, he reaches out to grab the offending object. mafuyu— of course. he gives you an apologetic look, moving to lay beside you as he answers the call. what type of brother would he be if he were to decline it? even with the absolute need he feels for you, he can’t just ignore his younger brother.

“yes?” natsuki hums, lifting a free hand to lightly tousle your hair.

after a week of these stupid incidents happening, natsuki thinks that he’s going to go insane. his cock is terribly hard, and he’s just slightly on edge. he wants nothing more than to just have his way with you, finally, after all this time.

so, it’s safe to say that the man is more than delighted when he can finally catch you alone. mafuyu is with some girl— hopefully she’s enough to entertain him for an hour. or two. or three— just how much time is natsuki going to take with this? he doesn’t know, but he’s already looking forward to it.

“(name),” his voice is as nice as ever when he calls out for you. he walks over to your form— you’re sprawled out on your bed, scrolling through your phone. “sweetheart.” natsuki hums, getting into bed beside you. his hand trails down your arm, eventually reaching your free hand where he intertwines your fingers. he almost feels bad for being so direct.

but honestly; he really can’t hold himself back anymore now that he’s finally got his chance ! goodbye, self-restraint— and hello, feral bf! seba.

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veria01 · 7 days ago

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hi!! can you do uzuki x reader but with uzuki as a painter and the reader as his muse? thank you!! (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

Painted in Your Colors

(Painter! Uzuki x reader)

Hope you like it!!:)

Uzuki’s studio always smelled of paint—oil and acrylics blending together, creating a scent that had become strangely familiar. The faint fragrance of turpentine lingered in the air, mixing with the soft aroma of the tea you had made for him, though it sat untouched on the table beside his easel. Sunlight streamed through the large windows, casting golden hues across the wooden floor, highlighting the scattered brushes, half-used palettes, and numerous unfinished canvases leaning against the walls.

And in the center of it all was Uzuki, standing before his easel, brush poised between his fingers as he studied you.

You had become his muse, though he never outright said it. Uzuki wasn’t the type to shower you with compliments or speak poetic words about your beauty. He showed it in the way he painted, the way his sharp, calculated gaze traced every inch of your form as if committing you to memory.

“You’re staring again,” you teased, shifting slightly on the chair he had arranged for you. The rustling of fabric was the only sound in the otherwise quiet studio. Uzuki’s eyes flickered with something unreadable before he dipped his brush into a deep shade of blue, resuming his work without answering.

You exhaled a soft laugh, resting your chin on your palm. “I bet you won’t even let me see it.”

“It’s not finished.”

You rolled your eyes. “You always say that.”

Uzuki’s lips curved ever so slightly—just a ghost of a smile, so faint you might’ve imagined it. “Because it’s true.”

It was always his excuse. But in the times you’d caught glimpses of his work—half-formed brushstrokes, the blurred outlines of your figure, the intricate details of your features—you knew he was being careful. Almost too careful.

It wasn’t just a portrait. It was you through his eyes.

And you wanted to know what that looked like.

Your fingers idly played with the hem of your sleeve. “You know… I’d sit for you even if you didn’t ask.”

Uzuki paused for half a second, his brush hovering over the canvas. “I know.”

That was the thing about Uzuki—he always noticed more than he let on.

You tilted your head, watching the way the light caught the strands of his silver hair. “How long have you been painting me?”

His hand stilled for a moment before he continued his brushstrokes, slow and deliberate. “Since before you knew.”

Your heart skipped a beat.

“…Seriously?”

Uzuki nodded once, dipping his brush into a lighter shade, mixing it on the palette with effortless precision. “You had this look on your face. Something about it stuck with me.”

You swallowed, warmth spreading in your chest. He had never said anything before, but now that he had, it made sense. The times you had caught him sketching idly in his notebook, the way he sometimes looked at you as if trying to remember every detail—he had been painting you long before you realized it.

Your voice softened. “What do I look like to you?”

Uzuki hesitated for the first time, his usually calm expression flickering with something more vulnerable. He didn’t answer immediately, as if weighing his words carefully. Finally, he murmured,

“…Like light.”

You felt your breath catch.

Uzuki wasn’t a man of flattery. He didn’t say things he didn’t mean. But the way he said it—with such quiet certainty—made your heart squeeze.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The only sound in the room was the soft scratch of his brush against the canvas, the rhythmic motion almost soothing.

Then, finally, you stood, stepping closer to him. Uzuki watched you but didn’t stop painting, his fingers steady even as your presence neared.

“…Can I see it?” you asked, voice barely above a whisper.

He hesitated again. But this time, instead of rejecting the request, he slowly turned the easel toward you.

You sucked in a breath.

The painting wasn’t just a simple portrait—it was you, but not just in the way a mirror reflected. He had captured something deeper. The warmth in your eyes, the softness of your expression, the way the light touched your skin. There was an intimacy in the brushstrokes, a kind of love that couldn’t be put into words.

You reached out, fingertips hovering just above the canvas. “Uzuki…”

“It’s not done,” he muttered, glancing away as if embarrassed.

You smiled, your heart full. “It’s perfect.”

He huffed softly, shaking his head, but you caught the faint pink dusting his ears. Slowly, you reached for his hand, fingers brushing over the paint stains on his skin. He stilled at the touch, his gaze flickering to yours.

“I love it,” you murmured. “I love the way you see me.”

Uzuki’s grip on your hand tightened just slightly—subtle, but enough.

“…I’ll paint you as many times as you want,” he whispered.

You leaned closer, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his lips. “Then you’ll be painting me forever.”

And for the first time, Uzuki smiled—small, but real.

“…I wouldn’t mind that.”

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veria01 · 20 days ago

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I really don't get it. Why do all this for other people? Why not cut them off when they become a nuisance?

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veria01 · 20 days ago

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Uzuki Kei illustration for a giveaway on Twitter!

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veria01 · 21 days ago

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A/N: Nagumo is soggy, established relationship, bathing together, vague chapter 176 spoilers

Yoichi is no stranger to how gentle you are when you touch him. There is no inch of his body that is untouched by your hands. Still, it surprises him just how gentle you are when you touch him.

"Are you okay?"

The question pulls him back to reality, back into the bathroom with the light blue tiled walls, right in front of you in the little bathtub that he only fits into with bent knees.

"Hm?"

"I asked if you're okay," you repeat to him, your fingers - having momentarily stopped the task at hand - continue working the shampoo into his hair. You're sitting on the broad end of the bathtub that is connected to the wall like a little bench, preferring to sit there when washing his hair. Like this, you wouldn't strain your arms or make him bend down weirdly.

"Yeah. I am," he tells you and he doesn't really understand why he bothers with a lie. Yoichi knows you read him like an open book.

With a sigh, you tug his head back very carefully. Now, that his head is resting against your legs, he tilts his head back, you press a kiss onto his forehead. Black strands of hair rest against your thighs, wetting your skin.

"Really," Yoichi repeats. "Now, that I am here, it's okay." His eyes stay on your hands as they work on gently washing the shampoo out of his hair, holding the shower head above his head carefully, trying not to get any water into his eyes. One of your hands rests against his forehead, shielding his face from the gentle stream.

It doesn't register when you turn off the water, or when you help him out of the tub. Yoichi finds himself in bed quicker than his mind can follow tonight but he is glad that he doesn't have to think much about anything. The loneliness, now that he has confirmation of his friend's death, seeps into his limbs, making it difficult to will himself to do much.

Rationally, he is aware that he is not alone. In face of his losses that all seem to come crashing down on him tonight, it just doesn't feel that way. He is not alone but he is lonely.

And he feels guilty about it. Guilty because he feels this way despite having you. Guilty because maybe he could have done something to save his friend. Guilty because maybe he too, should have chosen to walk on another path.

"I'm here for you," you whisper into the darkness of the room, your arms winding around his middle, warm hands rubbing over his back with a touch so gentle, that it makes his heart ache almost as much as the words that follow.

"I won't leave you, I promise."

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veria01 · 21 days ago

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Love at First Sight (According to Nagumo, Anyway) Part 8

Warning- Reader in shock/trauma. Long chapter

The world blurred around you, the chaos of the alley melting into a fog of numb disbelief. Nagumo carried you easily, his grip unyielding yet careful, as if you were made of glass. You could feel the damp warmth of his coat around your shoulders, the scent of blood and steel clinging to the fabric. But it wasn't just the blood that haunted the air—there was a certain heaviness to it, a weight of all that blood and death.

You should have struggled. You should have demanded he put you down. But your body refused to obey, locked in the weight of everything that had just happened. The suddenness of it all—your ex-boss's lifeless eyes, staring into the void. They weren't even looking at you. No, they looked past you, beyond you. And that thought, that chilling thought, made it all feel even worse. Those eyes would haunt you for a long time. Maybe forever.

Nagumo was silent as he carried you through the empty streets. His pace was steady and purposeful—each step echoing in the silence of the night. Still, something in the way he held you made you feel safe, even if the world around you was falling apart. You were drained, weak, exhausted. The pain from the bruises and cuts was a dull throb, but nothing compared to the emotional toll that seemed to suffocate you. Your breath came in ragged gasps, and you could feel tears slipping down your face—silent tears, almost as if you were too tired to make any noise. It felt like a dream or, more accurately, a nightmare that terrifies you even when you are awake. But this was no dream. This was reality. A reality that made your chest ache and your throat tighten. It was too much. Too unreal.

The next thing you knew, you were being managed through a door. The dim glow of warm light wrapped around you, a stark contrast to the dark streets outside. It was silent. There was no hum of city noise here, no honking of cars or distant chatter. Just silence. A thick, suffocating silence that left you feeling exposed, like you were in a space too big to fill.

Carefully, he lowered you onto the plush couch, his hands lingering just a second too long before pulling away as though reluctant to let you go. His eyes—those sharp golden eyes—scanned your face with an intensity that made your skin prickle. There was no smirk, no playful edge; his movements were calculated and purposeful, like a man who knew exactly what he was doing.

"You haven't said a word," he said, his voice low, coaxing, but there was something else in it. Something almost… disappointed. "Not a word. After everything that happened."

You swallowed the dry rasp of your throat, feeling like a weight in your chest. Your lips parted, but no sound came out. You couldn't find the words—not now, not when everything felt so wrong. You couldn't even meet his gaze, the intensity of it too much to bear.

Nagumo exhaled sharply, filled with quiet frustration, before his fingers brushed gently against your chin, tilting your face toward him. His touch was light but carried an undeniable weight, demanding your attention.

"You're shaking," he murmured, more to himself than to you. His eyes flicked to your cheek, where the sting of torn skin still throbbed. The blood had dried, but the pain was still fresh. His gaze darkened, the flicker of something dangerous stirring in the depths of those golden eyes. "You're not okay. I can see that. You're still shaking."

Without another word, he stood, disappearing into another room. When he returned, he carried a small first-aid kit, setting it down beside you quietly. You couldn't help but notice the other items stashed in the kit—vials of adrenaline, morphine, surgical tools that could do far more than just heal. He really was an assassin. Not just a crazed psychopath. Truly, you wanted to laugh at the sheer absurdity of it, but you couldn't bring your body to move. Not that you didn't want to laugh, it was insane, the fact you had an actual assassin saving you from a hoard of gangsters, your body simply wouldn't comply.

"Stay still," he ordered, his voice gentle but firm.

You didn't have the strength to do anything else. You didn't even know what you wanted.

He knelt beside you, his fingers unnervingly soft as he cleaned the wound on your cheek. The sharp sting of alcohol made you flinch, but he didn't pull away. If anything, his touch softened, his fingers gliding over your skin as though trying to erase the damage.

"They hurt you," he whispered, his voice barely audible, but there was fury hidden beneath the softness, barely contained. "Those bastards. They hurt you." The words weren't really meant for you, more like for himself.

He continued to work silently, his fingers deftly wrapping a bandage around your cheek with meticulous care. When he was finished, his hands lingered on your face, thumbs brushing your jaw in slow, deliberate strokes. His gaze didn't leave yours, his golden eyes burning into you like he was searching for something.

Then, he tilted his head, his voice dropping to a whisper, "Did I break you?"

You blinked, your breath hitching, your heart skipping a beat. His grip tightened just a little as he cradled your head in his hands, his touch possessive now, holding you in place. His voice softened, almost coaxing, but still laced with that dangerous edge. "You haven't moved. Haven't fought. You've just… let me take care of you. Why? Why aren't you fighting, little one? Scared of the big bad assassin?"

You didn't know how to answer. Were you scared? No. You were too tired, too lost in the fog of everything that had happened. The words didn't come, not because you didn't want to speak, but because you didn't know what to say.

Nagumo's lips curled into a soft smirk, but it wasn't playful. It wasn't teasing. It was dark, almost possessive, like a predator who had found his prey. "No," he murmured, more to himself than to you. "I didn't break you. You're still in there. You're just… processing. Aren't you?" His tone softened, almost gentle, as he leaned in, his breath warm against your forehead. "Take your time. I'm not going anywhere. I'll be here. I'm looking forward to having my feisty wife back."

The finality in his words sent a chill down your spine, a sense of something inevitable settling in your chest. But before you could react, he shifted beside you, pulling you into him with a casual ease that belied the weight of his actions. One arm wrapped around your shoulders, the other tangling in your hair, guiding your head against his chest.

"Shhh," he murmured against your temple, pressing you closer to him. "It's alright. You're safe now. You don't need to do a single thing."

Safe.

That word again. You wanted to believe it. But how could you be? With him?

Nagumo's fingers combed through your hair with slow, deliberate motions, tightening every now and then as if checking that you were still his. His presence surrounded you, enveloping you completely, and despite everything—there was something strangely comforting about it. It wasn't normal, but it was something you craved. Something you needed. Just for now, you told yourself.

"You don't have to think," he whispered, his voice dripping with something dangerously sweet. "Not right now. Let me take care of you."

Nagumo's arms enveloped you, holding you close as if you might slip away otherwise. You were confused and scared, but most of all, you were just… tired. You didn't have the energy to fight, think, or question. All you wanted was to curl into yourself, to forget, even for a little while.

Nagumo's fingers slipped from your hair, and his voice was soft, coaxing. Let me take care of you now." His gaze softened for a fraction of a second. "You need a shower. Get the filth of you," he said, his voice soft, almost gentle, in a way you didn't expect. There was no edge to his usual taunts, no mocking tone. It was simply… practical. His eyes swept over you, a flicker of something unspoken passing between you before he continued, "And medicine. Your throat won't heal on its own."

You hesitated. Your whole body was a chaotic mess—trembling from the inside out, from the fear, the violence, and the blood still clinging to you. But he had seen it, too. He had caught the flicker of doubt, the hesitation in your eyes. And like a cat with its prey, his smirk returned.

"You'll feel better," he promised, holding his hand.

With a sigh, you took his offered hand. It was warm. His grip was firm, not aggressive, but with a quiet strength that suggested he wouldn't let you fall. You let him lead you toward what you assumed was the bathroom, feeling the exhaustion pulling at your bones with every step. The moment you stepped inside, the clean, sterile smell of the room hit you like a wave. The gleam of the marble countertops, the glass shower with its perfect lines, and the pristine stack of towels all felt alien to you at that moment. Too perfect. Too untouched. It made your skin crawl in contrast to the blood-streaked reality you'd just lived through.

Nagumo, ever practical, didn't waste a moment. He reached past you, twisting the shower handle. The hiss of steam filled the air, curling into the warm room as the water cascaded down, steaming and inviting. The warmth hit you almost immediately, wrapping around you like a blanket, and for a moment, you let it. Let it drown out the cold and the sharpness of your thoughts.

"I'll get you some clothes," he said, leaving. Then, his sharp gaze flicked back over his shoulder. "Don't lock the door."

You froze, your heart skipping a beat. The edge in his voice left no room for argument or hesitation. It wasn't a suggestion—it was an order.

"Nagumo—" you started, but he interrupted you before you could finish, his tone flat but firm.

"Just in case. That's all. Just in case."

In case, what? You fell? You can't find the soap? You try to escape? You didn't know, but your brain hurt trying to think. Simply, you swallowed hard and nodded, defeated. His gaze lingered for a moment before leaving, the door clicking shut behind him with a soft finality that tightened your chest.

All you could do for a moment was stare at your reflection in the bathroom mirror. Your breath came out in shallow, uneven gasps as you looked at yourself, barely recognizing the person staring back at you. You were pale; you looked sick. Blood was smeared across your arms, streaked down your collarbone, and stained the space under your nails. But the worst part—what you couldn't tear your eyes away from—were the bruises on your throat, the fingerprints that had been pressed into your skin. The memory of the chokehold, the panic, flooded your senses again, and you felt the blood rush to your head.

The blood. It was everywhere.

Your chest constricted as a sob clawed its way up from your throat. Your breath came faster, erratic. You could feel it, the weight of it—the blood, the suffocating presence of it. You wrapped your arms around yourself as if to hold your broken body together, but it wasn't enough. The room felt too small, the walls pressing in. It was too much.

Before you could think better of it, you stepped into the shower, clothes still clinging to your body like a second skin. The water hit you in a rush—scalding, sharp against your chilled skin. The fabric of your clothes grew heavy with the weight of it, but you couldn't bring yourself to take them off. Not yet. You needed to scrub away the evidence, all of it—the blood, the violence, the pain.

Your hands moved mindlessly over your body, scrubbing your arms, chest, and hands. The water turned red, swirling around your feet, but it wouldn't come off. No matter how hard you scrubbed or how much pressure you put against your skin, the stains wouldn't leave. It was in your mind, in your lungs, and suffocating you.

A broken sob escaped your lips, and your knees buckled beneath you. The cold tiles met you before you could collapse fully, your breath coming in sharp, ragged gasps. Your chest refused to rise and fall properly, your hands trembling violently as you continued to scrub, scrub, scrub—but nothing changed. The water, the blood, the smell of it—it was choking you. You couldn't breathe. You couldn't think.

Then, the door creaked open. You barely registered it before you felt his arms around you—strong, steady. Panic surged through you, and you twisted in his grasp, trying to push him away. Your nails scraped against his arms in desperate defence, but he held on. He didn't flinch. His grip was unyielding, his presence a constant force you couldn't escape. Finally, you calmed, sobbing against him.

"Shhhhhh," Nagumo murmured. His voice was low, steady, and unbothered by your frantic state. "You're okay." he soothed.

You shook your head violently, tears streaming down your face. "It's still there, I can feel it—" The blood. The choking feeling.

His grip shifted, becoming less forceful and more… guiding. Slowly, he lowered both of you to the shower floor, his hands still steady on your body. The coldness of the tiles beneath you was a harsh contrast to the searing heat of the water, and it helped just a little.

Nagumo didn't let go. He didn't push. He just held you while the sobs wreaked you.

"Do you want help getting the blood out of your clothes?" he asked, his voice soft but pragmatic as if the question was the most natural thing in the world.

You didn't respond with words. Instead, you let out a strangled sob, the fight draining from your body. You curled forward, pressing your forehead to his soaked shoulder. He didn't pull away. He didn't say anything. His hands moved, methodical and slow, as he reached for the soap and began to rub it into the fabric of your sleeves. His movements were deliberate and gentle, as if each stroke of his hand tried to convince you that you weren't alone.

The scent of soap, the rhythmic motions of his hands. Slowly, your breath began to even out, the frantic edge softening into something closer to exhaustion. Your fingers curled into his jacket, clinging to him like he was the only thing tethering you to reality.

"It's okay," he murmured, voice barely louder than the sound of water running. "I've got you."

Nagumo kept working, never rushing, never forcing you to move faster than you could handle. Even when the stains were gone, he kept rubbing as if trying to convince you that the blood wasn't something that would haunt you forever. His hands were there, warm and present, steady against your trembling form.

Eventually, the panic ebbed, leaving behind a deep, exhausted stillness. Your breath steadied, your grip loosened, and Nagumo, satisfied that you were finally coming back from the edge, turned off the water smoothly.

For a long moment, neither of you moved. Then, with a small shift, Nagumo pulled away just enough to look at you. His expression was unreadable, but his gaze was unwavering, waiting for you to answer the question without words.

"Better?"

It wasn't fixed. But it was better. You swallowed and nodded weakly, the weight of everything pressing down on you.

Nagumo didn't say anything but helped you up, his hands firm but careful on your arms. He grabbed a towel and wrapped it around your body. The fabric was thick and warm, soaking up the last of the water from your skin.

"You're gonna be alright," he said quietly as if it was as much for him as it was for you.

He disappeared for a moment, only to return with dry clothes. He set them beside you and crouched down, meeting your eyes, his gaze softening ever so slightly.

Nagumo handed you a set of clothes, his at a guess. They were oversized, warm, and faintly scented of spice and herbs. A simple black hoodie and soft sweatpants, too big for your frame but comforting in their own way.

Nagumo had stepped out of the room, leaving you with only the faint sounds of movement beyond the door—quiet footsteps, the rustle of fabric, the subtle clink of something being set down. You listen for a moment, hearing him move from one place to the next till you feel safe enough to peel yourself out of your soaked suit. The fabric felt like a shield as you slipped into it, the weight of his hoodie settling over your shoulders, engulfing you completely. The sleeves draped far past your hands, the hem hanging low over your thighs, but you didn't mind. If anything, the sheer size of it made you feel hidden, tucked away from the world.

When he returned, a towel in hand, he didn't say anything, just crossed the space between you with effortless ease. Without hesitation, he reached for your damp hair, slowly running the towel through it.

"Come on," he murmured, his voice low but firm. He didn't give you a chance to argue; he just placed a hand on your back and guided you out of the bathroom and up the stairs. The room was dimly lit, the air thick with a quiet stillness. The bed was neatly made, the blankets plush and inviting.

You hesitated at the edge of the bed, but Nagumo didn't. He pulled the blankets back effortlessly, then gestured for you to lie down. When you did, he tucked the covers around you with a surprising gentleness, his hands lingering just long enough to ensure you were completely warm.

"You're exhausted," he said simply, standing at the bedside. His gaze softened for a moment before he reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. "Get some sleep."

You blinked up at him, the weight of exhaustion finally settling in, dragging you under. But before your eyes could fully close, you felt the mattress shift slightly—Nagumo perching at the edge, not quite leaving yet. His presence was steady, unwavering, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you let yourself believe, just for a moment, that you were safe.

"Rest," he murmured, his voice the last thing you heard before exhaustion claimed you.

@yomsy @noodle81937

So what do you think? I sort of got carried away with this one. I really love how sweet he turned out but I am ready for more possessive deludedly in love Nagumo next chapter. Let me know what you think! Love hearing you comments.

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veria01 · 22 days ago

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warnings for mature content, minors do not interact. nudity, fingering, shin may be ooc. afab reader, crack at the end. based on this. italics are thoughts.

shin’s esp comes in handy many times when you’re together on your break, for there’s no need for you to physically speak up on what you want.

when he has you lying down bare on the edge of his bed, he’s quick to climb on top and let his hands explore. shin always pays attention to your reactions—both physical and mental, and is quick to adapt to your every moan.

his hair is messy, hovering over your face and making you scrunch your nose as it tickles. same for his chain, the silver tag dangling from his neck and settling down on the middle of your exposed chest.

your fingers gently grab his chain, pulling him down for a kiss. and he’s relieved to hear you hum as his tongue easily slips into your mouth. ‘god, shin, you taste so good—did you know that?’

he smiles, teeth slightly touching yours. “good to know, because you taste amazing. there’s only two lips that could compete with these, though.”

you playfully smack his chest, “oh my god, shin asakura!”

he leans down to kiss you again, his fingers gently trace circles around your hips, earning a slight chuckle.

‘you’re gonna make me laugh, babe.’

his fingers continue, carefully moving down your abdomen, he suddenly stops once he senses confusion in your mind.

‘kinda sucks i’m the only one naked.’

“oh—i didn’t know it bothered you” shin apologizes, looking down at his blue hoodie and pair of jeans. you look at him with a smile, finger pointing at his clothes.

“off. now.”

“yes ma’am.”

shin quickly pulls the hoodie off his shirt and slips off his pants, face flushing at your internal thoughts of how his body is ‘definitely a sight to see.’

“calvin’s?” you ask, eyes flickering to the milky white stain on his bulge.

he laughs, “you know if i take these off, it’s raw, right? there’s no condoms, and i don’t think you want little shins running around. ‘s all you’re gonna get today.”

you fake a pout as you watch your boyfriend lay on top of you, his knee perfectly settling in between your thighs. you moan at the friction, and shin takes the opportunity to clash his lips against yours once more.

your hands run through his hair, and you feel two fingers carefully tracing circles on your clit. your back arches, chest pressing against shin’s, and you feel yourself smiling when your boyfriend lets out a whimper.

the tip of his finger slowly sinks into your cunt, and he pulls away, “if you’re wet it means i’m doing something good, right?”

“you know, the fact that you said that made me dry as a dessert” you giggle.

he wastes no time fully sinking in two digits, making you gasp as he laughs. “not true.”

it’s almost endearing, the way your body trembles as shin pumps his digits in and out of you, his lips pressed against yours in an attempt to swallow your mewls. he hears you, how good it feels when he curls his fingers deep in your core, how his thumb draws circles on your clit, how he—

‘wait, what was that? are those keys?’

shin retrieves his fingers in a panic, the two cheery female voices suddenly echoing downstairs. what scares him the most, though, is the low, stoic that invades his mind.

‘hope they return to their shift soon, the second aisle could use a little cleanup.’

“they’re back!” shin shrieks, picking up a green apron and hanging it on your neck, as well as placing your clothes in your hands. he hurriedly shimmies into his pants as he points out the door. “bathroom is that way. next door to the right. i’ll stall mr. sakamoto downstairs.”

he sprints down the stairs as you walk towards the restroom, grateful that the door was already open.

chirp! chirp!

you turn around and almost drop your clothes as you see the yellow bird staring right at your soul. your eyes widen as you realize: heisuke is around. you quickly enter the restroom and shut the door behind you, slipping on your clothes and fixing the apron. when you stepped out, you looked to the side, noticing the bird is still there.

“you didn’t see anything, piisuke” you warn him, “nothing at all. got it?”

piisuke chirps sadly in return, and its expression tells you, you traumatized the poor bird. you walk downstairs and into the store as you meet up with shin, lu, heisuke, and mr. sakamoto.

restarting your shift like normal, you sigh in relief as no one mentions anything, though the side eye you got from mr. sakamoto might tell you he has a hunch of what happened. everyone starts to clean the aisles, as per sakamoto’s instructions. shin notices your worried expression and asks what’s wrong.

“piisuke saw me.”

“huh?”

“piisuke saw me naked. butt ass naked while i walked into the bathroom.”

“he’s a bird, sweet thing. nothing to worry about.”

though, shin furrows his brows as he glances at piisuke. while you’re arranging the snacks on the shelves, you feel eyes boring into you.

“hey, y/n, why are you wearing shin’s apron?”

god damn it, lu.

“i have to clean the windows today.”

“oh, i do the same thing! i don’t wanna get my apron all wet and dirty.”

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veria01 · 24 days ago

Note

I LOVE YOUR WRITING!!!!!! Can you please write an Uzuki kei x reader? (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)⁠❤

Thank you so much! Your love for my writing makes me so happy! (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)

Hope you love this one! Let me know if you want something fluffier, angstier, or anything in between!(⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)

The rain outside plays a soft rhythm against the windows, casting shadows across the dimly lit apartment. The air is thick with something unspoken—something that has lingered between you and Uzuki for far too long.

He stands near the couch, fingers idly brushing against the fabric of his sleeve, a nervous habit he doesn’t seem to notice. His white hair falls slightly over his eyes, and for the first time in a long time, he looks… unsure.

“Are you going to keep avoiding me?” you ask softly, stepping closer.

His jaw tightens, his gaze flickering to yours. “I haven’t been avoiding you.”

A quiet chuckle escapes you. “Liar.”

Uzuki sighs, closing his eyes for a moment before looking at you again. “It’s not that simple.”

“It is,” you counter. “You just make it complicated.”

His lips part as if to argue, but no words come out. Instead, his shoulders drop slightly, and for the first time tonight, the weight he carries seems just a little lighter.

You take another step forward, and this time, he doesn’t move away. “Kei…” Your voice is barely above a whisper. “I don’t care about whatever reasons you think you have to push me away. I’m here. I want to be here.”

Uzuki swallows hard. “You shouldn’t.”

“But I do.” You reach out, hesitating only for a second before brushing your fingers against his. The touch is featherlight, but it sends warmth through you.

Uzuki looks down at your intertwined fingers, his expression unreadable. Then, as if something in him finally gives in, he lifts your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. His breath is warm against your skin, lingering as if he’s memorizing the moment.

Your heart flutters. “Kei…”

He exhales softly, then pulls you closer, his arms wrapping around your waist with a gentleness that contradicts everything about him. He holds you as if you’re something precious—something he’s afraid to lose.

“I don’t deserve you,” he murmurs into your hair.

You tilt your head up, meeting his gaze. “Let me be the judge of that.”

Uzuki studies you for a moment, blue eyes searching yours as if trying to find reassurance. And then, finally, he leans in. His lips brush against yours, slow and tentative at first, as if waiting for you to pull away. When you don’t, he deepens the kiss, one hand coming up to cradle your face, his touch warm and steady.

It’s a kiss that speaks of everything he’s never been able to say—of quiet longing, of late nights spent wondering if he was allowed to want this, of the fear that maybe this was all just a dream.

But it’s real. You’re real.

When he finally pulls away, his forehead rests against yours, a rare smile ghosting his lips. “I think I’ve been in love with you for a long time.”

Your heart swells. “Then don’t run from it anymore.”

His arms tighten around you, as if grounding himself in your presence. “I won’t.”

And as the rain continues to fall outside, you realize that maybe, just maybe, Uzuki Kei has finally found something worth holding onto.

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veria01 · 28 days ago

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As a society, WE NEED MORE SAKAMOTO CHARACTERS X READER FANFICS. I'm talking about them Nagumo Yoichi, Natsuki Seba, Shin Asakura, etc. Cause tell me why I only saw five. FIVE fanfics of Nagumo. AO3 ain't doing any better too. I need y'all to work overtime fellow writers🙏🏻🙏🏻

#natsuki seba #natsuki x reader #nagumo yoichi #yoichi nagumo #seba natsuki #nagumo x reader #yoichi nagumo x reader #nagumo yoichi x reader #shin asakura #asakura shin #shin asakura x reader #asakura shin x reader #shin x reader #fanfic #natsuki seba x reader #sakamoto days fanfic #sakamoto days

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veria01 · 29 days ago

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Love at First Sight (According to Nagumo, Anyway) Part 7

Warning- Blood and horror.

You opened your mouth to scream, but nothing came—no desperate cry for help, no ear-shattering shriek—only a strangled, guttural whimper. A rough thumb pressed against your windpipe, not enough to cut off air completely but enough to silence you, to remind you how powerless you were in their grip. Panic bloomed in your chest, searing and consuming, every nerve in your body screaming for you to fight. You thrashed, twisting, kicking with every ounce of strength you had left, but steely hands clamped down around your limbs, locking you in place as if you were a mere insect struggling beneath their grasp.

Your only satisfaction was the thin red lines that blossomed against the man’s skin as your nails raked across him. He hissed, but his grip remained unyielding. It had to be Nagumo. Who else would send minds like these? It had to be. He must have grown sick and tired of waiting. You should have gone to the police. Not that it would have helped you now.

"Bitch," one of them snarled, twisting your arm into an awkward, painful angle, nearly yanking it from its socket. A sharp burst of pain shot through you, white-hot and sickening.

"Your own damn fault," another sneered, a wiry man with nicotine-stained teeth grinning down at you, his breath reeking of tobacco and malice. "Can’t even handle a little girl."

His fingers traced your cheek, slow and deliberate, sending revulsion clawing up your throat. "Pretty little thing," he mused, his voice syrupy with twisted delight. "Might have to take a taste later."

He purred the words like a promise, and your stomach churned.

"This the one?" he called over his shoulder.

Behind him, lurking in the shadows, was your boss—your ex-boss now, you supposed—his bulbous face red and puffy from drink, his eyes glinting with vindictive satisfaction.

"That’s the one," he spat. "Devious little whore. I always knew she was gunning for my job. Didn’t think she’d have the nerve to fucking threaten me with that psycho thug."

They laughed, low and cruel, the sound thick with malice.

"Little girl’s out of her depth," another taunted. "Maybe we should teach her what happens when you let outsiders encroach on our turf."

"Let’s have some fun," the wiry man crooned, turning back to you. "So tell me, little girl, who did you contact? Was it that fool, Tatsu?"

You tried to speak, but the only sound that escaped was a strangled gurgle, raw and desperate. The thug’s thick, calloused finger pressed deeper into your throat, cutting off anything more than a pitiful whimper. The pressure sent a wave of panic surging through your body, your vision blurring at the edges as your airway strained under his grip. It only made them laugh—low, cruel, utterly entertained. Not that they really wanted you to talk. They were enjoying watching you struggle, reveling in your helplessness, savoring your fear like a fine delicacy.

"Not answering? That’s fine," he chuckled darkly. "We can loosen your tongue another way."

He took a long, slow drag from his cigarette, the tip glowing a searing red in the dim alley light. Then, without hesitation, he moved the burning ember closer to your exposed skin.

You writhed, a fresh wave of terror washing over you, but the grip on your body remained unrelenting. Your eyes locked onto the glowing tip, the heat radiating against your skin even before it touched you.

"Stay still, you bitch," a thug growled, and a sharp crack rang through the air as he backhanded you across the face. A burst of pain exploded across your cheek, the metallic taste of blood filling your mouth.

The taste of blood flooded your mouth again as you winced, bracing yourself for the blow.

The man raised his hand, poised to strike once more, his grin widening, savoring the moment of terror.

Your eyes closed, instinctively twisting your head away, your body stiffening, bracing for the pain. You waited. And waited.

And then—

"How dare you touch my wife."

The voice cut through the night like a blade, cold and sharp, carrying an edge of quiet fury.

Nagumo stepped into the dim light, his presence swallowing the alleyway like a growing storm. His usual playful smirk was absent, replaced by something unreadable, something dark. The knife in his hand gleamed under the flickering streetlamp, the edge catching the light like a predator's fangs. The thugs barely had time to react before he moved.

One moment, he was standing at the alley’s entrance; the next, he was among them, a blur of fluid, lethal motion. A sickening gurgle filled the air as his blade found the throat of the man who had hit you, a crimson spray splattering the brick wall like grotesque art. The body crumpled before the others could fully process what had happened.

"Shit! It’s him from the order!" someone yelled, scrambling backward.

Nagumo turned to the next with an almost lazy grace, his blade dancing as he twisted out of the way of a clumsy swing. His knife flicked out, and another man dropped, clutching his stomach as blood seeped through his fingers.

Your ex-boss stumbled backward, his face draining of color. "I—I am sorry, I didn’t know—"

"Didn’t you?" Nagumo interrupted, voice pleasant yet devoid of warmth. He stepped over the writhing bodies with eerie calm, his blade dripping. "You touched what’s mine. You tried to hurt her. And you thought that was something you’d walk away from?"

The last thug turned to run, but he didn’t make it two steps before Nagumo’s knife buried itself between his ribs. A garbled scream echoed in the alleyway as he collapsed, twitching.

Nagumo let out a slow exhale and turned to your ex-boss, the only one left standing. The man was shaking, sweat beading at his temple.

"P-Please, we can work something out, I have money—"

Nagumo tilted his head, as if considering. Then, without a word, he plunged his blade into the man’s neck. Your ex-boss made a wet, choking sound as he sagged against Nagumo, eyes wide with disbelief before the life drained from them completely. Nagumo yanked the knife free and let him drop.

Silence filled the alley, thick and suffocating.

Nagumo turned to you. The rage was gone from his face, replaced by something softer. He crouched beside you, reaching out. You flinched, your body still trembling.

"Shhh," he murmured, his voice almost soothing now. "It’s over. You’re safe."

Safe. The word rang hollow.

Nagumo’s golden eyes burned with a silent fury as he crouched beside you, his touch unexpectedly gentle as he brushed a thumb across your bloodied lip. Without a word, he shrugged off his coat and wrapped it around your trembling shoulders, the weight and warmth of it cocooning you in an odd sense of security. "They won’t hurt you again. No one will. Not while I’m here," he murmured, voice softer now, yet carrying an unshakable promise.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you stared into his golden eyes, the intensity in them nearly suffocating.

"Let’s get you somewhere safe," he said softly, offering his hand.

Your stomach twisted. Your ex-boss’s body was a grotesque sight—slumped on the cold concrete, eyes wide in disbelief, the life draining from him in a crimson pool. The others lay scattered in grotesque poses, all bloodied, all still. The blood was so thick now it almost seemed like the alley was drowning in it, the metallic tang of it sharp in your nostrils, clinging to everything—the walls, your skin, your clothes. It felt unreal, like the world had shifted sideways and you were trapped in a nightmare you couldn’t wake up from.

But there was no escaping the truth.

Nagumo had saved you. But why?

The knife in his hand was still dripping with blood. His calm demeanor, the coldness in his golden eyes—he was the one who’d ended their lives so effortlessly. And yet, here he was now, extending his hand toward you, his voice soft, almost gentle in the midst of all this chaos.

He wanted to help you. But did he?

Your mind raced, the events of the last few minutes crashing over you in waves of disbelief. You trembled, your entire body shaking—not from the cold, but from the utter shock of it all. You felt numb, detached, as if you were floating above your own body, unable to make sense of the reality unfolding at your feet.

"Come on," Nagumo coaxed, his voice soothing, even as the bloodied bodies of the men he’d killed lay scattered at his feet. His gaze softened just a fraction, and you felt the weight of it—the intensity of his eyes, the power in his presence, the undeniable pull of him. "You’re safe now. I’m here."

But were you? Were you really?

You couldn’t tear your gaze away from the gruesome sight of your ex-boss, his bloated face still locked in a mask of surprise, his last breath stolen from him in a moment of pure terror. You should have felt relief, but all you could feel was a deep, gnawing sense of confusion, of displacement.

His hand was still there, just inches from you, warm and inviting. But you couldn’t move. Your body was frozen in place, unable to take the step toward him, to let go of the fear still gripping you. The tremors in your legs wouldn’t stop. Your mind couldn’t seem to catch up.

Nagumo stepped closer to you, his presence almost overwhelming. He crouched down beside you, his golden eyes studying your face, reading your fear, your confusion, and your unwillingness to accept what had just happened. His fingers reached out, brushing against your bloodied lip, his touch so gentle it was almost a shock compared to the violence that had just erupted in the alley.

"Shhh," he whispered softly, his voice almost soothing now, coaxing you into the calm he promised. "It’s okay. It’s all over."

But it wasn’t okay. Nothing about this was okay.

Your heart was still pounding in your chest, your breath shallow, ragged. You couldn’t respond. You didn’t know how to. You wanted to say something—anything—to make sense of it all, but your throat was tight, your words stuck somewhere deep inside.

Nagumo’s face softened a fraction, a small, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear. “It’s alright,” he murmured, his words like a balm over your raw, trembling nerves. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

And maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t.

You could feel yourself slipping. The tremors in your limbs grew stronger, your body rebelling against the cold, the blood, the madness.

Without a word, Nagumo reached out, his hands sliding under your arms, and in one fluid motion, he lifted you off your feet. His body was warm against yours, his arms strong as he cradled you close to his chest. The scent of him—clean, sharp, like freshly cut leather—filled your senses, grounding you in a way that nothing else had.

You didn’t know what to do. You didn’t know what you were feeling. All you could do was cling to him, your hands shaking as you burrowed your face against the curve of his neck, your body instinctively seeking solace in the only place that felt safe, even if you weren’t sure why.

Nagumo’s arms tightened around you but there was a tenderness there, too—a strange kind of care amidst the violence. His voice, still gentle, still soothing, whispered against your ear. “I won’t let anyone hurt you again. Not while I’m here.”

His words, though meant to reassure, only served to deepen the knot in your stomach. Not while I’m here. Your stomach twisted again—harder. But as you looked at the carnage surrounding you, the lifeless bodies, the blood pooling at your feet—you realized one thing.

No one else had come to save you. No one else had even noticed you were in danger. Nagumo had.

And that was perhaps the most terrifying thing of all.

You buried your head further into his neck, pressing your eyes closed tightly.

@yomsy @noodle81937

What do you think?

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veria01 · 1 month ago

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Temptation and Frustration

Gojo Satoru x Reader

**Warnings: Adult situations, sexual tension, horny Gojo, cock blocking, seducing, in heat, MDNI, smut, NSFW, 16+** Minors do not interact.

You were having a quiet evening at Jujutsu High, the soft glow of the setting sun filtering through the windows of the training room where you and Satoru Gojo were supposed to be working on technique drills. But with his infamous smirk and playful demeanor, he had turned the session into a flurry of teasing remarks and flirtatious banter.

“Satoru,” you sighed, shaking your head as he leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his shirt clinging to his toned body, “we need to focus.”

“Oh, come on,” he replied, his voice dripping with playful mischief. “Where’s the fun in that? We don’t have to take everything so seriously.” His blue eyes sparkled with mischief as he pushed himself off the wall and walked closer to you, the air suddenly thick with tension.

You felt a rush of heat at his proximity, unwillingly aware of how his presence ignited something deep inside you. You tried focusing on your breathing, but he always had that effect—like a flame to gasoline.

You backed away, trying to maintain some semblance of distance. “It’s not that I don’t want to have fun, but we need to work on our techniques. We have a mission soon,” you insisted, avoiding his gaze.

“Techniques, shmechniques,” he waved you off, instantly appearing less like your instructor and more like a mischievous schoolboy. “How about I show you a little technique of my own instead?” He stepped closer, invading your personal space, a cocky grin playing on his lips that made your heart race.

You could feel the heat radiating from him, the undeniable pull that made it difficult to think straight. But you steeled yourself against it. “Satoru,” you warned, your voice firm despite the way your skin prickled with anticipation.

But he didn’t stop. “What’s wrong? You didn’t say I couldn’t distract you.” He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your skin. The heat radiating from him felt almost tangible as he continued to tease, his fingers inching toward your waist.

“Stop it!” you exclaimed, a bit louder than intended, but the fervor in your voice only seemed to spur him on.

“Why would I? You’re just making it more fun.” He leaned closer, and you could smell the citrusy scent of his cologne mingling with the warm air. “I know you want this as much as I do.”

Your heart raced even faster. “You’re being ridiculous. We can’t—” You clipped your words short when you felt his hands gently grip your hips. In that moment, everything felt electrifyingly real, your senses heightening as he pulled you closer against him.

You could feel his breath against your skin, the warmth between you intensifying as he leaned in, temptation swirling in his gaze. “Just say the word, and I can make you feel so good…” he murmured, the suggestiveness in his tone igniting a raging fire within you.

But you couldn’t let this happen. Not here. Not now.

“Gojo!” you protested, grabbing his wrists and pulling them away. “Focus!”

“Come on!” he laughed, the frustration in his eyes morphing into a more playful glare. “You’re such a cockblock!” The way he said it was teasing, but you could feel the genuine desperation lurking beneath.

Crossing your arms, you tried to maintain your composure. “You’re being unreasonable. This isn’t the time.”

He took a step back, but the glint in his eyes only grew more intense. “Oh, I see how it is. You just want me to beg, huh?” He stepped back closer, and before you could react, he leaned in and planted a kiss on your lips. It was barely a second, but it was filled with pent-up heat.

You pulled back with a gasp, your heart racing wildly. “Satoru, no! We can’t!”

“Why not?” He stepped closer again, eyes burning with mischief, his body glistening under the dim light. “I’m just trying to show you how much I want you. Isn’t that enough of a reason?”

“Not when we have a job to do!” you shot back, but you could feel your resolve crumbling under his relentless teasing.

Gojo simply chuckled, a low, sultry sound that resonated deep within you. “Admit it. You like it when I tease you.” He closed the distance again, making you shiver as your bodies almost touched.

“Fine,” you relented, heat pooling low in your belly, the tension between you palpable and wild. “But we need to finish training first!”

He pouted, and you couldn’t help but laugh, despite the heat coursing through your veins. “You really are the worst,” he muttered before pulling you flush against him again, his voice low as he whispered, “But you’re the best kind of distraction.”

“That’s not fair!” You barely managed to protest before he captured your lips again, his kiss deepening, a promise of what was to come.

Time seemed to slip away as you surrendered, momentarily caught between frustration and desire, under his spell once more.

---

In that heated moment, it was hard not to get lost in him. But you knew this dance of distraction was far from over. Just maybe, you could find some balance between the heat and the missions ahead.

---

Lmk if you all want a detailed smut fanfic.

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veria01 · 1 month ago

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Shattered Illusions

Gojo Satoru x reader fanfic

Angst?? Arguing between couples

The moon hung high in the sky, illuminating the desolate street where the two of you stood, tension crackling like a live wire between you. Shadows twisted in the cool night air, but none held more weight than the ones cast by Gojo Satoru. His usual playful demeanor was nowhere to be found; instead, it was replaced by a storm brewing in his piercing blue eyes.

“Why can’t you just listen to me for once?” he shouted, his voice echoing through the empty buildings around you. It bounced off the walls, amplifying the hurt beneath the anger.

You crossed your arms protectively, refusing to back down. “Because I refuse to be coddled, Satoru! I won’t just sit back and let you fight my battles for me!” The defiance in your tone matched the fire in your belly. You knew how stubborn he could be, but the thought of being some pawn in his world of sorcery made your blood boil.

His expression turned incredulous, an expression you had seen countless times before. “This isn’t about coddling! This is about survival! You have no idea what’ll happen out there! You think you can just jump into a fight without consequences?”

You took a step forward, lowering your voice as if that would shield the weight of your emotions. “And you think you’re the only one who can protect everyone? I’m tired of being the one on the sidelines, watching you risk everything while I’m kept in the dark!”

The silence that followed was deafening, your breaths mingling with the sound of distant sirens. Satoru’s eyes softened for just a fraction of a moment, but then his brows knitted together, frustration boiling over again. “I’m not keeping you in the dark! I’m trying to keep you safe! I care about you!”

“Care about me?” you scoffed, your heart racing with both anger and pain. “You mean you want to control me! You want me to fit neatly into your idea of what I should be, and it’s suffocating!”

“That’s not fair!” He ran a hand through his disheveled hair, his voice rising. “You know how dangerous this world is! You think you can handle it on your own? You’re not invincible!”

“And you think you can just decide what I can or cannot do!” Your voice was louder now, the words pouring out like a dam breaking. “You don’t get to dictate my life! You don’t own me!”

“Maybe I wouldn’t have to if you’d just listen! I’m trying to protect you from everything I’ve seen, everything I’ve lost!” His eyes were fierce, glimmering with unshed emotions.

“But what about me? What about what I want?” Your voice cracked, the fight in you wavering. “Do I really have to endanger myself for you to recognize that I’m not helpless?”

His silence was deafening, and the hurt on his face caused your stomach to twist painfully. “You’re not helpless,” he finally said, his tone softer, but the frustration still simmers beneath. “But you are reckless. You don’t understand that lives are on the line. Our lives.”

“Then teach me!” you pleaded, desperate for him to see the truth in your eyes. “Stop treating me like a child. I want to learn. I want to stand beside you, not behind you!”

“That’s not how this works!” he shouted, voice raw. “You don’t just get to waltz into danger because you think it’s romantic! This is real! This is life or death!”

“It’s not about romance!” you screamed back, tears blurring the edges of your vision. “It’s about respect! It’s about being seen as an equal! I won’t let you box me in like some fragile object that might break! I’m here, I’m willing to fight, and you refuse to even let me try!”

“You don’t get it!” he yelled, frustration mixing with something you couldn’t quite place—sadness, perhaps. “You think this is just about skill? It’s about losing everything—I’ve already seen it happen to people I’ve cared for. I can’t bear the thought of losing you too.”

“Then stop pushing me away!” you replied, voice trembling as the anger seeped out, leaving only vulnerability. “This isn’t the way to protect me. This only drives us apart.”

His expression softened again, the hardness in his gaze now a reflection of hurt and something deeper—fear. “You think I want this? To fight you instead of alongside you?”

“Then prove it!” you challenged, the fire reigniting within you. “If you care, then show me. Show me that you believe in me as much as I believe in you!”

He stepped closer, a flash of uncertainty crossing his features. “You want me to put you in danger? To let you fight?”

“Not in danger, Satoru—by my side,” you insisted, leaning into your conviction. “But I need you to trust me. Trust that I can handle this, too.”

For a moment, you saw the flicker of hope in his eyes, but it quickly faded, overshadowed by the weight of his doubts. “I don’t know if I can,” he admitted quietly, his voice almost breaking.

“Then you’re the one who doesn’t trust me.” The realization struck like a slap to the face, and the raw pain twisted in your chest. “I am not asking you to let me rush into the fray recklessly; I’m asking you to see me. To see that I can be strong, too.”

The silence hung between you, heavy and fraught with unspoken feelings. Your heart raced as you awaited his response.

Finally, he took a deep breath, rubbing his temples as if trying to push away the encroaching shadows. “I just… I can’t lose you,” he whispered, the quiet anguish exposing the vulnerability he rarely showed.

“And I can’t lose you either. So can we meet in the middle?”

It was a delicate proposal, but the walls surrounding his heart seemed fortified. “I just don’t know if that’s possible,” he murmured, the weight of both rejection and fear evident in his voice.

You swallowed hard, feeling the tears threaten to spill over. “If we don’t try, then we’ll only keep drifting farther apart. Is that what you really want?”

Gojo’s azure gaze locked onto yours, the tempest of emotions swirling within him. You could see the resistance grappling with something softer—something that wanted to believe.

“I… I’ll try,” he finally said, each word a hesitant step toward a compromise. “But you have to promise me you’ll be careful.”

“I will,” you vowed, tears welling and spilling down your cheeks in relief. “I promise.”

Taking a step back, he scrubbed at his face in frustration, a flicker of embarrassment crossing his features. “I just…”

“Yeah, I know. It’s complicated.” You tried to lighten the mood, managing a small smile despite the tumultuous feelings swirling between you.

Gojo’s expression softened then, something warm breaking through the remnants of tension. “You drive me insane, you know that?”

“Good,” you quipped, returning to your playful self, “someone needs to keep you grounded.”

“Okay, we’ll figure this out together,” he said with a reluctant grin, the shadows slowly dissipating from his visage. “But no more sneaking around, alright? You have to promise me that.”

“Deal,” you replied, feeling a warmth spread throughout you. It was a long way from a perfect solution, but it was a start—a delicate truce amidst the chaos of your lives intertwined in a dangerous world.

As you stood together beneath the moonlit sky, the weight of your argument lingered, but for the first time in a while, there was also a glimmer of hope—a promise that you could navigate the darkness together, side by side.

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veria01 · 1 month ago

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Gojo Satoru x Reader/You

Angst fic cause I'm not letting couples breathe

The sterile white walls of the hospital room seem to close in on you, reflecting the flickering fluorescent lights back into your weary eyes. The rhythmic beep of the heart monitor is a constant, unwelcome reminder of the life flickering within you, a life intertwined with his. You sit vigil, your hand resting gently on the warm, still surface of the bed, where Gojo Satoru, the strongest sorcerer, the man you loved with a ferocity that both terrified and exhilarated you, lies unconscious.

It’s been three weeks. Three weeks since the mission, three weeks since that agonizing phone call, the frantic rush to the hospital, the sterile smell of antiseptic that now clings to your clothes, your skin, your very being. The doctors say he's stable, that his body is healing, but there's no sign of him waking. No flicker of those sapphire eyes, no playful smirk to grace his lips. Just the unsettling stillness.

You trace the familiar lines of his face, the slope of his nose, the curve of his jaw, the stray strands of white hair that have fallen across his brow. Even in sleep, he’s beautiful, impossibly so. But the beauty is marred by the jagged scar that slices across his left eye, a brutal souvenir from the battle that almost cost him everything. It's a cruel, permanent reminder of his vulnerability. Your breath hitches, your throat closing with a pain you can't quite articulate.

You remember the day you met, the dazzling display of power, the arrogant smirk that masked a deep-seated loneliness. You remember the way his laughter could light up a room, the way he made you feel like the only person in the world. You remember the stolen moments, the whispered confessions, the promise of forever.

Now, that forever feels fragile, threatened, hanging by a thread.

The weight of your own grief is a heavy cloak. You replay the events of the mission in your mind, dissecting every detail, searching for a way, any way, that things could have been different. Could you have prevented this? Were you not strong enough to protect him? The guilt gnaws at you, a relentless beast. You’re haunted by the image of him falling, his eyes wide with a mixture of surprise and something that looked disturbingly like fear.

The silence in the room is deafening, punctuated only by the machines and your own ragged breaths. You reach for his hand, your fingers intertwining with his. His skin is warm, but the warmth doesn’t reach your frozen heart. You whisper his name, a prayer, a plea, a desperate attempt to break through the barrier that separates you.

“Satoru,” you murmur, your voice trembling. “Please… please come back to me.”

Tears finally spill, tracing paths down your cheeks, landing on his hand, a silent offering of your pain, your love, your unwavering devotion. You lean forward, resting your forehead against his, breathing in the faint scent of his familiar cologne, a scent that now feels like a phantom limb.

The world outside fades away. The hospital, the mission, the looming threat of the curses, none of it matters. All that remains is this fragile moment, this desperate hope that he will open his eyes, that he will reach for you, that he will whisper your name again.

But the silence remains, heavy and suffocating. And in the quiet, you realize the agonizing truth: that even the strongest of sorcerers are not immune to the ravages of fate, and that sometimes, love, no matter how fierce, is not enough.

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veria01 · 1 month ago

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Gojo Satoru x Reader Fluff

Just admire him for a sec

You were sitting in the Jujutsu Kaisen library, studying for your upcoming exams. As you pored over your notes, you couldn't help but feel a little frustrated. You just couldn't seem to grasp the material, no matter how hard you tried.

Just as you were about to give up, you heard a loud, booming voice behind you. "Hey, what's wrong? You look like you're stuck."

You turned to see Gojo Satoru, the strongest sorcerer in the school, walking towards you with a concerned expression on his face. You felt a blush rise to your cheeks as he approached, and you quickly looked away, trying to play it cool.

"Oh, it's just...I'm having a hard time understanding this concept," you muttered, trying to hide your embarrassment.

Gojo chuckled and sat down beside you, his long legs stretching out in front of him. "Let me take a look," he said, peering over your shoulder at your notes.

As he scanned the page, his eyes widened in surprise. "You're trying to learn this on your own? That's impressive, but also a bit foolish." He smiled at you, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Why don't I help you out instead?"

Before you knew it, Gojo had taken over, explaining the concept in a way that was so clear and easy to understand that you felt like you'd been silly for not getting it sooner. As he taught you, his hand brushed against yours, sending shivers down your spine.

As the hours passed, you found yourself growing more and more comfortable in Gojo's presence. He was so kind and patient, and his enthusiasm for the subject matter was infectious. You couldn't help but laugh at his silly jokes and teasing comments, and before you knew it, the sun had set and the library was closing.

As you packed up your things, Gojo stood up, stretching his long frame. "Thanks for studying with me," he said, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "I had a great time. Maybe we can do it again sometime?"

You felt your heart skip a beat at the suggestion, and you couldn't help but agree. As you walked out of the library together, Gojo fell into step beside you, his arm brushing against yours.

As you walked, the tension between you grew thicker, until you could feel it like a palpable force. You glanced up at Gojo, and saw that he was watching you, his eyes burning with a soft, gentle intensity.

You felt your heart melt at the look, and you knew that you were in trouble. You were falling for the strongest sorcerer in the school, and you had no idea how to stop it.

But as you looked into Gojo's eyes, you saw something there that made your heart skip a beat. It was a glimmer of feeling, a spark of attraction that seemed to be growing stronger by the second.

And you knew, in that moment, that you were not alone.

Gojo's hand brushed against yours again, and this time, he didn't pull away. Instead, he intertwined his fingers with yours, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

"You know, I've been wanting to do that for a while now," he said, his voice low and husky.

You felt your face heat up, and you looked away, trying to play it cool. But Gojo just chuckled and pulled you closer, his arm wrapping around your shoulders.

"I'm glad I could help you with your studies," he said, his breath whispering against your ear. "But I think I'm going to enjoy helping you with other things even more."

You felt your heart soar at the suggestion, and you knew that you were in for a wild ride. With Gojo Satoru by your side, anything was possible, and you couldn't wait to see what the future held.

AAAHHHHHHHHHHH

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veria01 · 1 month ago

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Gojo x reader

Them making out???

The fluorescent lights of the Jujutsu Tech training grounds hummed, casting a sterile glow over the otherwise familiar space. Sweat slicked your forehead, clinging to stray strands of your hair. Across the room, Gojo Satoru leaned against a wall, his signature blindfold obscuring his electric blue eyes. He was supposed to be observing your training, but the way his lips quirked hinted at something more than just professional interest.

You had been pushing yourself, honing your cursed technique. It was a powerful ability, one that Gojo had taken a particular interest in nurturing. Channeling the residual energy through your hands, creating [Cursed Technique Description]. Exhaustion was starting to creep in, but the promise of a shared dinner with Gojo kept you going.

"Alright, that's enough for today," Gojo finally announced, pushing himself off the wall with a lazy grace that always made your heart skip a beat. He moved towards you, his white uniform pristine despite the gritty environment.

"Thanks, Gojo-sensei," You replied, your voice a little breathless. Wiping your brow with the back of your hand, trying to appear collected despite the way his presence made your pulse quicken.

"Don't mention it," he said, his voice a low murmur. He stopped directly in front of you, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from his body. His hand lifted, and he reached up to gently tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers brushed against your skin, sending a jolt of electricity through your body.

He didn't say anything, but the air between both crackled with unspoken tension. The teasing glint in his hidden eyes intensified, and a slow, captivating smile spread across his lips. You found yourself unable to look away, gaze fixed on the curve of his mouth.

Without a word, he leaned in. As you instinctively tilted your head, anticipating the touch. His lips met yours, a soft, hesitant pressure at first. The kiss deepened, and the initial gentleness gave way to a more ardent expression of his desire.

You responded, your own emotions mirroring his. Hands instinctively found their way to his chest, clutching at the fabric of his uniform as the kiss deepened. The familiar scent of his cologne, a mix of something clean and subtly intoxicating, filled your senses. The world seemed to fade away as the kiss intensified, and the two became one.

His fingers moved to the back of your neck, urging you closer. The kiss was passionate and consuming, a perfect blend of raw desire and tenderness. The taste of the faint remnants of the lollipop he had been eating earlier added more depth, but the sweet taste was nothing compared to the exhilaration of the kiss itself.

When you finally broke apart, both individuals were breathing heavily. Cheeks were flushed, and lips were swollen from the intensity of the kiss. Gojo’s blindfold remained in place, but the small smile on his face told you everything.

“Dinner?” he asked, his voice husky.

You nodded, unable to speak past the lingering thrill of their kiss. "Yes," you managed to say, voice barely above a whisper.

He offered his hand, and you took it, their fingers interlacing. As both walked out of the training grounds, hand-in-hand, the hum of the fluorescent lights seemed to fade away completely, replaced by the promise of something more.

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veria01 · 1 month ago

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Trouble Maker

Lloyd x reader

contains:jealousy,angst-ish,fluff,choking,oral,um smut,semi not really edited

this request is long overdue lmao

As tech support you did thinks like help Nya or jay with machinery,help Zane or Pixal with there software,give the ninja intel that could help them with a mission.This also included watching there every move thanks to borg putting in cameras everywhere in ninjago you can easily keep up with them and give them directions.

Your other job was seeing who they save or defeat.You make sure to put it in a file to see who’s more prone to danger or how the ninja can defeat a certain criminal easier.It made your life much easier.Though lately your starting to hate this file.Mainly the one with civilians.You set it up so you can see how much the ninja saved someone; tiring yes, beneficial to them also yes,annoying you definitely yes.

over that past couple of months there’s been this girl who kept getting in dangerous predicaments.At this point you think it intentionally because she only insisted on the green ninja saving her even going as far as pushing the other ninja or having a complete breakdown of its not the green ninja.

Today just happened to be another day with her putting herself in a silly situation and demanding the green ninja save her.Watching him jump to her rescue the bashful praise from her after it was slowly driving you to insanity.What kills you the most is when you point it out he just brushes you off.

“Tch,honestly i’m tired of this Tiblit take care of coms i’m going to my room.”you had stated as you slowly got up leaving the computer to your fox familiar.

Wandering down the hall you continue to think about the situation.Lloyd tends to be dense to the point it gets him in stupid or dangerous situations.For example trusting a serpentine….that didn’t end well.You would think he’d learn but at this point you think he just likes the attention.

You pause at your door for a moment ‘Attention’ you thought then suddenly you came up with a wonderful idea.You hurried into your room to plan out this wonderful idea.

————————————☆————————

You could see it in lloyds eyes, the annoyance directed towards you.Though you weren’t paying him any mind as y’all were in the check out.You two were supposed to grab some groceries for zane but the trip soon turned into you getting hit on by the cashier at the register.After the transaction(and the guy giving you his number) you and lloyd headed out with him huffing.

Honestly you would feel bad seeing as you been doing this for the past two weeks but at the same time him being annoyed is so funny especially when he pouts like a toddler.Sighing to yourself as you to wander back to the monastery you wonder if you should just stop seeing as he's still hasn’t confronted you.After a long travel of him staring daggers in you head and you acting oblivious you wander into your room to nap knowing you'll have to pull an allnighter to catch up on a couple documents.Stripping yourself of clothing to lay in your cool bed.As soon as your body made contact you felt your eyes heavily close.

Through you semi consciousness you felt weight on your bed along with the shuffling of the blanket that lifted a bit from you body letting the cool air prick at your exposed skin.choosing to ignore it knowing who it is you turn your body to face away from him to go back to sleep.

That dream was short lived when you were force onto your back eye forcing themself awake to see green to red eyes before you.Lloyd breathing is very harsh like you'd even say you see faint fog coming out with each breath.You slowly grow nervous about his behavior feeling sweat bead start to form you stutter out “W-what’s wrong lloyd?” All that followed was his eyes glinting towards you.you opened your mouth to say something only for him to shove his fingers down your throat gagging you.

Clenching your legs by impulse to soothe the aching that awakened in your nether regions.Your hand grab at his hand that currently assaulting your mouth.Lloyds mouth proceed to attack you body in bites and hickies.At some point he wanders farther down your chest his unattended arm gripped at your bra in a moment of shock he ripped it off your body.The impact mad you whine out in protest.His fingers moved out of your mouth letting you gasp for breath only for his hand to hold you throats.Shaking gulping you looked at his face that had a smirk and eyes that fully went red.You tried to make noise only for his hand to tighten up.”What? You wanted to say something to me?I don’t know why when you've been ignoring me for the past two weeks” he said with a cheeky tone that soon lead to gruff laugher “You don’t get to complain you did this to yourself”

You breathing slowly started to pick up either from excitement or fear.Your breath hitched when you felt him tearing your underwear off.While distracted his mouth slotted against yours fighting for dominance that you quickly lost.Your legs soon started to shift again to tame the heated feeling in between your legs.Lloyd quickly gripped your thighs separating them with force.You whined out at the cool air touching you fully exposed body.He released your mouth and moved lower to your slit.

His hot breath made you squirm with anticipation.Your eyes widened immensely at his hot long tongue that started to make out with your pussy.Your hands reaction was grabbing at his hair thought it did make him grunt it didn’t deter him from stopping.Your mind blanked out once his thumb started to mess with your clit.You soon started to moan out louder when his tongue intruded your insides.Your walls started tightening up around it while you impulsive grinded on his face to the best of your abilities in attempt to reach your climax that so close.

You nearly cried as soon as lloyd removed his mouth off of your edging you from your climax.He moved his face towards your mouth shoving his tongue against yourself letting you taste yourself.All while not noticing that he had pulled out his dick and tapped it on your clit.He rubbed against you collecting your juice to lubricate his dick.He grasps at your thighs spreading them wider while slowly entering you.You didn’t know whether to move with him or pull away from him.

The pain was there but it only made you much wetter as it was also pleasurable.He moved his thumb back to start messing with your clit again to add more stimulation.At some point his thick length made it to the base.He pause to let you adjust.While he was semi quietly groaning you were whimpering from the constant throbbing of his dick against your walls.His hands grasp at your waist slowly lifting you up.At instinct you wrap your arms around his neck slightly grasping at his hair in the process.

Lloyd subtly starts moving his hips, gaining speed as he goes.As he moves he leans his head next to yours nuzzling into your neck as he vigorously thrust into you.he lets go of one of your legs and pushes the one he still had his hands on closer toward your chest.He starts to fondle you breast while sucking on you neck and chest area once again.

The squelchy from the constant pounding is dizzying to hear plus y'all's moans combined made you tighten up.Your nails started to scratch at his back as you writhe from the pleasure.You soon felt that coil start to tighten making you moan out louder.He groaned at the sudden tightening of your walls.At this point you were just babbling random things while he took pleasure in utterly destroying you mentally and physically.

He speedup seeing as yall both were wreaking that peak.The coil tightening until if finally burst.You came to the point your mind blanked into white.He soon follow pouring his seed deep into your walls.Once yall paused for a moment he slowly pulled himself out letting his seed fall out of you.You sighed out heavily.Lloyd fell onto his back panting he used the last of his energy to pull you onto him.

————————————☆————————

It was quite after yall had caught your breaths.Lloyd gently rubbed you back while looking at the ceiling.Glazing your eyes up at him you made a giggling noise “Pfft you could have just told me you were pent up!”

Lloyd just glared at you unimpressed.He pinched one of your face cheeks and started pulling it back and forth putting you in discomfort. “You’re a brat,you know that right?!” he said in a monotone voice.You tried to say something along the lines of “im sorry” but struggled against your face being pulled.

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