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mrsdarkandyandere7 · 16 days

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(Dark!) BNHA: Toxic Relationship

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

Female Reader

Boys -> Hawks + Bakugo + Dabi + Deku

Reaction: Moments from your toxic relationship with your Pro-Hero boyfriend.

WARNINGS: Toxic Relationship; Abuse; Manipulation; Non-con.

AN: Please, reblog and give me feedback.

Let me know if you like this reaction format or what 🙂

–

Hawks

“Y/n is a real clutz, y’know. Can’t even walk on even ground without tripping over her own feet.”

Your cheeks flame with humiliation as the camera pans to the crowd that laughs heartily at the demeaning words, as if Keigo had dropped the funniest joke they’ve ever heard.

“That’s adorable.” the woman laughs, “Maybe it has something to do with the fact that she has no quirk? I believe you said she is quirkless, right?”

Keigo chuckles, nodding as he crosses an ankle over his knee.

“She sure is. Can’t even imagine what type of quirk she’d have, she’s just not the type.”

Your hand grips the remote tighter. What does he mean by that? Does he think you’re not good enough to have a quirk?

You consider turning off the TV, but fortunately the interviewer changes the subject. They casually speak about the current stance of heroes and their struggles on fighting off criminals and villains.

Keigo is charming as usual, delivering answers that are a perfect portrait of responsibility with a sprinkle of humor. He’s good like that, even though his previous answers left a bitter taste in your mouth.

Somehow, they end up reaching the topic of hobbies and free time.

“Going Pro Hero leaves little time for myself, so sadly I don’t really have much time for hobbies. Wish I had.” he says humbly. “My girlfriend has lots of them, though.”

You inhale sharply. Not again.

For your misfortune, the woman gets interested.

Perhaps because it’s an exclusive interview and her network channel gave her orders to squeeze every drop of information they can get on Hawks’ personal life.

“What type of hobbies? She looks like she’s a great cook.” she tries to guess, but Keigo bursts laughing, holding his belly in an exaggerated mannerism.

“Nah, cooking isn’t really her department. Burned eggs and half-cooked pancakes are more her style. She doesn’t even-”

You change channels in a heartbeat, bursting in tears at the low insults.

You’re not that bad. Sure, you’re not amazing at cooking, but never once did Keigo complain when he eats the food you diligently make after he returns from patrols.

And now he slanders you on national television?

And the worst part? It’s not even the first time he’s done this.

Dabi

“There’s nothing to eat in the fridge.”

“There is.”

“There isn’t.”

You stop writing your notes, swallowing back an annoyed sigh, already aware of what was happening.

“There is food in the fridge.” you repeat, “You just have to cook it.”

Dabi looks at you, unimpressed.

“No shit Sherlock. Maybe you can do it for me.”

“You serious?”

Meeting his arrogant smirk, you huff.

“Dead serious, babe. Not like you’re busy anyways.”

Your mouth drops at his audacity and you open your arms to indicate the mess of books, papers and pens in front of you.

“I’m studying, Dabi. Can’t you see that? Grow up and cook for yourself, yeah?” you snap your attention back to your books, but your mood has already turned sour.

You pretend to scribble down a few words when Dabi walks to you slowly. He peeks into your annotations, snorting.

“That handwriting is kinda shitty.” he mocks you. “Besides, what exactly are you even studying for? You’re not exactly cut out to be a doctor, y’know? Not enough brain cells in you to become that.”

You glare at him, angrily swatting away the hand that condescendingly tries to pet your hair.

“You’re such an asshole, Dabi. Maybe if your life revolved around something other than your stupid daddy’s issues, you would actually get a job. Not like Endeavour is worried sick about you, not when he’s got Shoto.” you spit the words venously.

Not the nicest words, but you can’t seem to bring yourself to bother.

A dark shade crosses Dabi’s face, his amused expression turning colder. You’d be lying if the sight didn’t ignite some fear in you.

“Is that so?” his crooked smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “And why would I need a job - or Endeavour, by that matter - when I have you?”

His hand reaches for your shoulder and there’s an edge in his eyes that immobilizes you. You shouldn’t have mentioned Endeavour.

“I’m not with you because of that bitchy attitude, you know. I like my girl to know who’s in charge. Respect is really important in a relationship and your behavior is making me really upset, baby.” his tone is scaringly soft, and his hand travels to your neck.

You hold your breath when the staples on his hand scratch against the delicate skin of your throat. “So, if you need me to remind you of your place, I’ll gladly help you with that.”

His fingers heat up at a low temperature, not enough to actually burn you but it doesn’t stop the lonely tear that slides from your eye, the only sign of the chilling terror you’re feeling.

He leans forward, kissing your forehead before sliding his hand away.

“Are we understood?”

The nod you give him is shaky at best, but Dabi smiles nonetheless.

“Now, how about that food you’re gonna make me?”

Bakugo

“I have to wake up early tomorrow.”

Besides a low hum, Bakugo doesn’t acknowledge you much, too busy French kissing your neck.

His hands head for your ass, provoking a wince in you when he gropes it with unnecessary strength, your left ass cheek being kneaded like it’s dough.

Katsuki uses his grip on your ass to push your hips forward even as you complain again. The thin fabric of his sweatpants does nothing to hide the hardness that shamelessly rubs against your thigh.

“Katsuki.”

Once again he gives no sign of hearing you, rolling his hips with more urgency and you barely catch the tired groan that almost rolls away from you.

The clock on your side reminds you that despite the early hour, you’ll only have 6 hours to sleep.

You really have to sleep and if you’re being honest, tonight you’re not feeling sexy or horny enough to sleep with your boyfriend.

But that doesn’t make you feel any less awkward when Bakugo’s movements turn more vigorous and needy, humping your naked thigh as if he’s fucking it while you remain as alive as a statue.

“Fuck, this isn’t enough.” he growls against your skin, and your heart skips a beat when his hands reach for your shorts, tugging them down halfway until you panickedly grab his wrist, wiggling your body away from his.

“Seriously, Kats, I’m not in the mood tonight.” you say, quickly pulling back your shorts.

“You fuckin’ serious right now?” he growls through gritted teeth, still hovering above you.

Crossing your arms over your chest, you timidly nod.

“Maybe we can do this tomorrow? It’s just that-”

“Yeah, whatever. Not like you haven’t used that stupid excuse on me before.”

Your eyebrows raise with surprise at the bitter tone on his voice as he gruffs, pushing himself off you.

“I’m not making up excuses.”

“The hell you aren’t.” he looks at you, angry. “Every time I try to start something, you turn into a damn nun. Always too freakin’ tired, too busy or not in the mood.”

He scowls, spiky blonde hair falling to his eyes.

“All you have to do is open your goddamn legs and let me do the rest, and you can’t even do that.”

His words hit a sore spot and he turns his back on you, settling on the distant side of the bed after delivering strained punches to the pillow to soften it up.

“Maybe I go after those Dynamite's groupies that are always throwing themselves at me. Since you never want to fuck anymore.”

You’re left too stunned to speak, sadness blossoming at the cruel meaning of his words and it’s a struggle to swallow the tears.

He wouldn’t really, would he? But your mind lingers on the disturbing thought. He’s popular with girls, even with his angry mood.

Bakugo is tall, muscular and not even the ever present scowl in his face is able to contradict the attractive facial features he’s been blessed with. Meanwhile you’re just mediocre, if even that...

Your insecurities strike back, taunting you.

Your hand reaches for his arm before you even realize it, and you’re mildly surprised when he doesn’t shake you off.

“The hell you want now?”

Pulling on his arm until he finally turns to the side, you kiss him.

He groans against your lips, allowing your hand to rest on the warm plane of his chest and you let it slide lower until it touches his clothed member.

Neither of you speak a word, but you feel Bakugo smirking against your lips while he practically shoves your shorts down.

You allow yourself go limp underneath him, letting your boyfriend fuck you in the way he wants to. Holding back a tired sigh when the fluorescent numbers on the clock mock you.

You really have to wake up early.

Deku

“Are you serious, Izuku?”

The tall hero jumps, eyes widening almost comically when he realizes you’re standing on the bedroom’s doorway and not cleaning the kitchen, like he clearly assumed you to be.

“I wasn’t- The phone-” he stammers with his words, plowing your phone onto the bed with a bit too much force.

Crossing your arms, you flash him a frustrated glare.

“You promised me you wouldn’t spy on my phone anymore, Izuku.” your stern tone has him frowning and Izuku practically sprints closer to you.

“I wasn’t spying! I was just- just checking the time.” his words aren’t convincing enough for you to actually believe in him.

You squint your eyes at him, dodging his grabby hands with a nasty slap, despite the hurt expression on his face.

“Izuku.”

“I wasn’t! C’mon, you gotta believe in me.”

You don’t.

“Even if I did go through your phone - which I didn’t - why would that be such a problem?” he complains, dragging his voice. “Do you have something to hide or what?”

You point a warning finger at him.

“Don’t you dare. This isn’t about me. You’re the one who went behind my back because you’re just too insecure to fully trust me.”

He shakes his head, emerald eyes turning feverish.

“You’re being dramatic, of course I trust you.”

“You don’t, stop lying.”

“I do trust you!” his voice rises in volume.

“No, you don’t!” you scream, voice breaking before you crumble in tears.

You’re exhausted. Of arguing, of dealing with Izuku, of everything. When did things turn so frustrating, so tiring? Why does he always have to ruin things for you?

Izuku curses under his breath before rushing to you, engulfing you in a comforting embrace as you cry on his chest.

“You don’t. You never will and I know that.” he stays silent, not contradicting you this time.

He lets you cry on his chest, his hand gently caressing your hair as he mutters apologies.

“I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry.” Izuku hugs you harder, arms tightening around you. “I’ll do better, okay? I promise, I will.”

And like a fool, you accept his promise - even if you know it’s meant to be broken.

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gojos-thot-patrol · 10 months

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HII!!! and happy birthday to you ♡♡ i love ur works sm, for ur special birthday event, could i request — ryomen sukuna, mean, " i love you, and you don't deserve that " ?? AGAIN, HAPPY BIRTHDAY AND HAVE THE BEST YEAR!! (｡>﹏<｡) feel free to change it up! you're the birthday author afterall<3

AHH these are late, but in my defense I got very drunk then had to work off the hang over lol.

that being said, thank you so much Nonny!! This is so sweet and I feel kinda bad because this one got pretty dark. Trigger warnings for Domestic abuse, non con/dub con implied, emotional abuse and manipulation, and yandere themes. you have been warned, Dead Dove, Do Not Eat.

Now Presenting...

Starring: An cold complicated Ryomen Sukuna, taking it out on a Reader that doesn't deserve it.

There were few things on this earth Sukuna found more vile than humans. Maggots, maybe, but at least maggots served a purpose- they were important to the nutrient cycling of many ecosystems. But what the fuck did human do? They destroyed with reckless abandon, conquered without a second thought, and bread like roaches to continue the destruction long after they were gone. They were creatures of hate. And maybe that’s why Sukuna couldn’t stand them. They were just a little too much like him.

That was all with one exception. Y/n was a human that challenged every thought he had about humans. She was kind and generous, but still not afraid to get her hands dirty for what she believed. She proved that much when she ran out to stop him from destroying some elders home of all fucking things. He didn’t know what was funnier, that she thought she could challenge him, with her meek frame and zero battle experience, or the look on her face when he threw her over his shoulder.

He had planned to throw her to his hoard of underling curses and let them tear her limb from limb. A fitting punishment he thought, she wasn’t really worth his effort. When he got to the throne room, he looked down at the writhing mass of curses below the tall platform his throne sat upon. He watched them all move as one, entangled together in a breathing wet sea of shit and hunger. They needed to eat.

And then he looked at her. The way she clung to his arm, the genuine terror in her eyes. She didn’t look like she had before on the battlefield, so willing to give her life to save another. Now she looked as if her entire being was made of ice and terror, as if she’d shatter if the breeze blew the wrong way. He felt a tightness in his chest, like some otherworldly being was pulling the sinew that laid there apart, cord by cord. And he threw her into his sleeping quarters instead.

And ever since that day all those months ago, Sukuna had been complicated. A fucking human complicated him, it was almost comical. He caught himself being vulnerable around her, and he coludn’t fucking stand it. For every quiet sweet moment they had, he had to double down with two or more acts of brutality to make himself feel better. Except, it never made him feel any fucking better, in fact it made him feel actively fucking worse. The betrayal and hurt behind your eyes always made him feel minuscule, and it only made his hate of you burn even brighter.

It was moments like these that made his skin crawl. When your head was resting on his chest, arms wrapped around your body as best as they could be, legs still trembling in the aftermath of your shared sin. When he realized his heart was calm, and his claws didn’t crave blood in your presence. His reaction to comfort was always visceral anger.

“Get off of me wench.” He growled, jerking his shoulder up and launching you out of your near sleep state. You looked so hurt.

“Oh, this again?” You muttered.

“And what the fuck is that supposed to mean, Whore?” Sukuna scoffed, unable to believe you felt comfortable enough to talk to him with such a tongue.

“Nothing.” You sighed, shaking your head and trying to turn away from him. You didn’t get very far before his talons were digging into your shoulder, forcing you to face him again.

“No no, If you’re going to say something, say it. Don’t try to take the cowardly way out now.” He warned. You shook your head, knowing better than to make eye contact right now.

“I just don’t want to fight-”

“Oh, you think this is a fight?” He laughed, “that would almost be cute if it wasn’t so pathetic.We don't fight Y/n. You forget your place, and I remind you of it. Fighting implies you to be my equal, which you never will be.” he said, his voice dripping in condescension and laced with contempt. His poison shot straight into your heart, coursing through your blood and to your tongue. You were so tired of his bull shit.

“Oh, really?! Is that what happens?!” You laughed back to keep from crying, “Because from my view, You realize you have a heart and get so scared of it, you have to hurt someone smaller than you to feel like a man aga-!” Yea, you weren’t shocked when he struck you. You held your face, knowing there would be a bruise you could take fingerprints off of forming. You’d long since become used to his treatment. He grabbed you by your hair, yanking you to look at him. You could feel individual follicles being pulled from their roots as he raised you off the bed, as he drank in your scream as if it was the finest of wine.

“Listen here Brat,” Ryomen always had a way of making even the most mundane words cut into your soul, “You’d do well to remember who the fuck you are talking to when you speak to me. I am not your friend, I am not your lover, you are fucking nothing to me. You’re less than nothing to me. Wrong me a-fucking-gain and your villiage won’t stop finding pieces of your body.” He snarled, throwing you off the bed.

You braced for impact, but that still didn’t stop the collision from sending sharp waves of anguish through your already bruised ribs. You took in a sharp breath and tried to keep the tears swelling in your eyes from spilling over. He wanted you to cry. You wouldn't give him that satisfaction. You got to your hands and knees as quickly as your body would let you, then sat up as best as you could.

“Do you know what your problem is Sukuna?” You mumbled from the floor. He raised an eyebrow at you, genuinely shocked you had more to say after that. Normally, physical violence shut you up pretty quick.

“And what is that Y/n?” He asked. You took an edge breath in.

“Your problem is that you don’t want to keep being a warlord. You’re tired of it, it bores you, you want to do something else. You found something that only makes that feeling stronger. And you can’t stand it! Because you don’t know who you are. You have no idea who Ryomen Sukuna is without the power and the blood thirst, and that fucking terrifies you.” Sukuna didn’t even argue, and he wasn’t surprised you read him so clearly. You had always seen through him as if he was nothing more than a fragile bubble.

“And do you know what my problem is?” You growled. You waited all of 3 seconds before responding to his silence, “My problem is that I love you. And you don’t deserve that.” A chuckle left Sukuna, but it was humorless. His eyes didn’t hold any anger or angst, he looked as if he was made of stone. He finally got up from the bed, and moved to you. He crouched down to be at your level.

“Things are only going to get worse for you from here on out. I hope you're prepared.” he said, zero emotion making its way to his voice or eyes. He pushed you onto your back before standing up again and leaving the room. Once he was back in his own sleeping quarters, he punched a hole in his wall.

How fucking dare you tell him you loved him! Who the fuck did you think you were?! And why the fuck would you confess that after he threw you to the fucking ground? As if you were nothing more than a used cum rag! He roared as he ripped some random piece of art off the wall and smashed it against the floor, splintering the wooden frame. Your words kept echoing in his head, phantoms that wouldn’t let him rest. I love you, and you don’t deserve it.It made him sick. Because he didn’t deserve it. And because he loved you too, and you truly didn’t deserve that.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #ryomen sukuna #sukuna ryomen #sukuna x reader #ryomen x reader #yandere sukuna #true form sukuna #tw: toxic behavior #tw: toxic relationships #tw abuse #dead dove do not eat #sukuna angst #sukuna x reader angst #nobody likes you when you're 23

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dearramiel · 1 year

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billy desperately trying to babytrap his girl after she tries to break up w him🤭

This is so good.

✧ - baby trapping, subconscious manipulation, verbal abuse, violent!billy, billy is overprotective, obsessive, and possessive, implied stalker! billy, mentions of billy beating up jason tommy h & some other guy, controlling behavior, toxic relationship, gaslighting, guiltriping, unprotected sex( piv), breeding, cockwarming, mentions of tampering with birth control but it doesn't actually happen, hint of fluff at the end,

Billy's infatuation with you starts the very first day he looks at you, a beautiful, shy, charismatic girl who he could bend at will. He knew he would have you, it wasn't even a matter of how but when.

He was good at orchestrating everything, from the very first time you talk, the heated kisses, and first time hooking up. Billy wasn't your first, but you sure as hell felt like a virgin the first time you took him. He made you feel good, loved, he was sweet, caring, and charming. Just two months in, everything had changed. From the very beginning he knew you were different than other girls he had been with, he never had a girlfriend, and it hit him like a shock. He started acknowledging how much depth his love went, at first it was just him messing around with another girl, but he had gone way off track.

It was hard not to, you had been the only girl to care for him, rather than his dick. You were different. You treated him different than any other person.

It wasn't all on him anyway, you weren't stupid, you knew what Billy's intentions were from the beginning, he'd never once talked to you, but it began to get hard to let go when he kept you around, not shoving you through his window after hooking up, not pretending like you didn't exist when he walked by you at school, offering rides after he proposed in exchange for him to be lenient on Max being late, or even how he had stopped going after other girls.

Everything was so sweet, until he let the intrusive thoughts in.

He started asking who the people you talked to were, walking you to classes you didn't have together during passing period, insisted on driving you to work after school, picking you up and dropping you off home.

Eventually his obsession turned violent, going after Jason Carver after finding you two together during a pep rally, a big misunderstanding that could have been avoided had he just asked what you were bringing to him.

Billy had become somewhat self aware of what he was doing, quickly becoming insecure, and hateful. But he couldn't help it, because he genuinely loved and cared for you, he wanted you all to himself, this sweet girl who let him in. He was good at guilt guiltriping you with that, telling you how much he loved you.

It made you feel restless, having to make sure you weren't talking to specific people he didn't like, making sure not to stare too long at some other guy, spending all your free time with him, letting him know that there was a test you had to make up before going to work. You felt like your life was being controlled, and inviting him over while no one was home was your biggest mistake.

Spring break had just started, it was a Saturday evening when Billy had received the call. Of course he'd pull up to his girlfriends house in under 10 minutes, especially when she gave the "It's important and serious.".

Billy was rapidly knocking on the door, yelling your name, and when you open to let him in, he can tell that something really is wrong.

You're spouting nonsense to him, being so annoying, talking about how he doesn't love you, and that he's obsessed with you. Part of which was really wrong, because Billy did love you. He just had this horrible way of showing it.

It doesn't take long for you to get him angry, he begins yelling back. Saying that Carver, Tommy H, and Smith deserved getting their asses flipped. To which you yell that he shouldn't go about fixing things with violence.

"I just can't do this."

And he snaps, eyes blurring, warm droplets falling to his neck, when he blinks he realizes that he's crying. And it has you shocked.

"What?" His voice is small and broken, it almost has you wanting to take back what you've said. But it's hard to do so, because he's scared you already.

"No, please no." He cries as he reached out to you, wrapping his arms tightly around your body, another act that shocks you, he's never been one to initiate affection. He's almost cradling you, "Can't lose you, please don't."

You're not sure if it's an act, one to lure you in, but you take the bait anyway. Because while the ideas of what he's capable of to the extent of his love terrify you, you also remember that you do love him too. That he's never once laid a hand, or ever been physically abusive to you.

"I'm sorry Billy, I didn't mean it. It's just, you scare me sometimes!"

Anguish breaks into his body, when the realizations kick in. It's a thought that's etched into his mind, the fact that you've thought about leaving him. The fact that you even said it.

"I'm sorry baby, let me make it up to you please.. I promise I'll take care of you." His tone sends shivers down your spine, it's the one he always uses, it messes with you subconsciously and you never picked up on it.

You nod your head rapidly, breathing in deeply when Billy's teeth gently sink into the flesh on the side of your neck. Your panting reels him in further, letting him take full control of your body.

You don't even know how you ended up on your back, in your room, and on your bed, both you and Billy fully nude. Both your bodies decorated with bites and love marks. You're crying into the air as Billy's cock is shoved into your aching tight hole. You can feel every inch of him, to the point where you swear you feel his tip hit up snuggly against your cervix, and Billy swears he feels it too, because he begins a brutal pace. Mouth stealing a heated kiss from you. Between the messy kiss, your stuttering moan fills his ears.

"Fuuuuckkk, Billyyy! M'gonna cum!" You whimper, arms and legs wrapping around his body, pulling him to you, almost inviting him further inside you. He's reaching the deepest he can, he's never been or even felt so feral during sex. Both his hands were clenching harshly onto the pillow your head was rested on, he's using it as stability to continue thrusting so hard and fast, he feels like he's also about to cum.

"Yeah? Then cum, need to feel you all over me." The thought alone is enough to send you spiraling, a gush of liquid seeps out, drenching and covering his abdomen and cock in your cum. A long moan rips through you, your walls clamp so tightly around Billy that it only takes a couple more thrusts before his cock plunges into the deepest part of you.

"Fuuck! Babe'm gonna cum, cunt is all mine, gonna breed you so they know you're mine. You want that, don't you?" He groans into your ear, burying his face into your neck, your response is nonverbal, it's just you frantically nodding your head up and down before you decide to speak up.

"Yes! Please, Billy, want you to make me yours!" You babble, then it happens cum begins filling up your insides until you feel full. Billy's weight drops on you then, cum still spurting a few more times before he is absolutely spent.

You can feel him soften inside you, little bits of cum threatening to spill out. The feeling has you whimpering, it's then that Billy remembers he's still inside you. When he goes to lift himself up, a whine is heard from you.

"Billy.. no, don't go.. please. Wanna stay with you like this." You beg, your tired eyes droopy, your arms still holding him tightly.

"Not going anywhere baby. Love you so much." He slurs, high of sex, leaving kisses all over your face.

"I love you too, Billy.. so much.."

He had you right where he wanted you.

Those condoms he planned to poke holes into weren't really necessary after all.

#billy hargrove x reader smut #billy hargrove smut #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove #stranger things x reader smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things smut #tw: baby trapping #tw: toxic relationships #tw: toxic behavior #tw verbal abuse #dark!billy #dark! billy hargrove #dark!stranger things

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call-memissbrightside · 7 months

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I think Katsuki would be too scared to pull the trigger on the relationship

He will realize he just doesn’t love you anymore but can’t get the words out: I want to breakup

He’s never been the dumped, just the dumpee

Katsuki needs a reason to hate you, some sign to prove to the ugly voices in his head that you were a huge waste of his time

Breakups were never easy, but if you flicked the spark, he’d bring the light show

It starts off small, he’ll ignore your texts and calls

He’ll cancel date after date, Katsuki would allow his insecurities to get the best of him and accuse you of cheating when in reality he’s the one who got back on that stupid dating app

Then the fights will spill out, and Bakugou will fire up his excuses of why he’s not the problem, you are

No matter, soon you break up with him and Katsuki will spin it all in his favor, telling his friends, “oh y/n? Nah, i was too mature for her, so she left.”

#tw: toxic relationships #bnha bakugo katsuki #katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo katuski #bnha bakugou #mha bakugou

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iloveaustinelvisandmannymore · 3 months

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Warning: Toxic relationship, Dub-con, Slapping, Name calling.

Model!Toji who didn't care or wanted to know you. You were just another fashion designer assistant, too boring to notice. Wearing a black pencil skirt and a simple white blouse, with your hair up, and nerdy glasses. Again nothing special.

Model!Toji who stared ahead as the make-up artist dapped lip balm on his already soft lips regardless of the cut on his lip. His light emerald orbs snapped to the sudden yelling and you poor thing was being screamed at for something as stupid as getting the wrong color but his eyes widened. Your hair was down, and the normal blank blouse was a bold color that made your skin pop, and those teary eyes, sparkled. His cock stirred to live.

Model!Toji who rushed off after you ran away, tears sliding down your cute cheeks. Who followed you into the restroom. This was perfect! You were emotionally vulnerable and would be so easy, all he had to was ask "ya okay, doll?" as he inched closer. "I can make the pain go away. What do ya say?" he smirked as he kissed your neck before kissing would a fiery passion.

Model!Toji wanted you to only be a fling, yet when he saw you shyly tucked your hair before your ear, smiling all cutely at the ground as another model flirted with you. An almost blind rage took control and before he knew it he was storming toward you and pushing the guy away from you, hard on his shoulder as the nameless model opened his mouth to complain but stopped himself once he saw the pure murderous glint in Toji's eyes.

Model!Toji who grabbed your wrist and dragged you into an empty changing room, threw you against the vanity and gripped your jaw harshly. "Ya think you can act like a slut and pimp yourself out, doll? Well, you gotta another thing comin'." He snarled, his other hand ripping your shirt like it was paper. "W-wait, no i-." you gasped as your head snapped to the side and your cheek stung as he slapped you.

Model!Toji growled "Lies." he pulled your skirt down impatiently and laughed as he spotted your slick-coated underwear "You are a slut." he pushed your panties to the side before standing up and pulling his pants down. His thick, fat cock twitched up your glaze, a pearl of pre-cum dripped for his hardened dick, and the tip such a pretty rose pink.

You screamed as he lined up to your entrance, and slammed into you, strong enough that the vanity shook below you. Your thighs were held against his hard chest, his hips rolling and grind at each thrust.

"You're fuckin' mine now."

#tw: toxic relationships #tw: physical abuse #tw: dubcon #fushiguro toji x reader #toji smut #toji fushiguro #jjk toji #toji fushiguro smut #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x you #toji x reader #toji thirst

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sumeruin · 1 year

Note

i feel like i sped ran all of ur posts i’m in luv <33 do u think i could maybe… be…🫧-anon??

anyways here’s me little brainrot on scaramouche/wanderer bc i love him

pervy!scara who would hide u under his desk during fatui meetings and make you suck and kiss his cock, all the while you have to hold back whimpers in fear of being discovered :((

yandere!scara who would slowly isolate you from everyone else until you feel abandoned :( but don’t worry! he’s dealt with plently of betrayals, all you need is him!

thinking about a yan!scara x touch starved/traumatized reader scenario. reader genuinely loves scara, and all their past trauma just makes them that much more attached to him. they look past all the red flags and think that this is the best thing for them!! Of course, scara is happy to receive the love, and gladly gives them everything they want :)) scara controls readers surroundings just to make them that much more attached and needy for him and his help! what a good boyfriend he is!

minor writing smut, dni if uncomfortable!!!

omg nonnie!!! ofc you can be 🫧 anon!!! i will write about these in order they’re just too good :(

tw: noncon/dubcon idrk which one of the two to classify this as, i think that’s it tbh

i love love love the idea of pervy scara!!!! and i think it’s just that much better when it’s not in an au or anything so that there’s the power difference of him being a harbinger :( he’d make sure he got to the meeting before anyone else just so that he could feel your mouth wrapped around him during the boring discussions that just seem to drag on for so long :( if he thought you were having it too easy he’d quickly thrust up his hips, just enough to make you gag around him though, he does still have a reputation to keep :(

tw: yandere, heavy stockholm syndrome, like really heavy, like that’s almost entirely what this part is about you’ve been warned, isolation

i think he’d be the most likely to do this out of all the genshin yanderes, he’s just so so mean and so so lonely (and tbh a little bit pathetic and soggy but that’s part of his charm) he wouldn’t want you to look at anyone but him :( i think if his usual punishments with pain and degradation weren’t working he’d even take it a step further and leave you alone in a room for however it takes you to break :( he’d bring you 3 meals a day and plenty of water though!! he’d just ignore you whenever you tried to touch him or even just talk to him :( he’d look at you like you like you’re just a disgusting speck of dirt to him, and that’d continue until eventually you’d break and end up begging him to talk to you, to touch you again, to just do something so that you know you aren’t completely alone :( i think if what you did to deserve that punishment was bad enough he’d let it go in past that point, waiting until you’re clinging to his clothes, full on sobbing for him to pay attention to you again, and physically not letting him leave, then he’d bend down and gently wrap you up in his arms, cooing soft praises and sweet little nothings at you while he reassures you that, “shh, shh, it’s all ok, i’m here now, you don’t have to be scared anymore. i’ll take care of you, it’ll be just how it’s supposed to be.” :( he’d run you a nice, warm bath and pretend like he wasn’t also the one who did this to you, still holding you in his arms and whispering sweet, comforting little words and phrases in your ear :(

tw: yandere, kinda sorta stockholmish??? definitely not as bad as the last one but it’s kinda there, toxic relationships

i think this one is especially good with scara cause i think he’d be just so sad whenever his darling is mean to him, so when you actually, genuinely love him for who his is, obsessiveness and all, he’s overjoyed!! and he’s even more excited when you seek him out yourself and ask him for cuddles or a kiss or even just to sit next to him for a while :( i think he’d try to test you in the early stages of your relationship, just to make sure you aren’t pretending to love him back while you secretly plan to leave him. poor scara has trust issues, can you really blame him? :( besides, he’s made all his red flags more than clear by now, if you’re dumb enough to ignore them then that’s no skin off his back. after he decides you’ve passed his tests he’d become a lot more comfortable showing his true colors with you, gradually adding more rules and restrictions to your schedule, not letting you leave the house unless you’re with him, adding a lock to the outside of your bedroom door and not letting you have a key, making sure to always keep some rope around “just in case” :( eventually, it’d turn into you not being allowed to leave the house at all, and you constantly being in his arms or tied up when he can’t hold you himself. he knows you won’t mind as long as he continues to ravish you with his love and attention though. you’re just so perfect for him, how did he get so lucky? :(

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del-thetiredwriter · 1 year

Text

Close to you yet so far away

Part 2?

Warnings: cheating,swear words, my bad writing…

Cheater husband Daemon Targaryen x wife reader

English is my second language

You entered the pleasure house with hard and fast steps. You went upstairs, ignoring the moans of the mens and womens making love around. The corridor was filled with the groans of a woman. You stopped. A bunch of prostitutes were watching a couple making love through holes in the walls. The woman's moans got louder.

“All of you leave! Now!” You shouted at the prostitutes.

When the womens saw you, they immediately ran away. You suddenly opened the door angrily. Your husband 'Daemon' and his beloved mistress Mysaria were together as always. Seeing them naked and together like that was enough to make you nauseous .

“Tch, can you leave . I have things to talk about with this man,” you said sternly to your husband's mistress.

"Why are you here Y/n" said your husband Daemon

“Don't worry, I'm not here because I want to. Tell your mistress to leave us alone unless you want me to repel my anger with you and her."

Daemon then gave you a cold look and Mysaria left you alone.

“So why did you come? Have you been so lonely alone, are you here to be fucked by a man?

“Don't confuse me with you or your mistress and the other womens here. Unlike you, I'm not a dog in heat. And put on something”

Daemon gave you a stern look and grinned.

"Well, my dear 'wife', why did you come?" ' Daemon asked sarcastically.

'My wife,' what would you give to hear this word from him with love and compassion. You grit your teeth.

"Are you stupid. What does ‘heir for a day’ means? Don't you understand how angry the king will be. He can take you out of the heir position. You think you're going to be his heir forever. You've seriously crossed the line this time! You will go to the king early tomorrow morning and give him your most sincere condolences, you understand? Pray that he doesn't take you from your position of Commander of the City Watch!"

Daemon laughed.

“My brother, the king has no heirs but me Y/n don't worry in vain.”

“I hope so but I don't think so. Right now, after these words, there is only one reason for you to be alive: to be the king's brother. Otherwise you would be dead right now. If there was anyone else, who made such a mockery at his time of pain, they would not be alive at all.” And you left in a rage.

When you get home, you run into you haven't seen in a long time friend Elaena, who is waiting in front of your room's door. When your friend saw you, she ran to hug you. You and Elaena have been friends since childhood. Your last meeting was three years ago, 1 day before you married to Daemon.

“Umm, Y/n I really missed you but is it okay if I sleep with you tonight? I mean your husband-"

“Forget him anyway, it doesn't even make sense him to come home, let alone come to my room. I also miss the time we fell asleep while drinking and chatting together like in the old days.”

Elaena laughed at your answer.

An hour later you were completely drunk. Unlike Elaena, you drank heavily in anger at your conversation with Daemon in the pleasure house.

You slammed your glass on the table.

“I can't understand it. Why is he treating me like I'm his enemy? I want to help him.”

You started to whine. Elaena looked at you pityingly. You didn't deserve to be in this situation.

Actually, you weren't that hard on him at first. When you were engaged to him, you worked hard just to be a suitable wife, went so far as to learn high Valyrian but you were eventually left alone on the wedding night. Maybe if you try a little harder, you thought that even if he doesn't love you the way you love him, maybe he won't treat you like you are invisible, but in the end you learned the hard way that he will never love you, no matter how hard you try, you will never get paid for your efforts. You caught him making love to Mysaria, but you did nothing. You couldn't. So you stopped caring for him and act coldly towards him but in the end you were still in love with him desperately.

“Do you know what’s the worst parts is, Elaena.in the end I’m still in love with him.I am in love with a man who will never love me, a man who is as close to me as he is far from me, the man who is my husband.”

“Sir, shall I inform madame that you have arrived?”The butler asked not knowing what to do.

"There's no need. I'll see her tomorrow." said Daemon.

“Close to you, yet so far away ha” Daemon laughed bitterly.

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undertale-writing-times · 11 months

Note

Is it possible to have the yandere prompt "I'm madly in love with you!!" with Nightmare?

I just think it'd be interesting if he tried to deny that he had these "pure" feelings - said feelings are more corrupt than pure - for a human, and that he eventually just snaps and finally succumbs to what he actually wants; them. He is a King and a God of negative emotions, so of course he will take this human for his own. Why shouldn't he indulge himself and claim what he desires?

Here we go! I hope you like this ^^ I thought it turned out interesting.

Nightmare had a problem.

A thing that he would never want to admit, not even to himself. It was something that always appeared in the back of his mind, and he hated the fact that it did.

He had a crush on someone.

At first, he really had no idea what the feelings were. He thought that it was just interest! He really did but then his body started to feel weird whenever the person was around. It felt like he needed to be near them.

Nightmare really thought that they did something to him, did something to make his body feel the way that it did, and he thought about killing them so he wouldn't have to feel those weird feelings anymore but, for once, he decided to wait... wait and watch.

That was a while ago, and now he knew what the feelings he felt were.

He loved them.

He was in love with a human, a soft and squishy creature. He knew that most humans were dark creatures, they spread negativity and hated even their own kind for stupid reasons.

So many people hated each other for the people that they love, their skin color, or even where they were born! It was idiotic but it gave him a lot of negative feelings, so it was good for that at least.

Y/n was someone that lived in one of the AUs that Nightmare had been watching, one that he thought at first about stealing from and leaving for dead but then he saw them, and it was like his body wanted to be near them. The feeling startled him, and he closed the portal so he wouldn't have to see that and tried to calm down.

After that, he started to look at the world more often. He would lie and say that he was waiting for a good time for them to go but pick other places and just watch that one.

He was fairly sure that his underlings thought he just enjoyed watching that one, like how Error watched this one that was... Spanish, he thinks?

Whatever, he didn't care about that.

Nightmare tried his best to ignore the feelings. He tried to focus on other things but each and every day, he would look at Y/n, and fall harder and harder for them. He hated seeing them talk to other people, he hated seeing them with others. Those people didn't deserve to be even remotely close to them.

Y/n deserved so much, and he believed that he would be the only one to be able to do that for them! They would be so happy with him, right? He wouldn't allow them to feel any negative emotions, he would be able to take them away... and they'd be happy, right?

Finally, after almost... two years of watching them, he figured out what he should do. He took his boys to the AU, telling them to go crazy and to get everything that they needed and left to go get Y/n.

He was sure that the rest of his group would be able to handle this, it wasn't like they could fail, right? They better not fail. He would not be proud of them, if they did.

He could hear people shouting and running away, most likely one of his underlings attacked a random person... they often did whenever he told them to go crazy. Best to do in their mind, if he ever wanted to be sneaky, he would just take Error and Killer the other two aren't the best for being... sneaky.

As he was walking, the sounds around him were a little annoying... he looked around, humming softly under his breath, he knew that Y/n would be here. They always worked at this place around that time... he saw them peeking around a corner, making him smile and he moves his tentacles quickly, wrapping around them and lifting them off the ground.

They start to shout so he moves his tentacle to cover their mouth "Ah ah, it would be best for you, if you did not scream. I don't like loud sounds, myself" He pulls them over looking up at them, studying them humming softly. "You're even more beautiful in person..." he mumbles to himself, mostly.

Against their best judgement, he noticed the fact that their cheeks flushed at that, causing him to laugh softly. Aww... isn't that cute?

He reaches up, touching their cheek then lets his fingers drift down to their chin. "I would hate to have to hurt you, you're so breath taking to me. I think you'd be happy to be mine, wouldn't you? It isn't like the others would be able to treat you as well as I can"

They try to say something around the tentacle over their mouth, kicking their legs at him so he rolls his eye and wraps the other tentacle around their legs and starts to walk. "I never thought I would ever feel this way for anyone... let alone a human." he pulls them closer to himself, looking at them with a relaxed smile, tracing his finger along their jaw, "I'm madly in love with you, it seems..." they shiver at his touch.

Once he and his underlings left that AU, and got back to his own world, he walked to one of the rooms and set Y/n in there. "There are clothes in the closet for you, I would love for you to wear them. Get comfortable, I tried to get everything I thought you would enjoy" and closed the door, locking it then he left to go and tell his underlings about Y/n.

They already saw them, of course, but they had no idea who this random human was. He, honestly, was quite happy to explain that Y/n was his datemate and the newest queen of the multiverse.

If they ever lash out at him, or tell him that they don't want to be in this world anymore, that they miss people back where they came from? He's going to get quite angry himself. Why would they even want to go back there?! He's been treating them so well! He will tell them that everything he's done for them, they should be happy he did it.

He could have easily killed them, break them.

If they ever try to run away, or leave his castle, he wouldn't really care. There's no way that they could leave the area around the castle, this world was empty other than his castle but, honestly, the idea of them running away fills him with rage and once he sends one of his underlings to get them back, he'll punish them. Either a few days without food, or something of that sort. Depending on how annoyed he is with them, is how bad the punishment will be and who he will send for them.

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floatyflowers · 22 hours

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Dark! House Of The Dragon x Game of Thrones! Reader|Part 1

(⚠️ sucide)

In your former life, you were the twin sister of Joffrey and you were wed to Robb Stark.

However you choose to stand on your husband's side when war erupted.

The problem is your mother and your twin didn't like that at all.

So, Roose Bolton kills Robb and Catelyn.

He was planning on returning you to your mother, but you ended your life before he could do so.

You didn't imagine that you would be reborn in the past as the twin sister Of Jacearys Velaryon.

Even in this life, you were born as a bastard.

Yet, Rhaenyra is an amazing mother, and so are your new brothers.

Unlike cruel Joffrey who used to hit you whenever you refused his advances, Jace would only treat you kindly and is overprotective.

And Lucerys reminded you of Tommen.

You also adore baby Joffrey and don't care about how his name is the name of your previous twin.

But there is one problem you tried to fix in Luke and Jace and this was bullying Aemond.

But they took Aegon as their role model.

Unlike Targaryens, you refused to interact with your dragon because you were simply afraid.

You even own a cat, who you enjoy spending time with instead of the dragon.

Aegon reminded you greatly of Joffrey, never the less, Aegon wasn't a psycho.

He wouldn't waste a moment in teasing you day and night.

"One day you will become my wife"

Rhaenyra happened to hear what he said one time, and immediately betrothed you to Jace. Despite how much you refused the idea.

When Luke deforms Aemond, you quickly try to control the situation like a Lannister.

"This was not anyone's fault but mine, As the eldest twin I should have been watching over them all"

Everyone is shocked by your words, meanwhile Rhaenyra wanted to intervene, same with Daemon who believed that the Hightowers deserves nothing.

however, you get down on your knees in front of Alicent, after taking the Targaryen's ancestral dagger.

"Take one of my eyes instead, I hope it's more then enough repayment"

Of course, Alicent doesn't do that, you only earned the Queen's love with such brave action.

Viserys' is happy at how you defused the situation.

Those actions made everyone obsessed with you.

#tw: toxic relationships #reader insert #platonic yandere #yandere house of the dragon #daughter reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen x reader #jacaerys velaryon x reader #house of the dragon

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mrsdarkandyandere7 · 1 month

Text

Lover's Quarrel

Pairing: Dark (aged-up) Katsuki Bakugo x (female) Reader

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

Female Reader

SUMMARY: You get away from Bakugo’s toxic clutches. But soon your peace comes to an end.

WARNINGS: Toxic Relationship; minor Violence/Abuse.

AN: Please, reblog and give me feedback.

I just realized today is his birthday, so here it is :) hope you guys like this.

–

“...you better damn pick up my calls, (Y/N). I’m losing my patience here so you better get that fucking attitude out of your system or I’ll do it for you. Swear to god I’m gonna drag your stupid ass back home if you don’t come to your damn senses and if you fucking think that-”

You press a button, closing the voicemail with a sigh. Throwing your phone to the bed’s edge, you turn your back to it, curling yourself into a ball.

Your mind is an unstable whirlwind of thoughts and worries and a solitary tear rolls down your face. It’s not fair.

None of this is fair.

You pull the blankets over you, but even their warmth isn't enough to calm the cold that scatters through your body.

A sob breaks your composure and you hastily push your face into the pillow, smothering down the ugly sobs and whines that break out.

It takes a long time until your eyes are finally dry and you have no more tears to weep.

But even afterwards, as you finally fall asleep, the heavy feeling still weighs on your heart.

Ding.

Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding.

Your friend looks at you and you’re quick to mute the notifications that pop up, eyes catching sight of the messages that Bakugo is spamming you before you black the screen.

“I know I’ve asked before, but is everything really okay?” she asks, ignoring the movie on display in favor of looking at you, a concerned wrinkle settling between her brows.

“You seem… so distracted ever since you came. Is it about Bakugo?”

You shift on the couch, uncomfortable.

“It’s nothing.” you hesitantly tell her, measuring your words carefully. None of your friends know about the depth of Bakugo’s dark side and you’d rather not involve them.

Even though you’re almost sure that she suspects something is up, especially with the unannounced way you dropped by unannounced a couple of days ago, asking if you could stay a few days.

“You can tell me, you know that, right? I’m not gonna judge or whatever.”

You nod, giving her a small smile but no words come out of you despite the hefty weight on your mind. You don’t want to burden her with your problems.

“I know, don’t worry. We’re just giving it some time. Lover’s quarrel and all.” you try to joke even though there's no humor in your smile.

"I see, okay." your friend draws a small smile, hesitating for a moment before letting it be.

Work drags far too slowly.

Boring paperwork to be filled, a few documents that need reviewing.

Nothing that actually manages to successfully distract you away from your current problems. If anything, it leaves you with far too much time for your mind to wander through your situation.

A definitive break-up is more complicated than what it seems as you’re aware that Bakugo won’t peacefully accept that.

Just the idea of having to deal with an even angrier Katsuki has you cowering further into your chair and you distract yourself by opening your work email, digging into the emails that need to be answered.

You’ll think about Bakugo later.

“Later” arrives much earlier than what you expect.

When the clock hits 6 p.m you reluctantly turn off the computer, gathering your jacket and your purse.

When you check your phone out of habit, the lack of messages surprises you. Strange.

Maybe Bakugo is finally catching the hints that you want to be left alone? You sure hope so.

You couldn’t be more wrong about it and you almost jump when your co-worker shrieks in delight, nudging your arm as you retrieve your car keys from the purse.

“Oh god, he’s so cute, damn. Seems like someone was eager to see you.”

Your heart drops at the sight of the blonde man that leans against your car, crimson eyes fixed on you.

“You’re so lucky. My boyfriend never comes to pick me up.” she whines before finally saying a distracted goodbye, throwing adoration filled glances at Bakugo when she walks away.

For a moment, you consider leaving your car in the open parking-lot. You could take the bus to your friend’s apartment. It would be no big deal, only half an hour before reaching her place.

But the impassive expression on your boyfriend’s face warns you not to ignore him and you don’t doubt Bakugo’s ability to cause a overly explosive scene right in front of your workplace.

Your legs walk on their own towards him and he straightens up, pushing himself off the hood as he walks to you, meeting you half-way, far too close for your comfort.

He’s wearing civilian clothes, you notice. They make his firm muscles bulge from beneath the thin material, the veins in his arms popping out with his hands hidden in the pant’s pockets, as always.

“What do you want?”

“Can we talk?” he asks.

“Talk then.”

Irritation seeps into Bakugo’s face. He’s never had much patience.

“We can talk in your car. The keys.”

Despite his stretched hand, you don’t deposit the keys in his palm. It’s your car. It’s your life. You have to fight for it.

“Y/n.”

You take a step back, shaking your head.

“If you wanna talk, then we can talk here. Out in the open.”

The corner of his mouth twitches with ire, and it compels you to take another tiny step away from him.

“Will you stop fucking stepping away from me?” his voice booms loudly through the empty parking lot, eliciting a wince from you. “Quit acting like I’m gonna beat you to a bloody pulp or somethin’. I’m just trying to take you back home, you idiot.”

“But I’m not going back.”

“You are.”

You clench your teeth, hoping it would help ease out the incoming flow of angry tears that threatens to spill at any moment now.

“I said. I’m not going back.”

Bakugo ignores your words, losing his patience upon your refusal.

“Like hell you aren’t. I’ve had enough of this stupid attitude of yours.”

His hand latches to your wrist, holding it in a bruising grip, tight enough for you to feel the bones in your hands being painfully compressed together.

“Ah, Katsuki, you’re hurting me!” you cry out, attempting to release his grip by using your free hand.

But your fingers are far too weak to pull him away and he groans when your nails scratch him. It makes him grip your hand harder and you sob, body limpless following forward when Bakugo tugs you in his direction.

You bump into his hard chest, head sharply pulled back with his callous hand enveloping the back of your neck, his large palm easily covering all of it.

The tall hero doesn’t even bother looking around, unafraid of the possibility of someone walking by. Bakugo’s never been one to be overzealous, much less now that the position on Pro Hero Number 2 belongs to him.

“You’ve had your fun these past days. But it’s over now, y’hear me?” the tips of his fingers dig into your neck, and you’re barely able to hold his threatening gaze, already knowing that you’re not coming out on top of this.

“You’re coming back home with me. No fuckin' fuss, no complaining, and that’s final. Like hell I’m gonna let you get away from me, so you better start fixing that attitude.”

He squeezes your neck, looking at you with deadly eyes.

“You hear me? Brat.”

He keeps his hand on the back of your neck when guiding you to your own car, unceremoniously pushing you to the passenger’s seat before claiming the steering wheel for himself.

A few tears escape from your eyes and you turn your face to the window, ignoring the sharp looks Bakugo throws your way.

You hug yourself, all of your hope dissolving at the realization that you’re never truly gonna be free from him.

#@mrsdarkandyandere7 #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #yandere bnha #bnha x reader #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere mha #mha x reader #yandere my hero academia #yandere x reader #yandere bakugou #yandere bakugo x reader #yandere bakugo katsuki #yandere katsuki bakugou #yandere katsuki bakugo x reader #yandere bakugo #tw: toxic relationships #tw: yandere

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gojos-thot-patrol · 1 year

Note

🌶️ nsfw HCs for jjk men 🥵 general sexy times~ what are they like in bed?

ooo, IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE!!! TURN IT UPPPPP!!!

Now Presenting...

Starring Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Kento Nanami, and Ryomen Sukuna.

Sugru Geto

Cigarettes and feelings keep me Laughing when everything is all fucked up

C O R R U P T I O N K I N K DO YOU HEAR ME?!

He sees himself as dirty and ruined and he needs to see that in you too.

His loves how you look when you’re choking on his cock

He loves it so much he’s gonna take a picture! He’s big on recording you in your most vulnerable moments

Mirror on the ceiling so you can watch him fuck you stupid

I hope you have a degradation kink cause he's going to call you his stupid fucking whore

But hey! At least you’re his stupid fucking whore!

He needs to push your limits. He needs to see how far you’re willing to go for him, and what you're willing to do to get his praise.

Unlike in your daily life, his praise is rare in the bedroom. That’s what makes it so intoxicating when he finally does give it out. You’re still going to have to work for it though.

CONTROVERSIAL TAKE: he hates to be called daddy. Call him literally anything else, but the moment you say “Daddy” he’s over it

Now Sir on the other hand? Sir will always make him act up, use it strategically, lest you get pounded in a dirty bathroom.

He gives me the vibes of someone that would convince you to drop ex or acid then fuck him for a “religious experience.”

IDK maybe that's just me seeing the cult leader in him.

All of that being said, I also think Suguru has mastered the art of aftercare

During the act he’s a monster, but after? Nothing but praise and love. He’s worshiping your body while cleaning you up, cuddling with you for as long as you’ll let him.

You need water? He’s getting it. You want a bath? Say no more he’s running it for you.

He never wants you to think he’s just using you for your body.

Even if he is.

Satoru Gojo

Set my alarm, turn on my charm That's because I'm a good old-fashioned loverboy

My most controversial Gojo take is that he’s actually not all that experienced

This man has spent his entire life either as a child or raising a child he didn’t have a lot of time for romance.

Not only that, but having sex with someone is an inherently vulnerable position to put yourself in. Man’s got too many enemies for that.

BUT that does not mean that he isn't willing to learn for you!

Gojo is above all else adaptable, and his main goal in the bedroom is to get you off. He’s willing to do whatever you need.

Honestly, that’s probably his kink. Overstimulation. He wants to make you feel so good you're delirious, he wants to make you cum so hard you forget anything other than his name.

He is the king of oral. It’s his favorite thing, eating you out through multiple orgrasam until his face is soaked in you. And he’s good at it too. He knows exactly how to make you melt under him.

His dick isn’t thick, but it is long, and weirdly pretty for a cock. He also uses a ring light to take dick pics. Tell me he doesn’t, you can’t.

He’s also very vocal. He likes when you're loud, it’s how he knows he’s doing something right. So, he’s pretty vocal as well, wanting to let you know just how amazing you make him feel

when he's not telling you about how good you feel, he's kissing you. He LOVES kissing you, its like a drug to him.

Gojo struggles a lot with the feeling that people don’t really like him, so he has a praise kink. On both the giving AND receiving end

I also feel like he’s really into lingerie, and has no problems dropping a paycheck on a new set for you.

Definition of “There’s a difference between fucking someone and making love.”

God, I hate that phrase but I'm genuinely not sure how else to get my point across lmao

When ya’ll are just fucking, he tries to play the part of a big tough dom, dirty talk galore, overstimulation to the point of tears, the man is a beast.

But in your quiet moments, when you’re, for lack of a better word, making love, there’s a 63% chance he's going to cry.

He gets overwhelmed by his love for you, and the realization that you love him for him, 6 eyes or not. It gets to him.

And the best part? He’s not even embarrassed by it, because you don’t shame him for it. He’s truly safe with you

Kento Nanami

Hey pretty baby can you feel that heat? You got me twitchin to the edge of my seat

Dare I say daddy kink?

I do, I do dare. Nanami knows the type of person he attracts (riddled with daddy issues) and has decided to play into it.

I feel like Nanami never loses his composure, even in the bedroom. He could be giving you the ride of your LIFE while calmly explaining the stock market to you. It’s part of why teacher Nanami is so appealing to me I’M SORRY-

“Are you paying attention? This is going to be on the test.”

He says as he's skullfucking you into oblivion

Despite his calm composure, he's big on dirty talk…mostly as a way to ask for consent and gauge how you’re doing at the moment. He’s still Nanami

“You like that Princess?” “Beg for me.” “Tell me what you want,” All phrases that pop up commonly in your bedroom

He’s a panty snatcher, there I said it. He’s taking your panties with him when he leaves your place. You can get them back the next time you two get together.

He is prone to taking out his frustration on you in the bedroom when he’s had a bad day.

Not that you're complaining, nothing like his thick cock splitting you open after a rough day, amiright?

Public sex. Nanami loves covertly fucking you, in various ways, and watching you try to keep your composure. Be it him finger fucking you under the table, or reminding you that you have guests downstairs while he rails you in your bedroom, he likes to test your volume control.

In a similar vein, phone sex! He’s away on “Business” a lot, so late nights on the phone with you are basically a necessity for him.

M A R K I N G. You think it’s childish? He doesn’t fucking care he needs EVERYON to know you’re together

Hickies everywhere, dark ones that don’t budge for days, even weeks

Brat tamer. No, I won't explain, look at him.

He’s probably the best dom, even if he is a softer dom. He's going to discuss your hard and soft limits, safe word, and discuss the red yellow green system. Your comfort and safety is his number one priority.

Going hand in hand with that, Nanami has mastered the art of aftercare. Anything you need, he’s got, anything you need him to do, he’s doing. He’s showering you in words of affirmation while trying to rehydrate you.

Also He’s cuddly. He wants you to fall asleep resting on his chest while he traces lazy patterns in your back. It’s his ideal way to go to sleep.

Ryomen Sukuna

My whole existence is flawed You get me closer to God

BESTIE idk how many different ways I can tell you not to go near this man, but let's find out

For one, he’s incredibly selfish, prioritizing his pleasure over yours every time.

That doesn’t mean he doesn’t at least try to get you off though. Nay nay, getting you off is a part of his pleasure. Because it strokes his ego.

Daycraphillia. Be it from pleasure or pain, he loves to see your tear soaked face.

This man is PACKING btw. It hurts at first everytime no matter how ready you are for him. The king of curses has the dick to back up all the shit he talks, you can’t convince me otherwise

He’s got four hands and he’s gonna use them all. Fingers in your pussy, on your tits, in your mouth, in on your ass. You're going to feel like you’re drowning in him.

Degradation. You're a filthy little whore, the only thing you’re good for is being a hole for him to fuck.

Does he actually mean this? I mean…shit, maybe! Depends on where you’re at in the relationship honestly.

He will summon mouths in random places when fucking you. On his palms, above his cock, anywhere. Be prepared to feel a random tongue in random places.

…..breeding kink.

Honestly, I don’t think he’s proud of it. But something in him wants to fuck an heir into more than he wants to breath.

Also, blood and marking kink. These go hand in hand as far as he’s concerned. He will bite you until you bleed with no issue.

He may not truly love you yet but the moment he stuck his dick in you, you became his. Which means no other man can touch you. Hence why he clearly marks you as his.

Aftercare who? He doesn’t know her, you’re lucky if he doesn’t immediately kick you out of the bed when he’s done.

The exception being if you somehow managed to rope him into a “real” relationship. I still don’t think he’d be an aftercare king or anything, but he would at least cuddle with you until you passed out.

Sukuna likes to find your limits, and then push you past them. He needs to see how far you’re willing to go for him, even if that breaks you.

God, this mf is so toxic. Why do I love him?

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oh-katsuki · 1 year

Text

leave the light on (gojo x reader)

masterlist | ao3

Pairing: Gojo x Reader

Summary: What Gojo Satoru has in innate talent for being a sorcerer, he lacks in intimacy and human connection.

"None of this is to say that he’s cruel by nature. He is, but you don’t think it’s because he tries to be. Satoru gets no pleasure from maiming. Hurting people, he says, is all just part of the game. It’s part of being the strongest. The weak get hurt and Gojo Satoru is anything but weak. But you don’t think that he’s cruel. At least not by choice. You’ve seen the regret, the flash of pain that crosses his features when he is reminded of the seemingly unending horrors he’s committed. That gentle side to him, which he rarely shows, is apparent to you even when he is locked deep behind the false facade he calls Gojo Satoru.

Still, he has redeemable qualities. They’re there, just as present as the others though perhaps more well-guarded. Gojo is sensitive. His feelings are fragile when it comes to love, kept close to his chest where no one can touch them. You like that about him. You like that he feels so deeply, that he loves so much he doesn’t know what to do with it. There’s tragedy there, in Satoru being so caring and so feeling but needing to carry out horrors you couldn’t imagine. You love that about him too, his tragedy."

Content Warnings: jujutsu kaisen manga spoilers, heavy angst, relationship problems, toxic relationship, very light smut, afab reader, slight mentions of depersonalization, resentment, mentions of obsession, implications of codependency but like... they’re not REALLY codependent

Word Count: 8k

A/N: let me know if i forgot any tags because i didn't know how to tab for this LOLLL also sorry in advance

Your boyfriend—or fiance, or soon-to-be husband—is a genius. He’s brilliant. If asked, he could exorcise any curse without really needing to put up much of a fight. You wouldn’t be the only person who would venture to say that he is the strongest sorcerer of your generation. You use the word “strongest” because he is not the “best”. The word “best” implies skill. It implies a desire to do good and take the action necessary to achieve it. Gojo Satoru was born this way and you wouldn’t describe him as is someone who does good.

The word “good” is so weighted. That’s not to say that Satoru isn’t. Good, you mean. He is, fundamentally so. But he’s not good. He’s not a good guy. You think that he tries. You think that some part of him wants to become the man you know that he is, but for all of his strengths, he is self-sabotaging to a fault. For every good thing he does, there is an equally reprehensible thing, like a scale forced to balance itself out. True Neutral, he incorrectly calls it. He tells you that someone with this much power can’t pick sides and that he needs to remain unbiased. You think that it’s just self-sabotaging. You think that “true neutral” is an excuse to keep himself tucked away behind the padlock he keeps around his chest. An excuse to be cruelest of all to the only person he claims to want to protect.

None of this is to say that he’s cruel by nature. He is, but you don’t think it’s because he tries to be. Satoru gets no pleasure from maiming. Hurting people, he says, is all just part of the game. It’s part of being the strongest. The weak get hurt and Gojo Satoru is anything but weak. But you don’t think that he’s cruel. At least not by choice. You’ve seen the regret, the flash of pain that crosses his features when he is reminded of the seemingly unending horrors he’s committed and the unignorable desire he has to protect those around him. That gentle side to him, which he rarely shows, is apparent to you even when he is locked deep behind the false facade he calls Gojo Satoru.

He’s smart, admirably so, and can keep up a conversation incredibly well. Very little truly gets by him, even if he pretends it does to protect your or his own best interest. And though he’s got a penchant for being irritating, he’s the furthest thing from boring. You think that Satoru might be the most interesting man you’ve ever met, if not the most deliberately annoying. He’s affectionate, or at least he used to be.

When you first started seeing Satoru, he had his hands on you at all times. There wasn’t anything someone could do to keep him from you. His affection, once he was willing to face it, bled from him like ink through paper. Now, the affection feels tired. It’s not as if it is gone, but you’re noticing with each day that it’s always the same. It should be a comfort. It would be if he were anyone else, but Gojo Satoru is Gojo Satoru and when he is stagnant it is cause for worry. You’ve learned that if he stays the same, it means that he’s putting on airs.

You don’t think this means that he doesn’t love you. In fact, you think he truly does. You think that Satoru loves you as much as he’s capable of loving any one person right now, but you’re learning that, between the weight of his title and the elusive qualities of his personality, it might not be much. You think, as minutes tick by to hours, that maybe he’s not capable of giving you the good love you deserve and that, in your devotion to him, you might be settling for less.

It’s nearly 2 am and the light in the living room is still on. You can see it coming in through the crack beneath your bedroom door. The space in the bed beside you is empty, still half-made from when Satoru left this morning.

He’d asked you to leave it on for him but said that you shouldn’t wait up. Satoru had told you after a quick kiss in the morning that he’d be back late but that he’d see you tomorrow. Still, it’s 2 am and the light in the living room is on. Its yellow-orange glow bleeds onto the bedroom carpet of your shared apartment. It paints the white of your comforter in a soft, late-night glow. You wiggle your fingers in it, looking at the way it deepens the silhouette of each individual finger and you ignore the empty feeling of the weightless bed beside you.

You hear the soft rustle of something in the kitchen, the clink of glass against the marble countertop, and you know that he’s arrived home. Satoru must have warped instead of using the door. You can hear him dragging his feet a little.

You rise from the bed, the soft carpet hitting your bare feet. It’s a little cold, like the air conditioner in the room is turned up too high, but you stand on it nonetheless, allowing your legs a moment to get used to the weight of you.

As you pad to the bedroom door, you can hear him sigh and you take a deep breath before you slowly turn the knob. The door lets out directly into the living room, an open space with high ceilings, carpeted because you prefer it that way. You can see the empty living room, a white couch facing a dark flat-screen TV, and a clear glass coffee table behind it. To your right, the kitchen, with its white marble shining under the light fixture’s nighttime glow.

Satoru is standing by the switch, his hand on the wall. His eyebrows perk up a little when he sees you come in and he tilts his head to the side. He’s taken his blindfold off, his finger hovering over the switch as if he were about to press it.

“You’re still up,” He says softly, his gaze softening when he roams it across your tired figure.

“Yeah,” you nod.

“Thought you’d be asleep by now.”

“I wanted to see you,” you speak softly. “How was the mission?”

Satoru shrugs his shoulders, giving you a little smile. “Fine, how was yours?”

“I didn’t have one,” you bite the inside of your cheek, “I was at Jujutsu High today, remember?”

He nods a little, white hair falling beside his ears. “Oh, that’s right. Sorry.”

You shake your head. “Doesn’t matter. Come to bed.”

Satoru switches the light off and you hear him move through the dark to you. When he reaches the doorway you’re standing in, his hand comes to your hip, long fingers brushing by it as he leans forward and kisses you softly. He tastes like copper and you furrow your brows at him as he moves past you and into the bedroom.

You watch as he takes off his shirt in the dark room, the way his muscles flex as he raises his arms above his head. It’s dark, but you’ve seen him enough times to know what it looks like by heart. You know him like this, naked and as vulnerable as he allows himself to be. You can make out the lines of his abdomen in the dark before he turns back to give you a soft smile. Satoru tilts his head toward the bed and you nod wordlessly, crawling into it as he steps into the bathroom, turning on the light and shutting the door.

The shower starts, a soft pitter-patter and hum of water through pipes. The sound makes you sad hearing it this late at night. Satoru showers after he’s killed someone and it’s with a heavy heart that you turn over in bed and close your eyes. You listen to the sounds as you lay in bed, the wet slap of water on the tile as he shampoos his hair and then the squeak of the knob as he turns the shower off. Then, you hear the soft rustle of his towel as he dries himself off before he opens the door to the bathroom and switches the light off again.

You turn over to watch him put on boxers to sleep in, following the way he steps into them before he pads around to the other side of the bed and pulls the sheets from where they’re tucked beneath the mattress. You go to him instinctively, crawling into his arms and onto his chest as he wraps them around you.

For a moment, you lay there quietly, feeling the deep inhale and exhale of his chest as he stares at the ceiling. His warmth, something only you are privy to, bleeds into your skin. It’s a reminder that he tries, that his vulnerability, while minimal, is ever-present when he is with you.

“Did you kill someone today?” You ask, watching the wall opposite you.

You feel him nod before he inhales and turns onto his side, pulling your face into his chest with a wide hand on the back of your head. “Yeah, but what does it matter?”

“I think it does,” you say softly. “Are you okay?”

“I’m the strongest, why wouldn’t I be?” The strongest, not the best.

You give up on getting anything out of him. Satoru has never opened up to you about this type of thing. He lets those casual cruelties roll off of his shoulders. You’re not privy to what he feels or thinks about it.

It used to bother you. You used to yell at him for it, tell him that he needed to tell you things. Satoru would always insist that there was nothing to tell. He killed someone because he had to. He does it because he has to. You remember fighting with him about it, pushing for answers until you were completely defeated, until you wanted to cry from how little he shared with you. Now, you just feel numb. You know that he might be the same but you think it’s different to feel numb about something you have to do and about someone you love.

You do love him, more than anything. Satoru is someone who you love so deeply you feel it in your bones, but you also feel sorry for him. You resent him for his carelessness and the way he treats you, though you’ll never let it show. But you love him. For better or worse, he’s yours and you’re his.

His obsessiveness only spans across the superficial plane. You think that even if he loves you, he doesn’t have the capacity to love you properly. There’s no room for anything but what he is—or what he doesn’t know he is.

Laying next to him, it sometimes feels like you don’t know him. Satoru is so far away all the time. He’s always wandering off, lost somewhere deep in his thoughts and the facade he puts up. He’s so caught up in being beyond human that he’s forgotten that he is one.

You can feel it when you hold him, that indescribable wall he puts up between himself and the world. A long time ago you thought it was charming. You found his desire to be so far away from everyone else emotionally alluring. You wanted to be the only person he let in and now, even after being let in, you still somehow find yourself on the outside. This time, however, you’re too close to go to anyone else and too far to feel near to him. It gives way to a heady, aching feeling in your chest and beside you, Satoru stirs like he can feel it.

It’s through no fault of his own, you know that. Satoru is the way he is because of the circumstances presented to him and you don’t blame him—or you try not to. You know he loves you, you can feel it in his hesitance, in the heavy regret that sits on his tongue on the rare occasions he decides to share a little more with you. Satoru’s way of loving is through regret only. Loss is the only way he knows how to meet love.

Satoru falls asleep first, leaving you alone once again. He rolls to the other side of the bed, facing away from you with his arms secured around himself. You mirror his position and find that the bed feels the same whether he’s in it or not.

—

“You like me that much?” Gojo teases, tilting his chin back and angling his head towards the sky.

He’s looking at you over the apples of his cheeks through his eyelashes, his lower lash line hidden behind the round swell of flesh below them. Barely 16 years old and somehow managing to shine like polished silver.

You roll your eyes, huffing and turning away from him as you turn back to the textbook you’ve been pretending to read. “Fat fucking chance, Satoru.”

Satoru laughs, taunting further as he leans forward on his haunches, sinking into his weight and tilting his head to the side. “Then why are you so concerned with what I’m doing?”

“Because the way you’re tapping the pen on the table is insanely annoying, much like someone else I know,” you respond, clicking your teeth in exasperation.

There are times when you enjoy your borderline-hateful banter with Satoru. Today is not one of those days. Instead, his voice grates on your ears. It’s a rich tenor, not coming from the bottom of his chest, but the top somewhere near his collarbones.

For the most part, Satoru gets on your nerves. He has for the past year and a half. What makes it worse is that you can’t really figure out if you hate it or not. Satoru is someone who seems oddly far away despite his affinity for skinship and ceaseless talking. It’s like he speaks only in pre-thought-out, pre-recorded sentences that he’s deemed to fit the person that is Gojo Satoru.

Part of you wants to be closer to the real him, to dig past whatever it is he has mucking up the surface of him. Sometimes, you think it comes out. Only rarely and only in small snippets. Still, sometimes you’re able to see the flash of emotion that crosses his face when something happens, only a sliver. To you, it’s like light under the crack of a door—barely there, but casting the entirety of the room in a low, warm glow. You think it is exceptionally beautiful like the rest of him, like the intricately carved mask he wears.

Everything there is to like about Satoru is locked tight behind a door with a big, heavy lock. Some part of you, the more twisted part that believes there’s nothing you can’t fix, wants to unlock it and organize the boxes in there. You want to know more about him, to see Satoru in full for what he is. To dust off those boxes and clean them up so that he can breathe a little easier and the room can stay unlocked forever.

—

There’s a distinct sadness in realizing you’ve lost yourself to love. All of those little sacrifices, all of those small choices, all of those minuscule surrenders that start to add up. They change how you are made. People have often tried to sell romance to you as meeting in the middle. Don’t give to much and don’t give too little. Find the middle ground and stay in it. They don’t tell you that it still means fundamental change. It still means painting your face when you’d rather lay yourself bare. At least with Satoru, you think it does.

You don’t do it because he’s asked you to or because you think he wouldn’t love you otherwise. There’s no doubt that if you did lay yourself bare, he would accept you for everything you have. You think that even at your craziest, he would be as devoted as ever. You do it because you feel that somehow the truest part of you would become tainted if you let him touch it.

You’re not sure when that vague concept started to take shape in your mind, but it’s been there for quite some time. It’s a small voice, the one that tells you that you need to protect what you are or you’ll lose that too. You want to protect it, to take care of it the way you know Satoru is incapable of, so you paint your face around him. Only a little, emotional rouge and mascara, but it’s enough to offer you a wall of your own. You find that the longer you love Satoru, the more you match.

Today, you don’t recognize your reflection. The person looking at you doesn’t match who you perceive yourself to be, tired eyes half-lidded from years of emotional giving and reservation. You raise your fingers to your face, feeling the warm skin there and wondering when it took on this particularly dull, unrecognizable tone. You swallow your resentment for the man responsible, though you know it isn’t his fault. It’s thick going down, angry and bile-coated. It makes the back of your throat taste rancid, swelling with the weight of who you used to be as you choke it down. You put up less of a fight nowadays, swallowing yourself like medicine.

He’s been gone for days now and the apartment you share has remained largely empty. You spend your time at Jujutsu High, tending to his paperwork and occasionally his students in his all too frequent absences. He loves them too. You can see it when he talks about them, the way his expression takes on the more gentle quality he reserves for the people close to him. You love that about him. You think that when he looks like that, you could go on loving him like this forever.

The halls are empty this afternoon and your shoes click against the wood floor. It’s a dull, soft thud. The wood is old, worn over the years, and covered in scuff marks from the students who’ve passed through these halls, you included.

You can remember meeting him here, with Shoko and Getou and Nanami. Your ghost lingers here, haunting the halls in the last place you can remember being yourself. Satoru’s ghost lives here too, you think. All of yours do.

You think that Satoru lost the first half of himself when Toji Fushigurou killed him. His first real taste of failure. The second part, vanished when he was forced to kill Getou Suguru. Another failure of an entirely different kind. You ache for him when you remember. You ache for the losses he’s been forced to shoulder and the heart too big and heavy for the man that he is. It makes your resentment, this all too familiar anger, even more vile to you. It’s not his fault and you need to remind yourself of it every day. You think that if you didn’t, you’d lose your mind.

Satoru’s desk is disorganized and you heave a sigh when you walk up to it. You think that this place would smell like his cologne, the expensive one on his side of the bathroom counter, but it doesn’t. He’s not here enough. It’s the same way your apartment smells, vaguely empty and unlived in.

You sit in his desk chair, sifting through the paperwork before starting on the first. The important information is filled out, the curses he’s exorcised, the missions he’s been dispatched on. All of them are typed up into neat documents. Incident reports and death certificates and witness reports. Half of them are brutal. Half of them include death. Dangerous things he’s never told you about. The things that Satoru has bottled up in fear of scaring you off or burdening you with too much, all kept from you to protect you. It makes him feel like a stranger and, as you scrawl his signature across the bottom of each page, your heart sinks deeper into your chest until you don’t even bother to read them anymore. You can’t do it.

It’s late in the evening now and the sun has set, casting the office in a pale blue tone characteristic of the late hours of the night. You haven’t turned on the light in the room yet, eyes accustomed to the dim glow emanating from outside. It makes everything look soft. Even the hard edges of the desk in front of you recede into a fuzzy, red-blue line.

The only sound in the room is that of your breathing and the scrawl of the pen across paper. It sounds hazy in the pleasant way pen on paper does, spilling a thin line of black ink across the blue-cast paper marked with Satoru’s official seal.

Knock, knock. “You’re still here?”

You raise your head, half hoping to see Satoru, half knowing that it isn’t him. Nanami stands in the doorway, his gray suit brighter in the dark of the room.

“Yeah, finishing up some paperwork,” you mumble, glancing back down at the work in front of you.

“For him?” Nanami says it somewhat distastefully. It’s got a bite to it, as well as the characteristic downturn of gloomy understanding.

You shrug your shoulders, glancing up and offering him a little smile. “Who else would I do this for?”

Nanami gives a short laugh, nodding his head.

He lingers in the doorway, quiet for a moment as you continue your work.

“Need something?” You question, accustomed to Kento’s silent lingering. You’ve learned that it means he wants to ask you something. Lately, a lot of people hover this way.

“I was just curious if you’re alright?” He says, not stepping in further, his weight evenly resting on both of his feet and his hands at his sides.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” You don’t look up, signing one paper and then the next.

Nanami gives an exasperated exhale, “It’s 10 pm and you haven’t even turned on the light in here. I’ve never seen you so eager to sit and do paperwork.”

You smile down at the paper you’re signing. “Do I have to keep the light on? I can see just fine like this.”

“It just seems like you’re hiding. That’s all.” Nanami says matter of factly, his tone even and as straightforward as ever.

“And what are you doing here?” you say, putting down the pen on the desk and looking up at him. “Like you said, it’s 10 pm and as I recall, you hate doing overtime.”

“I’m filling in for Satoru,” he offers cleanly. You know it means that he knows Satoru hasn’t been home in days.

“Sucks,” you respond bitterly. It’s petty, the way you feel yourself taking your anger out on him.

“My apologies. I was just worried.”

“You don’t need to be,” you say rolling your head on your shoulders. “Everything’s fine. I’m fine.”

You pause, feeling a lie come to the front of your mouth. It swells there, heavy and lead-laden. Nanami eyes you for a moment, you can make his features out in the dark of the room while he stares.

“Satoru and I are fine,” you add quietly, unable to keep looking at him.

You’re not quite sure why it feels like a lie, even though you know that it is. Maybe it’s because it hurts to admit that you’re not, that the romance you thought would be undying has taken on a sour and stale feel. That resentment, with its dull point, bores into the center of your chest like a boulder does to the soft earth it sits on.

“Sorry, but I don’t believe you.”

Nanami, before Satoru, was your closest friend. You shared everything with him and he begrudgingly listened. He took whatever weight you couldn’t manage without complaining. After Satoru, however, you found yourself distant, spending the recent years in a somewhat uncomfortable stalemate of things to say.

“So what, Nanami?” You laugh a bit, trying to keep the defensive edge from your voice. “You want me to spill all my relationship problems to you like we’re in high school again?”

Nanami shakes his head, “Not particularly.”

“Then what?” You breathe out, losing steam rather quickly.

“How long has it been since he’s been home?”

You purse your lips, jaw tensing as you debate on how to respond. How do you respond without letting on too much? You know it would kill Satoru to know you were having this conversation in the first place.

“This is the fourth day.”

Nanami nods a little, “did he tell you how long he’d be gone?”

“Does he ever?” You laugh. It’s not a real one, pitiful in the middle, and it gives away what you feel. Then, you stand from the desk, gathering the papers and organizing them into two semi-neat piles. “I should go home.”

“Why are you with him?”

You turn your head sharply, shocked by the bluntness of the question. Nanami simply peers back at you, his sincerity showing on his face. You know he doesn’t mean harm in posing the question, neither to you nor Satoru, and it doesn’t sound jealous. Instead, it comes across as quantitative and somewhat analytical, like his curiosity has been genuinely piqued. That, or he’s just good at hiding the affection you know he has for you. Probably both.

“Because I love him.”

You don’t even have to think about the answer. It’s instinctive and definitive. You love him and you always have. There’s no room for doubt because even through the hurt you feel at times because of him, love consumes the most space. It’s rich and heavy in your chest, slightly soured, but still ever-present.

“Even through this?” He says softly.

“Especially through this,” you offer, though not gently, “I would love him at the end of the world.”

Nanami nods and then laughs a little. It’s rare and the mood in the room lightens immediately.

“You’re a better person than me,” he says incredulously, gently.

“I don’t think I am.”

Nanami shrugs.

“You should head home too, Kento.” You say, placing your hand on his shoulder. “It’s late.”

—

Gojo’s face is in your chest, his shoulders rising and falling in steady breaths. He hasn’t spoken for almost an hour, instead he just sits against your chest and tries to gather his thoughts.

It’s been a year and a month since Satoru seemed like a person. Since he felt alive the way he was before he met Toji. Before Suguru defected. Instead, he’s been somewhat hollow, emptier than you’ve seen him before. These days, it seems like if you unlocked the door he hides, it would be empty. At least at first glance it would be.

You can feel your pajama shirt growing damp with his breath, your hands beginning to sweat where they rest against his thick shoulder blades. He’s trembling slightly like he’s afraid.

You don’t quite know how to deal with this side of him, though you know that what you feel is affection. You know that, somewhere between hating him and looking up to him, you’ve fallen in love with him. It’s undeniable, this fondness in your chest that blooms only when he’s around. Only when he looks at you, only when he smiles, only when you catch that sliver of light under the door.

“Why are you here?” you mumble.

He’s come to your dorm in the middle of the night. He knocked on the door and let himself in, talking you out of your sleepy haze before growing oddly quiet. Then, he collapsed into the position he’s in now, silently clutching you around the middle.

“I didn’t know where else to go,” he offers, quietly. It’s barely a whisper, spoken hoarsely.

You open your mouth and stutter then fall silent without saying anything. You sit on his words, the way they must taste on his tongue, the admittance behind it. Your heart hammers in your chest, though whether it’s because of your nerves or because of your sadness for him, you don’t know.

“Okay.”

It’s all you can say. The simple word is the only thing you can muster.

You raise your hand to his hair, playing with the fine locks of white. You wrap them around your finger, enamored by their near-transparent beauty. Beneath it, you can see the way the skin of his collarbone catches the light. Satoru’s so fair-skinned. On more occasions than one, you’ve asked him if he needs an umbrella to keep from frying to a crisp when he walks to the convenience store. Tonight though, you think he looks exceptionally beautiful, almost glowing like a ghostly-pale spectre.

Suguru defected a month ago, leaving Satoru alone in a world he feels far too large for. You can tell that much from the stark change in his mask since Suguru left. It’s like there’s a small chip in it, the edge jagged and catching his skin when he moves too much.

Something in your chest blooms while you sit there. You feel privy to something no one else is. It’s like you’ve been let in on a secret and you almost feel privileged to be able to see it. This part of Satoru, the sensitive one that you’ve yet to see in full until tonight, is remarkably powerful. Tonight, Satoru is far easier to read.

You feel him swallow absentmindedly and brace yourself for the silence to be broken. When he inhales, it sounds like it bleeds. Satoru bleeds onto your chest and stomach where he lays, letting himself spill out into your lap like water in a basin.

“I think…” he starts, voice thick and laced with something you’ve never heard on him, “I think I love you.”

The lock on the door drops to the floor and light, warm and rich, floods out from the room that is behind the mask called Gojo Satoru.

—

When you return home, the kitchen light is off and you flip it on with a tired sigh. The apartment is still empty. You don’t know when Satoru will be back, but you do know to leave the light on. He doesn’t mind the bill, as long as he knows that he’s coming home to you.

You think about your conversation with Nanami, however short it was, and wonder if Satoru is truly rubbing off on you. It shouldn’t have been hard to indulge Nanami of all people in how you’re feeling, but even the little information you gave him felt like an insurmountable summit.

Maybe it’s because saying it will mean admitting that it’s real, that you two aren’t how you used to be. Speaking out loud that things are hard means speaking them into existence. You know that if you say it out loud, it will only get harder. You’ll be forced to mourn the loss of something you haven’t had in a long time.

You wouldn’t call it falling out of love. It’s just different now. The touches linger but they don’t feel the same. There is a quiet but pervasive distance between the person you know you are and the person you are living as. The real you is loud and obsessive, boisterous and nosey to a fault. It’s possible that the real you is even borderline psychotic about the people you love.

You and Satoru matched back then, wearing jealousy and possessiveness like a badge. Your obsession with each other, which still runs deep considering neither of you have the heart nor mind to pack your bags and leave, burned the brightest out of any of the emotions you experienced. You loved his subtle insecurity, the slightly dangerous edge he had to him when you pushed him to his absolute limit on jealousy. It was fun, it was exciting, and—though you feel it now, you don’t have the energy to indulge anymore. You’re too tired from trying to feel it deeper, to connect on a more personal level, to understand Satoru despite the fact that he doesn’t understand himself.

You used to grow worried when he’d vanish for so long. You used to obsess over it, drive yourself insane with a need to see him safe and sound back at home. Now, though the worry is still there, you know he’ll be back. There has never been a time he hasn’t returned home to you, though you hate to see him blood-drenched and battered. You know he will be home, returning to the kitchen whose light has been left on with sore feet and tired eyes. He’ll trudge in, dragging his bare feet on the carpet, and collect you in his arms. He’ll bleed affection, tell you that he missed you, kiss you goodnight, and then head to sleep without ever giving you the privilege of emotionally supporting him.

Satoru doesn’t come home for another four days and you’re reminded again that it somehow always feels like you’re worrying on your own. You’re tired of doing it alone.

—

The press of his body against yours. The smooth, almost-untouchable expanse of his chest slipping against your own. His hands laced with yours, long fingers curled beside your head around your smaller ones. You can feel the heat of his body radiating from him, droves of it pulling a thin sheen of sweat from your skin.

Satoru’s brows are knitted together, pulling up in the center and gently twisting his face into an expression of desperate, focused pleasure. You run your free hand along his jaw, carving out the contours of it with your fingers.

He groans into your hand, letting his head fall down against it as his hips continue their pace.

“I’m fuckin’ obsessed with you,” he breathes, blowing sticky hair from his forehead with his exhale.

“Oh yeah?” you whine softly, pinching his face in your hand before navigating it down to rest on his shoulder which moves fluidly with each thrust.

“Mhm,” he responds, raising his head so that his mouth hovers above yours, “I need you- all the time.”

Satoru kisses you, wet and warm. His tongue slides across yours, greedy in its endeavor to claim what lays behind your teeth. It clicks gently in the silence of the room, music of its own kind. He untangles his fingers from yours, reaching up to angle your face so that he can kiss you deeper, take you further.

You let him, malleable under his touch, warm with the lack of his ever-present infinity.

“Tell me you need me too,” he pulls away, lips brushing yours when he speaks.

“I need you, Satoru,” you respond, tipping your head back as he presses deeper between your legs.

You feel the swell of him there, the way he twitches inside of you with the rise of his emotion. Satoru presses on the most intimate part of you, the part you can hardly reach on your own. He sends you spinning and syrupy. Romantic in the way his body roams the expanse of your own, in the way he claims with his hands and mouth.

There’s a rise in your stomach that comes with a deep inhale of sweat-saturated air. It swims in your lower belly, turning over as he pistons his hips intentionally.

“Almost there?” he asks, mumbling under his breath. His tone has its characteristic upward lilt but is laced with a breathy desperation you find he reserves only for you.

You nod, tangling your fingers in his hair and Satoru obliges your need for closeness. He leans down, putting more of his body weight on you. If you could, you would crawl inside of his chest and live there. When it comes to Satoru, there is nothing more tempting.

“Together then,” he chokes, half delirious as red creeps up his neck to his ears and cheeks. “M’never gonna let you do it alone.”

You crest and spill over.

—

He comes back in the evening on a Saturday and you are home in the living room when he does. Satoru uses the front door this time, supposing that you are home and striving to not startle you, but you startle nonetheless when he pushes it open and takes off his shoes. You watch wide-eyed from the couch, quickly looking up and down his figure to ensure that he’s uninjured. Force of habit, a small reminder of your overpowering emotions for him.

Satoru takes a moment to figure out where you are, eyes scanning the room before they land on you with their distant cerulean stare. He’s unharmed you think, pale skin pristine and uniform completely untouched. You see the slump in his shoulders, the weary creep of exhaustion which he only shows in the confines of your home before he straightens out.

“There you are,” he breathes, features softening a little as he looks at you. “I was worried that you might be out.”

You don’t rise from the couch, glued to the seat with your back straight as you look at him. You’re not sure what’s different, why this return in particular is causing all of your resentment and anger to flare up at once. Maybe it’s your conversation with Nanami, whose perceptiveness has haunted your mind for days.

But more than resentment and anger, you’re sad. It’s an overwhelming feeling, starting in your chest and radiating out until it consumes your entire body. It spreads like water across a smooth table, filling you up with a heavy and sullen feeling that you’re been pushing off for the better part of a year. Satoru tilts his head a little at your expression.

“Did you miss me that much?” he teases, lips quirking up as they form around the syllables. He’s Gojo today, not Satoru. The difference to you is obvious. He’s wearing his mask.

You look over him, taking in all of the things about his figure that you’ve come to memorize. The way he shifts his weight forward on his hips, the way he always has his head slightly tilted, the blindfold clutched tightly in his left hand and the right one tucked deep into his pocket. You stare, dumbstruck by the swell of emotions in your chest, mostly bitter but some sweet.

“What’s wrong?” He says, voice dropping a little. He’s unable to feign ignorance any longer because by staying seated, you’ve broken the slowly-crumbling mask of normalcy you both wear.

“It’s been over a week.”

Your voice comes out small. It’s shell-shocked and hardly recognizable, thick and heavy with your regret.

“I told you I’d be out on a mission,” he defends, not moving from where he stands.

You peer at him, mouth pulling down in the corners against your will, and shake your head. Satoru told you he’d be gone, but not how long. You left the light on without even knowing when he’d be back. Your expression and the slight movement of your head tell him that you’re done pretending to be fine with it. You feel the silent admittance settle between you, thick in the air like smoke.

Satoru raises his eyebrows like he’s shocked before they settle on his face, expression falling flat before a look of deep regret takes over. It’s so strong that you can feel it coming from him in waves, guilt and sadness and confusion rolling steadily against your skin and lapping at your feet like waves on sand.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes, head tilting towards the floor and voice weighted with the genuineness of his words.

Your chest tightens, fingers and toes numbing with the words as they ring in your ears. Emotion swells in your chest, threatening to crack it open and spill onto the floor and cushions beneath you. Then, your shoulders tighten and your face scrunches up as tears swell behind your eyes and spill over in one shaking breath.

It’s a quiet cry, silent but intrusive in your chest. You bring your hands to your face and sob, finally letting it out. You’re crying because his apology means that he feels it too, the gap between you two, the unhappiness that lingers in the halls of your home. It breaks your heart to acknowledge what you both have become, to look at the void between you head-on with him and finally see its existence for what it is.

Ugly, sticky, black tar clings to your skin. It makes it hard to breathe, alive now after being acknowledged and threatening to consume you both as you sob. Each breath comes like you’re trying to steal it, as if it would shake the rot from your skin.

Satoru doesn’t move, unable to deal with the emotions you’re currently showing him. He stands there as you cry, eyes so soft that it makes your chest ache.

“What happened to us?” You choke out, barely able to force the words from your throat.

Satoru’s mouth pulls down, eyes beginning to gloss over. He swallows thickly like he’s trying to bury the emotions, eyes watery as he shakes his head. His mouth is open, but there is no sound and his shoulders are stiff at his sides.

“I don’t know,” he breathes.

You sob again, aching and aching and aching. There’s only the ache, only the love you feel that has gone untouched for such a long time, unacknowledged.

“Do you still-” he starts, afraid, “do you still love me?”

“How could I not?” You say from across the room through a thick cry. It’s quiet, painful.

There’s a pregnant pause as Satoru collects his fears from the ground and you gather your thoughts.

“But it’s hard,” you admit quietly, sniffling and wiping under your eyes. “It’s hard to love you, Satoru.”

He only nods like he knows. His shoulders droop, body weight finally too much for him as he lets go of the ever-present facade for the first time in a long time. You say it out loud and Satoru takes it like he’s been waiting to hear it.

“What can…” he breathes, voice quiet and unrecognizable. “What can I do?”

You shrug your shoulders, watching the glow of the carpet under the kitchen light. “Do you love me?”

“More than anything,” he says and the emotion in it pulls your numbed gaze from the carpet to his face, which is wrought with an expression you’ve never seen on him.

“Then tell me,” you plead.

Why do you always have to guess and settle and soothe yourself? Why does it have to be this way? Where did you go? Why do you always have to leave the light on?

“I love you,” he says firmly and you feel it in your chest, but it’s not what you meant. Still, he wears that same look that makes you feel like you could go on loving him this way forever.

“I know,” you cry, “I know you do. I love you too.”

The words come from deep in your gut, coated in hurt and the tar that’s made its way into your lungs. You feel the poison in it when you breathe and in the words, you find a remnant of who you both used to be. You find the ghost of burning passion, of the undying adoration that has morphed into blind devotion.

“It’s not enough,” you say and Satoru, unequipped and uncertain, breaks.

His expression twists, his knees give out slightly under him.

“H-how can I-” his voice trembles and you finally, finally feel like you’re looking at the real him. “How can I fix it?”

You shrug, shaking your head. You don’t know. You don’t know how to work back everything you’ve both done to poison this. You’re uncertain if there’s an antidote for it, but you’re not ready to let go. You don’t want to let go of him.

“Do you want to make this work?” He says, dread creeping into his voice, that obsessive desire rearing its head.

You cry again, only having just collected yourself and losing it again to the fact that you both need to make it work in the first place.

“Of course,” you cry. “Of course, I do. B-but I don’t know what to do anymore. I don’t know how I can- how I can keep doing this without losing everything I am.”

Satoru takes the first step towards you, moving hesitantly towards the couch before he finds your eyes.

They are so familiar. Everything about him is. He is so comfortable to you, so home-like in his presence. You bleed for it, you spill out at his feet as he approaches you and reaches a shaky hand toward your face. Then, when you press the weight of your head into his hand, he collects you in his arms and sits beside you, trembling with vulnerability. Both of you are.

“I don’t know what to do,” you weep into his arm, “Where did we go, Satoru?”

Your sobs come from the pit of your stomach like grief. You feel like you are mourning. Like you are grieving the loss of something and someone that is still right in front of you. Years of build-up come down at once in a violent press of emotions that you feel against your diaphragm and Satoru beside you shakes as he tries to choke back cries of the same manner.

“I’m sorry,” he says again. You weep.

How long has it been since you’ve been this vulnerable with each other? How long has it been since you’ve felt that Satoru was showing you the human side of him rather than having to dig for it?

You can feel the way grief and sadness crowd your chest. Love side-by-side with two ugly emotions as you reckon with his apology, with this conversation in comparison to the meaningless ones before it. You wonder why you always leave the light on.

That’s right, it’s because you love him. You love him so much that it hurts, that you don’t think you’ll know how to breathe if you can’t keep loving him.

Gojo Satoru is cruel, but he’s not a bad person. It’s unintentional. Little cruelties that build up and become a massacre. You’ve lost count of them— of the unwitting, unknowing blows the padlock around his chest has unintentionally delivered. But he’s not wicked. He’s not evil. Just cruel. It breaks your heart.

You know he tries. You know that he wants to try. Behind the eyes of the mask called Gojo Satoru that he wears, he mourns that he doesn’t know how. He dreads learning because no matter how much he tries, he can’t handle coming up short. Satoru doesn’t know how to fail and get back up again and you reap the consequences every single time. At least, outwardly you do.

So he hurts you even if he doesn’t mean to. The tragedy that is Gojo Satoru breaks your heart again and again. But you’ll stay. You’ll try to find yourselves as many times as you need to. Even if it breaks you, even if he’s cruel, even if the mask has been on so long that it is sewn into his skin, and even if there turns out to be nothing underneath it.

All because you love him. For all that he is and all that he isn’t, you’ll leave the light on anyway.

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru x reader #tw: angst #tw: toxic relationships #[ 📕 – writing ]#tee hee this hurt my feelings to write #ANYWAYYY SORRY HOPE U ENJOY

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