Tumgik
#Teen Sorcery
movie-titlecards · 18 days
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
youtube
Teen Sorcery (1999)
My rating: 4/10
We have The Craft at home
1 note · View note
dollopheadedmerlin · 5 months
Text
I think it's so funny when people draw Merlin characters with stuff like top surgery scars because it carries the implication that Gaius is a leading medieval gender confirmation surgeon
201 notes · View notes
thissortofsorcery · 1 year
Text
The doorbell’s ringing.
Billy puts his book down and takes a deep, calming breath before he gets up. He rarely gets a moment to himself in this house, and today he finally managed to sit down to read a fucking book with no one breathing down his neck, but someone decided to hang on the doorbell like the world’s ending.
Neil and Susan are at work, and Billy just dropped Max off at the Chief’s house, so of course no one else is in the house to answer the goddamn-
“What?!”
It’s Harrington.
“Billy-“ He says, and his voice breaks a little bit.
Billy tightens his grip on the door until his knuckles go white.
Harrington looks terrible. His hair is everywhere, the way it flops when he’s been pulling at it, and his lips are bitten bloody. Billy will bet his nails are bitten too. The Beamer’s parked on the curb haphazardly, one wheel almost climbing on the sidewalk, driver’s door still open, like he just stopped the car and climbed out without much thought.
When Billy brings his eyes back to Harrington, he’s pinching the bridge of his nose like he has a headache. That, or he’s trying not to cry. He kinda looks like he’s been holding back the whole way over, actually.
“Look, Harrington-“
“Just—Are you busy?”
Billy doesn’t answer. 
They haven’t talked to each other in three weeks. Not since Steve drove off that night at the quarry, after they were done shotgunning beers and listening to Queen and seeing who could get more peanuts into the other’s mouth from six feet away. After they fucked. 
Steve made no effort to reach him, not at school, not through the kids’ walkies, and Billy didn’t try to send any smoke signals either. They left things pretty clear that night.
Though showing up at his house is the worst idea Harrington could’ve had.
“You can’t be here.”
“What?” Harrington blinks at him, and that lost expression gives way to offended confusion as he blinks at Billy.
“Harrington— You can’t come to my house, Neil can’t see you—“
“I fucking know that, Billy! I checked he wasn’t home, I’m not an idiot—“
“I know you’re not an idiot, Steve!”
Their eyes meet and they fall silent, breath coming just that much quicker from their raised voices. It’s the middle of the afternoon and the street is quiet, no cars driving by, no people walking past. It’s like the sunroom porch on Cherry lane is a snowglobe, suspending them in time until one of them decides to move. And Billy— Billy can’t look away. 
Last time he saw Steve, it was watching the taillights of his car get smaller in the distance through blurry eyes, tears on his cheeks making the red bleed into yellow bleed into blue. The sound of tires on gravel and his own harsh breaths, his own voice yelling Steve’s name, the slam of his fist on the trunk of the Beamer as it drove off, the engine revving, all at once and all over again in Billy’s ears, suffocating him. There were two sets of headlights illuminating the quarry that night, and then there was just one. 
Now Billy doesn’t understand why Steve is here, why he’d just show up— It’s been long enough that Billy had given up on it, given up on them.
Steve blinks first, and sniffs, but he doesn’t look away.
“I just— I had to see you.”
It barely registers at first, the words a punch to the sternum that make Billy focus more on how they stole his breath than on what they mean. Then it hits him.
Billy wants to ask why. Why now? What made Steve change his mind? Did he change his mind? But he knows they’re on borrowed time and it won’t be long until someone turns the corner and sees them together. Steve can’t come in, but Billy can’t turn him away. He looks like he’s two seconds away from losing his shit.
“Not here,” Billy says, and Steve’s face immediately crumples. “Meet me at the quarry. Fifteen minutes.”
He pulls himself back together, a little, and rubs his nose. Then he nods and runs back to his car.
The days are getting longer now, in spring.
When Billy gets out of the Camaro, Steve’s already at the quarry, but he’s still sitting in his car, engine off, just staring at the steering wheel with his brow furrowed like it’s yelling at him. Or maybe he’s yelling at himself in his head. Billy knows he does that.
“Steve,” He calls, and Harrington starts, like he didn’t hear him coming. Billy leans on the hood of the Camaro while Steve gets out of the Beamer. “So, what did you want to see me for?”
Billy crosses his arms and his ankles and aims for nonchalant, but he’s not sure he hits the mark. He can feel Steve’s gaze on him like a burn, even after all this time, making his cheeks hot and his neck start sweating. Warmer than California sunshine. He can’t help but stare back, take in Steve’s shoulders (hunched) and his legs (gorgeous) and his hands (shaking). 
“What's this about?” Billy asks again, which just goes to show how soft he is for Steve. He doesn’t ask the same question twice very often.
Steve stands in front of him, and breaks their stare-off to yank at his hair with both hands, making it stand out in an even weirder shape. He looks like a cartoon character. Billy figures they’re in for a long haul while Steve figures himself out, so he pulls himself up to sit on the hood of the Camaro.
It goes for a few minutes like this: Steve looks like he’s about to say something, then he swallows and blinks rapidly, staring at the ground, or up at the clouds. His bottom lip’s bleeding, again. He’s clearly torn about something, can’t decide wether to say it or not, and Billy might be trying his hardest to move on from them, but that doesn’t mean it worked.
“Stevie,” He calls, softly, and Steve’s head snaps in his direction. “What's wrong?”
And Steve just. Walks the six or so steps that separated them and sinks his head into Billy’s shoulder, arms going around his waist, under his jean jacket to cling to his shirt. He takes a few shuddering breaths that seem to come from the core of him, like it takes all his strength just to pull them in, but there’s no dampness on Billy’s jacket or on his neck.
And it breaks his goddamn heart. The months he’d been with Steve, he’d never seen him like this— nowhere close to this. Billy’d never even seen him tear up. 
“Hey,” Billy says, a quiet murmur into Steve’s hair, more a soothing vibration than a sound. “Hey, Stevie, it’s okay.”
Billy settles his arms around Steve’s shoulders and pulls him closer, if it’s at all possible, brackets Steve with his knees so he feels completely wrapped up, lays his head on top of Steve’s and breathes with him until he’s ready to talk. His fingers draw patterns on Steve’s shoulder, smoothing up and down his shoulder blade.
Billy feels the telltale burn of tears in his own eyes. He’d missed being this close.
“I heard back from some schools,” Steve’s muffled voice comes from his shoulder, still sounding tight.
Inwardly, Billy sighs. He did too. And he wondered about Steve, because he spent so much time helping him study, helping him apply, he couldn’t help but stay up at night wondering, even if he didn’t want to.
Steve pulls back, sniffing, but he doesn’t go far. He stays within an arm’s length, hand resting on Billy’s knee, warm and achingly familiar. Billy doesn’t find it in himself to let go of Steve’s jacket sleeve, either.
“I didn’t get in.”
Billy very carefully doesn’t react, doesn’t take in a sharp breath, jump in surprise. Instead, his keeps his voice flat,
“Didn't get in where?”
“Anywhere,” Steve says, mouth twisting into a sardonic smirk that looks just like Tommy’s, like he’s gotten used to the idea already, galvanized it into the Steve is so dumb trophy of comedic genius all his friends have awarded themselves. “Not anywhere. But today I got—" he swallows, “today I got the last letter from California, and I thought, fuck it, right? It doesn’t matter anymore, because we broke up.”
It hits Billy’s chest like a lance.
“Steve—“
“And if— And you’re going to California, obviously, you said so, you said there’s nothing that can keep you from going—“
“Stevie, come on,”
“And I thought, whatever I’m gonna do with my life, working for my dad or some shit, it’s not gonna have you in it, right? You’re fucking off somewhere and I'm—“
Steve’s voice breaks and he clenches his jaw shut, so tight that Billy can see the muscles at his temples pop. Billy’s hand has closed into a fist where he’s clinging to Steve’s jacket, and he doesn’t know when he did that. His whole body is frozen, just staring at Steve, unblinking, desperate to understand. His cheeks are wet.
Two hands cup his face, thumbs smudging the tears on his cheeks, and two steps later Steve’s face is close to his, so close their noses are almost touching. Billy hasn’t let go of his sleeve.
“I can’t do it, Billy,” Steve says. “Can't do this without you. You’re— You’re too important.”
There’s something inside Billy that breaks open. Something old and jagged, rusted over and buried deep, that tore at him every time he moved. Steve puts his lips on Billy’s cheek and kisses the salt away, rests their foreheads together so they can share a breath. Billy does open his fist, then, and it’s stiff, but he closes it again on the back of Steve’s jacket with his other hand, drawing him in.
He can’t say anything. He’s afraid of what his voice will sound like if he tries. So he just presses his lips to Steve’s, nudges them open carefully, slowly, slips his tongue inside to feel the taste he’s been dreaming about for the last three weeks, shuddering at the sensation of Steve’s teeth nibbling at his lip.
Billy chases Steve’s lips when he pulls back, steals another kiss, then locks his knees around Steve’s hips so he can’t go too far. They stay there, faces close, voices low.
“Tell me you mean it,” Billy says, eyes searching. Once upon a time he had the fleeting thought he could see his whole life stretch out in the brown of Steve’s eyes, and he’s clinging with everything he has to the belief he wasn’t wrong.
“I'm coming with you,” Steve promises. “To California, or like, wherever. I’ll get a job somewhere. It doesn’t matter. I’m not leaving you again.”
Billy nods, and doesn’t dare blink.
“Okay, pretty boy. ’s you and me.”
There’s a voice, mean and raspy, in the back of his head, that’s saying you think you deserve this, you piece of shit? you’re gonna drive him away just like last time
But Steve snuffs it out like a candle, effortlessly and without even noticing, when he huffs a laugh against Billy’s face, laying a sweet kiss on his cheek.
“Are you going to let me drive the Camaro on the way there?”
And Billy can’t let Steve get these ideas in his head, so he just kisses him quiet.
The sun sets, eventually, and the woods close to the quarry come alive. They don’t want to go home, not yet. It feels fragile, this little circle of happiness they made, and neither of them has it in him to move it somewhere else. To get in their separate cars and watch the other drive off. But they can’t see for shit, so they turn on their cars— One set of headlights illuminating the quarry, then two.
"I had to see you" | Version |
This drabble was inspired by the "I had to see you" scene from shameless, but the idea got away from me. I think I'll revisit this in the future, though, so this is Version I.
218 notes · View notes
Text
Do you ever think Geto showed Gojo all the mundane things non-sorcerers do? Like Gojo probably grew up pretty sheltered due to possessing the limitless and six eyes. The Gojo clan knew how important he was and given the assassinations of previous users I'm sure they kept him on a tight rope.
So I can't help but think about Gojo meeting Geto for the first time and the two of them going on missions together at jujutsu tech and Geto showing Gojo all these super mundane things that he never got to do as a kid.
Like taking him to his first drive-in movie or his first concert. Taking him bowling or to arcades. All things that Geto did on the regular before attending jujutsu tech but which Gojo never got to experience.
28 notes · View notes
I relate to Madhubala, cuz this is my reaction in chemistry class
Tumblr media
143 notes · View notes
sun-spark · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media
Thiam Moodboard
Theme: Magic/Sorcery
This one’s a hot mess my dudes.
63 notes · View notes
lsswanson · 2 years
Photo
Tumblr media
THE MIST OF TARROWOOD, Vol 1 of the series 'The Wizards of Kelslyn' (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/story/311852078-the-mist-of-tarrowood-vol-1-of-the-series-%27the?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_myworks&wp_uname=LSSwanson&wp_originator=qKMgnXUAfAyli8YWTv%2F0qr5ESpfOcRC5Gixn8%2FQ31jzKJLb%2BQtXvh6fQcVxXHwIztzTWNifRhjUO4w9CYIstMp48Kyrjtv8XcdEk8Hs3Zfu3N6XW1t0XchOpePRlcoN0 Set in the Animal Spirit Realm where a humans spirit lives in the physical form of their Animal Spirit. A legend written in an ancient language of the Wizards of Kelslyn tells of a time when evil ruled the land. A Prophecy written in riddles and an evil plan from 10,000 years earlier is uncovered. Can a devastated wizard rise against an Evil so calculating it's hard to imagine. Can those who lay waste in secret be stopped before they gain total control of all the realms and destroy Kelslyn, the good side of the Universe? Nothing is as it seems in this adventure series of magic and intrigue, with humor and romance. Vol #1 - What prowls in the eerie mist will make you shudder. Horrible growls and torturous screams are only the beginning in a series of strange events that lead Rev and Buddy into a world of evil, magic, and adventure when Rev is captured by an evil creature and is rescued by the grandsons of Anton, the great wizard from Kelslyn. Buddy defies fear to find his friend. Onsore, the evil wizard, uses a magic poison and an evil plan that began ten thousand years ago to destroy Kelslyn. Anton must regain his confidence and powers after the disappearance of his son. Rev and Buddy are brought to Tarrowood, an ancient Fortress and embark on a mission through the ominous Snakewood Trail that's under an unbreakable spell. The group treks through dangerous terrain and discover the horror of what evil will do for power. New friendships bond as the group gathers strength and trust in each other to withstand the evil that tries to stop them. Courage comes from within.
2 notes · View notes
silkscream · 7 months
Text
HEAVEN SURROUNDS US
ੈ✩ summary: gojo likes that you make him feel human. admittedly, he also likes that sometimes, you make him feel like a god. ੈ✩ warnings: smut (18+), fingering, unprotected sex, slight dacryphilia, begging, soft dom!gojo, kind of mean gojo lol, workplace relations, reader can see curses but that's it, gojo has a god complex, dirty talk, not proofread bc i do not give a fuck ੈ✩ wc: 3.1k ੈ✩ a/n: i am having intense gojo brainrot. i was thinking about 'i'm your man' by mitski the entire time i was writing this btw. ALSO I LITERALLY HAD A GRAPHIC AND DIVIDERS FOR THIS BUT EVERY TIME I INCLUDE THEM this shit doesn't show up in the tags. i've given up!
Gojo Satoru has the smell of death burned into his senses to the point of complete apathy. He’s sure that Shoko feels similarly, though as a healer and a doctor, she’s often only met with the aftermath – the quiet decaying, the dried blood.
Gojo has encountered it all. The stench, the last pleas for salvation, the battered and torn-apart limbs. Even when the dying beings are cursed spirits suffering from the carnage created beneath Gojo’s hands, sometimes he wonders if an angel is nearby that weeps for them.
He has held grief inside his core to use as a weapon ever since he lost Geto. Nothing fazes him anymore. After the tragedies of his late teens, Gojo chooses to devote himself to his students rather than ruminating in sanctimonious thought loops. Gojo Satoru knows he isn’t a god, but sometimes, when he levitates in the sky with blood on his hands, he certainly feels like one. It’s safe to say that he may be the closest thing to one in the world of Jujutsu sorcery. It’s nothing that he despises – he’s known since his powers took shape in the awkwardness of his child-body.
Gojo likes to think he isn’t as cruel and indifferent as a god should be because of how protective he is. The warmth he’s had in his heart for Megumi alone confirms this as such, and now for Yuuji. Despite toying with the idea of divinity, he likes to remember that he’s human.
You are the only thing that reminds him of this.
Ever since Gojo had laid his eyes on you, he figured you were a delicate thing. He’s not completely wrong – although you can see curses, you lack any techniques. After becoming an assistant at Jujutsu Tech, he had taken more than a liking to you, more than he would be willing to admit to anyone else. He also never thought that the girl who was so quick to sardonic banter with him would be so vulnerable. 
When you’re underneath him, maybe he does consider himself a god, just for a second. And then he feels the silky touch of your skin and he can’t help but wish for a life of mundanity with you until the earth stops spinning. 
He likes that he can feel how fast your heart is beating. He likes that you become so pliant just from having his hand on your thigh.
It’s not like he exploits the little affair you have. It’s not that he wants to exploit you either, but the power trip that surges through him when you preen to his touch feels better than winning any battle. It’s those big eyes of yours. It’s a miracle you had reciprocated your attraction to him – he doesn’t know what he’d do to any other man who happened to pursue you. The thought of that kind of violence doesn’t make him feel any guilt. He’d do it in a heartbeat if it meant that he could have you forever, unconditionally.
Within the few months you’ve been working at Jujutsu Tech, you learn a few things about Gojo Satoru. He has an incredible sweet tooth. He cares about his students. He likes the feeling of your fingers combing through his hair. Lives for it, even, but he could never tell you that.
That’s how you ended up here, you suppose. Writhing and wet and oh so obedient for him. 
You like that a man that is worshipped by all enjoys worshipping you.
“Satoru,” you whisper. The sound of your voice makes him fucking melt. 
God, it’s so much worse when you beg. Satoru wants to be gentle with you, careful, because he knows that if all of his morals were thrown out the window, he would devour you completely, leaving bruises in your wake. But he waits, titillatingly, smirking as his long fingers grasp the flesh above your hips.
“Please,” you whine. Your lower half bucks up into him, squirming just a little, but he grounds you with his large hands once again. 
Satoru knows better than to toy with his prey, but the flush on your cheeks is so fucking cute that he wonders what you would look like with tears rolling down the soft blush of your skin.
“Be patient, baby,” he rasps. “Just like lookin’ at you.”
“You look at me all day.”
“Someone’s got quite the attitude.”
You’re about to protest until you feel his knuckle brush against the peak of your clit, teasingly. A nasty grin spreads across his face as he grazes his fingertips along your slit, marveling at how wet you are when he’d barely touched you.
“So pretty for me,” he muses, mostly to himself. 
“Should see how pretty I am when you’re inside me.”
Satoru scoffs. Despite being so human, you have quite the mouth, so much confidence in the way you move and speak that he often forgets how easy it would be to lose you. To break you. Though, of course, that privilege is for him and him only. 
He kisses you to shut you up, but not nearly for long enough. You can’t even get your tongue inside his mouth. You whine pitifully as he pulls back. 
“Poor baby,” he coos. “So on edge today. What’s got you so desperate like this, huh?”
“Just want you,” your voice is meek, which is an anomaly. The honey-sweet cadence of your words is barely above a whisper.
“You have me.” Unbeknownst to you, you always will, whether you tire of him or not.
He makes his point by circling the pad of his thumb to your clit while his other hand claws at your chest underneath your dress shirt. The sound of your gasp has him reeling already, has his cock rock-hard in his slacks. 
“More,”  you whimper. “S-Satoru, please.”
You’re surprised when you feel the palm of his hand over your mouth. You whine against his hand, soft gasps dissipating underneath his touch as your eyes roll back. You feel two fingers enter your sopping cunt and it renders you brainless, docile just how he likes you. 
The rhythmic ministrations of his fingers touch upon the spot inside your core that makes your legs shake. You like being smothered by him despite your personality. You don’t even have to tell him – he knows already, he’s known ever since he noticed your reactions to him touching you casually during the working day.
The more you crave his touch, the more you become dependent on him, even when you don’t realize it. You always pride yourself on being an independent soul, refusing his insistence to pay for your meals, the way you express to him quietly that you want to be able to fight back one day. You could perfect a certain violence in between your fingers just like he can if you put your mind to it. But you have too much dignity to request his guidance as a mentor or teacher. 
He thinks about it now as he touches you. The idea of him training you to use cursed techniques. The idea of him making you in his image, shaping you like he had created you himself.
If anyone truly knew the extent of how you are the object of Satoru’s affection, of his obsession, one would render him pathetic. But he knows he’s too powerful. He knows it’s easy to make you seem like the pathetic one. You’re already begging for his cock, after all. 
“I‘m gonna… I’m–”
There’s a squelching sound when he retracts. His fingers are wet with your slick and you’re on the verge of tears when you feel the loss. You’re already falling apart without his touch. It doesn’t help when you watch him lick your wetness off of his own fingers.
“Why are you being so mean to me today?”
“‘m not,” Satoru purrs, licking a stripe from your collarbone to your earlobe. You try to kiss him since his face is so close to yours, but again, he restricts you. His long, slender fingers squeeze the base of your neck. “I could be a lot meaner to you, y’know. You’re lucky. This is mild compared to what I’ve thought about doing to you.”
“Wanna cum,” you whisper. You don’t even realize that there are tears falling because you’re too focused on Satoru. It isn’t fair, the way he’s toying with you. The moment he relinquishes his grip, just barely, you reach over to palm his cheek. He lets you pull the blindfold from his eyes.
“Dunno if I can let you. You’re being so greedy. Such a selfish fucking girl.” He pinches your nipple as he says it. His voice is smooth, dripping like honey, dulcet in the way his words manage to make your eyelashes flutter despite how filthy the subject matter is. He’d ruin you if he could. Perhaps, he’d ruined you the moment he touched you.
He’s touching your clit again, but not rhythmically. You feel a sense of loss every few seconds. He’s fucking teasing you now, but you’re smart enough to not snap at him despite how much you want to. 
So you say his name instead. Like a hymn or a prayer. Like it’s the sweetest thing to come from your tongue. From the way your voice sounds, Satoru is convinced that his own name is a blessing just because it comes from your lips. He can’t get enough of it.
You make Satoru feel human, but the way you react to him at the moment makes him want to pretend he’s a god.
“S-Sat–Satoru. Oh.”
“You cryin’ already, baby? Thought you liked it when I played with you.”
His voice is low, raspy. Almost cruel. 
Your brain is so foggy that it feels like he’s been doing this to you for hours. You can’t even form words, can’t bitch to him or dominate him the way you often attempt to. There’s a secret part of you, deep inside, that is unlocked by the way Satoru handles you. As much as he loves control, he still doesn’t know the extent of what you would let him do to you. How you wished he’d wrap a silk ribbon around your neck and collar you like a puppy. How you think you would do anything for him if he asked.
You don’t even know that he would do the exact same for you.
Now, you’re at your peak again. Your legs are wobbly, senses so heightened by the way he plays with your pussy that it takes you a few moments to notice that his cock is prodding against you, bare and pink and fucking leaking. 
Maybe if you tell him you’re close, he’ll stop. You can’t stand the thought of it. So, naturally, you cry instead, and the sight makes him want to keep you for as long as he’s alive. Satoru would make sure nothing slights you, and that nothing out of his control could possibly vex you. This desire usually scares him. At the moment, it doesn’t. At the moment, he feels drunk with it. 
He knows when you cum because he has you memorized. It’s a little death, truly, because when your legs tremble and your moans fade into a sharp gasp, Satoru knows for sure that your brain has turned to mush. Your body melts against his. Maybe you’d melt right into his mattress if he didn’t have more energy to play with you. 
Gojo Satoru does not believe in a higher power, but he thinks that if one existed, one that was more powerful than him, he would thank them. He would thank them for you, the creation of you, the very essence of you living and breathing in the same wretched world as him. He thinks that maybe, just maybe, you were made just for him. 
You recover in a succession of exhales. Blinking rapidly through blurry vision as you feel Satoru’s face nuzzling your neck, almost too domestic and sweet to bear. You had never thought of anything serious with him because of his reputation, but every time he has you like this, underneath him, you often wish that he would reassure you that he wants to keep you.
And he does. He is devoted to you in a way that feels holy. He just doesn’t know how to tell you that. Satoru hopes you can figure it out just from the way he touches you. 
And maybe, like him, you’re just above human. An angel, he thinks. A set of wings would suit you. 
“I– I– please–” you strain. You feel embarrassed from the tears, but Satoru cherishes you. He kisses and licks them right off your face.
“I know, baby. I won’t make you beg any more than you have,” he sneers. 
You’re fucking doe-eyed, angelic when he enters you. Just the tip, for now, just so he can see how you react. It isn’t the first time but you are certainly acting the part from the way your whole face screws up. Your perfect mouth parts and he touches your bottom lip with his thumb.
You whimper like a wounded thing. Like you should be begging for mercy. He hasn’t dipped too far into his God-complex yet to coax that reaction for you.
And without a warning, he pushes himself into you completely, bottoming out. He groans at the feeling of your walls tightening around him. So warm. So fucking wet.
“Fucked you enough to mold the shape of your pussy to my cock, huh? Feels so fucking– fuck,” he exhales, rutting into you with eyes shut. 
You whine his name, clutching at him, scraping your nails across his pale back. He loves the way you need him. He wouldn’t trade the feeling for anything else in the world.
Made for me. God made you for me.
You slur your words against his neck and his chest as he thrusts into you �� cries of his name, of begging for more, of your usual expletives. He grins like a predator. He bends you in half and thinks briefly about breaking your limbs for the sake of his pleasure. (He doesn’t. You’re too delicate, too human.)
In reality, you’re sarcastic and sometimes brash. When Satoru has you writhing underneath him, you’re a little more shy. He wants to tease the desire from you, whatever filth that permeates in your brain. 
“Tell me what you want.”
“Want– I want– aah!”
“Feels so good for you, I know. Use your words for me. I know you can,” Satoru taunts.
“Want you to make me cum on your cock. Please,” you beg. “Need it deeper, ‘Toru. Need you.”
“Need me, don’t you? Say it again so I can hear it.”
“Nngh– Need– Fuck, I can’t–”
He slows the speed of his thrusts and rubs the length of your jaw softly with his palm. His other hand rubs your clit gently, making your body spasm. He tucks the hair sticking to your forehead behind your ear so he can see all of you. You and your swollen mouth and glassy eyes.
“Don’t do that,” you whine.
“Do what, baby?”
“Teasing me like this. Wan’ it rough.”
“What else?” he breathes into your neck, palming your breast as he thrusts into you deeper.
“Want everything. Want it to hurt.”
And with that, he gives it to you. He gives you all of it. 
You drape your arms around his body so that you’re closer than ever, both of your bodies ready to mesh into one if they could. Satoru pushes your legs up, knees bent and ankles near your ears, and he basks in the sound of your pathetic mewls. 
“Such a good… fucking girl,” he groans. “‘m so close.”
“Me too,” you reply in a hushed tone. “Right– right there.”
Satoru has fucked you plenty of times. He’s called you a slut, a greedy whore – but he can’t bring himself to degrade you like that even though he knows you like it. You’re splayed out for him, limbs limp and grateful for his embrace. You’re too fucking precious for him.
You’re too dazed to think about the moral implications of your affair. It's a miracle you can't enter his mind so deeply when you're fucked out like this. Where his thoughts flash from lecherous to monstrous, yours are rendered sluggish. There’s almost nothing in your brain, save for him and his blue eyes and the feeling of his cock. It consumes the best of you. You welcome it with open arms.
Another kiss. It’s mostly Satoru working his tongue into your mouth and you dissolving under his tongue. He tastes so sweet, so fresh all the time. His lips are so fucking soft it drives you insane.
“Pleasemakemecum,” you cry out in a jagged mumble. “Please. Need it so bad. Please!”
He groans in response. You’re begging more than usual. You are frantic and desperate and welcoming his hand to shape you in his image. 
The way he grinds into your cunt becomes more aggressive, which is easy for him. There’s no resistance – your pussy is so fucking wet for him in that way. The cloying heat in his pelvis spreads to the rest of his body, warmth enveloping him like hot water in a bath.
You whine his name again and it dissipates into his mouth.
“Cum with me, fuck, I can feel you–” he moans. Both of you reach your peak in the way he grasps your body, calloused hands worshipping the length of your waist until his fingertips bruise your thighs. 
His hips stutter as he indulges in his pleasure. In the sound of your hushed whimpers. In the way your nails claw across his back. 
Both of your labored breaths fill the silence. Even in the dark, you admire the brightness of his blue eyes. They could replace the divinity of the stars themselves, you muse. 
Both of you are hazy, intoxicated on the touch of each others’ skin. You shiver in your skin. You’re only soothed when he buries his face into your neck, long limbs splayed over your smaller frame.
“I should fuckin’ marry you,” he breathes into your skin.
“What was that?” you raise a brow.
He clears his throat. Despite the daze, he’s able to give you one of his signature cocky grins. Something flashes in his blue eyes, you think.
“I think I wanna keep you.”
If he was god, you were his seraphim, he’s decided. He almost tells this to you, out loud, because your big eyes drink him in. He knows better.
“You have me,” you reply softly, echoing him from earlier in the night. The way he smiles reminds you of the sun. 
Gojo Satoru knows it’s an affirmation from you, maybe even pillow talk. But he knows that sentiment to be truer than anything he’s ever known. He is yours and you are his.
For now, you don’t know the half of it. Maybe someday you will.
895 notes · View notes
isawritesshit · 5 months
Text
The Color Blue - Prologue
Tumblr media
image taken from @ lovevivianne on pinterest
Synopsis: As the only daughter to the leader of the Kamo Clan, you were trained and protected to one day bring your father honor through your marriage to the heir of the Gojo Clan. However, your husband ended up being something that your family never prepared you for. As you come to navigate a new world of politics between the clans, your husband convinces you that there is nothing wrong with honoring yourself too.
Warnings and Content: fem! reader, fluff, themes of forced/arranged marriage, hints of mental abuse, mentions of sex, mentions of menstrual cycle
Author's Note: As promised, the official start of my next Gojo series! Just for context, this is an AU of the JJK canon events (no KFC breakup, and as of now, no mention of Megumi). It is also inspired a little bit by my other Gojo series Someone. Other things I want to flag is that I do plan for there to be nsfw content in this series, as well as themes of physical and mental abuse. As of now, I am unsure how long this series will be. Updates will depend on my availability to write.
Word Count: ~2.4k
___________________________________________________________
People would say that if there was one thing that Gojo Satoru was not, it would be committed. Not in all ways, however. Satoru was very committed to his sorcery, to the protection of ordinary people and the balance of the their world and the jujutsu one. It was relationships that he struggled with. Yes, he had always had an authority problem, both growing up and even now, so his relationships with jujutsu elders and other clan leaders were never good to begin with, especially when he became a clan leader himself and took up the title as “The World’s Strongest Sorcerer”. However, his friends? He cared deeply for them, but he could never show them that, lest he risk the possibility of them getting hurt for that same reason. Lovers? Absolutely not. They would last a week at best, hence why his friends would say he had commitment issues. 
But, what many people did not know was that Satoru was betrothed to be married, and if there was one thing that he could say that he was committed to, it was that. 
And not just because he knew that the responsibility of upholding the Gojo Clan’s honor and survival was on his shoulders, but also for a reason that no one could have predicted. 
The first time Satoru had seen his future bride, they were both young, too young to understand why each of their parents were sitting across from one another, or why the most important members of the Kamo Clan were staring him down when he was barely even five years old. But when his parents asked to see you, that’s when everything changed. 
You were carried into the room by a caregiver and left in between the two families like you were some kind of meal. A veil-like mask covered the front of your face from the nose down, but Satoru could tell you were roughly his age. Your wide eyes looked about. First at your caregiver, who stepped out of the room with a bow, then to your parents, who didn’t even seem to notice you, then to his parents, and then finally to him, the only other child in the room. 
Gojo Satoru didn’t know it at the time, but it was at that moment that he had fallen in love with you. That same day, it was agreed upon that the two of you would wed when he was 25 and shortly after you turned 24. That seemed like such a long time, but… Satoru decided that maybe he would try to speak to you when he saw you next. 
Unfortunately, that wasn’t possible. Both of your families kept each of you on a tight leash, and neither were inclined to meet with one another just because the Gojo heir wanted to see his bride. They were rival clans after all, with a long history of vendettas and alliances. 
However, just because Satoru saw you once didn’t mean that he stopped thinking of you. Even as a pre-teen, he sounded out your name in his head, sometimes aloud when he was alone. Kamo (Y/N). It was one of the few things he knew about you, other than what your eyes looked like. He knew that those eyes had likely changed over the years since the first time he saw you, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t think about them. About you. 
There were a few other things Satoru knew about you. You were the only daughter of Arao Kamo, the Kamo Clan head. Not only that, you were his youngest child and had three older brothers, all of whom Satoru had never met before. He would take in what his parents would tell him about you, though it wasn’t much; only that you had a different cursed technique from the blood manipulation that ran strong in the Kamo line, and that you were naturally beautiful for your age. 
But Satoru wanted to know more. He wanted to know what your interests were and if they were similar to his. He wanted to know more about your cursed technique and what kind of training you had received. He knew that you would receive some kinds of etiquette and liberal arts education, as was normal for daughters of the clans to do, but did you like any of those things? What foods do you like? How have you grown? 
What did the rest of your face look like? That was the question that replayed constantly in his head after Satoru was notified that him and his parents were to meet with your family again to make some further updates to the arrangement. Maybe this would be his chance for him to finally speak with you, to get to know you. 
But it was just the same as before. There was no caregiver to bring you in this time though, and no other Kamo representatives other than your mother and father, whom you sat beside. 
Satoru remembered staring at you the whole time, taking you in. His parents didn’t lie. You were beautiful and he hadn’t even seen all of you, and you also carried yourself maturely for a young girl. Your eyes had changed, of course, more grown but still just as wide and lively as he remembered. Your face was no longer obscured by a mask. Instead, you held a delicate fan that matched the kimono you wore, covering your face as you listened intently while your parents spoke, but never speaking yourself. 
You didn't look in his direction even once.
The meeting had concluded before he knew it had begun. His parents had needed confirmation of your fertility, since they were to be among the first to be notified when you started your cycle. However, in an offer that was a bit unexpected, your father had requested that the marriage date be moved up five years, to which his parents agreed. That part made Satoru ecstatic. Instead of waiting 12 years, he now would only have to wait seven. 
With that, you bowed and departed behind your parents, swift and silent. Satoru tried not to look like he was running as he tried to catch another glimpse at you when his parents excused him, but when he peered out the nearest window that overlooked the front lawn where you had arrived, you were already gone. 
And so, Satoru would go another seven years. Another seven years of thinking of you, dreaming of you, wondering what you looked like behind your fan and cosmetics. He had hoped to see you enrolled in the same class as him at Jujutsu Tech, though he knew for a fact that you most likely would not be. Your parents, more so your father, he realized, protected and sheltered you more than ever after that second meeting. He had expected you not to show up to that first day of school, but when that first day was over and you actually didn’t, a small part of his heart still sank. 
Satoru did take some females to bed during the next seven years you spent apart, mostly out of curiosity as to what sex felt like, but also by persuasion of his friends. However, his friends would get confused as to why he would never allow those girls to stay the next morning, or why he would insist on wearing a condom even when they gave him permission to finish inside. He would give the excuse (thought it really was the truth) that he actually wasn’t that interested, or that he also wanted to protect against STDs (the latter was a great insult that had women storming out on him, to his relief). In reality, he wanted his first real time, his first enjoyable time, to be with you. Even if he was allowed to take on any amounts of lovers he wanted both in marriage and out of it, he felt guilty knowing that you had to save yourself for him. So, in a way, he was saving himself for you too. 
As the years came closer and closer, he began to think of you more and tried to subtly gather more information on you, to little avail. He knew that this pining and longing could be considered childish, but he didn’t care. Was it wrong to want to come to love, to already be in love, with the person he was to spend the rest of his life and create a family with? Satoru certainly didn’t think so.
However, that didn’t mean he was without restraint. After his parents had passed and the mantle of the Gojo Clan leader was given to him, he didn’t try or demand to see you. After all, the two of you could still be considered strangers. Hell that is what you were, he had to remind himself. He figured it would be best to keep you with your family and not disturb your current life, especially since you would be seeing your family less once you came to live with him (but also because he didn’t want you to see him as some obsessed maniac). He decided he would be patient and wait, which would make your first real meeting with him all the more sweeter. 
Those seven years passed by too fast, he realized as he stood in the center of a magnificent shrine in what could have been the most spectacular and slightly uncomfortable outfit he had ever worn. Your family surrounded him on almost all sides as they awaited your arrival at sunset. Your parents and your brothers with their wives sat off to Satoru's right, and he could feel their eyes on him the entire hour that he stood there in a calm panic. After what seemed like an eternity, your headpiece peaked slowly over the hill as you ascended the path to the shrine. He held his breath. 
He noticed your eyes again first. 
They were downcast, melancholy, almost near lifeless. Not anywhere the lively pools of color he remembered and saw so often in his dreams. Your blank expression was such a contrast to the splendor of your being. Indeed, he thought that he was being pledged to a goddess, the way your updone hair and headpiece played in the golden sunlight, the way the whites, golds, and reds of your wedding kimono and wraps made you look like a princess, and the way your face, your whole face, looked like it had been extracted from a star.
To put simply, you were the most gorgeous woman he had ever seen. 
Finally, you found your place beside him, your hands clasped in the folds of your long sleeves. It took you standing this close for Satoru to realize how much smaller you were than him, though he quickly discerned how much your face and demeanor had shaped into womanhood since he last saw you. He would catch glimpses of you when he could throughout the ceremony, taking in more of your features that you had laid out for him. The curves of your face, the shade and suppleness of your skin, delicateness of your hands... His heart was beating so rapidly, hoping that you would look back at him at least once. 
But you never did, even when you presented one another with ceremonial wine, or when you took his arm to leave the shrine for the reception dinner that was filled to the brim with Kamo Clan members and other officials. As soon as you both entered that reception, your fan was over your face. You didn’t say a word to him the whole time, so he never said anything to you. 
A cold sweat had laid itself over Satoru as you said goodbye to your family members. It wasn’t the type of goodbye that he would expect a family to give to their only daughter. There was no affection, no emotion shown, as if leaving your family was merely another ceremony. And then you turned back to him, eyes still looking down of course, and got into his car without a word. 
Satoru could tell that something was wrong and off about you. Sure, you had carried yourself gracefully throughout the entire evening. Every movement you had made between walking and eating and sitting was done to absolute perfection. Maybe it was those monotone movements that should have been his first sign. No, it wasn’t that. It had to have been your eyes. Why were they always so bleak? Why did you never look up at him or make eye contact with him or speak to him? What had happened to you since the last time he saw you?
At least your fan wasn’t up. That he could be thankful for. Satoru sighed. He couldn’t help but feel like the happiest day of his life, the one where he finally got to be with the girl he had loved for 15 years, was the saddest day of your own. He wanted to ask about it so bad, now that he had you alone, but he didn’t. He would just look at you every so often as you watched the Tokyo scenery pass by through the car window. Maybe this was your way of taking everything in, and he didn’t want to disrupt that. He trusted that you would talk when you were ready.
You remained silent as the car stopped and he walked you up the stairs to the front door of his home estate, one of the many under the Gojo name. Your new home. In a perfect world, in what he had imagined previously, you would have been smiling and excited as he picked you up to walk you through the doorway. In that world, you would have hugged and kissed him as he twirled you around and around in your own private celebration.
The door closing behind him brought him back to reality. You now stood in the center of his grand foyer, eyeing the dark polished wood and rich splendor of your new dwelling place. The space was only illuminated by shaded lamps and a dim glass chandelier above the grand staircase. A new couch, your couch, was against one wall, one of many of your belongings that had been moved in a week ago. Satoru decided to sit on that couch while you stood in the center of the room, looking down, not moving. 
Satoru couldn’t take this anymore. It was like you treated the floor like it was the most interesting thing in the world. As if he, your new husband, wasn’t sitting ten feet away from you. He even considered the possibility of you being deaf or mute for a moment. No, he didn’t know what to do, other than speak to you. But what to say? Are you feeling okay? Are you happy? Sad? Were your clothes uncomfortable? How come you didn’t speak or look at him? At anyone? Was it something you were afraid of? Were you afraid of…
That had to be it. 
“Are you afraid of me?”
697 notes · View notes
thecuriousquest · 6 months
Text
Yandere Dad Gojo HCs
Platonic Yandere Father Satoru Gojo x Fem!Teen Reader
Tag List: @issamomma @repostingmyfavs @chickennugnugnug @palesweetscherryblossom
Warnings: Platonic yandere themes, NSFW (spanking punishment), infantilization, isolation, manipulation, drink drugging, chaining to bed (not sexual), grounding, tad bit of death and violence at the end (kinda sorta)
Just started watching the series. Enjoy! 🖤🤘
Master List
Tumblr media
🕶️Fucking loves to slip you notes with kissy faces which read “Daddy loves his wittle girl”.
🕶️Makes fun of you. Constantly. You can’t get away from it.
🕶️99% of the pictures on his phone are of you. The other 1%…you don’t want to know. It’s Gojo. It’s probably penis memes.
🕶️Embarrasses the hell out of you in public. Wraps you up in one arm and carries you around. Really likes to infantilize you.
🕶️Won’t teach you sorcery because why would he? You have him to protect you. That’s all you need.
🕶️Punishments: isolation, manipulation, sometimes drugs your drinks, isn’t above chaining you to your bed. Rarely does he dole out a spanking, but does it if he just can’t get through to you.
🕶️On days when you’re feeling defiant, he rests his knuckles on his cheek and asks, “Aw, what’s the matter, princess? Why the long face? You know Daddy would rather see his pretty girl with a smile.”
🕶️Will monopolize your time and ground you if he thinks you’re going out too much.
🕶️You’re not allowed to call him Gojo, Papa, Dad, or Father. It always has to be Daddy. Dems da rules. I don’t make ‘em, and he will enforce ‘em.
🕶️There’s nothing he loves more than bringing home desserts for you both to share. He wants your opinion on if the cream sweet bun is better than the chocolate sweet bun.
🕶️He loves your opinion on all things…except what you think of him when he has to drag you home when you run off.
🕶️He’s not entirely delusional, just a tad bit. Thinks you just got huffy like a little girl, like the five-year-old he thinks you are, and ran off only to get lost. Don’t worry! Daddy will track you down and carry you home. He thinks you’re only kicking and screaming in his arms because you want to walk on your own, not because you don’t want to go back. 😭✋
🕶️Thinks you’re so incapable of the smallest things. Won’t even let you hold a knife let alone cook. Doesn’t let you sew either. Needles can poke you!
🕶️Will kill for you. 100% no doubt about it. Who hurt you? Daddy will take care of it.
657 notes · View notes
buriedknight · 22 days
Text
Tumblr media
another elden ring oc sketch reference, my Tarnished this time
Llywellyn, sorceress.
some lore hints under the cut
Llywellyn is a proud liurnian, born in the city of Laskyar.
She always had interest in sorceries as they are seen as an elite art in Liurnia, but her family lacked money to allow preparation to academy and the studies themselves (i hc that it is quite expensive to study in Raya Lucaria bc of all these clothing + staves + crowns + glintstone etc, moreover Raya Lucaria wants you to know the sorcery basis before you start the studies). So, as a teen Llywellyn was hired by the Cuckoos, first as an errand girl, then as a soldier. That was her plan to earn some money and learn the very basis of glintstone arts.
The time passed, Llywellyn was accepted into the academy. Later, she was granted a glintstone crown of Haima Conspectus, and a title of sorceress.
Things changed with Rennala's moon-stars equality ideology. Long story short, Llywellyn had close acquaintances with Graven School members and she was almost openly interested in primeval current as she believed it could ascend (in some ways) the sorcerers to stars. This obviously could not be tolerated by the new academy philosophy, and Llywellyn ended up in prison.
She arose as a Tarnished, guided by grace, though i don't believe Llywellyn is interested in any outcome for the Lands Between. She has little sympathy for Carian Royal family and Elden Lord's title means nothing to her. I think lorewise she'd end up somewhere in the Mountaintops where she could gaze at stars and, perhaps, one day ascend to them.
355 notes · View notes
corvidcall · 1 year
Text
ive been a halfhearted dnd defender for a minute, bc i was really involved in indie ttrpg twitter for a while and I Am Not Anymore because frankly. it just got too hostile and crab bucket-y. a lot of people acting like critical role or dimension 20 were opposing them by playing a game that had widespread brand recognition (and also getting mad whenever critrole played something OTHER than dnd. i haven't forgotten how hostile everyone i knew in that scene was when critrole played monster hearts. like what do you want??) or like people who play dnd are popular jocks and people who play indie games are bullied nerds. when actually we're all nerds. nobody is cool here.
and i would especially get frustrated when people would recommend games to play instead of dnd that are not at all a comparable experience, or didnt have the same things people liked in dnd. sure, you could play Masks if you want to play a superhero game instead of just reskinning DnD, but Masks is about teens, and the fact that you're playing as teens is core to the mechanics, so it's not a good suggestion for someone who wants to play as adult superheroes. sure you can suggest someone play Blades in the Dark if they want to play a heist team, but BitD is incredibly punishing! every time ive played it, it felt almost impossible to get a full success at anything. that can be fun, if that's the kind of game you want, but if i want to play a game where i feel cool and like im good at things, then BitD is not a good replacement! I cant tell you how many times I've seen people say that you don't need to just reskin dnd when there are games that are more specifically tailored to the experience you want, and then in the same breath act like the games they're suggesting ARENT specific actually and can be used to craft any kind of experience you want. Is the genre baked into the mechanics, or isnt it? because it cant be both!
and thats not even getting into when people would suggest replacements that aren't even close. a lot of "dnd sucks nobody should ever play dnd. instead of dnd, why don't you play MY game, where youre a couple thats getting married in 2 months and you're still planning your wedding?" like... why would i play that instead of dnd, if i want to play dnd? those have nothing in common, beyond the fact that theyre both tabletop games. it's like saying "Instead of watching Star Wars, you should watch Get Out!" sure, they're both MOVIES, and Get Out is GOOD, but i think to suggest that someone who wants to watch Star Wars would have an equal if not better experience watching Get Out instead devalues both. They're not interchangeable because they're trying to do entirely different things
So I would get incredibly frustrated when people acted like people who were choosing to play DnD were just making a mistake, and that they couldn't possibly be getting anything out of playing that game specifically
ALL THAT BEING SAID wizards of the coast sucks ass and they can clean my balls. they should get put in the stocks and i should get to pelt them with tomatoes. i like playing in the sword and sorcery fantasy setting, and dnd was always my go-to game for that because Dungeon World is the worst game I've ever played (i can think of one or two other games in the same sort of setting, but i haven't tried them or met anyone willing to run them) but ah well. WotC can eat shit for this copyright bullshit
2K notes · View notes
pxuvalentinx · 12 days
Note
Woah like imagine talking about having a family with teen kento ‼️ requesting anything on this plsplspls
a/n: i actually kinda really like this idea waowww !! i've been so slow with requests lately :') i'll get to them soon pinky promise. THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST THOUGH !!! tags/warnings: obv teen pregnancy, slight angst, fluff, nanami is a sweetheart, established relationship (lmk if i forgot anything)
Teen Dad! Nanami, who at first wasn't too sure about this. He always tried to be safe with you, but I guess accidents happen. Nanami honestly thought it was a silly prank of yours at first, but when you showed him a picture of the positive pregnancy test, he lost his composure for a second.
Teen Dad! Nanami, who told you that he needed some time to think about it and really realize what's happening. Once the shock was over, he came running to you, telling you that he'd be more than happy to support you and be with you regardless of the situation. Telling you that he'll support both you and your kid to the best of his abilities.
Teen Dad! Nanami, who now would take on more missions to make some extra money to be able to support you through everything and also save up for the future. Since his plan was now to put a ring on your finger someday.
Teen Dad! Nanami, who often came home exhausted, pissed off that he had to work overtime and also that he had less time to spend with you. Regardless of that, he always made sure to get you whatever you craved, to massage you whenever your back hurt too much, and to help with chores around the house. Nanami would also take notes for both of you in class; education is important after all.
Teen Dad! Nanami, who tried to keep as calm as possible when your water broke (he was panicking on the inside). He read somewhere that panicking will only make the pregnant woman panic too. So he kept calm, calling an ambulance as he held you close, grabbing the little hospital bag you two packed together (he also read about that).
Teen Dad! Nanami, who tries his best to even support you during birth, holding your hand. Sadly, he couldn't really bring himself to watch it happen, only ever glancing over. Nanami hoped it was enough for you.
Teen Dad! Nanami, who becomes the best dad ever regardless of how young he is. He'd start taking on a bunch of chores and duties, just to let you rest.
Teen Dad! Nanami, who calls Shoko every day just to ask silly questions that should've been obvious. Shoko answers every question anyway, wanting to support you and him. Nanami always wrote everything down.
Teen Dad! Nanami, who supported your spending addiction when it came to buying toys and outfits for your little one. In the end, he couldn't deny just how adorable it looked in all of those outfits you buy.
Teen Dad! Nanami, who started looking for other jobs he could do after he graduated from high school. He knew he wouldn't be able to do Jujutsu sorcery forever.
Teen Dad! Nanami, who your little one always throws up on. It's like, as soon as he holds your little one, it just gets the urge to throw up. Gojo definitely makes fun of him for that (until he holds the little one and it also throws up on him, earning a teasing smile from Nanami).
Teen Dad! Nanami, who loves you just as much as before, not caring about any of the changes the baby or being pregnant made to your body. If you're insecure about it, he'll reassure you a lot.
Teen Dad! Nanami, who spoils you and your child as soon as he gets the chance to. When your baby grows up, he won't be able to say no to anything they ask for.
150 notes · View notes
omgjumin · 10 months
Text
teen nanami kento having a crush on you headcanons !
tags: jjk manga spoliers (kind of?) thats it, mentions of haibara
part two (coming soon)
Tumblr media
okay so personally i think nanami would be a bit more reserved when it comes to you in highschool
- with nanami i think he wouldn't have confessed his feelings for you until he came Back into the sorcery world after his salaryman career
- like let's be honest, after haibara died, nanami completely shut himself out from the sorcerer world after he graduated. but that didn't stop him from thinking about you everywhere he went
- you never left his mind even after he left. if he thought his crush on you in highschool was embarrassing then, he should take a look in the mirror
- in highschool, both of you were first years and the way you got introduced to each other first was through gojo, your upperclassman, but when classes started you went on multiple missions together and thats when you started to get closer
- haibara was actually very happy that nanami was getting close to someone that wasn't him. sometimes he would "accidentally" leave you two alone in the same room for long periods of time while he ran an "errand". (spolier alert! he never came back)
- nanami hated being left alone with you but when you two actually talked to each other, it wasn't all that bad. throughout the school year, he would secretly anticipate the conversations you guys had. that's when he started to develop feelings for you, no matter how hard he tries to deny it.
- when he comes to his senses that he has a crush on you, he has a whole different perspective. the way he interacts w you is different. not in the way he treats u but in the way he reacts to your presence. his body language changes, aura around him changes and suddenly the atmosphere is so sharp it could cut. nanami never asks you straight up but haibara sure does take on the role of wingman and asks you multiple romantic questions
- like "what's your ideal type?" "if you could date anyone here, who would you date and why?" "do you find any student attractive here?" "how would you want someone to ask you out?" etc etc
- you feel like everytime you meet up with haibara a new question arises. you'd start to get suspicious about his intentions if he started hinting that something was abt to happen.
- teen nanami will always try his best to remain the same around you. calm and collected. but anytime he goes on a mission with you alone after he realizes his crush, he gets so nervous (silently though), he wants to improve his technique, stay strong so he could protect you. and that stays the same even after haibara died.
Tumblr media
note: im going to have to make a part two for this bc nanami's got too long nd i have a lot in mind for gojo's 😭 so part two will be coming soon (hopefully)
( requested by @arabzian )
692 notes · View notes
breekento · 3 months
Note
AAAAAAAAAAAAA
being awoken by a young nanami please to get ready for a mission!
I love writing young Nanami but prefer to not write smut off of him underaged but I can totally see him as that dorky guy that all the girls secretly crush on hehe
(wc: 486)
You groan, rolling over in your sheets as the sound of gentle knocks upon your door. “5 more minutes.”
“We need to go,” a soft voice replies. You hear the footsteps that you knew all too well. Kento Nanami, your partner, best friend with occasional benefits. He was the stability you needed in life. He was rational, level-headed and focused on the task at hand. You weren’t sure why he kept you around this often, often slowing down the mission with your antics and stunts.
He watches your face of peaceful slumber, using a finger to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “We’re going to get in trouble if we are late again.”
His voice was soft, never scolding or irritated. He truly cherished his partner. You were smart enough to know his tenderness came from a place that was different than just being his partner. He didn’t treat his other classmates like this. With you, it was different.
You didn’t want this life. You hated sorcery. But Nanami made it more bearable. Truthfully, you wouldn’t be alive if it wasn’t for your partner, always putting your needs above his.
“Come on, let’s go,” he groans, sliding his hands beneath your legs to lift you from your warm cocoon. You wrap your arms around his neck, nuzzling your face on his chest. His uniform smelled of his husky cologne, always so polished and put together, even as a teen. He smiles at the soft, sleepy whines that escape you. He was beginning to think you did this on purpose.
“Up you go,” he lifts you to your feet, using his larger hands to stabilize you by your waist.
You yawn, stretching your arms above your head as you finally blink your eyes awake. “Good morning,” you mumble.
“It’s 12 in the afternoon.”
“Eh,” you wave your hands as you open your drawers, searching for a clean uniform. He sits on your bed, watching as you pull your clothes out of your drawer and toss them onto the ground.
“You should start setting your clothes out the night before,” he says.
You turn your face to him with narrow eyes, “You can shut it.”
He chuckled, leaning backwards as you slid your shirt over your head. He was used to your sudden lack of clothing after the many mornings of him waking you up. It wasn’t like the two of you hadn’t spent many evenings after missions entangled in each other's limbs under the sheets.
Still, he watched with intent as you dressed in your uniform. You slid your skirt over your hips, searching for your bag in a hurry as you tossed it over your shoulder and dash out of the door.
“Ken, we’re gonna be late!” You shout down the hall.
He groans, peeling himself off of the couch to chase after you in his usual fashion, “You’re going to kill me, someday.”
166 notes · View notes
Text
Promise Me
ft Nanami Kento
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
A/N: Some Teen!Nanami angst! IDK why but I've been wanting to write this for a while. Header and dividers all credited at the bottom. Rating: 13+, fluffy-ish Warnings: Sadness, angst, mentions of death and dying Pairing: Teen! Nanami x Reader Summary: Faced with a solo mission, reader finds themselves contemplating their life in the Jujutsu world Word Count: 2301 Nanami masterlist
Tumblr media
With trembling hands, you type out the text message. You’re aware it’s long, more like a letter but in that moment it felt like you would crumble if you didn’t get it all out into words. 
‘Hey Kento. I hope college is going well. You sounded happy when we last spoke. I hope you’re having fun with your friends.
Upper management has assigned me a solo mission. They said it's because they are confident my abilities have reached a stage where I can handle myself and also take down the curse. I know it's because there are no other sorcerers available to accompany me.
Anyway, it's a big step, which is why I called earlier but I know that you’re busy, so I figured I’d text you instead. I leave tomorrow morning. I’m just packing all my gear right now.
And I’ll probably have dinner with my friends tonight and try not to think about the mission. You know how I get when I start overthinking. It’s probably not as big a deal as I’m making it out to be, right? Students take on solo missions all the time.
I have no reason to be scared, right? Management would never assign me to a solo mission they believed was out of my depth, right? I just keep thinking about what it’s like, not having anyone with me. I’ll have to be at my sharpest, so I’m hoping to get a good night’s sleep. 
Call me if you can. Or if not today, then sometime tomorrow? I’ll probably be on the train most of the day but we can still talk. Let me know. I love you.’ 
You hit send and look at your half-packed bag. Each time you attempt to clear your mind, your thoughts threaten to eat you alive. You were terrified at the thought of this solo mission. When management had called you to brief you about it, you had waited for them to tell you who would be accompanying you. The dread that filled your stomach when they said you’d be going alone made you feel like you were carrying around a lead weight. 
This year had been rough. It was the year that Nanami had graduated from Jujutsu High, his college acceptance all arranged, as he readied himself to leave behind the world of sorcery for good. You had attended his graduation, the doting girlfriend, tears in your eyes at how proud you were of him, but also because you knew this meant you wouldn’t see him around here anymore. No more midnight walks, or studying for exams, sneaking into each other’s dorms for little kisses and reassuring hugs. You had never thought his being one year your senior would matter until he had shown you his acceptance letter. 
There was a sense of worry there too, because college meant he was going away from you, but he had held you so tightly, whispering this didn’t change anything. You were always going to be his girlfriend. He would make it work. He didn’t want anyone else. It had been a few months and the long distance was hard but it brought you more happiness than anything around here ever did. 
You continued to pack, glancing at the clock, unable to shake the jittery feeling from your body. It felt like there were a million butterflies in your stomach, and your heart kept pounding even though you didn’t leave for the mission until tomorrow. The innocent morning sun shone through your dorm window, uncaring about the turmoil inside you. You keep glancing at your phone, hoping Nanami will reply, but the screen remains blank. Phantom vibration syndrome kicked in at one point where you could’ve sworn you heard your phone vibrate, picking it up eagerly to check, only to see nothing new on the screen. Your heart sinks with disappointment each time. You knew his schedule and that he was probably in class. He would call you when he could. He’s never not called or at least texted.
As you sit down on your bed, the overwhelming gravity of the situation hits you. You were going alone. There was no backup. If you messed up on this mission…you squeeze your eyes shut. It was one thing if you failed to exorcise the curse. That in some way brought you relief. If you didn’t exorcise it, management would simply express their disappointment and send someone else. But what if…what if…you didn’t exorcise it and the curse…
You gasp, shaking your head violently, trying to rid yourself of the thoughts of death. No, it couldn’t happen that way. You couldn’t die. What you would’ve given in that moment, to not be a sorceress, but to be a normal teenager! To go dress shopping, and enjoy prom, to start writing your own college applications. To know that your life wasn’t in danger and that you would live, live to spend another day with your friends, live to see Nanami again…
Before you knew it, tears filled your eyes, spilling onto your cheeks, and you hugged your pillow tightly for comfort. You remembered how you had cried when Nanami left for missions, out of contact for days, barely sleeping until he sent you a text that his mission was completed and that he was coming back. You remember him training you, always working on your self-defense, making sure your reflexes were honed and sharp. You remember that even when you were sent with a partner, it sometimes didn’t change a thing.
Haibara’s death still hung heavily over everyone, and you think back to Nanami’s expression when he returned from that mission, his eyes dark and solemn, regret lined heavily on his face. It was so unfair, that at the age of 16, he had to endure that. Haibara had been so kind to you as well, the best kind of senpai anyone could have asked for. Nanami never allowed himself to be emotional in front of anyone but had broken down in your arms in the privacy of his dorm room. Neither of you slept well for days after that, often jerking awake in the middle of the night, immediately texting the other for comfort. 
You wondered if something happened to you, would Nanami break down the way he did for Haibara? Would it be equal? Would it be worse?
“Please reply,” you whisper, checking your phone again. Still nothing. Did he not care that you were being sent on a solo mission? Had he finally started to enjoy his life away from Jujutsu High that he wasn’t going to answer you anymore? Frustration fills you and you resist the urge to fling your phone across the room. You curl up into a ball and keep reminding yourself that he’d never play around with your feelings, that he was probably busy, and that he’d call you as soon as he could…
The day passes by in a haze. Still no word from Nanami. You try calling him again but it says he’s unreachable. It only alleviates your trepidation. Maybe he had forgotten you. College was a whole new world after all. You scream into your pillow, allowing self-pity to overtake you. No one understood. Your friends had advised you to break up with him before he broke up with you. That he would find someone else at college, that long-distance rarely ever worked out. 
You fall asleep on your bed in a blur of confusion, unable to ruminate about your situation anymore. 
。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆
Nanami is out of breath as he hurdles through the corridors of Jujutsu High. A few students look at him in surprise and recognition, waving their hands at him as he races past, ignoring their greetings of ‘Nanami senpai!’. 
A solo mission…they had the nerve to send you on a solo mission…His breath had caught in his throat when he read your text, all other thoughts wiped blank. He’d immediately talked to his professors stating he had a family emergency and left hurriedly with nothing but his backpack. 
It took two trains to get here, one of which had gotten delayed. He couldn’t not see you before this mission, a damned solo mission, without reassuring you, without holding you tight after so many months apart. 
A left, a right, another left, then he halts in front of your dorm room and knocks softly. “Y/n?”
When you don’t open the door, he grips the handle, surprised to find it unlocked, and enters quietly. He sees you asleep on your bed, your bag set on the floor. A rush of relief and affection floods him as he sees you holding the little teddy bear he’d gifted you before leaving for college. 
‘Hold him when you miss me, yeah?’ He had said to you. You had immediately named it Teddymin, and he was currently tucked under your cheek as you slept uneasily. 
“Y/n,” Nanami says your name louder trying to rouse you, not wanting to scare you at seeing him in your dorm unexpectedly. You stir, then open bleary eyes. It was dark outside. Who was calling your name and why did it sound so familiar?
“Y/n.” Your eyes fly open and you quickly sit up, unable to believe it. 
“Kento?” You whisper his name disbelievingly, feeling tears well up in your eyes again. 
“I’m here.” He sits on the bed, drawing you close to him. You still can’t believe it. Were you dreaming? Was he really here? You grip his sleeve, hear his heartbeat, feel the warmth of his skin, and start crying unrestrainedly. All day, you had tried to keep it together, tried to convince your friends, convince yourself, that you had control over this. That you weren’t fazed about being assigned to a solo mission, that you were proud that management trusted you.
But Nanami’s presence breaks your composure, vulnerability showing through. “Why are you here?”
“Where else would I be?” he asks gently, patting your back. “I couldn’t focus in class, not after seeing your text. I’m sorry for not replying but I was basically catching trains all day to come see you.”
“You did that for me?” Your heart swells with love for him. 
“Of course. I just couldn’t…leave you alone, knowing you’re going on this mission by yourself. I had to see you.”
Silence falls between you both, listening to each other breathe. You wipe away your tears and take a steadying breath. Nanami hesitates, then asks, “Y/n, are you sure this is what you want to do? You graduate this year. You can leave all this behind.”
His words root themselves deeply in your mind and you find yourself considering it. Would it be possible to escape this? This unending cycle of fear for your life? “I don’t know. Everyone I know, everyone we know, is part of this. Could I just leave it all behind?”
“You can if you want to,” Nanami insists. “It’s hard, but trust me, it’s peaceful. I don’t want anything happening to you y/n. I’d never be able to forgive myself if I don’t give my best effort to get you away from here.” 
You know he means it, otherwise he wouldn’t have come all this way to see you. “You don’t have to make a decision now. We’ll talk about it after you get back from your mission.” He strokes your hair, reassuring you. 
“I will come back right?” There. You had asked the question that had been festering inside you all day. Nanami freezes when he hears you and his embrace tightens even more. 
“Of course you will. Why wouldn’t you?” He swallows, forcing himself to not think about any other answer to your question. After Haibara, he can’t take any more losses. He couldn’t lose you too. He’d break and probably never be made whole again. 
“I’m going to talk to Gojo. This will be your first and last solo mission.”
You wanted to protest but secretly, you’re relieved. “Would it work?”
“I can try. It’s reckless to send you without a partner.” He pulls away to frame your face in between his hands, heart breaking as he sees your look of apprehension. “Don’t worry. You will get back safely. I know your ability. You are a talented sorceress.”
Hearing his vote of confidence somehow carried more weight than management’s. “I really needed to hear that,” you say in a shaky voice. He embraces you again, gripping you so tightly it hurts but you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him to stop. 
“You’ll come back. We’ll dance together at your prom. You’ll graduate. And I’ll make sure you never have to face something like this alone again.” He says all the things he wishes for you, wishes for both of you because honestly, he can’t imagine a future without you anymore. The conviction with which he says his words fortify you, and you finally manage to pull yourself into a better headspace. 
You wish he could accompany you on this mission, but understand that management could turn this into a cascade of litigation. He had disappointed a lot of people when he had left the school, and you couldn’t risk him using his abilities since he had forfeited his privilege to use them when he had surrendered his rank and title as a sorcerer. 
He presses a chaste kiss on the top of your head. “I love you. Promise to come back safely to me.”
“I will. I promise.”
Nanami doesn’t sleep for the next few nights. Finally, after 4 days, he sees the text message from you. 
I’m back.
It was only then that he allowed himself to break down and cry, not with grief like when Haibara died, but with relief that you had made it.
Tumblr media
all dividers+support banner by @/ cafekitsune Header image
If you don't wish to be tagged, please DM me, or if you only want to be tagged for certain posts, fill out the form here. I only tag for SFW posts atm.
139 notes · View notes