Chapter Three: Lock Your Doors

Chapter three: Lock your doors

Word count: 3.8k

Category: hard angst, smut

Chapter warnings: drugs, mentions of medicine, light smut, guns 

Summary: There are three hot guys who want to be with you, however, there are a few problems along the way. One of them is a plug, another one wants to keep you all to himself and the third one - a med student who deals drugs on the side. Your main problem, though? You have a terminal illness that has a very low life expectancy. Spiraling down a dangerous path seems like a fun way to spend your last years.

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Maybe your mind-set of "you only live once" finally did you some favours, because now you have a date set with one of the hottest guys ever.

Friday comes fast and after swallowing down a bunch of medicine you’re sitting in an expensive car of none other than Kuroo Tetsuro.

The dark of the night swallows the blurry autumn sun and speckles the sky with stars. Your nerves are fried, fingers twitching and leg bouncing up and down, up and down.

"You’re nervous," Kuroo hums, but it’s not a question, merely an observation, "Your leg keeps bouncing up and down." The steering wheel is left in one of his huge hands, while the other one finds its way to your knee, gently squeezing, "Do I make you nervous?"

His hand is pleasantly warm. It reminds you of the most delightful things – early summer mornings, apple pie with ice cream and bear hugs.

And how could you not be nervous? Kuroo Tetsuro - the guy you had this dumb crush on for literal months - all 6’4 of his is sitting next to you, with that charming smile on his handsome face, navigating through the streets of busy, light-polluted Tokyo as if it’s as easy as breathing.

"I’m sitting in a car with a guy who’s basically a stranger and is refusing to tell me where we’re going. But yes, your handsome face is the problem."

The salon of his expensive car is filled with tension and the scent of sandalwood.

Kuroo lets out a laugh, "You’re trying to be snarky and shit but you still called me handsome, so thank you."

Your face burns as you scramble to make a witty come-back. Kuroo makes you way more nervous than you would like to be. It’s as if every time you see him your mind goes blurry.

"Well, you are," you finally settle on a response, "But aren’t there enough girls who tell you that?"

Kuroo gives you a look, turning back to the busy road to drive around slower drivers.

"Is that your way of asking me about girls?"

Your eyes fall to your shoes, as if they’re the most engrossing thing ever and your hands begin to mindlessly toy with your skirt.

"You sure you didn’t wanna study psychology or something?" you groan, still feeling a bit embarrassed that your intentions, expressed in a form of what you thought was the most flawless way of acquiring the answers you needed, being uncovered that easy.

He reminds you of a certain charming brunette from your past - the reason for most of your happy memories. They’re both too good at reading people.

Kuroo’s laughter is surprisingly higher in pitch than his voice, but it’s not unpleasant to listen to. You might even call it cute in a way.

"Babe, you’re just too easy to read, no need for me to study psychology," he finally says, slipping in the nickname without any further thought, a sly smirk playing at his lips when he notices the way you react to his words. His hand is still resting on your knee and he playfully squeezes it, making you almost jump up in your seat.

"You do know that I want to be here as much as you do, right? It’s not like you’re the only one nervous."

The sincerity of his words is hidden by a wide smile, but it’s reassuring. It’s hard to believe that a guy like Kuroo would go out with you and for you to refuse the urge to pinch your arm for the n-th time tonight.

"I know that, but somehow my brain," you wildly gesture to your head, raising your eyebrows, "Doesn’t connect the… dots, right?"

"What dots?" he swiftly turns into an intersection and turns right, slightly speeding up when the green light begins to blink.

"You wanting to go out with me..." you mutter, slightly awkwardly. For some reason, when you’re talking to him you’re like an open book. He has this aura around him that just makes you want to look into his golden-brown eyes and trust him.

Kuroo frowns, the corners of his lips going slightly downwards, "Why would you even say that? Who wouldn’t want to go out with you?"

Your thoughts are filled to capacity with Issei Matsukawa. That’s who wouldn’t want to go out with you. He’s like your own personal moon – only showing up when you need him the most, fucking you until you forget everything, but never letting anyone know who you two are; only a slight smirk when his friends ask if you two had fucked and a casual nod when they ask if you’re good in bed. That’s what you’ve been reduced to.

"Hey, doll, I think you’re dozing off on me, hm?"

You come back to reality; to the city lights that are now few and far in between, to how Kuroo’s hand spreads warmth through your body and to the smell of sandalwood.

"Yeah, just got lost in thought, sorry,"

"No worries," he nods, expression radiating relief and the usual self-assured smirk returning once again coming back to the black-haired man’s face, "Y/N, do you want to play 10 questions?"

You’re watching the lights of the bustling city fade away, melting away your tension. You feel safe with Kuroo, however dumb and naive it may sound. The fact that he didn’t push you to answer his question just a moment before only proves you right.

"Isn’t that for teenagers?" you lift up your eyes, finding Kuroo already looking at you and instantly ending the eye-contact, suddenly finding your shoes outstandingly interesting.

"It is… But I need an excuse to ask all the questions I want without seeming intrusive," 

"Okay, Mr. Thoughtful, ask away then," Kuroo chuckles at your attempts to tease him, but he knows. He knows that he’s got you wrapped around his finger. Not like he’s gonna use that. Not for now, at least.

"Okay. How many boyfriends have you had?" It seems like he had the question ready a while ago and you’re puzzled. He says most things so casually that you can only be envious of his confidence.

You’re lost in thought for a while. Well, Issei checked all the boxes a boyfriend should’ve; yet he didn’t want to be anything more, so that left you with-

"Just one, back in high school."

"What high school did you go to?" Kuroo shoots the question instantly, one finger bouncing up and down alongside the radio music, sending tingles through your body.

"Isn’t it my turn to ask?"

"Ah. Yes, I suppose." He gives you a half-assed apologetic smirk and suddenly turns right, his car tires squeaking in protest.

"How many girlfriends have you had?" you ask the same question, just reversed, but Kuroo doesn’t question it. He doesn’t even have to think before answering.

"Not gonna ask how many boyfriends I’ve had? Okay, ah, about five girlfriends."

"About-" you’re ready to find out more, curiosity getting the best of you but Kuroo squeezes your knee, like a subtle warning.

"Ah ah, my turn."

"What high school did you go to?" he asks, once again surprising you in how quick he is at making them.

"Aoba Johsai."

"Was this boy Iwaizumi Hajime?" he raises an eyebrow and seems quite satisfied with himself – like he’s got it all figured out.

"What? No! And it’s not even your turn to ask!" you couldn’t ever imagine yourself with Iwa. He was a good friend and a very handsome man, but way too serious for your taste.

"This game is stupid," Kuroo pauses for a moment. You know he’s got his next question already figured out, but he doesn’t ask straight away, "why not Iwaizumi?"

"Not my type, per say."

"Seems like your type. We have a similar face, no?"

You think for a moment. Not even a bit. Iwa’s eyes were slanted whereas Kuroo’s were lazily hooded, Iwa always carried a scowl on his face, while the man sitting beside you, favoured a confident smirk. The only similar thing about them was their height, and even then – Kuroo was more lean and with a straighter posture, "You do not," you finally come to the conclusion and Kuroo’s smiling. God, how he loves watching the wheels in your head turn, thoughts spinning and mouth opening and closing as you’re unable to make a believable argument.

"Strong eyebrows and jawline, a scowl. Don’t wanna rethink your answer?" Once again, he’s fast, pointing at his features with slender fingers, instead of looking at the empty road.

The scenery has changed and now you’re driving through empty fields, huge houses with giant fences popping up here and there.

"No, Iwa looks just like Mattsun but in italics," Kuroo searches his mind till he finds the face of Matsukawa Issei, who you so sweetly called "Mattsun" and then laughs. Holy shit, you’re right. Although, that’s got him thinking more. You two must be pretty close, if you’re calling the man by a nickname. Perhaps a former classmate? He was gonna have to look into it more, but for now, he’s got more important answers to provoke out of you, "Ok, right. Right. But who was it then?"

"Tooru."

"Oikawa Tooru?!" Kuroo almost slams on the brakes, shock apparent on his face. The resident pretty boy captain is a well-known person to him – always a beautiful fangirl hanging off his arm and a saccharine smile adorning his lips. He doesn’t seem like your type at all. Too sophisticated and fake. 

"You seem surprised."

“I am.” Kuroo nods, collecting his composure, putting his usual smirk back on, “Are pretty boys your type?”

“Didn’t you tell me my type was Iwaizumi and you, a moment ago?”

“Yeah,” Kuroo hums, nonchalantly, “That was before I knew Oikawa fucking Tooru was your ex,” he shakes his head, as if it’s hard to connect dots in his head, “Was he good in bed?”

You almost choke on your saliva and his hand pats your knee calmly. Oh, how he enjoys making you embarrassed.

“Interested in sleeping with Tooru?” you retort, but it’s way too late to have any real bite. 

Kuroo doesn’t acknowledge it, only noting that you still call Oikawa by his first name.

“Nah… Nah, just wanna know what I’m competing with.” 

Your head spins from the idea of what he’s implying, mind travelling to what his touches and kisses would feel like on your heated skin. 

But before you spiral out, Kuroo moves his hand from your knee and does a sharp turn, suddenly stopping and turning off the car, stretching in his car seat. You instantly miss the comforting warmth of his hand.

“We’re here.” 

Your eyes widen, trying to get used to the dark. Little by little, details come into your vision – you’re parked near a huge field of lavenders, surrounded by giant oak trees. It looks like a scene straight from a Studio Ghibli movie. 

“Are you going to murder me and hide my body in a lavender field?” 

Kuroo steps out of his car, instantly coming to open yours, it’s like an instinct for him, “Yeah. Gonna give you to a cult. ‘Children of the Corn’ and shit.” 

You chuckle as you step out of the car, following him without any question. Kuroo feels safe – like getting to sleep in your bed after a party, a ring that fits perfectly around your finger and holding hands when it’s cold. 

He leads you through a path in the field, the smell of lavender filling your senses. Kuroo reaches out for you and you grab his hand without thinking, which brings a smile to his face.

“When I was younger, uh, in my first year of high school, my dad died and it was just me and my grandparents left. They couldn’t afford a house in the city, dad left a lot of debt, so we moved away to the outskirts of Tokyo. When I felt like it was just me against the world… I used to come here.” 

The story Kuroo tells flows freely into the night air as he leads you through the small paths, to the biggest oak tree in the field. You don’t say you’re sorry for his loss. Traumas like that never heal and adding a band-aid to a gaping wound only adds insult to the injury. 

“So this is your safe place. I get it.” you give his hand a gentle squeeze and look up at him. The confident smirk is exchanged for a more gentler, genuine one, “I appreciate you taking me here.” 

Kuroo stops, if only for a moment, gazing down at you, “I know it’s corny and shit, since it’s our first date, but ah, I’ve treated girls shitty in the past. Don’t want to treat you like that, I want this to work. Even if it’s only a few dates.” 

“O-oh.” 

Kuroo laughs and spins you by your shoulders. You’re staring at a wooden ladder, attached to a blue treehouse. The paint is chipping away.

“I love the fact that I make you so nervous,” the words are spoken right into your ear, as he gives it a little peck and then gently pushes you towards the ladder.

“Are you letting me go first cause you want to stare at my butt?” you turn to him with judgemental eyes before you take the first step. 

“That, and the serial killers up there. Wouldn’t want them to kill me first!” 

You roll your eyes as you start climbing up and up, until you reach the opening to the treehouse, crawling in. 

It’s not like you imagined at all – the walls are painted, there’s a rug and a big mattress with pillows and thick blankets,

“Don’t tell me you used to sleep here, too.” 

“No, it was an old mattress my grandparents wanted to throw out. Figured it would make the place more cozy,” Kuroo pauses for a second and then sits down, encouraging you to do so too. He instantly pulls you close, “Easier than having to wait until my grandparents went somewhere, too.” 

You stare up at Kuroo, shaking your head, “You said you didn’t sleep here!” Kuroo chuckles and kisses your forehead, sending warmth all over your body. 

“Yeah, that’s right. I never slept here, just used to fuck girls here.” 

He’s so crude and straight-forward, but you can’t help but laugh.

“So we’re probably sitting on old cum stains?”

“Nah, probably not,” Kuroo grabs your waist and lays you down. He’s on top now and you turn your head to the side. 

“Look at me, y/n,” Kuroo gently grabs your chin and turns your face to look at him, you could explore his amber eyes for hours upon hours, trying to find out all the secrets within, “Can I kiss you?” 

You nod, giving him the permission, which he immediately uses. His lips are surprisingly soft against yours and his kiss bleeds desperation. One of his hands is still on your face, while the other finds its place in your hair. 

You try to lift yourself up, to get even closer to him, but he pushes you down by your hip, forbidding you from doing so. 

“Don’t move, baby,” he stops you with another kiss, this time biting your upper lip and dragging until it snaps back. He laughs and then kisses you again, “You’re so fucking beautiful.” 

You pull back and kiss him all over the face – he has little tiny freckles all over his nose. It has the most adorable little bump, encouraging you to kiss his nose once more. 

“You just gonna kiss me all over my face?” Kuroo raises one of his eyebrows and you reward him with another one. Then you reach for his jawline, then neck, making his breath hitch. 

“I want to undress you,” Kuroo says and you nip at his neck, giggling. 

“Then do so, don’t fucking ask me for permission,” you mumble into his skin and inhale more of the enticing sandalwood scent. Your mind is spinning. You’re about to fuck a man you’ve crushed on for months. Will it be different from having sex with Issei and all those random hookups? Is it too soon? Will you seem too easy?-

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” Kuroo chuckles and then he’s undressing you – your skirt and shirt are flying off, shoes too and you’re left before him only in your bra in your panties, “Aw, you put on a matching set for me. How sweet of you. You’re so sweet… I almost feel bad for what I’m going to do with you.” 

Your breath hitches. Issei was never gentle, he took and took and took. You had a feeling Kuroo would be different. He admires the set for a short moment, before tearing it off. You yelp, but Kuroo instantly silences it with a hungry kiss. He takes but it’s so different. 

“You’ve got nice tits,” he smiles and then he’s kissing all over them, making your words stuck in your throat when he bites. Hard, “Am I being a red flag if I want to give you hickeys and bite marks,” he kisses lower and lower, “all over your body?” 

“Might-“ your voice gets a pitch higher when Kuroo finally reaches your pussy, giving it a gentle kiss and separating the folds. There’s an unreadable emotion swimming in his eyes, “Might not have enough turtlenecks to hide them all.” 

“Oh, baby,” Kuroo laughs and gives an experimental lick to your clit, making your back arch, “I plan on letting everyone see.” 

And then he’s eating you out like it’s his last meal. One of his hands finds your hip again, squeezing hard and preventing you from lifting yourself up, “You just can’t stay still, yeah?” His words cause vibrations, making you let out a loud whine. 

“You sound pretty. Real pretty,” with that, you finally let out a loud, angelic moan. And that’s enough to get Kuroo going. Oh, how he craves to hear more and more and more.

Two of his slender fingers slide inside you and you keen at the stretch. It’s been a while since you’ve last had sex so every calculated touch of nimble fingers feels euphoric against your skin, pleasure coursing through the slight pain. 

“More,” you ask. No, you beg. You look at Kuroo like he’s your god, ever so loving and forgiving to grant you one wish. One wish for not being sinful. One wish because he gets to be the one to make you sin. 

“You don’t know what you’re asking for, baby,” Kuroo grunts and then, suddenly, adds another finger. You yelp, trying to grab at his wrist, but his hand stops yours, “Be a good girl. Don’tcha wanna be a good girl for me, mm?” 

“Want to! Wanna be a good girl for you, daddy!” 

Kuroo tilts his head back, groaning, “You don’t know what you’re starting, fuck-. You just squeezed my fingers so fucking hard,” a smirk plays on his stupidly handsome face, “Want me to get rough? Baby wants me to get rough with her soft, perfect body?” 

You nod, and with that, Kuroo gets all the confirmation he’s ever needed from you. His fingers find the spot inside you, the one many guys would’ve struggled to find and with a few curls of his long fingers, you’re coming undone, juices spreading all over Kuroo’s fingers. 

He’s smiling in blissful delight, sticking the fingers into your mouth as you eagerly lick them clean, tasting yourself. Kuroo pats your heated cheek in approval and then quickly removes his sweater and shirt, revealing a silver chain that has a small black cat charm hanging on it. You chuckle and Kuroo tilts his head, until he catches where your stare landed. 

“Don’t make fun of me, princess, yeah? You’re about to learn what happens to good, perfect girls like you,” he smiles and it makes you burn. You want him to touch you, kiss you, ruin you until the only things you remember in this world are his name and face. 

However, as soon as his soft, warm lips land on your neck, there’s a noise outside. A car engine coming closer and closer with each passing moment. 

Kuroo stands up instantly, pulling you up as you stumble to get onto your unsteady feet. The floor of the treehouse is cold, and so are you. 

“Get your shoes on, quickly”, his voice is laced with concern and hints of confusion so you don’t hesitate - doing as you’re told as quickly as possible. He dresses you in his sweater - the material soft and comfortable against your skin, pulls his own shirt on and gathers other clothing left. You see it in his eyes - no time to put on your clothes, you have to go.

He climbs off the ladder and almost pulls you off of it, when he deems your speed unsatisfying. 

“No one is supposed to know this place, except a few people, fuck!” Kuroo pulls you with him and you only ease his worries by not stumbling, which requires huge effort, actually, “I am almost sure of who that is though, what bad timing… Fuck, I really just wanted to take you on a date where no one could find us,” he’s seething, grabbing your hand in a grip that tightens with each passing moment. 

You don’t dare question Kuroo. Everything - from his words to his seething need to get you somewhere safe - screams danger. 

When you’re about a few meters from his car, Kuroo pulls you closer and takes a long inhale.

“Please, sit in the car, don’t make a noise and don’t open the door for anyone besides me,” the words take a few short moments to register in your scared mind, which makes Kuroo grab you tighter, “Say you understand, y/n.” 

“I-I understand,” the words leave your mouth as another car pulls into the side of the beautiful fields, that gave you such calmness and serenity just a while ago. No more of that today. The calmness and coldness of Kuroo’s voice make shivers run down your spine. 

There’s a flash of recognition in Kuroo’s eyes as he observes the car that’s pulled over. His brows furrow and he ushers you quickly towards his own car, hand tightly wrapped around yours. 

“I’ll be back as quickly as possible, okay?” with that, you’re sitting in the passenger seat, your knees pulled to your chest, mind spinning. You watch his tall silhouette disappear into the darkness and then close your eyes. You would appreciate some pain medicine right now. If only you had some on you. Hopefully, Kuroo is back soon and you’ll get away with an excuse of a headache. 

You’re still only in your shoes and Kuroo’s sweater when someone taps on the car window. Your skin raises in goosebumps, heart about to jump out of your chest. Slowly, you look up and are met with a barrel of a gun and an icy stare looking straight into your soul. Only one thought runs through your head – Kuroo hasn’t locked his car.

Sorry for the long wait, been super busy!

Taglist: @heizenka​ @icelyn20​ @strawbberyys @creepykawass​

Thinking about how big Jason is. 6’4 and just made of muscle. Thick thighs and a big chest with strong arms. Large hands that love to grip your thighs, lifting and tossing you with ease. And he knows what he does to you - little smirks and teasing touches give him away. And he is a tease, giving you only a little taste of him before pulling away, cooing at you in that mocking voice, asking if you’re gonna be a good girl and play nice.

Category: smut, angst

Warnings: smoking, sort of jjk spoilers but not really stated clearly, angsty, cursing, gojo being smitten is a warning of it’s own

Summary: Your ability allows you to see visions of the future. Once you see your lover dead, you can’t help but want to pull away and keep him safe

***

Satoru awakes when the sun is about to rise and colour the world in molten gold. It’s not a peaceful awakening, not the usual smell of coffee you brewed after slipping out of his grasp in the early hours of the morning and not the sound of you humming a melody only known to you.

Your screams tug at the strings of his heart in a way he didn’t even think was possible and before he’s even fully awake, his muscular arms reach out to wrap themselves around you, their goal to comfort and to ground you. He was still here and you were still safe.

Your eyes flutter open and closed like the wings of a butterfly, breathing erratic and uneven.

Gojo was always a selfish man and how could he not be if almost everyone worshipped not only him but the ground he walked on. A god amongst mortals, an angel meant to erase the sins of the humanity. Right now, he would do anything to take your pain away, to ease the trembling of your cold hands and calm down the way your heart is beating too fast.

A worse side of your technique, being able to summon anything you dreamed of last night, were the obscure visions of the future.

He’s learned not to ask right after, to allow you time to calm down and get your voice back. He’s more worried about you than curious about the future. A fleeting thought that this would never be the case for anyone else but you comes and goes.

When you do finally speak, your voice is croaky and barely audible, muttered into his dark shirt.

“You were dead.”

Three short words and his hands that have been stroking your back softly, freeze. Satoru thinks he misheard you. The idea of him dying is simply ridiculous. Who would be able to kill the strongest sorcerer alive? Sure, he’s had his doubts about Sukuna, but he’s certain he’d win if it came down to it.

“Darling, are you sure that it was me? Your visions are often unclear.”

Is all he thinks to say and his hands come back to your back, motions slow and comforting. Satoru doesn’t want you to know that his heart skipped a beat, that he’s a tad bit worried, ever since your visions about Nanami came true. Ever since all your interferences with the future proved to be fruitless. Ever since they had no body to bury.

Your face finally lifts up, chin resting on his chest, eyes red-rimmed and tearful. His hand touches your cheek and it’s hot to the touch.

“It was the clearest one I’ve ever had, Satoru.” you take a moment to gather your thoughts, to take a deep breath. The vision is engrained into your mind, playing over and over like a broken record. “I tr- fuck, tried to save you and it didn’t work. Nothing worked, I couldn’t- I was too weak to save you.”

And you burst into tears again, soft, heaving sobs slipping past your soft lips. If Satoru thought that it had hurt before, he doesn’t know what to compare this to. He briefly thinks of Suguru, but ultimately brushes it off.

He mumbles your name and kisses your forehead as softly as he can manage. All he knows is violence and fighting and surviving, but with you, he manages to hide all the ragged edges just enough.

“Ah.” Is all Satoru says for a moment, a hum of acknowledgement. He’s speechless for a moment as his worst suspicions are suddenly confirmed. Satoru doesn’t have to dwell on the thought that he cares more about what happens to you than to him. “What happens to you… In this vision?”

You slowly blink up at him, eyes glazed for a moment. He recognises that expression as you trying to recall every single detail of the vision. It’s so bittersweet, Satoru thinks, that you don’t even remember seeing yourself in that vision, only caring about him.

Soon, you come back to him, brows furrowed and expression drowned in worry.

“I try to heal you and… And I don’t even notice Sukuna coming back behind me. It hurts, for a bit, and then it’s dark. The vision ends.”

Gojo swallows and closes his eyes for a moment. What is he supposed to say? His jaw is tense, and when his eyes open again, he finds you even more worried than before.

“Love… Listen, that’s not going to happen, alright? I’ll make sure of it.”

He rewards you with one more kiss on your forehead as if that would help. He’d like to think that, but he finds himself horribly mistaken when you slip out of his grasp. You’re still only in your shirt and underwear, the only accessories being the bruises left on your hips that are now covered.

You rummage through the drawers and he sits up to observe. Your still trembling hands reach for a pack of cigarettes and a baby pink lighter. Gojo never liked you doing that. He never cared for alcohol and nicotine, choosing to see his body as a temple.

He worshipped you a lot, whispering prayers of your name a lot more than prayers he would in a temple, but clearly not enough.

“You really think death isn’t coming to us? Even after Shibuya?”

You shook your head and slipped out to the large balcony attached to the bedroom. Everything in his apartment was expensive and you often complained about feeling out of place. Of course, Satoru thought that you were right where you’re supposed to be.

When he climbs out of bed, he doesn’t need to shake away the sleep. It’s like a second nature to follow you out, the cold air of the early morning biting at his skin. He always has his infinity off when with you. Satoru doesn’t want you to feel like you could ever be denied the comfort of his touch.

He finds you smoking. The white trails leave your lips and disappear into the air as if they were never there. He finds himself at a loss of words once again. A strange and foreign feeling.

Satoru’s arms wrap around your waist and he slumps his large body over you like an oversized heated blanket. For you, he can ignore the smell of the cigarettes.

“Darling, please, listen. There’s nothing that could stop me from protecting you. I won’t let anyone harm you, ever.”

Satoru is careful not to say ‘as long as I’m alive’, bites his tongue to not let it slip. If this vision proves to be as truthful as your prior ones, he might have to reconsider the promises before making them.

You take another long drag before sighing softly. He doesn’t know that you’re also reconsidering your words.

“I don’t care about what happens to me, Satoru. You die.”

And your words hurt, he can feel the physical pain in his chest, his heart clenching. How could you ever say that? How could you put his life above yours? So many would, so many would disregard another sorcerer’s life for his, but never you. At the start of the relationship, he had made it clear that you were equals. Everything was back to base one.

“Please.” he’s used to people begging him, worshipping him, not the other way around. Once again, he is reminded, that for you he can be mortal, ordinary and nothing special. A normal person without the weight of the whole sorcerer society depending on him. “I’m begging you to not say such things. How can you disregard your life just like that?”

You stay quiet for a while and then put out your cigarette, turning to him. He notices the tears in your eyes and his immediate instinct is to wipe them off. He wants to give you space, though so he stays glued to the floor.

“I think my visions are not a warning. A warning would mean that the future could be changed, for better or for worse, anyway. We have tried so many times.” the words are quiet and your tone utterly defeated. You’re similar to a kicked dog right now. Yet, your eyes rise up and you come back to the hand that feeds. “We’ve tried so many times and It has never suceeded. Nanamin is still dead, Sukuna is still alive. It’s a curse more than a gift.”

Gojo wants to wish it all away. Your pain and your sorrows, your worries and your decreasing self-worth. He knows that there is nothing he can do to stop your mind from spiralling.

He whispers your name but you don’t allow him to speak, your hands raised.

“I think it’s just like… Someone saying to me ‘here is your future, take it and deal with it’ and…”

This time, Satoru is the one not allowing you to finish your words. He can’t listen to this anymore, can’t listen to this unchangable future shit. The future is always shifting, things are always happening and transforming the events, preventing them from happening and creating new ones.

“So that’s it? You’re accepting your fate and not trying to change it? And you’re fine with that?”

He can’t keep his voice from rising in volume, pretty, perfect face scrunched up. Satoru doesn’t know how to shake sense into you, how to make you see that you both can still change the future, prevent your deaths.

“I am fine.”

Is all you say, before putting the cigarette out and slipping back inside. Your skin is covered in goosebumps. His feet follow you before his mind can catch up.

“You clearly are not.” Satoru says as you pace around the room, not knowing what to do with yourself. He’s right behind you. It’s an instinct to try to calm you down. “Will you just listen to me? Nothing’s happening to me, or you. Fuck the future, fuck everything.”

You finally fall into his arms, but Satoru doesn’t dare sigh in relief. You’re about to say something again, and he’s about to give you more logical arguments. A cursed circle that never stops running. What can he even do to stop it?

“I think… I think that you’re a god, and I’m your dog.” you say and Satoru’s voice hitches in his throat. What was going on in your head right now, to make you say something like that, to even think something like that. “You tell me to stop worrying and I do, you demand me to calm down and I listen. Ultimately, you tell me to jump and I ask you ‘how high?’.”

Satoru freezes, the hands that held you limp by his sides as he pulls away. It was so completely unlike you, so unnatural. The visions have completely broken you and he doesn’t know how to bring you back, he really doesn’t, god he doesn’t know what to do.

“You are my dog?” he repeats, his tone harsher than before as he fails to wrap his head around the idea that you could say such a thing. “Are you still dizzy from your visions or are you taking a shot at making me upset?”

He shakes his head and pulls away from you, his large hands on your shoulders.

“It’s the truth.” you respond, avoiding his harsh gaze, pretending not to notice the weight of his hands on your shoulders.

“Well, I think your truth is stupid.” he retorts, hands shaking as he pulls them away from you, as if your skin burned him.

“And I think you should leave me.”

The words leave you and it’s like the time stops for Satoru. It’s a punch to his ego. Does he not love you enough? Not cherish you enough? Do you see him as the kind of man that would leave as soon as things got hard? How foolish, how utterly stupid.

“What are you saying now?” he all but yells, his temper no longer controlled as you look up at him with those teary eyes. What can he even do? What is he supposed to do?

Your whole body is shaking as you turn away from him. “In my vision, you died saving me. Leaving me can change the future.”

And suddenly, it all clicks for him. Why you were so insistant to push him away, why you seemed so hopeless. Protecting him by hurting yourself. How completely selfless, how utterly stupid.

“Oh, honey that’s…” he pulls you to him, wrapping his body around you until there’s nothing but him. His pretty girl is in tears. his pretty, perfect girl hurting. “I would never leave you, my love. Never once in a million lifetimes. I’m yours, darling, and you’re mine. We talked about the red string theory once and I’m afraid that I’m tied to you, hm?”

It’s not a question and he’s trailing kisses down your exposed neck. Your arms raise up on instinct and Satoru slips your, well, his shirt off of you. He knows you need him right now, to bring you back, to assure you, once again, that he’s yours, that he’ll stay despite everything.

Satoru lays you down on the bed as if you’re the most precious treasure and you look up at him, with those wide eyes, handing him your trust along with your heart.

“My pretty girl, my perfect girl.” he drawls, pressing kisses along your exposed chest and down your belly, until he reaches your underwear, playfully biting the little bow on them. “Can I take these off?”

You nod, but that’s not enough for him and he nips at the skin of your thigh, causing you to yelp. “Words, pretty girl.”

“Yes.” you answer, after a beat of silence.

And he’s granted heaven. Satoru slides off your underwear and tosses them somewhere into the room. More soft kisses follow and your breath hitches when his lips kiss where you need him most.

His skilled tongue flicks over your clit and your back immediately arches off of the bed. Coming down from so many emotions and reaching so many new ones left you more sensitive than ever.

Gojo chuckles and repeats the motion, before obliging your quiet whine with a practiced clockwise motion. He repeats the motion a few more times, revelling at the taste of you and the sound of your whines and soft moans. His pretty pretty girl.

He carefully enters one finger into you and immediately finds the spot that has you gasping. With each motion, he brings you back to himself, back to being completely his, none of that silly nonsense you were spewing before. He adds another, when he deems you wet enough.

Two of his fingers are already so much more than yours could ever be and the way his tongue keeps flicking over your clit in all the right ways has you moaning his name like a prayer. Truly, he’s the one praying to you.

“Ngh- Sa-Satoru, I-“

You don’t need to finish your sentence in order for him to know what you’ll say next. The flutter of your eyelashes and the way you squeeze his fingers so hard that he’s barely able to move them in and out is a telltale sign.

“You can cum, pretty girl. Mm, my pretty girl.”

He mumbles and then his tongue gets back to it’s former movements. You come with a high-pitched whine and he’s glad to finally taste you. Ambrosia couldn’t compare.

You come back down from your high and he’s already hovering over you, mouth wiped clean as he presses a bunch of butterfly kisses over your skin, anything he can touch.

He’s content with just pleasing you, with having you even a step closer to him. Back to where you are supposed to be. What a silly thought, that he’d ever consider leaving you when he looked at you like you hung the stars in the sky, the way he has never looked at anyone else.

Your eyes open and focus on him as you kiss him back, as soft as you can manage. Your hands bury into his hair and you have the adoring look back in your gaze. Even if it’s for a little while, before your worries start up again, he’s content.

“Want more, Toru, want you.”

Satoru swears that his eyes light up once he hears your words. You’re taking another step towards him, you’re almost back to him. “Are you sure, my love?”

You nod eagerly and it’s enough for him to take his clothes off. Your eyes are focused on his strong body, the sculpted muscles, the light hair that trails from his bellybutton right to his length.

He lays over you, careful not to let his weight fall onto you, always so careful with you. He rubs his cock over your pussy, covering it with your slick, attentive to make the intrusion as easy and pleasurable as possible.

He’s careful when he slides the tip in yet you still let out a soft whine. Satoru is a big man, towering over everyone no matter what room he’s in, it only makes sense that his cock is big, too. Doesn’t really help that he’s quite gifted on top of that.

“I know, I know, yeah. Hold onto me, darling. Mm, my love is doing so well.”

He feeds inch after inch of his large cock into you, watching your reactions deliberately, making sure not to hurt you.

Both you and Satoru moan when his pelvis meets yours, the sensation euphoric. His thrusts start out slow. He pulls almost all the way out before thrusting back in. Your head falls back onto the pillow as your moans get louder. He’s the only man who’s able to fuck you like this, to reach all the spots inside of you that make your eyes water.

“Do you feel good, darling? Am I making my perfect girl feel good.”

Your hands go over to cover your face and he tuts, pulling them away and gathering your wrists in one of his hands. It never fails to surprise you on how big they are. He, however, wants to see every reaction and hear every sound leaving you.

“Y-Yes, so good, feels so good.” You manage between loud moans. Screw the neighbours, Satoru thinks, screw everyone who isn’t you and him.

“Yeah? I feel good, too. So good, baby, so good. You’re perfect for me, the gods created you for me, yeah? So no more nonsense about me leaving.”

Your face heats up and back arches. His words reach you and then float around your otherwise empty mind.

His thrusts get quicker and less calculated as his head is thrown back. A quiet sigh of contentment leaves his pretty, glossy lips.

“Yeah, that’s right. No one. But us. Exists. Right now.” Satoru punctuates each little word with a deep thrust, breaths uneven, eyes closed in pleasure. “And we’ll overwrite the future if need be. If it means I get to stay. Then so be it.”

Another long, languid thrust and you come, nails dragging over his back as he spills into you, filling you with warmth.

You both take a moment to catch your breaths and soon, Satoru rolls off of you, his softened dick slipping out. He pulls you close to himself and presses a kiss to your forehead as you’re dozing off.

“Meant what I said. I’m staying and you won’t get rid off me, yeah? I love you more than I love anyone else, would die for you, kill for you… Perfect girl, my perfect girl.”

Satoru is not sure if you hear him before falling asleep, but he’ll be sure to remind you, should you ever forget again.

samara’s home cooking show 💞

#𝐇𝐎𝐄𝐒 𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐒

☰ SYNOPSIS ⋮ it’s not suguru’s fault satoru doesn’t treat you right, and it’s not his fault he can treat you better

— pairing ⋮ geto x reader (x gojo)

— tags ⋮ nsfw 18+, fem! reader, toxic! gojo, gojo x reader in the beginning, college! au, cheating (you on gojo), lovesick geto, toxic relationships, mentions of alcohol and drinking, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, slight exhibitionism (he fucks you against a window), disclaimer this is purely fiction

— word count ⋮ 6.8k

— notes ⋮ ty ris and kitty cat for beta reading and micheth and boy scout and viva my love for looking over bits and helping me as i sobbed dbdhjfggf love you all tons

the party should be boring—it should be a bit of a slow one since it’s date night for you and gojo. geto figures if he’s not going to be occupied by his best friend, then he might as well occupy himself with a stranger for the night. it’s a bit of a routine, really, fishing out girls with eyes as close to yours as he can find, and a smile as sweet as he can get. it’s never enough, but he supposes it’s better than nothing.

he smiles at a few girls, watches the way their eyes brighten and their lashes bat and their smiles are so sincere, and then he can’t help but imagine what your smile would look like if you looked at him like that. 

he’s broken from his thoughts when he sees a pair of very familiar eyes—ones that are all too close to yours, and then he furrows his brows. it can’t be you—can it? you’re not supposed to be here, you’re supposed to be enjoying the night with his best friend (although, the thought does make his blood boil, so he can’t really say he’s complaining if you’re not.)

but he’s not mistaken, and there you are, walking in clung to gojo’s arm and pressed into his side (as always) as he saunters up to geto, and there’s a slight glumness on your face that geto can’t help but notice. he offers you a gentle smile, one you just barely reciprocate, one that even as fleeting and half-hearted as it is, makes his heart pound in his chest. he lets gojo clap his shoulder in greeting as he offers a nod in response, eyes still trained on you as you stare down at your feet. 

you look perfect. 

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