No Thoughts Just Gojo Singing Reader A Happy-go-lucky “Gan-ba-re! Gan-ba-re!” While He’s Slowly

Tainted Love

Yandere! Gojo Satoru x Reader (Modern/Mafia Au!)

- Billionaire Gojo brainrot <3 

Right, Gojo Satoru doesn’t believe in love. But you make him happy, so unbearably happy that it scares him how afraid he is to wake up one day and find you gone.

Warnings: Yandere themes, mentions of gore/violence & guns, ‘NSFW’, ‘smut’, dark themes (slight mentions of past abuse, suicide & cheating), extreme possessive/obsessive behaviour

—–

The first time you meet him, he tries to buy the last strawberry sliced cake that you were both eyeing for triple its price. 

“Hey, I saw that first.” A youthful voice, clear and bright.

The wooden tongs, hovering carefully over the cake freezes. It nearly slips out of your fingers when a hard body jostles against your elbow and you blink in surprise at the force before righting yourself in mild annoyance. 

Silently, you turned to face the culprit. A dark blue baseball cap and a pair of dark tinted sunglasses perched on the elegant bridge of his nose that shields his gaze. He’s absurdly tall, enough so that you had to crane your neck up in order to look properly at his face. You swear you catch a hint of silver that gleams teasingly underneath the shadows of his cap. 

You blink again and he clicks his tongue. “Are you going to take it?” 

“Would you take it if I didn’t?” You said slowly, pondering your next words. Curious eyes flicker over his outfit, he’s dorned in black from head to toe, leaving only a silver of his collarbones peeking out the collar. 

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Yeehaw! Hisoillu week day 7!! Today’s prompt is AU  🐎 🤠

Th’e horse’s name is Bungee Gum

Doodles bc I have free time but I can't draw 🙄

JJK BOYS

(Gojo, Nanami, Toji, Geto, Choso, Inumaki)

Click the pictures for better quality.

Credits to srkork on IG

‼️not my art‼️

Permission.

Bad Decisions

was meant to be a drabble inspired by the opening of It Follows and it turned into something a lot longer than I expected sorry if it’s trash

Warnings: kidnapping, noncon, dubcon, death

The waves of the ocean lazily lapped at the sandy shore, the water hitting you every time the tide came in. The stereotypical image of a beach that had crossed your mind when you’d thought of this destination, one of a deep blue sea on golden sands, was nowhere to be found. Instead, the waves were black, reflecting the dark, empty sky above. The only light source in your vicinity was that of the car parked behind you, keys left in the ignition so you could keep the headlights on. You sat in the middle of that spotlight, hugging your knees to your chest as the water continued to hit you, soaking your feet and the seat of your shorts, leaving the fabric feeling cold and heavy on your body.

It was as though the waves were trying to pull you in, to take you into the abyss that sat before you, where you could disappear into its depths and never be found again.

The waves came rushing up, hitting you once more and then pulling away, tempting you with the same offer as they had been since you arrived.

“You’re wrong,” you whispered, “he’d still find me.”

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Title: Meet Cute.

Pairing Yandere!Illumi x Reader (HxH).

Word Count: 1.5k.

TW: Violence, Mentions of Blood, and Implied Kidnapping.

The first thing you noticed about Illumi was, unsurprisingly, his hair.

Black as ink, waist-length, allowed to fall in front of his face in a way that just managed to draw more attention to his dull, glassy eyes. It caught the club’s technicolor lights in a way you couldn’t really describe – distorting everything, turning it muted and silvery and dark. That was what you tried to focus on as you approached him, shouldering past people dancing and carrying drinks back to friends already too inebriated to stand. You would’ve liked somewhere more open, less crowded, but you didn’t pick the spot, and there’d be time for that later on, another day, another night.

Right now, you just wanted to talk to the strange man nursing a neon-dyed cocktail and staring blankly at the far wall.

“Hey,” You started as you reached the bar, letting your coat fall off of your shoulders, down to the bends of your elbows. The bartender glanced towards you, but you waved her off, turning to face Illumi, instead. “All by yourself?”

He didn’t say anything, not immediately. At first, you thought he hadn’t heard you, that the music was too loud or you were too quiet or he just didn’t care to entertain your attempts at conversation. But, in a few seconds, he let his head lull to the side and clicked his tongue, taking another generous sip from his drink before answering. “I wasn’t,” He said, nodding towards the other side of the club, towards a man with pink hair and his hands on a woman’s hips. You flinched, about to panic, but if there was any jealousy in his tone, any anger, you couldn’t find it. Just the slightest trace of annoyance, as if someone had stepped on his foot or cut him in line. “But I think I may be, now.”

You let out a breathy laugh, and finally, his attention shifted, centering itself vaguely on you. “Don’t worry, I got ditched too. You know what it’s like with that kind of friend – here one second and gone the next. Never with any warning, obviously, ‘cause that’d make it too easy on the rest of us.” You paused, crossing your arms over the countertop. “At least we can be alone together, though.”

Another moment of silence, just a beat longer than the last. He seemed to evaluate you, gaze flickering from your shoes to your chest to your face – all without ever making any effort to hide his inspection. When he was done, his expression seemed to change, to relax, if only enough for his scowl to soften into what was still definitely a frown, but one portrayed something more apathetic than irritated. “I was about to leave,” A glance toward the pink-haired man, just to make sure he was still busy, then back to you. “Will you come with me, if I do?”

It took you a moment to process the question.

Oh.

Oh.

That was easier than you'd expected it to be.

You nodded, a little too quickly, then remembered how to speak, stumbling over your words as you rushed to reply. “No, yeah, I’m good—I mean, I will, I—” You grabbed his hand, already tugging him towards the exit. “Let’s go.”

There was a breath of a chuckle, a brush of his bicep against yours as he stepped in front of you to take the lead. You started to let go of him, but he only took you by the wrist, in return, giving you a strange look over his shoulder. You didn’t try to distance yourself from him again.

The club was crowded, but the street outside was nearly empty, occupied solely by a handful of pedestrians and a few couples sitting on the curb, waiting for a ride or trying to sober up before their walk. If Illumi was drunk, if he was even buzzed, you couldn’t tell. He didn’t stumble, or lean on you, or seem flustered at all beyond a light flush dusted across his cheeks, just barely visible in the dim streetlights. You’d arrived after him, had half as much to drink, but you still managed to trip over your own feet, to give yourself an excuse to lean into his side and hold onto his arm as you muttered apologies. Again, if he was affected, if he cared, you couldn’t tell. It certainly didn’t show in his voice, when he next spoke. “My hotel isn’t far. You’ll make it.”

“Ah, a hotel?” Your grin widened, your head coming to rest on his shoulder. “You’re not from around here, are you?”

There really was no one on the street. You’d gotten lucky with the timing – too late to catch anyone coming home from work or heading out for their night shift, but too early for you to have to worry about people draining out of closing bars. You might've thanked him, if that'd been an option. “I’m not. My colleague and I are just in town for work.”

“Oh? What do you do?”

“I take people out.”

Your smile faltered, but barely. “Like... an escort?”

“Not exactly…” He trailed off, a smile ghosting over his lips for the first time that night. “Like an assassin.”

You didn’t say anything, for a second.

Then, you laughed harshly, loudly, until your chest hurt and you were holding onto him for support. “You’re really funny, Illumi,” You said, hooking your arm around his and dragging him off course, into a narrow alleyway – barely wide enough to let two people stand side-by-side. “C’mon, I know a shortcut. You’ll thank me in a few minutes.”

The reassurance was unnecessary. He didn’t argue, even as you led him down the side-alley, even as the streetlights faded into total darkness, even as you came to a wire fence taller than you could possibly hope to climb with any kind of dignity. When you pulled away, letting him go completely, he smiled – a full-blown smile – with that kind of ‘I trust you, but what’s going on?’ lilt. You only shrugged, clasping your hands behind your back, underneath your coat.

Before he could run, before he could react, you found the hilt of the knife tucked into your waistline, pressed into the base of your spine. One motion. Draw the blade, get it in both hands, then plunge it into his neck. Just one motion. It’d take less than a second. One motion, then it’d be done.

He caught your wrist as soon as you raised the knife, and in the blink of an eye, you were thrown forward, into the fence, his other hand wrapping around your throat to keep you in place. “I was starting to wonder when we were going to get around to this.” He was grinning wildly, now, his eyes wide and his lips pulled thin. It looked painful. It looked wrong. “Is someone paying you, or is this just a hobby of yours?”

You bared your teeth, in response, snarled, but he only tightened his hold on your wrist and you cried out, automatically dropping your weapon. You opened your mouth, but he cut you off before you could start to curse him out. “Please, don’t make this difficult. I don’t want to have to kill you so early on.”

You hesitated, but his nails dug into the sides of your neck and his palm pressed into your windpipe and you relented before he could change his mind. There were very few places you would want to be gutted by a total stranger, and a dirty alleyway wasn't on your list. “Paid,” You managed to spit out, and instantly, his grip loosened. His smile didn’t ease up, but you tried to look away. “I don’t know his name, and he paid me in cash. He just said—He said that your family fucked him over, and—”

There were footsteps, coming from the main street. You held your breath, for a moment, considered screaming, but a man’s silhouette came into view before you could, then over-styled pink hair, and…

And blood. Coating his hands, smeared across his street, spotted over his clothes. Immediately, you felt bile begin to rise in your throat.

He hadn’t been joking.

They were murderers. Fucking murderers.

Fuck.

If Illumi was alarmed, he didn’t show it. You were beginning to think he was just like that – as stoic as he was inhumanly strong. “Hisoka, is the target—”

“Taken care of, sweetheart.” He— Hisoka answered, coming to a stop at Illumi’s side. “Did kitten finally use its claws, or did someone lose his patience first?”

His hand drifted upward, forcing you to tilt your head back, then the side, inspecting you again, letting his eyes pry into you unabashedly. “Someone wants me dead.” A blunt explanation, but Hisoka seemed to understand, nodding with a slight hum. “We’ll have to be careful if we ever come back. They may actually contact a professional, next time.”

“And?” Hisoka eyed you, warily. “What do you want to do with our little stray, here?”

Finally, finally, Illumi released you, but you didn’t have time to run. His fist was already wrapping around your collar, dragging you into his chest. In the back of your mind, you realized that he hadn’t stopped grinning, not since you’d gotten him into the alleyway, not since you attacked him.

It was all you could do to hope that he'd stop, soon, and never force you to see something so monstrous again.

“I suppose every stray deserves a good home, don't they?”

Imagine Gojo, begging him not to nut in you and to use a condom instead. He says yes surprisingly quickly, all smiles. Then he puts you in a mating press, legs up by your ears and goes to town on you. When your done doing the do he pulls out, shit eating grin on his face, quickly he takes off the dom, flips it inside out and empties the contents right back into your twitching, unsuspecting pussy. You cry out but he has you trapped. Legs still above your head, he parts your lips and continues.

You can try to push him away to no avail, his grin growing wider. You can desperately try and push his seed out, begging him to stop, telling him that you’re not on birth control, that you seriously could get pregnant from this, that he’s a sicko for what he’s doing to you. That earns you a dark chuckle and two skilled fingers at the entrance of your cunt, pushing his sloppy cum back into your well used pussy.

The message is very clear. Gojo can do whatever he wants with you, you are in no position to refuse.

15 ways Gojo annoys you

introducing the best worst boyfriend ever 

1. Will roll on your side of the bed and throw his whole body on top of yours. And when you literally try to pinch him to get off of you, he snores even louder in response, sneakily peeking one eye open and quickly closing it before you could catch him.

2. Is the type to harass you when you’re in the bathroom. Will burst in and go into a full on conversation while leaning against the counter, ignoring the way you’re glaring daggers at him as you sit on the toilet, or he’d slide notes underneath the door that say things like “Do you like me 🥰? Circle yes or no.” Also will pour flour/excessive amounts of shampoo on your head if you’re in the shower just to prank you.

3. Never on time to pick you up. And when he actually is there on time, he makes sure that his music is on full blast and it’s something really embarrassing or vulgar. You look mortified as he slowly pulls up in front of you, rolling the passenger window down with a smirk on his face.

4. Takes pictures of you while you’re asleep with your mouth hung open and slob dribbling down your chin. He poses next to you with the peace sign and a huge smile across his face, posting all the pictures he took on his story and tagging you so you’d have a surprise for when you woke up in the morning.

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Lovesick

Tw: Yandere themes, noncon, dubcon, lemon, implied death, toxic relationships. If you are under the age of 18 or find this content upsetting, please do not proceed.

Your sore legs tremble as you curl in on yourself. Sticky fluid drips between your thighs, pooling onto the sheets below.

A shame, you just changed them.

You push down your building exasperation, instead, you take slow, steady breaths.

(in, out, in, out).

You listen to the sound of the cars speeding on the damp asphalt outside your window. You listen to the rustle of tree branches in the night’s breeze. You even listen to the foxes mating outside, if you let your mind wander a little bit, it’s like you can imagine someone screaming as they are brutally murdered.

That brings a small smile to your face.

You grip the sheets tighter, you can feel their soft fibres, you can feel the individual hairs sticking to your face, you can feel-

Sharp fingertips tracing the curves of your body.

And just like that, you are brought back to reality. The hot body plastered to your back is impossible to ignore, just as the hands that run languidly along your form are. You lay still as his gaze burns holes into your back, and for a second, you think that maybe if you are still enough, he’ll believe you’re asleep and leave you alone.

(Fat chance, when has he ever left you alone before?)

His nails graze the sensitive spot at the bottom of your spine and you can’t help but shudder under the touch. He chuckles softly in response.

“Love, you know I hate to be ignored, don’t you?” He whispers lowly, his tone deceptively benevolent, holding an implicit warning.

“And after we spent so long apart, you can’t possibly think I’d let our time together go to waste now would you?”

It’s as if he can sense what you are thinking. You feel your previous irritation bubble up, spilling over before you can put a lid on it.

“Isn’t that what this is?” You snap before you can think better of it.

“Hm?”

“A waste-”, you stupidly continue, “a waste of time, for the both of us, I mean, let's face it- this whole arrangement is no longer any fun.” Your words tail off slightly at the end, the weight of your misstep finally hitting you full force. The atmosphere in the room shifts almost instantaneously.

“Fun?” He asks, tone still light, if slightly strained.

If you were anyone else, you think, you would not have even recognised the switch from playful to livid in his tone. If you were literally anyone else, however, you wouldn’t have to.

You think about that sometimes, just how many people have met their end by simply misreading him, misunderstanding him. You used to pride yourself on that, thinking it made you special, immune to his sick desires and tendency to break things too quickly.

Oh, how wrong you were.

Learning to read him does little to save you from his ever changing moods and whims, something that was once both interesting and exhilarating now exhausting and sometimes downright terrifying.

Fun. Your relationship, if you could call it that, used to be fun, didn’t it?

“Yes, fun. Hisoka, you know?” You elaborate, “Ha ha, ‘you make me laugh so much I want to vomit’ fun?, or- ‘lets strip naked and jump into the river kind of fun,” you continue, bitterness clear in your voice. “Not, ‘I want to tear off your skin and wear it as my own’, or-, ‘lets beat each other black and blue until one of us can’t physically stand’, you know? That.. that's not fun at all.”

Realising the futility of your little rant, you cut yourself short, attempting to zone out once again.

You are, however, not given the chance as the Magician manhandles you onto your back and straddles your sides. The sheets silk slip off his form, and the Grecian contours of his naked body are illuminated in the low light.

No more words escape you as his face hovers directly above yours, one arm braced by your head, smile still plastered across his damn face. You stare back impassively into his narrowed gaze, tensing up. He’s pissed, that's for sure.

“Why not both, pet? I assure you, you look as pretty-”, slender digits encircle your neck, ‘‘black and blue’ as you do smiling, my dear.” He grins, cheerfully sinister. Then magician’s grip tightens without warning.

“Fffuck-,yyou.” you barely manage to wheeze out, beginning to struggle in his iron grip. You’re too weak to fight, you belatedly realise, after what he's put you through tonight.

To your dawning horror, you feel his length hardening once again against your stomach.

No way.

After weighing your options, you look up at him with pleading eyes, regretting your words.

You attempt to rasp out a desperate apology, only to be met with lovesick obsession in his honeyed gaze. Knowing begging will only fall on deaf ears, you stay like that, seemingly trapped within it, you fear if you look too long, you’ll be swallowed up by it.

“Your so mean to me, love,” he whines, faux-wounded, “after I left all those presents for you,” he breathes out heavily, his cheeks tinged pink, “and spent so much time making sure people would leave you alone,” he continues, over the sounds of you gasping for air, all the while grinding down onto you, “ and taking care of all your.. needs” he remarks mockingly as he grinds onto your clit, smirk broadening as he relishes your little gasps and shudders under his ministrations.

Ah yes, the presents. Hisoka is like a cat, you think, dropping dead animals at the feet of its owner and expecting a reward.

An extremely persistent, homicidal cat that is.

He releases your neck as you almost begin to pass out, black spots appearing in the corners of your vision. You splutter and gasp for air, having no time to appreciate your ability to breathe once again as he sheathes himself fully into your wet, cum filled cunt.

It’s all you can do to cry and whimper as you clench around his cock, helpless to do anything other than let him do what he wants to your weak mind and body. You take him in completely as he starts up a punishing pace, the redhead gripping your hips harshly, leaving purple, finger-sized indents.

Above you Hisoka moans wantonly, taking in your disheveled state: drool dripping from your chin, unshed tears shining in your eyes, the bloom of angry red and purple hickeys that litter your body. Weakly, you attempt to push him away. That earns you a swift backhand across the face.

“No Hiso… no no” you whine, one hand pressing against the stinging side of your face as the other claws at his back and shoulders desperately. Tears finally spill over. He moans once again as he laps the salty droplets up eagerly, slowing his thrusts in place of marking you more thoroughly.

You cling to him desperately, hoping he'll be done with you soon.

You’ll never admit it, but both of you know he’s correct in the fact that he takes care of your needs. He knows your body too well after all. You sob when he focuses on your neck and jawline, sucking on that spot beneath your ear; he knows every little part of you, all your sensitive spots and how to exploit them in order to make you scream and shudder beneath his touch.

Your mind begins to wonder, about those lonely nights, when he disappears for months at a time; and how you touch yourself desperately, unable to recreate the sensations he creates.

You think about the men you tried to fill that hole with.

You think about the small pieces of them you found afterwards.

His voice breaks you from your musings.

“Where’s that bravado from before, Pet?” He remarks, tone drizzled with condescension, before lavishing more open mouthed kisses along your neck. “Tell me I’m wrong,” he whispers, “that there's someone else you could possibly belong to other than me, tell me you don’t love me.” He coos, stroking along your face, your collarbone, your breasts.

“I- I don’t” you croak out feebly.

Your chest hurts.

Both of you can sense the lack of conviction in your tone. You stare at him in disbelief.

First your body, now has your mind decided to betray you too?

You must not be feeling well.

There’s just no way you could still love him. Not after what he’d done to you, it was impossible, right?

Impossible, just like enjoying being continually fucked against your will by your crazy stalker and ex-boyfriend.

Impossible.

Your chest hurts. Why does your face feel wet?

Hisoka’s eyes widen a fraction, the tense atmosphere from before dissipates. It seems your understanding of each other goes both ways.

You shake your head frantically, willing him to understand, to not take this the wrong way. You weren’t in love with him. Never. Not in a million years.

“No-“ you begin, cut off by the passionate kiss he captures your lips in. He kisses you deeply, less rough than before, more tongue and less teeth.

After what feels like eternity, the redhead detaches from you with a wet pop as his eyes capture yours once again. You pant, your wet cheeks aflame with both anger and embarrassment.

“I knew you would come around my love, I just didn’t expect it so soon, hm?” He says delightedly, the smile on his face abnormally authentic.

Hisoka tilts his head, peering down at you in silent awe, the Magician‘s pace slowing and deepening, just how you like it. You twitch around him in response.

“You must like me an awful lot, considering our history, pet. I have to say, you might be sick in the head.” He whispers almost mockingly. He presses a soft kiss to your temple as he strokes your face, his eyes filled with adoration.

“Although I don’t mind it, one bit”, the bastard remarks, having the audacity to wink down at you as he whispers conspirationaly. Your lip curls in disgust, your anger rising. More tears drip down your face. His thumb comes down to press against your plush lips.

You grit your teeth.

Then you go against what any rational person would do and bite down on his hand. Hard.

He hisses lightly, whether in pleasure or pain you don't care, as you use this distraction to head butt him in the face with full force. Blood gushes from his nose and you take in the sight with glee, hoping to slip out from under him as he's dazed.

Despite the pain you’ve inflicted on him, he remains steady, clutching you tighter as he stares down at you, eyes widened. Some of the blood from his nose drops on to your face as you struggle to no avail in his grip.

You pretty much figured this would be the case. Stil, there's satisfaction to be gained from his shocked expression.

You should be upset by your helplessness. Your inability to harm him properly.

The fact that you might still love him.

Fuck. Fuck

Instead, you laugh. You laugh and laugh and laugh. A scratchy, shrill sound aided by your bruised windpipe.

You laugh harder as you feel his cock twitch and harden further inside you, his blood warm and dripping on your face. Hisoka’s expression crinkles into one of delight. Of course he’s aroused by this. Of course.

He joins in too, cackling as he restarts his rough pace from before, and as you smile to yourself, arms looping around his neck, you think he may be right, you must be sick in the head.

Having nasty thoughts about Gojo. I feel like he’s the type to frustrate and bully you until you cry.

He’d defo also force you into little space all the time, telling you things like “you’re too little to understand” and cooing at you in a really condescending tone, every time you get mad or try to fight him he’d continue the bullying and the cycle would just repeat.

He’d show up at your work, tell everyone you know that you two are dating. If you ever tried to bring it up he’d play it off, acting smug and asking you if you had a crush on him before antagonising you some more.

He would blow hot and cold, telling you that you’re delusional and in the same week, show up out of the blue offering you a bouquet of flowers and begging you to move in with him (after your apartment blew up under “mysterious circumstances” ofc). How did he even know where you lived?

Eventually you’d be too exhausted to fight him and end up in little space all the time. Whining at him and asking him permission for the smallest things, the worse thing is, he’d break you down so slowly over a long period that you wouldn’t even realise its happening .

I feel like he wouldn’t want you to be too tame however, he’d let you act up, riling you up in public spaces and punishing you privately at home.

Don’t make him too jealous tho, he wouldn’t like that. He’s all smiles in front of his darling whilst contemplating where to dispose the body of the guy you were so brazenly flirting with. He’d keep his cool, playing up appearances until he gets home, and next thing you know you’re kept tied to his bed all weekend. 💜