tannaztr - Tumblr blog

tannaztr · 1 year ago

Text

My version of Satoru killing the love of his life, Suguru.

This is a part of my original fic that is why you might see Y/N during this part.

“Magnificent,” Geto ignored the pain, leaning against the brick wall and whispering to himself. “Truly magnificent.” He was losing blood and fully aware of it. “If I had Rika, I could have just achieved my goal. Next time…” he promised himself.

The orange hues of dawn painted the sky in orange and red. His eyes met a figure standing in the light while his body rested in shadows. He knew who it was. His heart ached at the sight of him. He already knew what he was forcing the man standing in front of him to do. He had avoided that. At least, he had tried to avoid that. To spare him from this moment. He leaned over the wall, his knees gave way under his wounded body as he let himself sit.

“You are late, Satoru,” Geto couldn't help but let softness seep into his voice when he called his name; he never could resist it. “To think you’d be the one here at my end. Is my family safe?” he asked, trying his best not to look at him. Those ocean-blue eyes of his weren't covered, making it even harder for Geto. He didn’t want to be reminded of those eyes, yet he lied to himself; there wasn’t a moment he had ever forgotten them, not for a second.

“Every last one of them managed to escape,” Satoru responded, holding his fist tight to keep his hand from shaking. All he wanted was to rush over, to hold him, to call Shoko and beg her to heal the man before him. For him. He struggled to keep his voice steady, believing Geto deserved better than a broken murderer. “The ones in Kyoto, were they under your order?” he asked, uncertain why he even brought it up. What he really wanted to say were those three words he had longed to tell him.

“Yeah. Unlike you, I am a kind man. You sent those two assuming I wouldn’t kill them, didn’t you?” Geto asked, his gaze still averted from Satoru. “To set Okkotsu off.”

“I trusted you,” Satoru stated, the three words Geto longed to hear hanging unsaid in the air, words Satoru never had the courage to express. “Trusted that a man as principled as you wouldn’t kill young sorcerers without reason.”

“Trust, huh?” Geto managed a smile, finding Satoru’s belief in him incredulous after everything. “I didn’t think I had any of that left.” He wished he could tell Satoru to hate him, that he deserved to be despised. Trust was something far beyond what he deserved, especially from Satoru—the man he had turned his back on, the man he had ignored while desperately trying to reach out, even after Geto had committed atrocities for what he believed was right.

Lives of hundreds meant little to him, Suguru understood that well. He knew Satoru would shield him against all odds, ready to clash with the higher-ups, prepared to upheave the jujutsu world itself for him. "Do you have any last words?" That question seemed alien coming from Satoru, as if uttered by a stranger inhabiting his body. Satoru couldn't bear the thought of extinguishing the life he held so dear, a life that brought immense joy, cherished memories, and unconditional love into his heart. Suguru was the first to accept him entirely, the only one who saw beyond the facade of strength and impassivity the world assumed of Satoru. As he sat before him, a part of Satoru felt as if it were dying alongside him. Deep down, he yearned for you to be there, to halt his actions, to stand against him, to save Geto from what he was about to do. But you weren't there. How could Satoru ever conceive of taking that life? How could he live with himself afterward, not break down, not shatter into pieces? His hands trembled uncontrollably, betraying his inner turmoil, unable to stay steady as they were poised to take away what he loved most in the world.

"No matter what anyone says, I've always despised those monkeys. Yet, my disdain never extended to those at Jujutsu High. It's just that... I could never truly smile in this world," Suguru mused, his thoughts drifting to you, reminiscing about the days spent with you and Satoru. A longing surged within him to see you one last time.

"Don't tell her it was you who did this," Suguru implored softly. "Don't let her know you were the one to end me." His voice carried a calmness that belied the immense burden such a secret would place on Satoru's shoulders. To keep this from you, the one person besides Suguru whom Satoru could be his true self around, was an unbearable thought. Yet, in his heart, Suguru believed Satoru needed you more than ever after this ordeal. "She'll never forgive you if she learns the truth," he added, wishing he had the strength to assure Satoru that it was alright, that he understood.

"Suguru," Satoru called out gently, his voice a soft echo of the countless times he had uttered his name before—as if none of their tumultuous history had ever occurred. Taking cautious steps closer, Satoru kneeled, avoiding the need to look up, sparing them both additional pain. Their eyes locked, and Suguru's entire being yearned to stand, to bridge the gap between them, to reach out to the man he had wounded—the man who would, from this day forward, carry an unbearable weight in his heart.

"I love you," the words hovered on the brink of silence, a declaration that bore the weight of untold truths, the ardor he had yearned to proclaim aloud the day Suguru chose to walk away. How he had longed to declare it to the world, to let every echo carry the depth of his affection for Suguru. Would those three words have altered their fate? Could they have anchored Suguru, preventing the chasm that now lay between them?

Surprise flickered in Suguru's eyes, a brief spark of what could have been. He knew of Satoru's love, shared the sentiment, yet found himself unable to voice it, unwilling to burden Satoru further. A rueful chuckle escaped him, surrendering to the twisted irony of their final encounter. "At least grace me with some curses in my final moments," he jestingly requested, masking his turmoil with humor.

Satoru's response was swift, a merciful act born from an abyss of agony. He ensured Suguru's end was devoid of pain, sparing him the sensation of life's ebbing tide. Yet, in doing so, Satoru embraced an immeasurable suffering, accepting a lifetime haunted by the pain of this irreversible act.

#satoru x suguru x reader #angst #geto suguru #satosugu #gojo satoru

40 notes · View notes

tannaztr · 2 years ago

Text

After watching the latest episode of jjk I could not resist but to write this.

This is just one part of my fan fiction if you like it please read it in AO3

"Are you certain about this?" Kento's voice wavered as he gazed deeply into your eyes. Your breathing was rapid, almost mirroring his. His hands rested on your sides, holding him in place above you. You glanced at his chest, rising and falling in tandem with yours. Although you'd often visited Jujutsu for commissions and your room had largely remained unchanged, you never imagined you'd be ushering Kento Nanami into it, guiding him with his tie as passionate kisses kept you both connected.

The first two buttons of his shirt were undone, exposing the curve of his neck and a glimpse of his chest. Your heart raced, not only at the sight of his muscular build but most strikingly, his rolled-up sleeves. The prominent veins on his forearms stood out as he used them to support his weight above you on the bed.

In answer to his inquiry, you could only manage a nod, attempting to pull him closer by sliding your hand behind his neck. Yet he remained unmoved, a steadfast presence. "Use your words, Y/N. At this point, I can't gauge your sobriety, and I refuse to be the one to overstep if you're..." His words were drowned out by the mounting anticipation in your gut. "I want you, Kento. I'm more than sure about this. I want you. I want you." Your words were insistent, almost begging hi,. The strength beneath his gentle exterior was intoxicating, causing a whirlwind of emotions. His fingers tenderly grazed your cheek, treating you as if you were the most delicate of artifacts. A sensation so foreign, so different from any previous touch you'd known. It heightened your desire, intensified your yearning. How was he able to stoke such passion with a mere caress?

"Easy there, angel," he murmured, his chosen endearment making your heart flutter all the more. As he drew nearer, his lips found your earlobe, sending a shiver down your spine. The warmth that began at your cheeks now settled deeper within, pooling in your core. "I need to be certain," he murmured sensually into your ear. But by now, it was clear he was well aware and merely reveling in your impatience. Unable to resist, you bit down on his shoulder, seeking to elicit some response, some break in his control. But all you earned was a low, amused chuckle.

"Perhaps I should've named you 'kitty'," he teased, his voice a sultry rumble. "A little feline who uses her teeth and claws to claim what she desires." You bit down again in response, yet even in this act of defiance, you were acutely aware that he was masterfully dictating the pace, keeping you dancing to his tune.

As his lips trailed down to your neck, tenderly nipping at the sensitive skin, you released his shoulder, replacing the bite with an impassioned moan. You arched toward him, craving the friction he purposefully kept just out of reach. Frustrated and desperate for some relief, your hand instinctively traveled to your core.

"That's not how we're playing this," he intercepted your hand before it reached its destination. You let out an indignant noise, caught between a hiss and a plea. Effortlessly, he pinned both your hands above your head. Using his free hand, he removed his tie and bound your wrists together. In defiance, and yearning for more contact, you wrapped your legs tightly around his waist, trying to draw him closer, eager to feel him against you.

"Remember to communicate with me. If it becomes too much, say 'red' and I'll stop," he instructed, his voice authoritative yet laced with concern. It felt like eons away, the possibility of wanting him to stop.

You nodded, then quickly corrected, "Yes." A pleased smirk graced his lips.

"Good girl. But even with your hands restrained, you're still so eager," he observed, his voice a purr, his expression a shade darker, setting your nerves alight with anticipation. He anchored your tied hands to the bed's headboard, ensuring your limited mobility. His left hand then delicately cradled the back of your skull. You braced for his next touch, thinking it would be as gentle as the last. But in a swift change of pace, his fingers tightened in your hair, angling your head back. His other hand then delivered a sharp slap to your clothed core, making you gasp, the sting contrasting with the warmth that spread through you.

He halted momentarily, observing you intently, gauging your reactions, ensuring you were still on board. Rather than retreat, you arched your back defiantly, silently communicating your readiness for whatever he had in mind. With a swift move, he pushed your skirt up and delivered another sharp slap — with one barrier less, the sensation was more pronounced. A sharp cry escaped your lips, your knees faltering from the rush of sensations.

"Do you crave more?" he inquired, using his knees to part your legs further. Pressing a finger against your dampened panties, he teased, "Does my discipline excite you, kitty?"

Caught in the intensity of the moment, his sudden hair tug choked any sassy retort you might've had. "Yes," you breathed. His grip persisted, prompting you to quickly add, "Yes, sir." Satisfied, he released your hair, nudging your underwear aside.

"A well-behaved kitty deserves a treat," he whispered, sending a shiver down your spine as his finger made contact with your sensitive spot. Your moans filled the room. "Please... please," you pleaded.

"Specify, kitty. What do you desire?" he inquired with a smirk, gently stimulating you. "Please, I need..." Words failed you, choking in your throat. Sensing your vulnerability, he leaned in, tenderly placing a kiss on your cheek. In a hushed tone, more genuine than any role they were playing, he whispered, "Are you overwhelmed?"

You nodded, gathering courage from his genuine concern, even as the pace of his touch quickened.

"I need you inside me. Please, sir," you pleaded, your voice desperate.

He chuckled softly against your ear, "It's too soon for that." You tried to voice your frustration, but as another of his fingers slipped within you, your words morphed into a deep moan. Your back arched off the bed, seeking more contact. "Patience, angel," he chided gently, his voice filled with restrained desire. "It might take me a while to adjust to this reality." He continued to move his fingers within you, all the while caressing you with his thumb. "I've yearned for you for so long that it feels like I'm still dreaming," he murmured, the raw honesty evident in his tone.

You tried to reply, but your mind was flooded, consumed entirely by the sensations he evoked. Words eluded you. Kento lightly nibbled on your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

"I wouldn't dare take you in my dreams, Y/N. That would be presumptuous. But I can indulge in pleasuring you, even if this turns out to be a mere dream."

Your muscles tightened around his fingers, your body trembling on the precipice of release. Gently, Kento grasped your hair, pulling your head back slightly. "But you can't climax without my permission," he reminded you softly. Desperation fueled your voice as you tried to form the words, your thoughts scattered. "May... I... come... sir?" you managed to stammer, gripping his tie tightly as if it was your lifeline.

He leaned in, lips brushing your ear, "Yes, angel. You may."

A powerful cry escaped your lips as waves of pleasure washed over you.

Your body shuddered, every nerve ending tingling with the sensation Kento had drawn from you. Your breaths came fast, eyes closed, as you rode the waves of your climax. You could feel his breath, warm and steady, against your neck, and his fingers, which had brought you such pleasure, now stilled but remained within.

After a few moments, Kento gently withdrew his hand and leaned over you, pressing soft kisses to your forehead, your cheeks, and finally, your lips. The gentleness of the gesture was in stark contrast to the intensity of moments before, and it left you feeling cherished and cared for.

Pulling back slightly, his eyes, always so stern and commanding, now looked at you with a softness you hadn't seen before. "Was that good for you?" he whispered, a hint of vulnerability in his voice.

You nodded weakly, still struggling to find your voice after the powerful release. "Very," you finally managed to say, your voice hoarse.

A small smile played on his lips. "I'm glad," he murmured, pressing another chaste kiss to your lips. He then shifted, lying beside you, pulling you into his embrace. The two of you lay like that for a while, bodies intertwined, basking in the afterglow.

The contrast between the man who took control and the man who now held you gently was not lost on you. Kento was a man of many layers, and you felt privileged to uncover them, one by one.

#nanami kento #jjk nanami #nanami x reader #nanami smut #dom nanami sub reader

30 notes · View notes