clashstories

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dog days are over | masterlist

pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader x geto suguru / ieiri shoko & reader

summary: for all the many talks about marriages and weddings and matchmaking ceremonies, you suppose it was only reasonable for Satoru and Suguru to be interested in the next step of their lives, together, or even with a potential third. One of the many beautiful well bred women of higher jujutsu society with enough grit and grace to handle them both. There'd be no place for you in their lives after. Knowing this is one thing. Coming to terms with it is another.

full warnings/tags: misunderstandings, jealousy, unhealthy relationships, possessive behavior, eventual smut, threesomes, themes of depression & mental illness, mentions of disassociation, pining, friends with benefits to (eventual) lovers, angst & hurt/comfort, self esteem issues, sexism & misogyny, slowburn, mentions of child abuse, polyamory, loss of virginity

a/n: hello.....this is long awaited poly fic......i can't believe we've actually reached this point. this fic is a labor of so much love and effort, not just from me but from others who have loved this fic into existence. not to be sappy, but i'm emotional! that being said! please heed the warnings. let's bold the misunderstandings/miscommunication tag. anyway if you stick around to the end i hope you find it a worthwhile journey. i suppose i could give my typical gojo n geto warnings but instead i will say that if gojo loves horribly and geto too much then the both of them love almost oppressively. good luck!

chapter one chapter two chapter three chapter four chapter five [tba]

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geto when he finds you awake in the middle of the night

it was sometime during the dark hours when you found yourself awake, your throat begging for a tall glass of ice cold water.

the only problem was that you were being held captive by geto's entire body. he always claimed to be the big spoon ("darling, it's my job to protect you in your sleep," he'd say whenever you asked him to switch), but most mornings you'd find him sprawled on top of your body--you both knew he'd always succumb to your head scratches.

huffing, you rolled his body off of yours, barely managing to untangle your limbs. ensuring that geto was still asleep, you slid out of bed and quietly made your way to the kitchen.

you hadn't even finished putting ice into the cup when geto nearly took the life out of you.

"why are you up?" he grumbled, "it's the middle of the night."

barely suppressing a yelp, you whispered, "i'm just thirsty, suguru. go back to bed, i'll be there soon."

you turned back to the sink to fill your cup, still desperate for a cold drink. geto came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, burying his head in your shoulder with a deep sigh.

"alright, angel. but i'm staying here with you."

the two of you stood there like that for a few minutes as you savored the frigid water while geto tried his hardest not to fall asleep again, relishing in your warmth.

"okay, suguru, i'm done. we can go back," you say lightly, nudging his head.

he merely grumbled and picked you up, walking back to your shared room.

geto, being the gentleman that he is, placed you under the covers and kissed your forehead despite his drowsiness. he practically stumbled into bed, too tired to pretend he wanted to be big spoon at this point.

he flopped onto you, encircling his arms around your body.

"you are not getting out of this bed for the rest of the night."

"but suguru, what i have to pee?" you whined. "i just drank like, three glasses of water."

"don't care. hold it in," he mumbled, already falling back asleep.

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birthday dinner with an old friend.

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All three parts together :) Make sure you full view. Enjoy! 

Find me at Redbubble here!

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New friend on head <3

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catholic jason, an alternate version, and detail shots

prints here and here!

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on the bed, on the couch, bent over the kitchen counter, by the fireplace, against the wall, in the shower, on the floor, in the basement, against the window, in front of a mirror, missionary, cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, doggy, backwards, sideways, outside, in the car,

[clashstories]

catholic jason, an alternate version, and detail shots

prints here and here!

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i want a full ep about toji and mamaguro's first meeting

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single father duties 🏖️

[clashstories]

For the Hell of It - Mine

Characters: Jason Todd x fem!oc

Rating and warnings: T, they're naked but not up to anything.

Word count: 1,333

Summary: A quiet conversation in bed, after Jason and her spend the night together for the first time.

Masterlist

They lay naked and sprawled around each other on Jason’s bed. The sweat on their skin had cooled and the soft sheets were tangled haphazardly. 

He felt more relaxed than he had been in years. 

He lay crossways from Andy, while she sat against the headboard, dyed a soft gold in the half-light of the table lamp. His head rested on one of her thighs while the other leg was carelessly slung across his chest, bent at the knee. He draped an arm over the calf in front of him, enjoying the softness of her skin. She played with his hair, lightly scratching his scalp and drawing contented little hums from him. 

She kept threatening to go shower but had made no move to leave. Good. He had no desire to let her go, or any intention of moving at all within the next twelve hours.

He had been so afraid if he made a move it would all be ruined. Their friendship tarnished with the awkwardness of a boundary clumsily stumbled over with no way back. 

Yet here she was, hair mussed and body languid in his bed, leisurely inspecting the book on his bedside table. 

He had never been inclined to half measures. In for a penny. 

“Be mine,” he said. 

She looked up from Scalzi’s Old Man’s War. “Okay.” 

He had expected demurring. Hesitation. Rejection’s kinder faces. 

“Only mine,” he said, wary. He’d had his flings. Rose showed up every now again for a good time. But just about everyone he’d ever been with had been with Dick first, and usually again after. He didn’t want that this time. 

She put the book down and looked at him with slight consternation. 

“Jason, I’ve been yours alone for a while now.” 

His eyebrows rose.

She scoffed. “And here I was worried I was pathetically obvious and you were just being gracious.”

“...I didn’t want to assume.”

She smiled at him. Then she blinked and spoke quickly, “Not that I was just hanging out to get laid. Your friendship means the world to me, if this doesn’t work out I am still going to care about you.”

“I know that.” He idly rubbed her leg, massaging her thigh. He’d had dreams about these legs. He always woke up feeling like he’d crossed a line. “But you said you weren’t interested in anything. With anyone.” 

“Sure, two years ago. What about you? I thought you didn’t want anything either.”

He shrugged. “It was easy to say that before what I wanted was right in front of me.” He tilted his head, looking up at the ceiling. “When we met, I didn’t have a civilian life. Jason Todd existed only in the sense that Red Hood had to sleep sometimes.”

The hand in his hair curled gently against his scalp. “And now?” 

“I don’t want to live like that anymore.”

“So what do you want? From me?”

He looked sideways, eyes tracing up her leg, over a thatch of curls he was now on good terms with, and up her naked chest to her face. He quirked an eyebrow.

She hit him with a pillow.

He laughed.

“Besides that,” she groused, pulling the pillow back and tucking it behind her. “We spend so much time together that my friends are convinced we’ve been banging all year anyway.”

“...Are they?”

“I, uh, may have shot down Chelsea with more vehemence than necessary when she asked for your number.”

He grinned. “Jealous already, sweets?”

“I wasn’t jealous. I was… invested.” 

“Sure. Is that what we’re calling it now?”

She sighed and slouched some more. She looked so good, relaxed like this, so unaffected. He spent too much time around hyper-competent, over-trained paranoid maniacs who couldn’t relax if their life counted on it. He counted among them. The only reason she hadn’t complained about the gun strapped to the headboard that had to be digging into her back was because she was wonderful.

“I swear I didn’t mean to give her the impression we were dating. I got waspish and she drew her own conclusions.” 

Guilt twinged in his chest. He rubbed circles into her skin with his thumb. 

“You remember that guy who used to be in your study group? Scraggly ginger beard, shared a history paper?” 

She tilted her head in thought for a second. “Ed.”

“He liked to talk about all the things he wanted to do to you when it was just guys in the room.”

“Oh.” she scowled. “Gross.” 

She didn’t need to know the graphic fantasies he described, or the black rage Jason felt at the knowing little smirks shared with the other men she hung out with. People who called themselves her friends. 

 “I chased him off. Gave him the impression you and I were something more than we were.” 

The hand in his hair stopped moving. “Did you just?”

“He was a dog. No respect for any woman.”

“Ah. But he respected the threat of an angry boyfriend?”

“Pretty much,” he admitted. 

“High-handed of you,” she commented. “When I stop feeling all warm inside I’m probably going to be annoyed about that.” 

He kissed her knee. “Sorry I told a creep that if he ever talks about my girl like that again I’ll break his jaw.” 

“I–No you’re not,” she said, a hand over her mouth to ineffectually hide a smile.

“Na, I’m not. I meant it then and I mean it now. Are you gonna keep pretending you don’t like it when I’m possessive?”

“Hm. Probably too late to make it convincing.”

“Much too late.” He’d been made emphatically, delightfully, aware of how much she liked it when he called her his less than an hour ago.

He twisted and climbed up her body, resting between her legs. She grazed her hands down his sides as he dragged himself up to her head. Her skin pressed against his felt so good and warm. It wasn’t errotic, but it was profoundly intimate. He looked up into her eyes. 

“My girlfriend doesn’t have to fend for herself. I won’t tell you what to do, but I get to tell fuckheads to look elsewhere or have their eyes removed. That’s what I want. Let me take care of you the best I can.” 

She breathed a light, “oh.” She traced his scarred eyebrow. “Okay.”

He leaned up and kissed her. 

It felt so natural. He liked doing that very much. 

She pulled back a moment later, and looked him square in the eye. “I want you to give my number to whoever you go to for your emergency, middle of the night surgeries.”

He cocked his head. “I’ll call you if anything happens.”

“And if you can’t? This has been eating me since before I knew you were Red Hood. If anything happened to you, how would I know? Would I ever know?” She blinked quickly, a sudden influx of emotion in her eyes he hadn’t been expecting. “I can’t protect you. You don’t need my protection. That doesn’t mean I don’t care.”

He rested his forehead on hers. 

It was against Bat protocol. It put a huge amount of faith in her and demanded trust from him that left him feeling exposed and aching in a number of directions. 

He’d already made his decision. 

“Leslie Thompkins. The clinic in the Alley. I’ll have you added as an emergency contact. And Alfred already has your details, I’ll tell him you’re the first call when I’m seriously injured.” 

“Thank you,” she breathed. 

He kissed her again. 

“Okay,” she said, when they parted. 

“Okay.” 

He slid his head into the crook of her neck. Her arms hung loosely over his back and he wormed his around her waist, between her and the headboard. His eyes closed. 

“I’m gonna go to have a shower,” she said, letting her head roll backwards. 

“Sure you are,” he said, not moving. “Off you go.”

“I mean it this time.”

“Uh-huh.”

They fell asleep together soon after. 

Next>>

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2099 🕷️

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by far the hottest Jason Todd to ever exist, in nick robles we trust

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I’m just imagining telepaths trying to read any of the Bats’ minds and being like, AHA, we’ll go for Nightwing, he seems like the nice one, this’ll be easy, a total cakewalk–oh, fuck, WHO TURNED OUT THE LIGHTS IN THIS DUDE’S MIND, WHY ARE THERE BATS SCREECHING IN THE BACKGROUND, WHY DO I FEEL LIKE A SUPERSPY IS ABOUT TO STAB ME IN THE NECK WITH A PARING KNIFE!? All while Dick Grayson is just like :D :D :D right at your face and you legitimately can’t tell if he’s not even trying to be dangerous, he’s just Like That, or if he’s actively deceiving you and YOU DON’T KNOW WHICH WOULD BE WORSE. Never forget Dick Grayson is a Bat, no matter how nice he is, THAT MAN IS A BAT AND HE WILL STAB YOU IN THE KIDNEY IF HE THINKS HE NEEDS TO.

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"he's just some guy" yes but he has excellent tits

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"he's just some guy" yes but he has excellent tits

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messy boy