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#their entire presence is quite strange
decisiontostay · 16 days
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please tell me I'm not the only one unsettled by the fact that Jinki's new company's email is using a gmail.com domain? The entire instagram profile looks so shady too, there's no website, no proper company info, nothing. Like I want to believe it's legit and he just set up his own tiny label but it's not really that convincing, is it?
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undiscovered-horizon · 5 months
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[To be loved is to be changed. And while being married to you has changed Mihawk, it's not entirely for the better. He's a possessive and protective lover to the marrow of his bones.]
(TW for unwanted sexual comments)
Mihawk knew the name 'Shantaro' quite well. Any time you told him a story from your adolescence that revolved around borderline illegal, unethical or simply reckless adventures, Shantaro was there. The little devil on your shoulder but as reliable as a true angel.
He, however, never expected you to run into Shantaro on the odd night when the two of you can go out. Comfortably basking in your presence, Mihawk is thoroughly enjoying your undivided attention.
Until.
You're suddenly rendered speechless as you notice something - someone - over his shoulder. A wide smile spreads across your face. Mihawk is unsure whether he should rejoice with how beautiful you look or seethe, knowing that another person dared to distract you from him.
"It's Shantaro!" you squeal excitedly. "I'm sorry, love, I'll be just a moment. I haven't seen her in ages!"
Mihawk doesn't even try to stop you as you make your way through the crowd at the lounge. His watchful gaze follows your steps as you approach a stringy woman in a silver dress. A hurricane of black curls sits on top of her head. Her piercing, grey eyes notice you, suddenly widening with both surprise and happiness. The two of you engulf each other in a bone-crushing hug, silently exchanging feelings of longing towards the closest friend from younger years.
The swordsman's night, however, is about to get even worse as he hears someone behind him whisper:
"She's a minx, that foxy wife of yours."
He turns around with his jaw and fists clenched. Mihawk's enraged gaze meets the face of an amused man who is casually sipping on his drink. There's a glint in the stranger's eyes that makes the swordsman's skin crawl - he wanted to get under Dracule's skin.
"Don't look so surprised," the stranger reprimands him. The man must have mistaken Mihawk's baffled expression at the bold words for genuine surprise that someone put two and two together. Truthfully, he couldn't care less whether people know that he's married. "Many pirates get hard fantasising about having their way with the Warlord's wife." Judging by the way the man licks his lips and hides a certain hunger behind his eyes, it's clear he's part of the aforementioned group. "But the Warlord himself? Unfortunately for him, she turns him soft," he drones the word as though it's a serious insult.
"Yes, she does," Mihawk answers slowly.
The events that followed happened exceptionally fast: Mihawk reached for the stranger's neck and slammed the man's head against the bar counter. Curiously, people happening to be in their vicinity carry on as though nothing bizarre is happening - they are smart enough not to get in Dracule Mihawk's way, especially when he is visibly upset.
Blood is gushing from the strange man's forehead, his eye already beginning to swell and change colour. The swordsman tilted his victim's head back just enough to lean down and growl. "Which is why I'm going to kill you much faster than you deserve for your offence."
Mihawk glances in your direction. You're still occupied, excitedly telling Shantaro about the years after you've last met her.
He'll be done before you notice him gone.
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yaksha-lover · 10 months
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Summary: After the events of ghost bride, Vil and Leona decide to continue their competition to determine who is the best suitor. They decide you, being new to the school, are the best option to try and romance.
Multi x GN Reader (Leona, Vil, Ace, Deuce, Floyd, Rook, Azul, Malleus)
Part 2
“Yeah, whatever, you failed too. Doesn’t mean a thing. Any sane person would’ve chosen me over you,” Leona snarks.
“Prove it, then. Let’s choose someone else and we’ll be able to determine who the real winner is,” Vil replies, not bothering to look up from the compact he’s using to apply his makeup.
Leona’s ears perk a little at the idea, but he turns his nose up at it anyway. “Like who? Everyone at this school’s already stepping over each other to get a picture with you. Not exactly a fair competition, blondie.”
“Our dear prefect hasn’t been at the school long, and they’ve never known me as a celebrity since they’re from another world. It seems they would be the fairest way to continue our little competition,” Vil pauses, looking back over at Leona. “If that’s okay with you, your majesty.”
Leona rolls his eyes. “Old bride clearly had no taste. At least the prefect won’t have all these delusional biases about their ‘prince,’” he grumbles. “Fine, they’ll do.”
“Alright, then whoever can get them to accept an invitation to the upcoming semi-formal will be the winner.”
“Deal. Try not to feel too hurt by their rejection, it’s not as though you can compete with a real prince like myself.”
“I’m not worried, you hardly qualify as a prince, lazy second-son that you are. Unless you’re planning to actually try for once? Could it be you have another motivation for wooing the prefect?”
“As if I would go for a pathetic little herbivore like them. I’m in this to prove a point to you, that’s all,” Leona huffs. “You’re the one who suggested them. Projecting, are we?”
Vil smirks at his denial. “My, my, quite the tsundere little kitty you are. I have no reason to deny, I have become quite fond of them recently. Enough to stop you from becoming a perpetual nuisance in their life, at least.”
-
The next day, you sit at your usual lunch table with Ace, Deuce, and Grim, when a certain grumpy lion approaches you.
“Herbivores,” Leona says, narrowing his eyes at the sight of Grim devouring an entire leg of chicken. He turns his gaze to you. “Get up, prefect, I need to talk to you.”
“Kinda busy,” you mumble, mouth full of food.
“Why, hello prefect,” Vil greets, walking over from his table where Rook and Epel watch on. “Ah, let me get that for you.” He pulls a handkerchief from his pocket, gently tilting your face when you look up at him and dabbing at the corner of your mouth. “Now you look perfect.” Vil looks up at Leona, saccharine smile ablaze. “Was this man bothering you?”
You ignore his strange behaviour and decide to just continue eating.
Leona glares at him, spotting the rose in Vil’s hand. “Aren’t you about to do the same thing, Schoenheit?”
Vil scoffs, glimpsing the small jewelry box Leona is subtly holding behind his back. “Hardly. I was simply checking in on my dear friend, who seemed distressed by your presence.”
Between Grim looking over at your food every two seconds and the bickering going on above your head, you decide to give in and let him have the rest of yours. “…I think I’m just going to leave.”
The two housewardens are too busy bickering to notice you making your escape, leaving them with the rest of your table.
“I never knew you felt so threatened by me. You really had to resort to sabotaging my attempts?”
“I was not! You just happened to be in the way of my own plans,” Vil dismisses.
Ace finally looks up from his lunch to address the situation. “What’s up with you, housewardens? Why are you hovering around the prefect like that?”
“Stick your nose out of this, freshman. It’s none of your business.”
Vil sighs. “If you must know, I wish to ask the prefect to attend the semi-formal as my date. I came to ask them.”
Ace looks back in forth in surprise between Vil and Leona. “You too, Leona? Huh, never figured you’d be interested in anyone but yourself.”
“Don’t lump me in with him. This is just a competition for me. Neither of us won when trying to charm the ghost, so now I’m going to take my victory over him.”
Ace relaxes a little at his words, turning to the other housewarden. “You’re doing this for a competition, Vil? I know Leona is shameless, but surely you’d never stoop to his level?”
“It’s not just for the competition. I do like the prefect, but now I have the chance to take them to the dance and to show Leona how much more charming I am than him.”
“I mean, I hate to rain on your guys parade but I think it’s a lost cause. The prefect definitely likes me. We’re best friends after all, so they’d probably choose me if I asked.” Ace says nonchalantly, earning him a glare from Deuce. “Not that I’m interested in them! Obviously, I don’t care. But, uh, if it’s a competition, of course I have to win.”
Deuce rolls his eyes: “You’re such an idiot. And wrong. I’m their best friend.”
“And where do you think you’re going?” Vil asks Leona when he starts to walk away.
“To nap. It’s exhausting dealing with you children. Try not to get in my way, next time,” Leona replies, not bothering to turn around as he saunters away.
-
The next time you’re approached by the housewardens is in the hallway after class. You jump in surprise when a hand reaches around your waist to pull you into an empty classroom. The long brown hair that tickles your face gives you a pretty good idea of who the culprit is.
“Prefect,” Leona greets casually , as if he didn’t just basically kidnap you with no explanation.
“What are you doing? Will you let go of me, please,” you sigh.
Leona loosens his grip and turns you around in his arms to face him. He brushes a hand over your cheek, tucking a stray piece of hair out of your face. “Are you sure that’s what you want?” he says, voice softer than you’ve ever heard it. He’s so close his breath brushes over your neck.” “For me to let go of you?”
“Leona?! I-”
Your response is interrupted by the sound of a bell and the noise of chatting students approaching the classroom you currently occupy. You and Leona fling apart, but there isn’t enough time for you to calm your flustered face before Floyd, just entering the room, is able to see it.
“Shrimpy! What are you doing in here with sea lion?” Floyd takes in your embarrassed expression. “You haven’t been doing anything naughty, have you? And without me?”
“Nothing happened, eel. Let’s go, prefect.”
“Now you’re trying to take shrimpy away after hogging them all to yourself?”
“Sorry, Floyd,” you appease, not wanting to get into another ridiculous situation, “but he’s right. I have a class to get to.”
“Class is boring. I’d much rather be playing with you, but suit yourself. I’ll just have to squeeze you sometime later!”
Leona trails behind you as you walk to your next class, demanding an explanation from him.
“So why did you try and seduce me?”
“Seduce? You’re so perverted. Have you forgotten I’m a prince? I was only trying to-”
His reasoning is interrupted by Crewel’s glare as you silently head into class and take your spot beside Ace, leaving Leona to get a talking to for making you late.
-
“Leona and Vil have both been acting so weird lately, and I don’t know why.”
You miss the side-eye Ace and Deuce give each other as they ‘uh huh’ your venting.
“So,” Ace says, leaning towards you a bit, “Have you heard of the upcoming dance?” He winces when Deuce kicks him from under the table. “It’s kinda stupid, but if you wanted to go-”
“Trappola! Quiet or you’ll have extra work to do after class.”
Crewel seemed to be saving you a lot today.
-
Later, you notice Vil ahead of you, walking by himself through the halls. He drops something on the ground, but walks away before you can call out to him. Picking up his dropped handkerchief, you rush after him, finding yourself in yet another dim, empty classroom.
“Vil?” you call. He turns around, and you hold his lost item out to him. “You dropped this.”
His eyes light up and he smiles when he sees what you’ve brought. “Oh! Thank you so much, dear.” He approaches you, suddenly dropping a kiss on your cheek, making your face heat up. He winks. “Just a little reward for your endless kindness.”
“Uh, it was nothing, really.”
“Nonsense!” Vil leans against the wall, filling your view. “In fact, let me repay you. Do you have some time now?”
Before you can respond, someone flickers the lights on, the brightness now revealing the room was less empty than you assumed. The sound of a violin fills your ears as you spot Rook in the corner of the room, playing beautifully. Epel stands in front of a small table, set with two plates and a vase of roses in the middle. He blushes a little when you spot him, giving you a gentle wave. Both of them wear suits. Epel approaches Vil to remove his school overcoat to put on a more traditional suit jacket.
Still lost in confusion, you let Vil guide you to your seat at the table. He sits down across from you, taking your hands into his. Epel brings out a slice of chocolate cake, setting it between you, before going to sit near Rook.
“Ah, I hope you don’t mind sharing, dear.” He winks again. “You know, I really would like to repay you for your act of kindness.”
“Did you just- have this all set up? In case you dropped something…? It’s really nothing, it took me literally two seconds to return.”
“So humble, it’s one of your many fantastic qualities. I am serious about treating you, though. You know the upcoming dance?” You nod, not liking where this is going. “How about I accompany-”
Before he can finish, the door flies open and Leona struts in. He, seemingly, is not fazed by this set up in the middle of an empty classroom.
He ignores Vil and the others completely, turning to you. “Prefect, we never finished our conversation from earlier,” he grumbles.
“You’re right. Sorry, Vil, but it would be rude to keep him waiting. I better just-”
“Please, I have something important to ask you. Just one moment of you time is all I ask.” Vil places him arm on your shoulder.
“They already made up their mind, Schoenheit. Back off, they wanna come with me.” Leona grabs hold of your hand, trying to tug you out of Vil’s grasp.
Vil does not give in, taking hold of your other hand. “Putting words into their mouth, Kingscholar? They were about to choose me.”
Stuck between the two of them, locked in a glaring contest, you try to pull your arms from both of them.
“Merveilleux!” Rook stops playing his violin, approaching the group of you. “To have two beautiful men trying to make you swoon, c’est le paradis!Would you like me to become a contender for your heart as well?” Rook sweeps his arms around you gently, before Leona pushes him off.
“Fuck off, I don’t need another one of you pomefiore brats swarming around them.”
Rook turns back to you. “He’s quite possessive, are you into that type of man, I wonder? I can be that type too~”
“I’ve gotta go,” you say, taking this chance to run out of the class.
-
You’re asked to sit in on a meeting with the teachers and housewardens, which Vil and Leona decide to use as their last opportunity to win once most of the others have left. Only you, Leona, Vil, and Azul remain, still packing up your things.
“Prefect? I apologize to bother you again, but if I could, I’d still love to ask you-”
Vil is, once again, interrupted before he can finish.
“Prefect,” Leona says, touching your cheek. You turn to face him just in time for him to pull out a jewelry box from his pocket, popping it open in front of you. “I-”
“What the hell? Are you actually proposing to me?!”
“What are you on about?” It’s only then that Leona seems to realize your confusion. “A ring, Ruggie?? I said get something nice, not a ring!”
Ruggie strolls in from around the corner, shrugging. “I’ve never even seen jewelry this expensive before. How would I know what you wanted me to get? I’ll take it if they don’t want it.” He pauses, suddenly remembering something. “Also, did you still want me to bring in the flowers? There’s four hundred roses just sitting in the other room.”
You turn back to Leona incredulously. “Why did you send Ruggie to- Forget it, why have you guys been acting so strange?”
“Leona and Vil made a bet on who could get you to agree to go as their date to the semi-formal. It seems their small, fragile egos were quite bruised from their rejection by the ghost bride,” Azul interjects, finally looking up from his book at the corner of the table.
Vil stares at him. “You truly have no loyalty nor shame.”
“Says you,” you quip.
“Yes, it’s quite pitiful. I heard rumours and used my resources to discover the truth. I thought you deserved to know, prefect.” Azul stands from his chair, approaching where you’re sitting to place a hand on your shoulder. “Now, if you still wanted to attend the event with someone who wasn’t planning on manipulating you into it, I would be happy to offer my services.”
Your narrowed eyes prompts Azul’s swift apology.
“Ah, I see now was not the correct time. I shall make my exit.” He leaves the room along with Ruggie, leaving you three alone.
“What is wrong with both of you? You didn’t learn your lesson with Eliza? It’s messed up to play with a person’s feelings like this, I’m not your little prop.”
“Prefect-” Vil starts, cutting himself off at the look you give him.
You give them each one last glare before walking out the door, barely hiding your laughter.
-
“You’re quite the actor, my dear,” Malleus says, slipping your hand into his own as the two of you walk towards Ramshackle.
“I know,” you laugh, “Did you see their faces? I think that’s the first time in his life Leona’s ever looked guilty. His tail was definitely between his legs.”
“Yes, it was rather unbecoming of him,” Malleus chuckles, before stopping his stride. “Although, you could have simply let them know you already belong to another.”
“True, but it shouldn’t really matter. It’s not as though they’re actually interested. They clearly just think of me as some kind of prize to win in an ego competition. Plus, it’ll certainly make a scene when we walk in to the dance together, won’t it?”
Malleus sighs, pulling you into his arms to drop a kiss on your head, before continuing to walk you home. “You are far too naive, my love. Not to worry, you have me to protect you from those beasts.”
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fvsm4x · 4 months
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☆FIRST LOVE [Gojo Satoru]
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☆ SUMMARY: Months have passed since you slept with Gojo. And during that time, gojo seemed to avoid you, hurting your feelings in exchange without knowing.
— C.W: Gojo Satoru x female reader , angst to fluff
— WORD COUNT: 2k+
— TAGLIST: @starlightanyaaa @froufrousnowman @101strawberries101 @dazaisfavgf @the-lazy-perfectionist @prettyfacedream
JJK MLIST | GOJO SATORU MLIST
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It has been a considerable amount of time since the last interaction you had with Gojo. Days turned into weeks, and then a whole month passed by. And now, two months have gone by since that unforgettable night when the two of you shared an intimate connection after getting a little too tipsy in a bar.
However, ever since that night, something changed. Gojo started to distance himself from you, avoiding any kind of interaction and making a conscious effort to stay out of your way. It's as if he's intentionally ignoring your presence, and any attempts to reach out to him through calls or texts are met with silence, with the messages sitting in the "delivered" status but never being read.
The pain in your heart is almost unbearable. You find yourself constantly questioning what went wrong, racking your brain for any possible misstep or disappointment that could have caused this sudden shift in Gojo's behavior. The thought that the night you shared was a mistake weighs heavily on your mind, causing immense emotional distress and self-doubt.
What makes this pain even more agonizing is the fact that you have harbored deep feelings for Gojo since your teenage years. From the moment you first laid eyes on him, there was an undeniable attraction and admiration that only grew stronger with time. The realization that he may not feel the same way about you is a devastating blow to your heart and soul.
But you find it difficult to place the blame solely on Gojo. After all, he is not just an ordinary person. In the world of jujutsu sorcerers, he holds immense importance and influence. He is widely recognized as the strongest sorcerer, possessing unparalleled strength and abilities. Not only that, but he has been blessed with not just one, but two curse techniques, making him a force to be reckoned with. His very existence has the power to shift the delicate balance of the world.
In contrast, you see yourself as someone insignificant in comparison. While you do possess the ability to see curses, just like Gojo, you feel like a mere observer in the grand tapestry of the jujutsu world. You don't hold any significant position or power, and you struggle to find a sense of usefulness or importance in comparison to someone like Gojo.
But little did you know, gojo had a reason for doing so.
Ever since that night you two shared, gojo started to harbor feelings, he had never felt before, it felt weird. As if butterflies were flying around in his stomach and his heart always skipping a beat when he sees you.
The mere thought of you brought a deep blush to his cheeks, and he couldn't help but feel a mixture of excitement and nervousness whenever he was in your presence. It was as if his entire world had been turned upside down, and he couldn't quite comprehend the intensity of these newfound emotions.
He had never experienced this kind of feeling before, and he couldn't quite put his finger on what it was. It was a strange sensation that consumed him, making him feel like he was on the verge of death if he didn't see you. Thinking he might be sick, he sought out Shoko and poured out his troubles to her.
Sitting in front of Shoko, who calmly sipped her warm coffee, he couldn't contain his panic any longer. "Shoko, I think something's wrong with me. I feel like I'm dying!" he exclaimed, jumping up from his chair and pacing back and forth in the room.
"The mighty Gojo Satoru is sick? That's a first," she joked, a soft chuckle escaping her lips. It was rare to see the strongest sorcerer in such a state of distress.
"I'm serious, Shoko! Every time I see her, I feel strange... My face turns red, my stomach does somersaults, and my heart skips a beat!" he whined, desperation evident in his voice. "Am I going to die, Shoko?"
Shoko looked at him with wide eyes, taking a moment to process his words before asking, "Do you mean y/n?"
Gojo nodded, his expression filled with worry. "Yeah..."
Setting her coffee down on a nearby table, Shoko turned to Gojo with a mischievous smirk. "Oh no! You‘re going to die satoru." she sarcastically exclaimed.
Gojo's eyes dropped immediately as his panic intensified. "What? But I can't die yet... I'm still young."
Narrowing her eyes at him, Shoko chuckled softly. Gojo approached her, placing his hands on either side of her, trapping her against the chair. "Why are you laughing?!" he shouted, his grip on the chair tightening.
"Do you want to know the name of your sickness, Satoru?" Shoko asked, leaning against her palm.
"Of course!" he replied eagerly.
"You're lovesick," she stated matter-of-factly.
Gojo's eyes widened at her words. Lovesick? Did that mean he was in love with you? The mere thought of it caused his face to flush a deep shade of red. "W-what!? No, I'm not in love with her," he denied, his voice wavering.
"Look at you, all embarrassed... I can't believe the all-mighty Gojo Satoru has finally fallen in love," Shoko sighed. "I feel bad for y/n."
"What am I supposed to do?! I've never been in love before," Gojo whined, his distress evident.
"Well, talk to her more often, take her out on dates... I don't know much about love, I've never experienced it myself, who knows maybe she‘s feeling the same." Shoko suggested.
"But... I've been ignoring her for the past two months," Gojo confessed.
"Oh," Shoko facepalmed. "Why are you so stupid.“
„I‘m not stupid!“
Suddenly, the door swung open, and you entered the room, clutching some medical papers in your arms. "Shoko, I got the-" you began, but your words trailed off as you looked up and took in the scene before you.
Your heart momentarily stopped as you saw Shoko sitting in the chair, with Gojo leaning over her, his hands on either side of the chair, effectively trapping her inside. A wave of unease washed over you. Had you interrupted something? They were too close for your comfort, and you couldn't help but wonder if there was something going on between them. Was that why Gojo had been ignoring you?
The pain in your heart was palpable, and your once bright smile faded into a crestfallen expression. With a heavy sigh, you cast your gaze downward, unable to bear the sight before you any longer. "Sorry for interrupting," you managed to utter, your voice laced with disappointment and a hint of resignation. "I'll bring the papers back later." Without waiting for a response, you turned on your heels, your footsteps heavy with a mix of sadness and frustration, and closed the door with a loud thud.
"Wait!" you heard a voice call out from behind the door, but you continued walking away, unable to bear the sight of them together. The sound of their voices faded as you distanced yourself from the room.
Meanwhile, inside the room, Gojo removed himself from the chair and took a step back, his gaze fixed on the closed door where you had stood just moments ago. His thoughts were interrupted by a voice, breaking through his contemplation.
"Don't drag me into this," Shoko's voice cut through the silence, her eyes boring into Gojo's. He met her gaze with a glare, unsure of how to respond.
"She probably misunderstood. Go talk to her before it's too late," Shoko advised, her tone firm. "Now, whoosh," she added, pointing her finger towards the door. "Get out."
—-
Over the next few days, something strange happened. Instead of Gojo avoiding you, you found yourself avoiding him. Even though Shoko had encouraged him to talk to you, he still kept his distance. Deep down, Gojo knew he was in love with you, but he didn't know how to act around you.
He was scared of doing something wrong and embarrassing himself. He couldn't quite grasp the fact that he was in love with you. He thought it was just a small crush that would eventually fade away, but it didn't. Every day, he felt more desperate to talk to you, but he couldn't bring himself to approach you.
Then, one day, you bumped into him while he was on his way to a mission. You couldn't take it anymore. Your heart hurt every time you wanted to talk to him but held back. The constant avoidance had taken a toll on you, and the pain of unspoken affection had become unbearable. You couldn't bear the uncertainty anymore and wanted to confess your feelings to Gojo, even if it meant facing rejection. You just wanted closure, hoping that even if he didn't feel the same way, you could move on from this torment.
So, there you were, standing behind Gojo as he walked towards the car that would take him on his mission. He was avoiding you again, but this time, you decided to take a leap of faith. You called out to him, "Satoru!" He flinched and turned to meet your gaze.
"Satoru," you spoke with a shaky breath, "You know, back in our teenage years, I had this crush on you. Silly, right? I mean, I never thought it would lead anywhere. We were friends, and I kept my feelings under wraps. Fast forward to that night we spent together – it felt like a breakthrough. I let myself hope that maybe, just maybe, there was something more between us. But then you started avoiding me like I had the plague, and it hit hard. But, you know, I tried to brush off the awkwardness, thinking maybe I misread things. Yet, every time we crossed paths, it felt like there was this unspoken tension, a lingering question that neither of us dared to ask. I couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted, and it was driving me crazy. So, here's the deal, Satoru – If you don't see us as more than friends, I want you to say it. I'm not asking for poetic rejection; I just need the truth. So, Satoru, whether it's a yes or a no, I just need to hear it. I'm not looking for pity or grand gestures, just a straightforward answer.“
Your breath hitched with each word. Your gaze, usually steady, faltered, found solace in staring at the ground, avoiding the intensity of his eyes.
Gojo's eyes widened in surprise as your words hit him. He turned around completely, staring at you in disbelief. His breath hitched, and he felt his heart racing unexpectedly. Your confession catched him off guard,
In an instant, Gojo's initial disbelief transformed into a genuine smile, a glimmer of happiness breaking through. Without a second thought, he closed the distance, wrapping you in a tight embrace. Your attempt to speak was interrupted by his sudden hug,
"I've been an idiot for avoiding this for so long." He whispered
You tried to gently push him back, insisting, "I just need an answer, satoru" but Gojo held on,
"That scene you saw with Shoko wasn't what it seemed," he admitted, a sheepish smile forming. "I was actually talking to her about my feelings for you. I realized I've been an idiot for not realizing it sooner." He continued, "After that night we spent together, I started feeling all weird – butterflies and my heart doing somersaults. I thought I was sick or something, so I avoided you. Stupid, right? But now, I don't want to run away from it anymore. I like you, Y/N."
Your eyes widened at Gojo's unexpected confession. The weight of the unspoken feelings suddenly lifted, "Wait, you... like me?" you stammered, trying to process his words. Gojo chuckled, his hand rubbing the back of his neck
"Yeah, more than I thought. I was just too dense to realize it. And I'm sorry for avoiding you; I thought I was going crazy with those feelings."
Gojo, still smiling, took a step closer. "So, how about we stop avoiding and start enjoying these feelings?" he suggested, his gaze softening. Without waiting for a response, he leaned in, capturing your lips in a gentle, yet lingering kiss.
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woso-dreamzzz · 2 months
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Big Bed
Hardersson x Child!Reader
Part of The Big Adventures Universe
Summary: Magda vs Big Bed
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You appear like a phantom in the night.
Magda shifts in bed a little bit. It's strange to have someone in bed with her even if it is someone as lovely as Pernille. It's been two days since you both moved in and it's still a surprise (a welcome one, of course) when Magda rolls over to find a body lying next to her.
It's a surprise but it is to be expected.
What isn't to be expected is the presence standing by the side of the bed.
Magda jolts, letting out a shocked squeak (a sound that she will never admit to making) before her eyes adjust to the low light. You're just standing there, staring.
You've got girl-swan in one hand and girl-moose in the other. You stand by the bed. You don't move. You don't say anything. You just stand there and stare.
Magda rubs her eyes to check she's not hallucinating.
(She's not).
"Princesse?" She says, still groggy and confused," What's wrong?"
You peer closer at her like you've just realised that she's not who you're looking for. There's barely any light so that could be the case as you wander to the other side of the bed and poke Pernille in the back.
Magda doesn't even think Pernille's fully awake as she rolls onto her back and lifts you up and under the covers. You yawn and wriggle to get comfortable before you rest your head on Pernille's chest and immediately go to sleep.
Magda doesn't get a wink after that.
She stays awake for the entire rest of the night, lying on her back and staring at the way you've just so easily invaded her bed.
"Hmm," Pernille murmurs," Good morning."
"She's in the bed," Magda whispers, hyperaware of the fact that you're still asleep.
"Yes?" Pernille looks confused, her fingers gently combing through your hair.
"She can't sleep in our bed! She'll become codependent!"
"Oh, Magda," Pernille says," She's little. Sleeping in the big bed won't kill her."
"It's our bed!" Magda insists," She has her own bed! She can't just come in whenever she likes! You didn't see her, she walked in like she owned the place!"
"She's adjusting," Pernille replies," She slept with me all the time at Wolfsburg."
Magda sighs. "This is like that dummy all over again."
Pernille chuckles, leaning over you to kiss Magda. "She's only little. Let her have this."
At first, Magda thought that it was something you would only do every so often. Maybe a few times a month. She could deal with that but, after catching you sneaking in for the fourth night in a row, Magda puts her foot down.
"No," She says firmly, getting out of bed and picking you up.
You frown. "Why?"
"Because you're a big girl and big girl's sleep in their own beds."
Morsa's saying a lot of English at you and that's a bit annoying. All you can really tell is that she's not letting you sleep with her and Momma.
You swing your legs a little and huff. You reach out for the doorframe but don't manage to quite latch onto it and Morsa walks you straight back into your room.
"Want!" You say in your limited English but Morsa just tucks you up nice in bed.
She checks the batteries of your nightlight before making sure you have both girl-swan and girl-moose. "Stay," She says," This is your bedroom and your bed."
You stubbornly glare at her as she exits the room, shutting the door behind her.
You wait a few seconds before getting out of bed again. You open your door. You decide that you're not going to stand at Morsa's side of the bed if she's going to treat you like this.
Momma will let you into the Big Bed if you want.
"No, princesse."
Morsa was waiting by your door. She picks you up again and doesn't let you go no matter how much you try to wriggle away.
You pout at her.
"Want!"
"I know," Morsa says with a little chuckle," Trust me, I know. But that's Momma and Morsa's bed. It's not your bed. This is your bed."
"Your bed!"
"No, this is Princesse's bed. This is where you sleep because you're Princesse."
She tucks you in again, pulling the sheets all the way up to your chin as she kisses you.
You don't want her kisses. You want her Big Bed.
"Stay here," Morsa says firmly," Because this is your bed and you need to sleep."
You whine. "Your bed!"
"No. How about this? I'll sit with you until you fall asleep? Would you like that?"
You shake your head. "Your bed!"
"It's this or nothing," Morsa warns you and you finally give in.
"You!"
"Okay," Morsa says. She sits next to you in bed and gently runs her hand through your hair, drawing little patterns at the base of your head.
It's soft and reassuring and you drift off quite quickly no matter how much you want to fight for the Big Bed.
Magda smiles when you finally go limp and gently moves out from next to you, laying you down properly on your pillows.
She feels proud of herself as she slips out of your room. She waits by the door to listen in for the pitter-patter of your little feet but they never come.
That was much easier than weaning you off your dummy.
(If only she knew how badly this would come around to bite her on the butt).
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starchaserwrites · 2 months
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@jegulus-microfic / february 27: change / word count: 434
James doesn't particularly believe in coincidences, but when at 15, during the week his parents gave him a loose fitting bright red t-shirt with a Lightning McQueen print, he gets the top mark in an exam he didn't study for, found money he didn't remember he had in one of his jackets and won tickets to a Green Day concert, that's when his lucky t-shirt was born.
Since then, he uses it whenever the situation calls for it. Exams, new tricks with his skateboard, parties, amusement parks, and lots of other things. He even used it the day he helped his best friend to run away from his house to live with him. So it becomes common knowledge how important the tee is to James.
Four years later, during the warmest summer in recent memory, James is wearing the t-shirt that has faded slightly with the passage of time and no longer fits as loosely as it once did, when there is a knock on the door of the flat he shares with Sirius. Silver eyes and dark curls flood his vision and electrify his entire body.
A month later, the morning after Regulus' birthday party, who is trying to make up for the lost time with his brother, James overhears that in a couple of days he will be auditioning for a part in a film. His relationship with Regulus is... complicated, James tries his best to get him to like him, but the younger boy always seems to be displeased by his presence. Considering this, James doesn't know what possesses him when instead of changing into his lucky tee he decides to sneak it into the bag he knows belongs to Regulus. He barely passes his driving test that day but he is strangely happy. 
James never mentions the t-shirt again but Regulus wears it under his jacket when he gets the part for his first important film. 
He also wears it a week later when he asks a very surprised James out on a date.
He uses it again on the day they kiss for the first time. 
Once again when Sirius tells him he loves him in the middle of a game of chess.
One more time when he spends his first night together with his boyfriend.
Then again every time he wins a new award (which is quite often).
And again under his suit at his wedding with James.
James realised that he doesn't need to be the one wearing the t-shirt to be the luckiest man in the world.
Regulus has never and probably never will watch Cars. 
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happy74827 · 5 months
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Bittersweet Blunders
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[Mike Schmidt x Female!Reader]
Synopsis: In what was supposed to be the "perfect date" turns into an absolute dumpster fire of a night. Fortunately for Mike, you couldn't care at all about it.
WC: 4295
Category: Mega Fluff
So it seems that a lot of people like my Mike fics (yay), so I wrote another one because why not. At this point, my entire masterlist will just consist of this man, and I'm 100% here for it. Also, I don't know why fluff is the hardest for me to write, but this is my attempt at a full-on cuteness overload without a drop of angst (I apparently live for the drama), so we'll see how this goes.
『••✎••』
You were a very bubbly, cheerful person. You always thought that it was one of the best qualities that someone could have, and while it wasn't always the case, it always helped you in the past to brighten up anyone's day, as well as the other way around. You were always the life of the party, and you'd always make sure that everyone had a great time whenever you were with them.
It was probably one of the reasons Mike had liked you so much, though it had taken him quite some time to admit it to himself. He didn't want to believe it at first; after all, Mike was usually the guy who kept his feelings in, but as time went on, he couldn't keep denying the fact that he liked your presence and always wanted to be around you.
For him, you were a ray of sunshine in his otherwise very dull life. Sure, Abby had been a joy, and still is, but you... you were just special in a way that Mike couldn't explain. You had a certain quality about you that he couldn't describe, and he's never been able to figure out what it is that made you stand out so much to him. You were the complete opposite of him. His black clothes, your bright smile. His gloominess, your cheerfulness. His silence, your bubbly voice. His abrasive demeanor, your kind words.
Even though you were completely opposite of him in personality, there was one thing that you both shared in common. You were both attracted to each other in a way that you couldn't explain, even to yourself. But it was a feeling that you were sure of, and the fact that you're finally together made you realize why.
When he had started dating you, it had been like the clouds parted for him. The sky cleared up, and everything felt right again. He felt like his life was finally stitching itself back together, and suddenly, he and Abby were a lot closer, too. It was almost like a weight was lifted off of his chest, and he was finally able to breathe again.
Your relationship was very new to him, as you were the first relationship he'd ever had. But now that you were with him, he wouldn't have it any other way. You were just... you. You made him happy in a way that no one else had, and he was determined to make sure that you felt the same way.
Of course, you felt the same way.
For you, Mike was your best friend. He had been the one person who'd been able to make you smile in your worst moments. He was always there when you needed him, and you'd always made sure to do the same thing for him. He was your ray of sunshine despite him not acting much like one. You loved the little things that made him tick, like his strange fascination with coffee and the fact that he always had a blanket in the car with him, just in case he was tired or cold. It made him feel like home to you.
And it was exactly how Mike felt with you, too, obviously for different reasons, of course, but all the same. He loved every single thing about you, no matter what. Your personality, your voice, even the way you walk, he loved every single bit of it. The first time you two had kissed, it was almost as though fireworks were going off all around you both, and Mike could've sworn he heard angels sing as well.
You were a ray of sunshine to him, and now that you were in his life, he couldn't see himself without you. He loved you more than he could say, and he was determined to show that to you, always.
That's why he decided he would take the day off of work to plan out the perfect date for you two. He didn't know exactly what you were into; you always seemed to be good with anything, but he knew he had to try and do something nice. After all, you were worth it. You were the most special person in his life, second to Abby, of course, but special just the same.
So he set off to find you a nice place to have dinner, a thing neither one of you had done since the start of the relationship. You had usually just eaten at his place or gone somewhere that served coffee (somewhere more in Mike's price range), but he wanted something a bit fancier; after all, today was special, and he saved up enough to make it happen. He wanted you to have a nice day out, just like you always did for him whenever he had a bad day.
He eventually found you a place, a fancy Italian restaurant that he thought you would like, and made reservations for a place with a nice view of the sunset, just so you could watch it with him. It was going to be a great night.
Of course, it had been the complete opposite of what Mike had thought it would be. Two hours before the planned evening, the person covering his job for him just had to cancel on him at the last minute, leaving him to panic. He hadn't told you the surprise for the evening at all, so he had to make several, several calls just to find a replacement for his job and then to find a babysitter for Abby. Max... Well, Max wasn't around much anymore, and since you were the usual babysitter for Abby, it took Mike a while to find someone who was available, and even when he did, it took nearly twenty minutes for them to show up.
But he got it fixed and done in good time. His car was a little bit messy, and his "nice" shirt might have been a little wrinkly for the occasion, but to see the smile on your face when you got to his car made it worth it.
"You're wearing a tie," you commented, your face full of surprise as you hopped inside
"What can I say? It was a spur-of-the-moment kind of thing," Mike replied, turning the ignition and starting the car. He looked back at you, the smile on your face making his heart flutter just as much as it had the first time he'd laid his eyes on you. "Did I, um... You look great."
You were wearing a very nice dress, something that Mike had always loved on you, and it fit you very well. It was a light pink color, with a flowy skirt and a short-sleeved top, but it complimented you so well that he wondered why he hadn't seen it on you before. It made you look stunning, in his opinion.
"Thanks," you replied. "You look pretty handsome yourself, Mikey."
Oh, how he loved that nickname. It was one of the few things that Mike loved hearing you call him, even if it was in a joking matter. It made him feel special when he heard it, like you were just so happy to be around him that it was just another way of saying so. He smiled as he pulled out of the driveway, the engine rumbling below his feet. "So, you hungry?"
"Oh, yeah," you said, "I could totally eat."
Mike smiled. "Good ‘cause I found us the most amazing Italian restaurant, and I think you'll love it,"
Mike was right, of course. You did love it. The atmosphere was perfect, and the scenery was divine, with the sun setting in the distance and the colors it created splashed across the sky. Mike had even thought ahead to get a table right next to the window to give you the perfect view. Unfortunately, the sight from the entrance was the only view you got to see.
When it got to the hostess, it turned out that they had accidentally given his reservation to a family with four kids, and you and Mike were now stuck in between a large family with several children and the bathroom. The food had already been ordered and delivered to your table, but you didn't even get a chance to start your meal before you heard the sounds of a crying baby. And when you looked up, you were faced with a crying child who seemed to be a year or so younger than Abby, sitting on the table in front of you.
You tried to ignore it at first, hoping that they would fall asleep and stop crying, but the baby didn't seem to be willing to stop any time soon, and it seemed you weren't the only one who was annoyed by it. You glanced over at Mike and you realized that he looked about one second away from punching the baby and throwing it across the restaurant.
You decided to take action before he could do that.
"How's... uh, work going?" You asked, trying to make conversation as you sat up a little bit straighter and began to wipe your fingers clean, preparing yourself for whatever came next.
Mike didn't answer, instead choosing to grunt.
You decided to try and lighten the mood just a little bit. "It can't be that bad. You're still alive."
Just as the words left your mouth, the baby started crying even louder. You looked over at the family that was sitting in front of you and noticed that none of them looked like they were planning to do anything about it. Great parenting
"That baby might not be," he grumbled, not even bothering to keep his voice down anymore. "Even Abby and her tantrums don't make me want to run into traffic, and they're on a whole other level,"
"A crying child is not going to make you run into traffic, Mike," you replied.
"It might," he argued. "I might."
You laughed, shaking your head at the man sitting in front of you. "Have you always been this dramatic?"
Mike was quiet for a moment before shrugging and letting out a sigh. His annoyance allowed you to take a look at his features for a moment, something you hadn't really done for a while. Usually, when you two hung out, he was always so busy that you didn't really get to notice the difference in expression and stance he would usually have, but now that you were finally able to look at him, you noticed a slight change in him. He looked... tired, you'd say. Tired, but at the same time, happier than he usually was. You couldn't exactly tell how he was feeling at the time, probably complete annoyance because of the crying baby, but he did look like he was smiling just a bit more than usual.
And you loved seeing it. You loved seeing him happy, even if it wasn't the happiest situation that you two could've been in. You still wanted to see his smile, and you couldn't help but smile yourself at how happy he looked when he was around you, even with all the surrounding annoyance.
"Do you remember," you began, "when we first started dating? You were so nervous, and you were scared that you were gonna mess it up, and I said to you that there was no way you could ever do that, right?"
"I mean, it's not like you were lying," he shrugged, leaning back against his chair, picking up a glass of water, and taking a small sip. "I was a mess."
"Well, you still are a mess, a hot one but still... you got over it, didn't you?" You smiled.
Mike paused for a moment, placing his glass down on the table again. He was silent before he glanced up at you. His eyes were wide, and he almost looked... stunned. He was definitely surprised.
"It's not rhetorical, Mikey, but I'm going to take that as a yes," you continued.
"That was... that was different," he said.
"Well, yeah, of course it was," you replied. "That was a few months ago. Now it's a crying baby who you believe is ruining your life,"
He rolled his eyes and sighed, clearly annoyed by the whole thing. You knew that he wasn't actually upset; however, if he were, you'd have felt him shift in his seat like he always did when he felt uncomfortable or uncomfortable. But he hadn't moved a single bit. He wasn't even fidgeting. He just sat there and kept staring at you.
Mike never said anything, though, and neither did you. You just kept staring at each other, even when the baby eventually stopped crying. For a moment, there was peace, a sort of silent bliss that you couldn't exactly explain, and then the peace was suddenly ruined again.
Mike had wanted a refill of his drink, and when the waiter returned with a pitcher and many other drinks from various tables, the serving plate somehow made its way down Mike's shirt and all over his clothes, the various liquids from water to alcohol all splattered on his clothes. And Mike? Mike didn't even flinch. He closed his eyes and sighed, gritting his teeth and tensing up a bit, and you saw that he was clenching the sides of his chair with his hands, but otherwise, he didn't make any other movements, no reaction at all. Then, to make matters worse, the baby started crying again.
Mike and you both stared at each other again, your eyes wide and your mouths slightly parted. You knew exactly how Mike was feeling, and you wanted nothing more than to do something about it, but you didn't know what to do.
"Mike, do you—" you began, feeling really bad for him.
"I need to... go to the bathroom," he interrupted you, and you nodded in response. He stood up from his seat, walked around you and the other family, and then headed towards the bathroom. You were left to sit in your seat, staring at the family in front of you as they ate and chatted amongst themselves. You didn't say anything, but you weren't exactly happy with what was happening, either.
You glanced over to the bathroom door, hoping that Mike would come out of there soon so you could ask him if he was okay, but you were unable to leave. The waiter came back a few minutes later with a towel to help Mike clean off the liquid from his clothes, and once he had it in hand, you found the strength to leave your seat and follow Mike into the bathroom.
You didn't step inside, however, instead choosing to lean against the wall by the entrance. The bathroom was a lot emptier than the restaurant was, and it seemed a lot quieter, too, the only sound that you could hear coming from the faucet by the sinks. You stared at the door for a moment, just a moment, before calling out to the man inside.
"Mike, are you okay in there?"
It took Mike a moment to respond to you. "Uh... Yeah. I'm fine."
"You don't sound fine," you replied.
"Well, I am," he replied. He sounded annoyed.
"You don't sound like it," you commented.
"Well, what do you want me to say?"
You paused for a moment, glancing around the room as you thought of a response. You decided to just tell him what was on your mind. "Do you want to leave? We can go."
You heard the bathroom door open, and Mike stepped out from it, standing in front of you, his eyes staring straight at your own. He was soaked despite all the paper towels he must've used to dry himself off. You handed him the small towel you'd been handed, and he took it from you with a small nod. He ran it through his shirt and thighs for a moment before looking at you.
"You sure?" He asked with a pinch of hesitation in his voice. He looked nervous. No, he didn't look nervous. He looked... guilty. His eyes were sad, and he seemed worried about something. He looked like he wanted to say something, but he couldn't find the right words.
You had a feeling what was going on in his mind, so you just took the lead for him. With a smile, you both returned to your seat momentarily to pay the bill and tip the waiter before making your way out to the parking lot. You climbed into the car, and Mike started the engine. He still had a very noticeable frown on his face as he turned to you.
"It looks like it's going to be a great night," he sighed, letting out a heavy sigh. His eyes shifted upwards to the clouds, and you noticed the very visible storm that was brewing in them. "Sorry. I guess I just... It didn't go the way I thought it would."
"It's still early," you replied, placing your hand over his. He looked back at you with wide eyes, clearly not expecting you to be as calm as you were. You smiled at him, squeezing his hand gently. "And I have the perfect idea of what we could do."
He raised a brow at you, his eyes suddenly looking curious. The frown was gone now and replaced with a small, barely visible smile. You had to resist the urge to hug him right then and there.
"Yeah? What is it?"
"You'll find out when we get there," you whispered and smiled, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek. "Just listen to my directions. I'll be your personal navigator."
Your navigator skills were definitely off the charts that night, and even you were surprised you didn't get lost. You made some accidental wrong turns and had to double back once or twice, but other than that, you were able to get you and Mike to your destination just fine. The night sky was still covered with clouds, and there was a very faint sound of thunder in the distance, but you figured you had at least a good hour or so.
The view, though. You couldn't have picked a better spot to have. There was a tree right next to a small, grassy hill that you sat at, the only place where Mike and you could be comfortable while you stared up at the sky. You had Mike's emergency blanket, and he had his hoodie (that might have smelt like utter hell, but he refused to wear anything else after the incident earlier that night), and the stars. It was like the clouds had separated just to show you the beauty of the night sky, and the two of you were lucky enough to witness it. The sun was long gone, and the moon was peeking out from behind the clouds, its bright glow casting a shimmering reflection onto the grass below. It was a moment that you'd never forget.
"How's the date going so far now?" You asked Mike with a smile as you sat next to him. "Think this is an improvement?"
Mike shrugged. "Maybe I should stop planning the dates, and let you plan them from now on."
You smiled at him. "I like it when you plan the dates, Mike."
He frowned for a moment, but the look on his face suggested otherwise. "Really? Because there had been not one good one in the past... I dunno, two years? Even when we were still trying to work out the friendship to the relationship thing."
You shrugged, moving closer to him. "What can I say? I like the surprises, and you never were that spontaneous on your own."
"Is that what you like about me?" He asked. "My non-spontaneity?"
You glanced up at him, smiling as you took in his features again. You loved looking at him. He was handsome. And you loved the look in his eyes. They were filled with adoration, and they were looking straight into yours. He leaned down a bit and pressed a kiss to your forehead.
"You have other qualities, too," you replied. “Good ones.”
"Like what?" He asked, his lips ghosting over your skin as he spoke.
"You make a great cup of coffee," you began, letting out a small giggle as he continued to kiss your forehead, moving slowly down towards your jaw. "And you're good at taking care of Abby. You can be funny if you try hard enough, and you're really cute when you smile."
Mike moved down towards your ear, gently nibbling on the lobe. His breath fanned over your skin, and you couldn't help but lean into him just a little. His hand slipped under your chin and gently pulled your head up, forcing your lips to meet with his in a soft kiss.
The first kiss was always special, in Mike's opinion. You were always so soft, so gentle, but also so firm, so loving. It was one of his favorite feelings, and he was so lucky to have you in his life, he couldn't believe it.
When you pulled away from the kiss, you didn't move too far away from him, resting your head against his shoulder instead. You closed your eyes and let out a sigh of contentment, and he leaned his head against yours, his hand resting gently on your knee as you both gazed at the moonlit sky.
"Mikey?" You asked after a moment, your voice soft and gentle as you spoke. You felt his head move in response, and you felt him take in a deep breath.
"Yeah?" He asked.
You looked up at him, smiling as you did. "I think this is our best one yet."
He didn't say anything for a moment. He stared down at you with his usual blank expression, but after a few seconds, the corners of his lips quirked up, and he was finally able to break out into a smile, one that was so much brighter than the one that he had earlier.
He kissed you again, and you couldn't help but melt into the kiss. Your hands went to his shoulders, and his hands wrapped themselves around your waist as he pulled you closer to him. You never wanted to leave his side.
You loss track of time from there. You both were lost in the moment, in the stars, in the blanket, in each other, and before either of you knew it, you felt the slight raindrops pelt against your skin, and the wind was growing stronger. Your hair whipped in front of your face, and smacked Mike in the cheek, but he didn't seem to care much, too caught up in kissing you.
You eventually pulled away, looking at the man in front of you. "We should... we should get going. You brought the umbrella, right?”
“Yeah, it’s right here," Mike nodded, grabbing it from the other end of the blanket and placing it above the two of you as the raindrops grew heavier. The thunder was louder now, but you and Mike were far too engrossed with each other to really notice it.
At least, not until tragedy struck when he went to pull up the blanket. One big strum of thunder and a burst of wind from above caused Mike to lose his grip on the umbrella, which went flying through the air and out of his grasp. You both watched it as it soared in the air, almost like you were in a daze, and then you realized the horrible thing that had happened.
The umbrella was gone. You and Mike were in the rain, and there was nothing around you to provide you any sort of protection from the downpour. The blanket was soaked within seconds, as were the two of you.
Well, technically, Mike already was.
Mike's smile had disappeared from his face when the umbrella had flown away, and now his frown had returned, only this time, it was quite humorous. He was absolutely dumbstruck, and he was just staring at the umbrella as it flew away into the night. You tried to hold back your laughter, but it was difficult, especially with the look on Mike's face.
“Great. Just great," he grumbled, grabbing your arm while making his way back towards the car. "That's just the icing on the cake."
“It’s like we’re in a rom-com," you commented as you followed him, laughing even more. "You're the oblivious man, I'm the funny girl who helps you figure out your feelings. It’s the climax of the movie, we're both drenched, and then we kiss in the rain,"
Mike glared at you, but the look was not genuine. You could tell, and it only made you laugh even more. "Yeah, yeah, let's just get to the car."
The two of you ran towards the car, and Mike jumped inside the driver's seat. You quickly got into the passenger's side before the door shut closed, and you let out a sigh of relief. You took a moment to catch your breath, and then you turned to Mike, a smile playing on your lips.
“Just so you know, those are my favorite type of rom-coms.”
Mike rolled his eyes. "And just so you know, I hate rom-coms."
You leaned over to kiss his cheek, letting out a soft giggle. "Better buckle up then, Romeo. After we find a towel and get home, we're watching the best rom-com of all time."
He rolled his eyes again, but you could tell that the small smile on his lips was genuine this time. "Let's just go before the car floods,"
You smiled, leaning back in your seat. "Sounds good, honey.”
575 notes · View notes
everparanoid · 5 months
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Headcanon: university student! Wriothesley
University student! Wriothesley x gn! reader
tags: fluff - word count: 1.2k
Wriothesley is what you would call 'the misunderstood "bad boy".' That is to say, he isn't bad at all but rather has a bad-boy exterior that intimidates your peers.
Wriothesley, as a student, is the quiet type and can seem threatening at first glance. But once you get to know him, you realise he’s quite relaxed and has a sharp wit. He’s always seen with a flask in hand, leading everyone to assume it contains alcohol. But it’s filled with tea. He doesn’t bother taking notes during lectures because he’s already read all the material for the class. His attendance at lectures is more about the atmosphere than the content, and it was even rarer before he met you.
Even the professors noticed a change in his attitude towards attendance after he met you. It was as if your presence sparked a newfound interest in him to attend lectures more regularly despite already knowing the material.
At the start of the second term, you arrive late to the lecture. To avoid the walk of shame down the stairs to find your friends, you choose to sit next to him at the back of the lecture hall. You side-eye him cautiously the entire time. However, the moment he turns to offer you some tea from his flask, you realise you have misjudged him. You’ve been sitting with him ever since.
If you happen to be in the same seminar group, Wriothesley will bring an extra flask lid to share his tea with you just in case. He’ll also catch you up on any notes you missed while daydreaming or dozing off from a late night of studying.
Wriothesley always hangs back after class, patiently waiting as you pack up your bag. Then, he walks you back to your place, even though his place is on the other side of campus. He says it’s because he enjoys the extra time to discuss the day’s lecture with you. In reality, he simply enjoys your company in any form--no matter the subject of conversation, and the long walk back to his place is just a small price to pay for that.
Wriothesley is the student you never see on campus unless you actively go looking for him. He’s part of the boxing society, so he often comes to lectures and seminars covered in bandages, which only fuels the rumours of him running an underground fight club.
Wriothesley often assumes leadership roles and no one objects. His presence commands both respect and a certain level of fear. It’s not that he actively seeks these positions he just doesn't like injustice. In fact, rumour has it that the previous president of the boxing society abandoned his post after Wriothesley challenged him to a match. The challenge was to verify if the president was truly as skilled as he claimed, or if he was merely rigging matches in his favor. As it turned out, the president was a no-show for the match, leaving the society without a leader. That day, it was unanimously decided that Wriothesley would assume the president’s duties. And he did so without batting an eye. You had been relieved by the strangely peaceful turn of events.
Wriothesley has an anonymous fan club of people who submit extremely blurry pictures and updates of him around campus, unbeknownst to him. You once opened your Instagram to see a picture of him holding the door open for a fellow student, followed by another picture of him helping one of the known aggressive campus cats down from a tree. You'd followed the Instagram page as a joke, but the images were quite cute, so you never unfollowed.
Wriothesley isn’t on any social media platforms, so you two keep in touch via text messages. Initially, you had him saved in your contacts as ‘His Grace’, a playful nod to the way people treat him with the reverence of a duke. But now, you’ve changed his name to ‘Ricecake’, much to his chagrin. He regrets ever letting you in on that annoying nickname. You’re always curious about how he has you saved in his phone. He teases you by saying he’ll show you if you can correctly answer three questions about the class material. But he’s crafty, always making the last question about something you haven’t covered yet in the readings. So, to this day, you still don’t know what your name is on his phone, and you probably never will. That’s just how Wriothesley is, always keeping you on your toes.
Every week, before the lecture, Wriothesley sends you a text asking what you’d like from the campus cafe. He knows your order by heart and doesn’t really need to ask. Plus, he always has his own tea prepared in his flask, so he doesn’t need to spend money there. But he does it anyway, just to see the smile on your face when you rush into the lecture hall, inevitably late, but relieved to have your weekly fix. Initially, he started doing this in an attempt to help you avoid being late to lectures, which didn’t quite work out. But over time, it’s become a habit he cherishes.
Wriothesley is your steadfast study partner in the library. Despite your best intentions, you often find yourself falling asleep at your keyboard, promising each time that it won’t happen again. Yet, there you are, waking up to find fifty pages of the letter ‘L’ on your Word document, and Wriothesley’s large jacket draped over you like a warm blanket. He continues to work quietly beside you, unfazed by your slumber. He doesn’t mind the late nights. In fact, he prefers them, especially when he’s in your company. And even after pulling an all-nighter, he somehow manages to look more put-together than you in your shared 8:30am class the next morning. Every time you call him out on this, he just laughs.
One night, you’re in the library with Wriothesley, half-asleep, buried under a three-thousand-word essay due by noon the next day. In the midst of this academic haze, Wriothesley looks up from his laptop and asks you out on a date.
"You know, there’s this supposedly fantastic spot in town I think we should check out after we're both done with all of this. That is, if you’d like to accompany me?" he suggests. His words hang in the air, a question wrapped in casual conversation.
Startled, you lift your head, which had been precariously balanced on your hand, and quickly wipe away the trace of drool from your mouth. "Huh?" you manage to utter, caught off guard.
Wriothesley leans back in his chair, a fond smile playing on his lips. It’s a look you’ve seen before, but never really pondered over. He’s often looked at you this way, so it’s not entirely unexpected. Yet, this time, it feels different, as if it carries a deeper meaning.
With a hint of amusement in his eyes, he repeats, "I am asking if you’d like to go on a date with me?"
It doesn't surprise anyone when you walk into the lecture late holding hands with Wriothesley. From the beginning, everyone, including your professors, had suspicions about the two of you. After all, the pairing of the quiet, bad boy and you, who always arrived late to lectures, seemed inevitable.
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flxrartsstuff · 1 month
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Love Remembered
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Authors note: You’re the Reincarnation of Sukunas one and only love. Every night you dream of him, seeing his face clear in front of you. He is ready to claim what belongs to him and he’s gonna do anything that needs to remind you. You know there’s a strange connection, you can’t deny it.
cw: nipple play, eating out, fingering, cumming undone, Sukuna being Sukuna
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Art by @innaillus , Banner made by me
He had been watching you for a long time. Time didn't matter to him, but it became important when it comes to you. Because he couldn't waste a single second of feeling your presence. It was quite frightening that he watched you sleep every night, lying next to you in bed but not touching you. You woke up and thought you were just dreaming, that you had felt a certain closeness to something or someone. Your dreams had recently become wilder and...more authentic. You couldn't deny that they aroused you and that you woke up sweaty and in tears every morning. They were just dreams, you kept telling yourself.
But the more often they came, the more they burned themselves into your brain. It was always the same image.
You woke up in a field of flowers, surrounded by the most beautiful flowers you had ever seen, cherry blossom trees and the blue sky gave you a calm and idyllic picture of spring. In the shade of some trees, however, stood a tall and dark figure that seemed to have been waiting for you. The broad and large body was covered by a simple white kimono. You were wearing just as little fabric as you looked down at yourself and you sat in the meadow as if you had just landed from the sky. When you looked back at the stranger, he was standing in front of you suddenly, looking down at you with piercing red eyes.
»Do you remember?« he asked you simply. You looked up as if paralyzed, your mouth open for an answer, but nothing came out. He smirked, got down on his knees and came to eye level with you. His hand placed on your chin, forcing you to look directly at him. His thumb ran over the contours of your lips, each touch burning into your skin, feeling so real. You sighed and let yourself fall, after all, it was all just a dream, wasn't it?
»Remember me!« he insisted, running his hand from your mouth down to your neck, almost possessively. On the one hand, his touch was so gentle, while at the same time it seemed so rough and agitated. As if he had to hold himself from falling all over you. His long dark nails scraped across your skin, matching with his unmistakable black tattoos. They snaked over his shoulders and chest. You didn't dare touch him of fear the dream would be over then.
And you didn't want that. You felt the same connection and attraction every time. You let him touch you as if it were a matter of course, you wanted more and didn't want him to leave again. Your eyes wandered over his entire figure, caressing his striking face with your gaze and memorizing everything so you wouldn't forget it. But why? Why did you feel like you already knew him? And longing for him? This feeling of having missed him all these years without realizing it?
He took one of your hands in his, as if he had read your mind, and placed it on his cheek. As soon as you touched him, his ruby eyes seemed to glow. He was warm and surprisingly to your first impressions of him, his skin was so soft and flawless. You looked at him like a harmless deer. Your gaze so empty and yet so curious.
»Remember me.« he pressed out again more forcefully, turned his head and let your hand, which had previously been on his cheek, slide over his mouth. He kissed it, kissed each of your fingers, let his tongue wander over the spaces between them. Just the sight of this intimate moment made you sigh. It was so forbidden, but it felt so right. His other hand, which had previously been on the back of your neck, had now moved to your hip and impatiently pulled you closer to him. Your body bounced against his, your breasts beneath your gauzy fabric of clothing meeting his with rapture. You tried to push yourself back from him with one hand, but it didn’t really help. He held you without a problem, kissing your fingers and moving his mouth to your wrist as he slowly pushed you further and further back into the flowers. His body was over you like a cage, pressing against yours, which seemed to offer no resistance. Quite unlike your mind, your body was far more ahead and had long since revealed your desire for him. Your heart was beating so loudly it was as if he could hear it. A dark growl left his lips in affirmation.
By now he was no longer kissing your hand, but your neck, littering your skin with numerous touches and leaving a burning trail all over. So burning that you could feel it all the way down to your abdomen. Instinctively, you grabbed the back of his head, buried your hand in his pink hair and sighed through his kisses.
Deep down, you knew who it was. That's why you not only allowed it, but wanted more and more. He noticed the change in you, but that wasn't enough for him. So he kept going, pushing your clothes off your shoulders, exposing your collarbone and letting his tongue wander deeper and deeper. Soft sighs and whispers left your mouth, becoming indecent needs and desires.
Your whispering was music to his ears that he couldn't get enough of. He pressed himself more intensely against your body, letting you feel what awaited you as soon as he did. His hard erection, still hidden under his clothes, clearly revealed how hungry he was for you. He didn't bother to hide it, more than that. He rubbed himself against you, against your wet center, which he claimed for himself alone. You moaned as you felt him, so close and yet so far away. Clothes rubbed over clothes, as if he was doing it on purpose. Your abdomen was throbbing, as was your pussy, which was now drowning in its own moisture. Impatient as he was, he opened your robe and exposed you completely naked in front of him, not for the first time. His hungry gaze slid over your entire body, he licked his lips and leaned down to you, only to take possession of your sensitive nipples straight away. As he devoured one breast with his mouth, he took care of the other with one hand, rolling the tip through his fingers and pinching it every now and then. Your mouth was wide open as you couldn't hold back another moan, grinding your hips against his with desire.
You wanted him here and now, right on this meadow, among all these flowers. Your eyes sparkled with lust when he kept looking up at you as he kissed you. Your nipple kept slipping through his tongue with ease, had become so hard and red that he sighed and turned to the other one to do the same. Your back arched, your hips thrust harder against his, but all he had left in response was a dark giggle. Now he knew that your senses had come to life.
»Sukuna...« your voice was a whisper, so desperate, so lustful. His hot breath hit your sensitive skin as he moved away from your breasts again and wandered lower to your stomach. He pushed both thighs apart with less force to expose your already glistening pussy, which was just waiting for him to finally take possession of it. He draped both your legs on his shoulders and positioned himself right in the center of you.
»Let me taste you...« were his words as his mouth was already over your clit and each of his breaths hit you directly on your wet and sensitive folds. He devoured your pussy hungrily, moaning as soon as he tasted your wetness. You flinched with pleasure, sweet sounds escaping your lips as you lolled beneath him. His tongue and teeth rubbed against your sensitive center, teasing your clit. He penetrated you, wanting to taste you deep inside him and not waste a single drop of your sweet nectar. He seemed to want to drown himself in it, but at the same time torment you by taking all the time in the world.
It felt so forbidden, so appealing and dangerous. His eyes glowed red as you looked down. Seeing his head between your thighs sent your lust to unimagined heights. You moved your hips slightly against his tongue and sighed, moaning into the sky above you. The scent that emanated from the flowers and him clouded your senses. Alongside his tongue, he drove his fingers into you, first one and then two. Immediately your body reared up, wanting more. Naughty sucking and smacking rang in your ears as he continued calmly, holding your hips so you couldn't move. You felt the heat running down your thighs and center like hot lava, felt it growing bigger and bigger inside you. All you wanted was to let yourself drift and get closer and closer to the climax. And because he finally had you as far as he wanted, he didn't stop.
»So sweet…and this is all mine.« he growled against your pussy and your body shook. It wasn't a request, it was a clear message that brooked no objection.
»Y-yes, yes…« you moaned from half-closed eyes, your legs pushed even further apart than they already were. He gave you the rest when he took possession of your breast again with his free hand and at the same time circled the tip of your nipple while he licked and tasted you. As soon as he had your nipple between his fingers, your climax overtook you and you came uncontrollably on his mouth.
»Oh my god…ohhh yesss…«
»That’s a good girl.« He licked over your pussy and greedily took in your entire ejaculation, tasting your orgasm on his lips. Moaning, he rolled his eyes, drowning in your center, sucking on you until you had fully gone through your climax. Your hands got lost in his hair and let his pink strands slide through your fingers. Greedily he came up to you and kissed you urgently so that you could taste the flavor of you on his lips. Your center was still throbbing, hard and demanding, while his hips pressed invitingly against it. But when his lips came away from yours, smacking, the image of him disappeared.
He was no longer lying on top of you and you were no longer lying on the flower meadow. You could barely stop yourself from sobbing out loud, swallowing hard and realizing where you were. How could someone you had never met before have such power over you? You saw his face so clearly in your dream that it could no longer be a coincidence. As if he crept into your mind every night.
»You’re mine.«
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Part 2: ?
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leidensygdom · 1 year
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Okay, I will try to explain this topic as well as I can. I will preface this with the fact this comes from personal experiences, and that they may not apply for everyone who has ties to this culture, but let's get to it:
What's the issue with Fortune tellers / "Exotic" circus performers, sexualized belly dancers and other forms of orientalism/Romani depictions?
So, as someone in the TTRPG world (specifically, the DnD community), this sort of trope is seen quite a lot. From the portrayal of Vistani (which has been tried to be fixed, but not... too well), to player characters in home games, as well as popular canon characters and podcasts, it's got quite normalized. Most of these tropes are based on Romani, which is a widespread ethnicity present all across the globe. Now, it feels almost strange to call it orientalism, given how Romani have been in Europe since the Middle Ages, even though they do have roots outside of Europe.
Romani face one of the biggest diaspora in the world: You will find Roma people under many names in very different countries, with cultures and traditions that can clash heavily. Their numbers can range from few hundred in some countries, to over a million in those they have a biggest presence. My own experience is tied to Spanish Roma, known as Gitanos, which is where my mother's side family comes from.
Gitanos are a widespread group, although they're most numerous in the southern part of Spain, Andalusia, where their presence has shaped the culture. Flamenco is thought to have been born from Gitano culture, and it has been adopted as a staple of the Andalusian identity, and the whole of Spain. Gitanos are hard to understand as their own ethnicity in Spain: There's been centuries of Gitanos and Spanish people mixing, and the average Andalusian is quite tan to start with (given Muslim presence there has also been pretty firm). It means it can be hard to "clock" a Spanish Romani person from a non-Romani one. It means you can find Romani people most would consider white, at least by Spanish standards. Most of the discrimination Gitanos face is cultural (and the whole ordeal can be a bit harder to explain from a more US-centric view).
Now, even when Gitanos have influenced Spanish culture a lot, they still face plenty of discrimination. They are one of the most marginalized groups out there. Laws have discriminated against them for centuries, on and off, which have put them in poverty. And poverty often develops into criminality, which has only seeded the idea that Gitanos are criminals, "lowlies", the bottom of society, "uncivilized", etc. Now, here comes a bit of my own experience with this.
My entire family is Andalusian, but both sides moved from there (the south) to Catalonia (north-east) in order to find a job during the Francoist (fascist) dictatorship. I won't get much into the specifics of the Catalan vs Andalusian beef because that's a bit of a massive topic too, but the important thing here is: My mother's side is Romani. My grandma faced some horrifying forms of discrimination, including the theft of her first child during the fascist dictatorship, which was taken from her by nuns (who ran hospitals at the time) to be placed into a "proper" family. (This is something that happened repeatedly at some hospitals during these times).
Now, she had two other children: My mother and my aunt. My aunt remained closely knit to Romani culture, and took part in it, which included marrying a Romani guy. She always did her best efforts to be part of it. I know she was into some culturally-related dances, which included some forms of bellydancing (which is also partially tied to Roma culture). But my mother decided she'd rather cut ties with her culture and become "civilised", by abandoning said culture.
This isn't too uncommon for Gitanos, to be honest. I've met a few people who come from similar backgrounds through my life. One of them was in university, where a fellow classmate gave an oral exposition about how his family had done a great job at "becoming civilised" by cutting ties with their own Roma roots. My university was a fairly progressive space, but no one batted an eye at that: The sheer hatred of Roma culture runs so deep even people who normally abhor racism and xenophobia consider Gitanos to be worth the hate.
There's a social pressure to do that, too. Everyone "knows" Gitano are criminals. I can't really even begin to explain how deeply does this sort of discrimination run. Roma are amongst the most hated minority groups in all of Europe (as well as most of the world). You will find that even in very leftist circles. People will try to erase the fact Roma have their own culture, and just make the world equal to "criminal", call them gy***** (which is a slur, btw), and detach them from being an actual culturally (and often racially) distinct group.
Now, this is only empowered by how media has taken our culture (it is almost hard for me to call it "our", given how much my mother ensured to take that away) and made it into a bad trope. Growing up, I was told my aunt was a sexual deviant who partook in indecent dances. Bellydancing is often seen as something very sexual (Wasn't, in origin), very unfitting. In media, bellydancers veer on the side of being a f*tish, and the common trope is the "bellydancer who seduces people in power for their own benefit". There's also the whole idea of shady fortune tellers and other magical tropes, that sort of weird mysticism that falls rapidly into orientalism. The idea that Roma will hex you, curse you, place an "Evil Eye" on you. And also the idea of travelling circus, people who perform in them being again full of that alluring exoticism, but beware! For they will enchant you, steal from you and run some massive criminal schemes on the way.
Now, when every tie a culture has on media is portrayed in a negative light, it's much harder for that culture to recover any sort of respect from the general populace. And that includes even people who are part of said culture, or people who have been removed from it. It has taken me so many years to unlearn a lot of these biases and realize where it has come from, and now I'm far too distant and far away from my grandmother to actually ever significantly connect to my heritage.
I've had the opportunity to witness what Romani culture is actually about, as I used to live with my grandmother during summers. A lot of the "mysticism" she took part of was actually about wards and protection. A lot of them were actually medicinal in nature, even if others were more superstitious. Red thread in the forehead for sickness and protection to curses, parfums (which contained alcohol or other antiseptics) on wounds, that stuff. My aunt was never a "sexual" deviant, she was keen on recovering and partaking on traditions from a culture that is slowly disappearing. The entire "promiscuous" idea is bullshit, Gitanos place a massive amount of power to marriage and loyalty. I had the luck to witness my cousin's marriage, which was a festivity like none other I had seen in my life, a colorful spectacle full of the most delightful attires, and my mother was whining the entire time over about how it was all an "uncivilised circus".
Now, this is why representation in media is key. Roma culture is broken into a thousand pieces and lost with every passing day. When someone decides to write an ambulant circus performer/fortune teller clad in exotic clothes full of golden jewellery, writes them as a criminal and makes the entire thing extremely sexual, they are feeding into the negative stereotypes about Roma.
Now, there's a lot of people who aren't even aware what culture does that trope even actually come from. I've seen people draw characters clad in Romani attires (often in, uh, rather pin-up or sexual contexts) and claim they're inspired by "x piece of media", where the trope is portrayed in the first place. I literally saw someone make a drawing in that way and call it "inspired by x (non-Roma) artist" instead of acknowledging where does all that come from.
I'm not asking people to not portray Roma people in media. Far from that. I just wish representation was better. Good representation is key towards making a culture seen in a more positive light, and teaching other peoples about it, and making people from said culture resonate with it. The very few times I've seen positive representations of Roma I've felt a bit of that connection with something that was taken from me. I want people to do a bit of research before giving a try to a Roma-coded character. Make an effort to not make Roma always the morally dubious fortune teller, the exotic alluring circus traveller, the bellydancer seductress. It's hard for Romani to produce widespread mainstream media because of how impoverished most communities are (because of the systematic discrimination Roma face all around the world), so the least non-Roma people can do is to be kind when they use their voice to talk or represent us.
I know this is a massive post, and I'm tagging it as "long post" for that reason, but I hope it is helpful for people. Feel free to ask or add your own experience if this is something that resonates with you too. Ask away if you want. I've been wanting to tell a bit my own personal experience, as this has always been a hard spot for me, and even if just a handful of people read this and understand what is this all about, I think it will have been worth it.
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leaentries · 5 months
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i want you to give in | nico hischier
summary: tension can only build for so long, eventually it will have to snap.
warnings: suggestive themes, swearing
wc: 2.6k+
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You and Nico had only been friends a couple of months, but that didn’t stop the growing tension every time you were in the same room. 
Becoming close friends with a bunch of professional hockey players was not on your bingo card for the year. Yet, here you are, knocking on the door of Jack and Luke’s shared apartment.
You had met Luke at a bar when your so-called “friends” dragged you out for the night, then proceeded to ditch you for some random guys they had run into. 
Luke noticed your sunken form at the corner of the bartop, looking as out of place as he felt. He took the opportunity to introduce himself, buying you a drink in the process. After the two of you hit it off, he made sure to stay by your side the rest of the night. When you told him about your friend's leaving, he took it upon himself to integrate you into the tight-knit hockey crowd in the back of the wide room. 
You immediately fell into a comfortable conversation with a shaggy-haired boy named Dawson. These boys, along with the select girlfriends and wives, welcomed you with open arms. Only about an hour or so had passed when he showed up. 
It was almost embarrassing how quickly you were drawn to him. Maybe it was the way he carried himself with such confidence, but not enough to seem arrogant. Or, perhaps, it was the way his tight shirt clung to the defined muscles along his torso. 
Watching his movements grow closer, you saw a few of the other boys side-hug him, clearly excited by his presence. You leaned closer to Dawson’s side, trying to get a better view of the captivating brunette man. Dawson noticed your proximity, following your gaze to see where your focus had drifted to. He smirked.
“Whatcha lookin' at?” He asked smugly. 
Your eyes widened as you realized you had been caught staring. Hard. A warm blush crept up your neck as you averted to look at anything else. “N-nothing, just people watching.” You had hoped he bought your excuse, but the look on Dawson’s face proved otherwise. 
“Oh no, no, no. That was definitely not nothing. I saw you making goo-goo eyes at Cap over there.” This time it was your turn to make a face. 
“Cap?”
Dawson nodded, “Yeah, that's Nico. Our captain.” 
Nico. 
Even his name was hot.
But what had you almost on your knees was when a pair of big, deep brown eyes met your own. Your breath hitched as Nico’s eyes raked down your body. If it was any other guy, you’d typically be bothered, but there was a strange feeling of comfort in his gaze.
His tongue darted out to wet his slightly-chapped lips and, if you weren’t so flustered, you could have sworn you saw Nico’s chest begin to rise quicker. Neither of you looked away from each other, not until Jack’s drunk form flung into Nico’s. The moment may have been fleeting, but the feeling Nico had left on you wasn’t. 
❥.
You didn’t run into Nico again until Luke had invited you to a Devil’s function at the Haula household. You were nervous, staying silent the entire ride over. 
“Are you alright?” Luke’s voice echoed in your ears, snapping you back to reality. 
“Mhm, yeah. I’m okay, just a little nervous, I guess.” You bit your lip, looking back out of the window. 
“Aw, c’mon, Y/n. You’ve already met almost everyone that’s gonna be there. They all love you.” 
You just gave him a tight-lipped smile in return. You had failed to mention your little “encounter” with Nico the week prior. Simply because you felt it was too insignificant to bring up to your new friend, especially with the man in question being Luke’s captain. 
When the car finally parked in front of the big house, you felt yourself hesitating. You knew Nico was already inside, as Luke had been running behind on his way to pick you up. You couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was about Nico that made your heart race and knees wobbly, but it was hard to hide his effect on your body. 
“You coming?” Luke walked over to the passenger side, opening the door for you.
It was now or never. 
You followed Luke into the house, quickly being welcomed by familiar faces. Although the face you were most anxious to see was nowhere to be found. You felt your stomach drop a little bit at his absence but shook off the feeling as Dawson made his way to you. 
“Hey, y/n/n! How ya been? I haven’t seen you in forever…” He whined, making you laugh. 
“I literally saw you last week Daws, but I’m just fine.” You let your eyes drift over Dawson’s shoulder briefly, still not seeing Nico. 
“Ah, I see,” Dawson drawled, making your eyes shoot back toward his, “You’re just concerned with finding “Mr. Pretty-Brown-Eyes,” He mocked.
“Dawson!” You slapped him slightly, “I texted you that in confidence!” You looked around to make sure no one had heard the loud boy’s comment. Seeing as everyone was preoccupied, you let out a relieved sigh. 
He threw his hands up in surrender, “Sorry, sorry! But, you can’t deny it. You’ve looked like a lost puppy since you and Luke stepped through the door.”
“Oh, whatever, I have not.” You pouted. 
“Have to- Oh look! There’s Nico!” 
You whipped your head in the direction Dawson was looking, only to be met with an empty wall. You turned back, stone-faced. 
“Haha, very funny, Mercer. Very funny.” You rolled your eyes at his antics, genuinely starting to feel a little sad that you hadn’t seen Nico yet. 
“C’mon, I can help you find him.”
You shook your head in protest, “No, no, absolutely not. Nope.” 
Dawson’s brows furrowed, “Why not? You very obviously want to see him.” 
“For your information, Dawson, I haven’t ever actually talked to him before.” You turned up your nose, rejecting the idea. 
“So you’re delusional?” Dawson deadpanned. 
Your jaw dropped, “Well, damn. Way to call a girl out.” 
He rolled his eyes, “I’m kidding..for the most part,” You gave him a pointed look, “Just come on, I’ll introduce you as my friend. I’ll even start the conversation. It’ll be fine, y/n/n.”
“Not happening. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to find the bathroom.”
“Sure, sure, escape just when I give you the opportunity of a lifetime.” 
You opted to ignore Dawson as you walked away, heading to the set of stairs that led to the second story. Having overheard someone ask earlier, you knew the bathroom was somewhere upstairs. Turning knobs, you eventually found the bathroom, walking in to do your business. 
Once you had finished, you opened the door to leave, not really paying attention to your surroundings. You stumbled back as you ran straight into a hard chest. 
“Shit!” Your hand flew to cover the slight red spot on your forehead, “I’m so so sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going!” You apologized profusely, still not looking to see who you ran into. 
“Don’t worry about it, pretty girl. It was my fault.” The sound of a thick accent made your skin heat up. You looked up slightly, meeting Nico’s eyes. You swallowed thickly. 
“I don’t think we’ve met, properly. I’m Nico.” He flashed his dimples. 
Oh god. 
“I know who you are,” You panicked, “I-I mean, I’m Y/n.” 
He laughed, “Well then, I know who you are too.” 
“You do?” You peered up at him through your lashes, leaning your back against the door frame. 
Nico nodded, eyes slightly hooded. “Yeah, I saw you with Luke at the bar last week. You were wearing that black dress.” 
Your breath picked up at his statement. “You remember what I was wearing?” You silently cursed yourself for not being able to muster up any other words. 
Nico’s arm rose to rest above your head as he leaned closer down to you, “How could I not remember? It’s kind of hard to forget someone like you.” 
Before you could reply, you heard footsteps rushing up the stairs. 
“Hey, cap! You up here?” 
With your nerves getting the best of you, you took the chance to slip out of his bubble, quickly making your way back downstairs. 
Holy shit. 
❥.
Your encounters with Nico became more frequent, as you often were with the boys. The little flirty remarks only worsened, except now Nico took a liking to placing lingering touches on your body. 
Grabbing your hips to move you over, or slightly pulling your hand to lead you through public places. It felt as if he would find any excuse to touch you. Not that you were complaining, but it left your mind hazy. You would like to think he was into you the way you were him, but you couldn’t be sure.
You knew hockey players had “conquests,” and you weren’t really in the market to be one. So, you kept your feelings to yourself, not ready to face the harsh reality of Nico not being serious about pursuing you, at least romantically speaking. Which led you to now, meeting at the Hughes’ apartment for the weekly movie night. 
The whole ordeal started after a night out in which mostly everyone got too hammered to get home safely. Tonight’s movie agenda was the entire “Hunger Games” series since Luke has been wanting to go see the newest that just hit theaters. 
After Jack let you in the apartment, you made a b-line to the side room off the hallway that held all the blankets. You made sure to get the same one every movie night, refusing to share with anyone else. Curling up in your usual corner, a knock at the door stilled the apartment. 
“Who’s that?” Dawson asked Luke, who was making popcorn in the kitchen.
“It’s probably Nico. He wanted to start joining us for movie night.” 
You felt your body perk up at the new information, you’d be seeing Nico weekly. Another knock followed after a minute. 
“Could one of you please get that? I’m busy perfecting this popcorn.” 
“It’s literally just popcorn, Luke.” Dawson remarked. 
“No, there is the perfect butter-to-popcorn ratio that I have figured out. Now, please, let the captain inside.” 
Dawson, who just sat down, turned to you, “Can you let Cap in, y/n/n?” He smirked, “I’m still trying to get comfortable.” 
You narrowed your eyes in his direction, clearly picking up on what he was trying to do. 
“Guys?” Luke called, “It’s gonna get awkward if you don’t let him in.” 
Huffing, you rose from your spot, “I’m going, I’m going. Don’t get your panties in a twist, Luke.” 
You gripped the cold metal doorknob, taking a deep breath before opening it. 
Whoa.
You felt yourself shamelessly check out Nico’s attire, his muscular form clad in grey sweats and a simple black t-shirt. An action that did not go unnoticed by Nico. 
He smirked, gently brushing past you, “Who’s panties are in a twist?” 
Goosebumps rose upon your heated skin. 
A man that hot should never be allowed to say panties so casually. 
By the time you got back to your spot, a certain Swiss male had decided to occupy the once-perfect corner seat. Your shoulders slumped slightly, you felt a whine build up in your throat. 
“Nico, you know I always sit there.” You pouted at him, sending a glare his way. 
He chuckled, “Don’t worry, we can share. My lap still has plenty of room.” 
You could have sworn you stopped breathing. The way his brown eyes shined into yours made you almost hopeful that his smooth words were more than just a ploy, but doubt still rang clear in your ears. Before you could respond, Jack and Luke entered the living room, both with bowls full of popcorn. 
“Hey Y/n, would you mind going to grab some more blankets for everyone? We have our hands full with this popcorn.” Jack asked you, sending you a grateful smile. 
You eagerly accepted the offer to escape. Opening the closet door, you quickly shut it halfway, taking a moment to compose yourself. 
In and out, Y/n. In and out. 
Once your breathing was semi-normal, you turned around grabbing an armful of random blankets. As you turned once more, this time to leave, you ran into a hard chest. 
“You know, we really need to stop meeting like this, pretty girl.” Nico’s voice echoed in your ears as he quietly shut the door behind him. You scoffed, placing the blankets on the shelf beside you. Crossing your arms, you looked into Nico’s eyes. 
“And you really need to stop calling me that.” You slightly cringed at how harsh your words sounded through the small space. Nico’s face fell slightly. 
“Why’s that? Hm?” He quirked his head to the side, slowly backing you up until you hit the wall. You did your best to control the raging fire in your chest or the way your skin crawled at his proximity. 
“Because you don’t mean it, at least not seriously mean it.” 
Nico placed his hands softly on your hips, gripping them into his own. “I mean what I say. I haven’t been playing with you, ya know.” His face now had a pink twinge as he looked down, “I’ve been trying to get you alone for weeks, but every time I say something you run away.” 
You looked away from him guiltily. He wasn’t making it up, you did try and find any possible reason to avoid him when he started getting flirty. Only because you knew he wasn't truly into you, or at least thought he wasn’t. 
Nico’s hand reached up to turn your head back towards him, your lips only inches apart. You could feel his shallow breaths fanning on your aching lips. It was tempting, being so close to him. He was a drug and you were trying so hard not to get addicted. 
“I only ran because,” You swallowed, your voice barely above a whisper.
“Because why, schatzi?” 
A whimper almost escaped your throat at his choice of name. 
“Because I didn’t want to give in.” Your words hung around the both of you. You didn’t know where to look, nervous for Nico’s response.
“I do,” You darted your eyes into Nico’s at his low voice, “I want you to give in.” 
“Nico-”
“No,” He cut you off, lips now brushing against yours, “Don’t pretend you can’t feel it.”
I just want to give in.
Your hand reached up to Nico’s jaw, finally pulling him down to crash your lips together. The kiss was desperate, both of you hot and needy for each other. Nico groaned into the kiss, pulling your hips deeper into him. His tongue danced across your bottom lip, begging for entrance. Letting him in, you whined at the taste. 
You finally pulled away, breathless. 
“Wow.” That’s all you could muster. You could feel Nico’s racing heartbeat under your fingertips where your hand rested on his chest.
He rested his forehead against yours, nodding slightly. 
“Yeah, wow.” 
You nudged his head up, his doe-eyes peering into yours. You opened your mouth to say something but were quickly cut off, once again. 
“Before you say anything, just know that I’m serious about you. I think I have been since I saw you at that bar.” 
You bit the inside of your lip, “Promise?” 
Nico placed a sweet kiss on your nose, “Promise.” 
The moment was temporary, being ruined by a loud voice, “Cap and Mrs. Cap! Get your asses out here and quit fucking each other. I am NOT in the mood to be an uncle.” 
“Screw you, Dawson!”
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yandere-romanticaa · 1 year
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A month has passed since a strange cult took you within its ranks. It wasn't necessarily by choice but it was something you needed to do in order to survive. Your entire village had been destroyed in a sudden onslaught of ferocious demons, massacring all of your friends and family.
You were left with nothing.
For days you had roamed the mountains and with a heavy heart had accepted the fact that you were going to die, be it from starvation, dehydration or some stray demon devouring you from head to toe.
Lord Douma had other things in store for you.
He was a strange one, the man who rescued you. He was oddly easy to amuse and absolutely everything you did was incredibly entertaining to him. One of his favorite past times were when he would simply stare at you as you talk about your life and perform everyday, mundane duties. At first you thought nothing of it - he saved your life, the least you could do was indulge him just a little bit.
Red flags started to show up soon though - the way he would move and carry himself, it simply was not natural. Whenever there was a meal, Douma would not even look at the food or even have a sip of water. You chalked it up to him having his own private meals and decided to think nothing of it.
You had managed to settle within a comfortable routine which just so happened to often cross paths with the great Lord himself. He seemed to greatly enjoy your presence and would have you with him from the moment the sun had risen until wee hours in the morning.
How was he never tired?
Suspicion slowly turned to fear as you noticed that some members of the cult were missing. No one knew what came of them or where they were last seen, as if some foul creature had spirited them away.
You brought up your concerns with Lord Douma but he just called you silly and told you not to worry about it. "Nothing bad will happen to you!" he'd say reassuringly but his words gave you shallow comfort.
Douma, for whatever reason, was also quite fond of physical touch and you were his favorite when it came to that. He was absolutely shameless and would explore your body however he saw fit. Amongst those odd trysts, you noticed that a powerful metallic smell would cling onto him and would never go away no matter how hard you washed his clothing.
No amount of praying could prepare you for the horror you'd encounter on one moonless evening.
You had woken up due to a strange noise and, against your better judgment, decided to investigate. With nothing but a single candle in your hand and a long but thin nightshirt covering your body, you ventures downwards the dark and creepy hallways. It felt as though the shadows themselves were out to get you because you'd flinch at every single sound no matter how miniscule. The closer you got to Lord Douma's chambers the stranger the noises got - giggling, slurping and crunching could be heard as a horrible stench filled the air, a smell so vile that it made you want to throw up your dinner. You'd often ask him what he liked to eat but naturally, Douma would just dodge your question or say something really silly. "It's easier if I eat alone!" he'd say as he caressed your hair. With each step you took the stench became stronger and stronger and Douma's words continued to ring inside your head like bells.
"You see, I'm a bit of a night owl! It's also not smart to come to my chambers without knocking first!~"
You should have listened to him and his thinly disguised warning.
Through the tiniest of cracks you saw Douma on the floor, covered in fresh blood. A wicked grin danced across his lips as he toyed with the severed limbs with the mauled corpse of a young woman, her eyes stricken with fear even in death.
It took you every ounce and willpower to not scream bloody murder.
With the way he was treating the corpse you'd think that Lord Douma was but a child with a precious toy. His light tone and playful gestures sent chills down your spine as you covered your mouth with your hand, a desperate attempt to conceal any potential noises that may escape you. You watched him for a few moments as you let it all sink in, not even realizing just how much your entire being trembled with fear. Just before you could make a break for it you heard Douma speak.
"I know you're there, watching me. I don't know who you are but I can smell you!"
Crap.
Dropping the candle to the floor you could do nothing but freeze as Douma continued to speak, total indifference lacing his voice.
"I would leave, if I were you. I am in a good mood tonight and shall play stupid so I won't turn around to see your face! Now, be a good little disciple and go back to bed!"
Squeaking like a helpless puppy, you ran away with your tail behind your legs, not realizing that Douma knew damn well that it was you. The demon could sense your presence across a giant mountain if need be and your sweet smell would invade his senses every time he would think about you. It was a shame that you saw him in such a state but he really did not want to kill you. He was content with playing dumb and hoped that it would be the same case for you as well.
As long as you kept your lips sealed, everything was going to be alright.
Part 2 here!
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febuary30thday · 1 year
Text
Flora, Fauna
Okay, but I'm imagining a demon reader, who uses chlorokinesis as her BDA. But the catch is that she seems so comforting and warm with no ill intention until it's too late.
She is the New Upper Moon Six as a replacement for Daki and Gyutaro, and very often interacts with the Uppermoons so they happen to go yandere for her.
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This man is powerful, and he very often makes it known.
He's a cold, terrifying demon who cares very little about human emotions.
He's ruthless and strict, so he bottles up his heart
So, when he meets his....match? He's not letting go.
When you were first introduced as an Upper Moon, he didn't think much of it
He just acknowledged your presence and that was it
That changed when he stumbled upon you devouring an entire village of people, still looking elegant and poised
That surprised him slightly, normally all the demons all crazy when it comes to battle, and let themselves go
He is humble, and you ask him to join you in your feeding session.
With that elegant smile on your face, how can he say no?
You are quiet and he finds himself enjoying your presence more and more
You carry yourself in a very elegant way, and over time, he falls in love.
But then things get dark from there.
He doesn't want you to leave him, always accompanying you when you hunt for humans, using his position against you, and not allowing you to interact with the other Uppermoons, and his threats are not empty promises.
"Kokushibo, I need to leave, I'm going to go hunt."
"I'm coming with you."
"There is no need. I insist I can go by myself. I'm not going to die."
"That wasn't up for discussion."
Good luck with him.
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(He is so daddy. I'm sorry, but he is)
Muzan isn't loving, he never has been
He believes he is the perfect being, and that you are an extension of his perfection
Anything you do, connects back to him
He can read your thoughts and read your emotions and actions very well, so he can basically read you like an open book
This man sees potential in you, so you receive much more blood from him, and are promoted to the status of an Uppermoon.
He's seen your blood demon art before, but can't find it important enough to remember what it is
All he remembers is your carnage and chaos he had stumbled upon as you killed the last human in the village
He didn't bother caring about you
Until once again, he stumbled upon your chaos, only this time, he got to observe it, firsthand
He watched as you danced calmly in the streets, your voice ringing a strangely sweet sound in his ears
As people came out of their homes and watched, listened to you, enraptured by your voice
It was annoying watching you, so he went to leave until he heard a scream
It ended just as abruptly as it began.
He wasn't mesmerized, but he did enjoy your rather fast and efficient way of killing, but then he watched in surprise as you placed a hand on the ground and a red spider lily bloomed
He calls you over.
"My Lord! Forgive me for not noticing your presence earlier."
My darling, please tell me, what it was that you just did.
"Please forgive me, My Lord! I didn't mean to..."
"Answer me."
"Do you mean when I bloomed the spider lily? Did that inconvenience you, My Lord?"
"Tell me, what other flowers can you bloom?"
"Anything I wish, My Lord! I just need to know what it looks like and then I can make it!"
"No matter how rare?"
"No matter how rare, Muzan-sama!"
"My dear, you've done well. I have one simple task for you, if you can complete it, I'll be extremely proud of you."
"Anything!"
"Can you make me a blue Spider Lily?"
"Yes! Of course Muzan-sama!"
Out of simple excitement, you made quite an abundance of them, and he scooped you up and the flowers with one hand an all-to-knowing smile on his face.
"Good job, my perfect darling."
You are never leaving his grasp again.
"I wonder when Muzan-sama is going to let me leave." You thought, a puzzled expression on your face.
There was a smirk on his face as he studied the flower, not truly believing that this was real, and that it was all a fever dream.
"You don't get to leave, my darling. Stay in here and be a good girl, and I'll reward you with more of my blood."
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This man can't feel a thing, so when he meets you and his heart skips a beat, he is instantly intrigued
You catch his attention pretty quickly, with how humble and elegant you are in comparison to him.
This man is flashy and sort of gaudy
He follows you around like a lost puppy
So much so, that Kokushibo has started to get annoyed with Douma following around his beloved
Even if Douma was assigned by Muzan to make sure you didn't step foot outside the Infinity Castle, that doesn't mean he could be obnoxious about it
Douma is very affectionate, so expect plenty of hugs and cuddling and stuff
He is forceful in his affections but you'll just have to learn to accept that!
What? What do you mean you need to leave and go hunt?
Muzna assigned him to make sure you stay alive and healthy and never leave
Don't be stubborn now!
He also occasionally leaves kisses on your cheeks, arms, and hands
Just because he's obsessed doesn't mean he's possessive, right?
Wrong.
He is clinging to you like a baby and legitimately feels discouraged when you aren't around
He guilt-trips you a lot
Fake crying, begging, the like, he has even ripped out his heart to offer it to you
You can use his vulnerability to your advantage, like crying as well, pouting, sulking
He hates seeing you sad, and when you are sad, he does his best to reassure you, even if it means he has to leave to get you food to bring back
He showers you in affection and makes his followers worship you too, proclaiming you a goddess because of how beautiful he thinks you are
He buys you everything and anything
He offers up his prey to you so you can eat together, thinks of it as a date
He loves spoiling you, so just don't leave him, alright?
"You don't get to leave, snowflake! I have all sorts of things planned for us today! Behave, okay?"
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woso-dreamzzz · 3 months
Text
Firsts
Hardersson x Baby!Reader
Part of The Big Adventures Universe
Summary: Your first week at home
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You get to come home the day after you're born.
Thankfully, you sleep the entire time though Pernille stays in the back with you just in case. It's a little strange, she thinks. The last time she was home, she was pregnant. Now she has you.
Your name is decided the day you come home and you do little but nap and eat. You're a little devil that first night and wake up on the hour, every hour to cry and feed.
Pernille has to get up because she's practically your walking food source but Magda gets up in solidarity too (though it's mainly to coo in awe at you).
The next day is more active. Magda drives you all to the registry office where they finalise your name and then to the embassies to register you as a citizen of Denmark and Sweden.
You seem to like the car because it sends you to sleep every time but dislike leaving it because you cry and whine until one of them holds you nice and tight.
You seem to like affection though. You're most content in Pernille and Magda's arms and you get all wiggly and weird when you're put in your car seat or crib. Magda can't quite tell yet if you just like their presence or if it's because of their warmth. Either way, she doesn't really care, more than happy to give in to your every need.
She takes a lot of pictures of you, sending them to family members who lament about not being able to visit but promise to book tickets to Germany very soon.
The exhaustion kicks in around day three. You haven't settled since your last feed of the night and Pernille's practically falling asleep in her seat as you suckle at her insistently.
Her eyes slip closed every few seconds and she has to wrench them open each time just in case something happens to you. Magda looks to be in a similar state as she lies on the floor at Pernille's feet, snoring softly before lifting her head when Pernille nudges at her.
"Huh?" She asks groggily," Wha's...Wha's goin' on?" Her words are slurred and she blinks the sleep from her eyes.
"She needs a change," Pernille says, unlatching you and handing you down to Magda.
Magda mechanically takes you, still completely exhausted but still awake enough to hold your properly.
You scrunch up your face in annoyance when she strips you of your babygrow and changes your nappy. It's one of the few things Magda can say that you absolutely hate. You screech loudly and kick out your little, uncoordinated limbs while Magda scrunches up her nose at the smell.
You're a little darling most of the time but she absolutely hates changing you. She thinks it's a fair exchange though. Pernille's barely producing enough milk to keep you full so there's none to express and put in bottles for Magda to use to feed you so Pernille stays as your sole feeder and Magda does the changing.
The little stump where your umbilical cord used to be looks fine when Magda checks it, a habit she has found herself doing ever since the nurse said that there was always a slight chance of infection. She tickles your stomach to distract you as she slips on a new nappy and buttons up your babygrow again.
"There," Magda says," All done!"
She picks you up and brings you into the crook of her neck. You're rooting immediately, trying to suck in her collarbone like it's going to get you milk.
Magda laughs a little, patting you on the back softly.
Day four and five happen much the same with the three of you trapped in your sweet little bubble at home.
Day six doesn't have much excitement either apart from the Wolfsburg chat blowing up when Nilla finally lets slip that Pernille has had you.
Most of the day is spent on a video call with you propped up on Magda's chest as Pernille shows you off to the camera. Everyone coos and awes over you as you yawn and clench your little fist.
Pernille swipes a finger against your cheek to show off how much you like to eat because you automatically move your face towards the pressure and start trying to root, searching for her breast.
It causes a fresh wave of coos to sound from the phone.
It makes you demonstrate your startle reflex expertly as your eyes go wide and you fling your arms out.
Magda likes to say that she knows you're going to be smart when you grow up just by how strong your instincts are but Pernille's planning on waiting until you're at least strong enough to hold up your own head to make such judgements.
"She's so pretty," Noelle coos from where she's squished between Ewa and Sara on the screen," When can we come to see her?"
"Pernille will come to you guys," Magda says as she holds you a little tighter with a wink to the camera. "We're keeping her to ourselves right now."
"Unfair," Ewa complains," Why can't we get baby love too?"
"Baby love is reserved for her mothers right now," Pernille laughs as she begins to say her goodbyes to everyone.
"How long do you think you can hold them off?"
"Probably until you leave. Frido, though, should probably get told before Nilla blabs to her too."
Magda sighs deeply. "I'll text her later."
"You better hurry," Pernille says," Or you're going to get a very angry phone call later."
On your seventh day at home, you let Magda know how you feel about her taking you from Pernille's breast before you're ready by spitting up all over her back when she tries to wind you.
Somehow, you've even gotten some under her shirt and she can feel the milky mixture slide down her skin.
Half-delirious from sleep exhaustion, Pernille finds this hysterical and laughs until she cries as Magda can do nothing but writhe in disgust.
"Pernille!" She whines," Stop laughing! Hold her so I can change!"
Pernille is still hysterically laughing as Magda feels your spit meet her waistband. To your credit, you're not crying or anything. You're just happily blowing spit bubbles out of your milk as Magda wriggles around.
"I've got her, I've got her," Pernille giggles as she takes you and mops up your face," Go and change. You smell."
"It's her fault!"
"Don't blame, princesse! She's just a baby!"
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6lostgirl6 · 1 year
Note
yandere john wick with “I would never hurt you. You know that, right?” he just gives off such over protective/possessive energyyy 🤭
Your Protector
Pairing: Yandere!John Wick x Fem!Reader
TW: Yandere themes, toxic themes, mentioned stalking, kidnapping, possessive behavior, obsessive behavior, pet names, dubious kissing (at first), slightly suggestive. Reblogs are highly appreciated!!
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It was infatuation and obsession that drove him to take such drastic measures. Ever since he saw you, he was absolutely convinced that you were meant for him. His second chance at happiness and love since the passing of his wife, Helen.
It was also fear, fear that if he didn't kidnap you, you would be somehow hurt or even killed. John has spent many nights without sleep, worried over your safety. He knew that if he didn't take action, something was bound to happen.
You never met him before, never spoke with him, and it was a shock when he finally kidnapped you. A complete stranger. The last thing you could remember was walking home from another late-night shift and being grabbed from behind. In a millisecond, your mouth was covered by a cloth and your vision went black.
When you finally came to, you realized you did not recognize your surroundings. You were resting in a lavish guest room and you were still trying to wrap your brain around what was happening. While you were gathering your bearings, a man appeared. He was standing over you by the side of the bed.
"Good morning, sweetheart." The man said with a smile, greeting you in an affectionate tone. "I hope you slept well."
At first glance, he was a very attractive man and of great wealth. His towering stature, long black hair and wearing a seemingly expensive black tailored suit.
“Who are you?” You asked in fright, staring at him with wide eyes.
“W-What’s going on?” You scooted back against the headboard, trying to maintain some distance between you and the man. “What do you want?” You continued to stare at him, fearful of what he might do. 
His gaze held a disturbing mixture of kindness and menace as he looked down at you. "Don't be afraid, I'm not going to hurt you." He paused for a moment, as if weighing his next words carefully. "I just want to make sure that we're together. Forever."
“Who are you?” You were confused, having not ever met this strange man before in your entire life. You thought that this man was clearly delusional, could be mistaking you for someone else. He wanted the two of you to be together, but you could not understand the reasoning behind it. You needed to figure out who he is and hopefully find means of escaping. 
"I'm John Wick," he says simply, leaning over you. He has this strange, almost otherworldly quality about him that's difficult to explain. A sense of danger, but not necessarily violence. He's calm and collected, but you also feel the threat of his presence. It's like looking into the eyes of a predator, one who's just been waiting for the right moment to strike. It's terrifying, yet compelling at the same time.
Noticing your fear, he slowly moved to sit on the edge of the bed, bringing himself a little more to your level of height. However, he still continued to tower over you. With slight hesitation, he reached out and placed his hand on your cheek, his thumb brushing gently against your cheekbone. It's a gesture of familiarity and affection, yet there's a sense of darkness and danger to it.
"Don't be afraid, sweetheart." He said with a small smile, his intense dark-brown eyes locking onto yours. It was almost hypnotic, the way he was looking at you. Almost as if he truly knew you and for quite some time too. It left you feeling conflicted, complicated emotions infiltrating your heart.
His touch that was so gentle against your cheek, prompted your cheeks to grow a little warm. His affection was breaking down your resolve and leaving you quite nervous. Not nervous as if you were fearing for your life for feeling anxious, but rather the form of butterflies forming in your stomach and your heart in your throat. 
The warmth creeping onto your face seems to embolden John, and he leans in closer to you, his hand still resting on your cheek as the other trails its way down your thigh. He stared at you, his dark eyes taking in every detail of your appearance.
"You're so beautiful.” He whispers, his warm breath fanning across your face. There's an intensity to him that's almost frightening. He appeared like a wild animal, one that could snap at any moment. It was undeniable that there was something primal about him, something you can't help but be attracted to.
You couldn’t reply, unable to form any coherent sentences from the intensity and electrifying touch of his hand on your thigh. Slowly, you were feeling less uncomfortable but rather shy from his affectionate touches. However, your walls were starting to return when you remembered that you didn't even know this man.
“John…why are you doing this? You don’t even know me.”
"Because you're mine." He replied, his gaze was intense and there was undeniable heat in his voice. It was more than enough to make you feel a little dizzy. Almost as if you were falling into some dark abyss. There's no question that this man is dangerous, but you can't help feeling drawn to him. He exudes a primal, dangerous energy that is almost addictive, and you find yourself craving more of his attention and touch.”And I do know you, I know everything about you, (Y/N).”
You glanced towards the door, noticing that it was left open. Your logical side was screaming for you to wake up and understand that you were involved with something, someone, extremely dangerous. In that second, you were broken out of your spell. 
You hesitate before launching yourself from the bed in an attempt to escape.
John's smile fades as you attempt to flee, his expression turning dark and deadly. Without even seeming to move, he blocks the door, his body looming over you like a shadow of death. 
"Don't." He says, his voice low and dangerous. “You'll only make this harder for yourself, sweetheart." His eyes are cold and calculating, but there's also a strange desire behind them. 
One that's both terrifying and alluring.
With wide eyes, you backed away, feeling small in comparison to his looming figure and his predatory stance. The size difference between you two was incredible. You continued to keep your distance, placing yourself between furniture. 
With slow and deliberate steps, he follows you around the room, seemingly getting closer with each passing moment. He had the patience of an animal on the verge of a hunt. You can feel his eyes on you, tracking your every move. When he speaks again, his voice is calm, but there's something dangerous hidden beneath the surface. He's like a calm sea hiding the storm underneath. 
"You can't get away from me, sweetheart." He begins to move closer again, this time grabbing your wrist and holding it tight, his grasp like iron. "You belong to me."
“Yeah, right!” You struggled, trying to rip your wrist away from his grasp, he could only stare at you in slight amusement and anger. “I don’t belong to you or anyone! Nothing you will ever do will make me think otherwise!”
He raises an eyebrow and smirks at you, before he replies. 
"Alright then." 
Without warning, he pulls you towards him, kissing you passionately. His body is firm and strong, holding you tightly in his arms. His kiss is passionate and intense, like he's pouring all of his feelings and desires into it. The kiss was passionate and borderline possessive, trying to make you submit and accept him as your lover and protector. His grip around your wrist and waist is tight, becoming a little painful. You’re completely at his mercy and helpless in his arms.
You gasp from the sudden kiss, feeling intense emotions swirling within you and making your heart skip a beat. After a small moment, you began to return the kiss, thoughts of escaping melting from your mind. He also seemed to relax more into the kiss, it turning softer and loving, feeling that you were slowly but surely returning his affections. He pulls away after a moment, staring at you with a hungry and passionate gaze. 
"Are you convinced?" He asks, his voice low and husky, his gaze very heated and full of immense desire. He's still holding you tightly in his arms, not letting you go anywhere. He simply couldn't get enough of you. It's adamant that this animal has a lot of pent-up desire and passion. Now, he was looking forward to releasing it all onto you.  
"Y-Yes..." You muttered, your brain currently in a state of mush. You simply looked up at him with wide eyes, your cheeks warm from the intensity of his affections.
Slowly, he released your wrist, bringing his hand up to caress your cheek, his thumb brushing just underneath your eye. His touch was gentle and even a little soothing. He looked into your eyes, his heated stare now full of softness towards you. “I would never hurt you. You know that, right?” His voice, similar to his touch, was also full of softness. 
“Y-Yes…” Your resolve was completely demolished, he has successfully twisted your feelings around and made your heart scream out for more of his attention. Thoughts of finding a way to escape barely crossed your mind, your logical side slipping further away from your grasp. 
You simply didn’t care. 
"Good." He whispers, his voice was husky once more, full of want and desire for you.
With another powerful pull, he brings you into another kiss, one that is even more passionate than the first one. Knowing that you finally submitted left him with an animalistic excitement. He's hungry for you, almost starving for your touch and affection, and you can barely keep up with his ravenous desires. His excitement continued to grow, his grip on you tightening as he held you in his arms.  
"You're mine now, my love."  He continues, his eyes glistening with desire. 
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Taglist: Comment to be added!!
@prettywhenibleed
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ponderingmoonlight · 6 months
Text
JJK men after hurting (y/n)
Pairing: Choso x reader; Gojo x reader
Word Count: 4,7k (Gojo's part is huge)
Warnings: this is drama over drama so be prepared, injury in Choso's part, mentioned pregnancy and breakup in Gojo's part, also Geto is an a-hole in here and it isn't 100% accurate to the original story-timeline, it's getting veeeery heated my lovelys, but also comfort but mostly hurt
As usual, I am very thankful for every little like, comment or reblog (thank you anon hehe). Let me know what you think of this, I literally poured my heart and soul into these two parts <3
Tags: @sanicsmut I just know you'll like this girl, @chilichopsticks
Choso Kamo
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„(y/n), this is nothing I will discuss with you right now. Just stay here.”
“I can’t let you kill him, this isn’t right. His death won’t bring back your brothers!”, you shout urgently, hands desperately trying to keep him from walking away.
“I always appreciate your opinion and support. But this is something I have to do for myself. Don’t get in the way.”
With one last glance back he’s gone, lost in the neon signs around you, shadow immerged into darkness.
Your brain goes into panic mode immediately, palms sweaty just by the thought of him haunting that boy down. How strange it is that you are able to call Choso your boyfriend. Choso Kamo, a reincarnated curse that is over 150 years old. Choso Kamo, who seems cold-hearted to people when he first meets them. Choso Kamo, who loves his family more than anything else.
You know this isn’t him, that killing Yuji Itadori is nothing but an act of revenge for him that he hopes will make him feel better.
“But how does killing someone else solve your problems?”
He never answered this question. He didn’t have to, given the fact that he just stared at you with furious eyes. You know all too well how it broke him to lose his brothers through the hands of some random jujutsu sorcerers. Fuck, you were just as heartbroken as he was. But if revenge is the only solution, wouldn’t this little game go on to infinity?
This isn’t the way, this isn’t the man you love. And you won’t let him go berserk only to regret what he did later on.
There is only one thing you can you now.
Your feet start moving on their own, following his shadow through the dark hallways of Shibuya’s train station. You aren’t a very gifted jujutsu sorcerer, maybe a grade 2 in sorcerer terms. But maybe your presence will be enough to stop him. Maybe his love is greater than the hatred he carries in his heart for that Idadori boy.
After all, it is a miracle in itself that he really loves you, a human being. Instead of killing you right on the spot he decided to safe you and even take care of your multiple wounds back then when you first met. You are not only hopelessly in love with him, but owe him his life. It’s time for you to give something back.
The only thing that echoes through the hallways are your very own rapid steps and sharp breaths. Please let him be okay, please let him still search for that boy. Your forehead glisters in sweat, the area only illuminated by the changing neon signs.
Finally a sound. You stop in your tracks immediately and close your eyes while holding your breath. It’s far away, but those are steps and dampened rumbling. It has to be him. And he’s definitely not alone. 
You can’t waste any time. As fast as your shaky legs carry you, you run down the hallway, eyes roaming around to catch a glimpse of his dark messy hair. Did he found Yuji Itadori? From what you’ve heard, Sukuna’s vessel is a quite skilled jujutsu sorcerer himself. But despite that, you know how much power Choso holds. If they meet, there will definitely be a fierce fight and your boyfriend might get hurt in the process.
But Yuji gets killed.
Suddenly water starts to soak into your shoes, pooling the surrounding area entirely. You furrow your brows. Where the hell is that coming from? Aren’t you underground? And also, it wasn’t raining outside…
Instinctively you follow the stream, noises growing louder and louder. Your heartbeat picks up, eyes wide open in realization. They have to be in there, in that toilet. The only think you are able to do is run. Water splashes around you, completely taking your already dimmed sight under the purple neon lights.
Until you see your boyfriend. Bending over the severely injured body of what looks like Yuji Itadori, fist ready to hit him with his last shot.
You don’t know what has gotten into you. Before you are able to even think about a plan you sprint forward and shield the boy’s body with your own.
Only to get hit in your stomach with full force by your own boyfriend.
For a moment you forget how to breathe, the only sound being the constant ringing in your ears along with a silent cough. Are you dead? You can’t tell with your sight completely turned black and your empty head.
“(y/n)”, is all Choso is able to breathe out.
It happened so fast he couldn’t react anymore. Within the split of a second, he was only able to direct his fist away from your head into your stomach.
Fuck.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
A trail of blood escapes your lips along with a cough, gaze completely empty. Did he kill you? His guts turn, he feels like fainting away. Oh god, what did he do?
“(y/n).”
You shouldn’t even be here in the first place. He told you to stay out of this, to leave this to him. Why on earth did you throw yourself in front of Yuji Itadori? How could you risk your life so reckless?
“(y/n)?”
You don’t react, glossy eyes wide open, directed into darkness. His shaky hands pull up your shirt, revealing a huge bruise. He broke a few of your ribs, that’s for sure.
“(y/n)!”, he begs again, repeating your name over and over like a prayer.
His hands grab your body and pull you away from Itadori while all he can do is kneeling next to you. Are you even breathing? Fuck, you are so cold and completely soaked in water that still pours down without mercy.
“(y/n)…”
His hand caresses your cheek gently. You just have to wake up. This is a bad dream, right? He didn’t just punch you with full force, he isn’t responsible for you laying here with broken bones and bruises. No, he didn’t just hurt the love of his life, his precious girlfriend.
Are those tears running down his cheeks? He can’t tell. The water pouring down on him makes it hard to see.
“Don’t…kill…him…”, you suddenly mumble.
Choso feels like flying and dying at the same time, relieved by hearing your voice while being absolutely crushed be the fact that he is responsible for your poor state.
“Why did you throw yourself in front of him, (y/n)? I never wanted to hurt you. I would have never hurt you…”, he stutters, pressing your upper body against his.
You cough violently, feeling as if your spilling your guts out every second. God, you feel terrible. If you move a single inch you’ll faint away into darkness.
But despite the pain that rolls over you like a tsunami, you force your eyes to look at him? His beautiful screwed up face, his glistening eyes. Is he crying? This might be the first time you’ve ever seen him like this.
“I know you didn’t wanted to hurt me. Did you kill him?”
Your voice isn’t more than a fade away whisper, almost too distant to get under the pouring water. But the second your words reach his ears, Choso can’t hold back any longer.
He’s crumbling in front of you like a piece of paper, hands holding onto you for dear life.
Choso almost killed you. The love of his life, the only thing that’s worth living. And for what? Because he was seeking revenge.
“But how does killing someone else solve your problems?”
Your wise words repeat themselves over and over in his head. Fuck, if he only listened to you. He shouldn’t have agreed to work with Geto in the first place out of sheer rage. No, he could lay in bed with you at the moment, hearing about what is currently happening at Shibuya in the news.
Then this wouldn’t have happened. Then you wouldn’t lay in front of him severely injured.
His whole face is screwed up, trembling fingers clenched to tight that they bleed while a sob escapes his lips.
All of this is his fault.
“I’m so sorry, (y/n). I’m so so sorry”, he cries out, placing his head on your chest.
“Is he dead?”, you croak out, tired eyes wandering to the boy’s unconscious figure leaning against the wall.
“Yes…Yes he does…”
A weak smile forms on your lips. So this wasn’t in vain. After all, you reached your goal.
“Thank god…”, you mutter.
Choso’s guilty conscience eats him up from the inside. Why? Why the hell did he think killing Yuji Itadori is a good idea in the first place? Despite the deaths of his brothers, despite all the pain he’s been through, despite the fact that he isn’t even human.
He loves you with all his heart. Your gentle disposition that is the opposite of his cold-hearted one. Your friendly smile that outshines his emotionless expression every time. The way you love him although he didn’t even know what love is when he first met you.
You showed him so many facets of life and he tramples on all the things you taught him.
“I will get you out of here. And I promise will every fiber of my being that I will change, that something like this will never happen again”, he blurts out.
“You don’t have to change, darling. You just need to decide on your perspective of life.”
Everything hurts, you feel like dying from the inside. Although you don’t seem to bleed externally, the stinging taste of blood in your mouth tells you you are severely injured. A load moan escapes your lips when Choso gently lifts you off the ground, body screaming out in agony.
With a gentle kiss on your forehead and tears still running down his cheeks. Something like this will never happen again. Not through the hands of others and especially not his.
God, never again will he ever hurt you.
Satoru Gojo
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Your fingers tremble uncontrollably as you try to figure out what you hold in your hands. Is this…positive?
Are you really pregnant?
Two lines. Two clearly visible lines. You feel like fainting and flying at the same time, your thoughts are racing.
Is this really happening? Are you dreaming?
No, the proof lies visible in your hands. You are pregnant. You are expecting a child with Satoru Gojo.
“Listen (y/n)…I’ve been thinking about this for a while now…Have you ever thought about having a baby? I mean, you’ve been my girlfriend for more than 6 years, my fiancé for half a year. I’ve never seen me as a father and I know this isn’t the best timing considering what’s going on in the word at the moment. But the thought of you with a precious baby belly, a child with your eyes…This thought filled me with so much joy recently that I wanted to talk about this with you.”
You couldn’t find words, his sudden outburst caught you off guard. But oh how much you thought about that too, how it would feel to have a child with the man you love more than anything else on this world, to start a family with Satoru. Tears started to sting your eyes, arms wrapped around him tightly.
“I would absolutely love that!”, you cried out, face buried against his broad chest while he stroked your hair just the way you like it.
“We don’t have to rush anything. Just living like usual without protection”, he mumbled against your head.
“I love you so much, Satoru. Nothing makes me happier than being with you. And maybe next year there will be three of us.”
He smiled down at you the way that always makes you see stars. God, how much you love that man. The thought alone to spend the rest of your life with him and your little family filled your heart with nothing buy warmth and joy.
“I love you too, sweetheart. More than anything else”, he mumbled.
Satoru. What are you supposed to do? Call him, text him, drive to Jujutsu High? You’re on your day off while he told you this morning that he’ll teach the new student, Yuta. As much as you’d love to get in your car immediately and meet him in person, you shouldn’t disturb him right now. No, this is something special. This needs time, a calm evening and privacy.
A little message can’t hurt though.
Hey babe, can’t wait to see you tonight. I’ve got some exciting news. Love you <3
You let out your shaky breath, eyes darting to the test again. Is this really your life? It surely can’t get any better than that.
-Satoru’s POV-
“I hate so say it, but I guess there’s no way out of this”, Shoko comments.
But there has to be. After all, he’s the strongest, he’s the only one who’s able to protect you right. This shouldn’t be the only way to save you, there has to be more.
“I will find a way around this”, Gojo hisses through gritted teeth, hands so tensed up that his veins pop out.
“You can’t. There’s absolutely no way to keep her save. She’ll insist on going with you if you tell her. And if you don’t she’ll find out and come to your place. Or worse, someone else will find her. She is the safest when she’s gone.”
Fuck. Satoru slams his fist against the table, blood squirting. He knows she’s right. Deep down, he is very aware of the fact that no matter how he twists and turns it, you’re in danger. Suguru made that very clear. He has to make a decision now, even if it breaks his own heart.
“So what’s the solution then, huh? Breaking up with her?”, he barks at Shoko.
“If you really want to make sure that she’s safe and gone, yes. Aren’t her parents living far away from here?”
That’s not what he wanted to hear. Thick rage crawls up his spine and takes his sight. He’ll kill all of them. Every single one of these curses and Suguru’s accomplices. This shouldn’t be the only way, he shouldn’t have to break the heart of the women he loves most.
Fuck, how much he hates to see you cry. Just a few days ago, he told you that he wanted to have kids with you, to start a family, he proposed to you. This will not only break your heart, but shatter you into million pieces.
“I get that it’s rough and that you don’t wanna do it. But if you want to make sure that (y/n) is safe, you have to make her believe that it’s over.”
“What if I’m hiding her somewhere at Jujutsu High? What if I’m staying by her side?”
“She’ll never allow that and you know it. (y/n) would rather die herself than letting other people suffer because you aren’t there.”
She’s right. Deep down Satoru knows that every word Shoko says is true.
- Later that evening –
You almost fall off the couch in excitement when you hear keys turning in the lock. He’s finally home! It must have been a pretty rough day if he wasn’t even able to reply to your text. Your fingers hold onto the test in your hands for dear life, heart jumping up and down in joy. How will he react? Will he laugh, will he cry? You don’t know. But he’ll surely be cheerful.
“Hey babe, I need to talk about something with you!”
The sound of your joyful voice alone makes him want to break down. Fuck, you don’t deserve this, none of this is your fault at all. So why does he have to break your heart so violently? He shakes his head, blindfold covering his already glossy eyes. There’s no way out of this. He needs to hurt you in order to save you.
“Oh, there you are”, you breathe out when you catch a glimpse of him.
Satoru looks as breathtaking as always, albeit a little drained. It must have been a rough day for him. But your news will definitely brighten up his mood.
“Babe, there’s something absolutely exciting I have to tell y-“
“(y/n)”.
The harsh tone in his voice quiets you down immediately, the grin on your face washed away in the wind.
“I have something to talk about”, he announces.
Why does he have to be so cold? What has gotten into him? Worry lines disrupt your face.
“Oh, did something happen?”
The innocent tone in your voice kills him right on the spot along with your stunning glimmering orbs…No, he needs to do this. After all it’s for your well-being. You’ll see that too, hopefully.
“I’m breaking up with you.”
You hold your breath, eyes scanning over his stunning face for any hint of sarcasm, for an emotion. But no, all he does is staring down at you with stone cold orbs, arms crossed in front of his chest.
You feel like fainting, world collapsing around you. No, this can’t be true. He can’t be serious. Not long ago, he told you he wants a child with you, he asked you to marry him. Your heart clenches, tears start glistering in your eyes. This has to be a nightmare.
“No”, you breathe out, shaking your head in disbelief.
“I’m breaking up with you, (y/n)”, he insists.
This isn’t a joke or a dream. You can tell that he’s serious, that he means every word he says.
“Why?”
“I don’t love you anymore.”
You can’t believe your ears.
“Just yesterday, you told me over and over how much you love me, you…you had sex with me, Satoru. Just a few hours ago.”
You can’t stop your tears from falling anymore, the feeling of this indescribable loss pulls the ground from under your feet.
“It meant nothing to me.”
His words hit you with full force, pushing you to sit down in order to not collapse onto the floor. Was all of this a game for him? And what about…?
Oh god, you feel like throwing up.
“I’m pregnant, Satoru.”
His heart stops. Your voice isn’t more than a fade whisper, almost too low for him to understand. Did you really just say that?
“What did you say?”
“I’m pregnant!”, you suddenly scream on top of your lungs.
Pregnant… You’re pregnant. You’re expecting his child, the child he told you he wants. You’ll be family! This is absolutely fantastic, you have to celebrate-
No. Satoru stops the seed of joy in his heart immediately. Now is not the right time for that. After all, he’s about to break up with you at the moment.
“I don’t care.”
His word cut through his very own heart like a knife, your face twisted in agony simply takes his breath away. You don’t deserve this, you don’t deserve any of those venomous words he spits at you. But he does it so you are safe. Yes, over and over he tells himself that this is for your best, that at least you’ll be out of the firing line. You’ll be safe and sound, you and his unborn child.
“Leave this place, stay with your parents or something. I don’t want to see you here any longer.”
In this moment, you feel like dying. Your past, present and future plays itself in front of your inner eye, reminding you of all the precious moments together. Was all of this a lie? Does he even care about you?
Like in trance you get up, grabbing nothing but your wallet and phone. You need to get away from here before you break down completely. If this is how he feels, he doesn’t deserve to see your grief.
God, he wants to break down in front of your feet, completely mesmerized by the way you carry yourself so well after his harsh words. Hopefully you will understand that he did this for you. Even though he broke your heart, you’ll live. And this is all that matters…
“Goodbye then, Gojo.”
The venomous sound of his last name out of your mouth makes him collapse onto the couch the second you close the door behind your back, tears glistening in his eyes.
Why? Why on earth did this just happen? Why did he have to hurt you like this? God, please let you understand it when all of this madness is over. Please let you be okay…
- Day of the night parade –
“Oh dear, look at this”, your mother breathes out while turning up the TV volume.
You gaze at the flickering pictures without any emotions, dark circles surrounding your eyes from all the nights without any sleep.
Satoru? You haven’t heard a word from him since that evening. That evening that altered your brain chemistry forever. That evening that showed you his real face. Since you’ve had nowhere else to go and wanted to be as far away from him as possible, you stayed with your parents ever since.
“What is going on at Tokyo?”, your father mutters.
Huh, looks like absolute chaos. Your eyes widen at the sheer amount of destruction, the reporter whose head gets ripped away by…
Your heart sinks.
This was a curse, without any doubt. What about Satoru?
No. You shake your head vehemently. This isn’t about him. What about your students, Nanami, Shoko, all the others? Are they okay? What is going on there? Suddenly you feel like standing up, too excited to sit.
You swore to never step a foot into Jujutsu High again, to start over somewhere else. But this…You can’t just sit here in silence with all your powers while your friends might die through the hands of curses.
“I need to leave”, you announce.
“What? But you said you want to stay here. (y/n), if this is about him…-“
“It’s not”, you interrupt your mother immediately.
“I need to watch after my friends.”
Yes. Screw Satoru and whatever he’s up to. Mindlessly your hands caress your little bump. This is your responsibly, the least you can do.
- At Toyko –
“Gojo-sensei, (y/n) is here”, Maki announces through her communicator as you walk through the barrier with ease.
Impossible.
His eyes widen in pure horror. All this pain and grieving over the last few weeks, all the nights he cried himself to sleep because he missed you, the countless thinking about your precious little baby.
And now you’re right here where you shouldn’t be, running into the arms of Suguru without even knowing it.
“Oh, I didn’t expect he’d be so dumb”, a painful familiar voice behind you suddenly speaks out.
You turn around, taking in the appearance of none other than Suguru Geto.
“Are you responsible for this whole mess?”, you question.
He steps forward, a satisfied grin plastered on his face. Fuck, this isn’t good. Suguru is a special grade, he could kill you without even trying. Are your students around? Maybe they are at Tokyo, maybe they are safe.
“Did Satoru send you here? Apparently he doesn’t care about you”, Suguru’s voice comments dryly.
Your heart immediately stings in agony, fingertips trembling. Just a few innocent words that break you completely after weeks of pretending you’re okay.
“He broke up with me a few weeks ago”, you clarify.
Suguru breaks out in hysteric laughter while all you can do is stare at him and hold back your tears. How is he able to laugh about your feelings? Before he went berserk, you and Suguru got along pretty well. What happened to him?
“3 weeks ago, maybe?”
You tilt your head. Why that question? And why…why is he so accurate?
“Yeah”, you mutter.
“How ironic.”
“What’s so funny about that, asshole”, you bite back.
His figure comes to a stand so close to you that you can feel his breath creeping across your face.
“It’s funny that he tried to save you and now you’re standing right in front of me, (y/n).”
His words pull the ground from beneath your feet, thoughts racing so violently that you feel like throwing up. What did he say about Satoru trying to save you? What is all of this about? You lose your cool completely.
“What the hell are you talking about?”, you yell into his stupid smirk.
“I gave him an ultimatum. But now that you’re here already…Let’s get this over with.”
You aren’t able to properly understand a single word as he hounds a curse your direction.
“Why are you even here?”
Where is Satoru? What is going on here? Where are your students? So many unknown variables, so much pressure. You need answers.
“I’m here to kill Yuta Okkotsu.”
Your heart sinks immediately. Yuta? Suguru is probably on the hunt for Rika. No, you can’t let him get away with this.
“Over. My. Corpse.”, you hiss through gritted teeth.
“Oh dear (y/n). I always liked your charm, but nothing better than that.”
It’s hard to keep up with him without any weapon. Where is your dagger when you need it? You only have your powers and your combat skills to attack him. But Suguru isn’t dumb. It’s almost frightening, the way he keeps distance between both of you.
Your baby. Fuck, you need to be careful. After all, stress isn’t beneficial for your pregnancy.
And dying too.
-Satoru’s POV-
He runs as fast as his feet carry him, vision clouded by thick fear. He did all of this for you, to keep you out of grip for Suguru. And now you’re facing him alone, his students not able to help you. What about the baby? He needs to hurry. If Suguru harms one single hair on your head…
“Get away from her. Now”, he barks at his former best friend, positioning himself in front of you just in time before one of Suguru’s curses hits you.
“Ironic, isn’t it? That you even scarified your relationship only for her to run into my open arms.”
“I never thought you would go this far. She’s not only a jujutsu sorcerer, but my girlfriend. I thought you are better than that. Keep your hands off her or you’ll regret it.”
All you can do is stare at his broad back with tears glistening in your eyes. Is this why he broke up with you three weeks ago and left you alone pregnant? To keep you out of sight from Geto?
“Leave this place, stay with your parents or something.”
These three weeks of torture, of asking yourself over and over why you weren’t good enough and where you went wrong…because he was worried?
“Why didn’t you fucking tell me?”, you cry out, slamming your fists against his back over and over.
“Why did you just leave me like that? Why did you not leave me any choice? Why would you leave me standing in the rain pregnant? Why did you do this to me-“
“(y/n)”, he interrupts you, glossy eyes darted at you in a way you’ve never seen before.
Satoru grabs your hands and pulls you closer to him.
“Because I couldn’t stand you getting hurt”, he breathes out.
“Because I knew you wouldn’t watch out for yourself. Because I knew this was the only way to keep you safe, even though it meant breaking both of his into pieces. Trust me, I hated myself every single day over the last three weeks, wondering every miserable second how you’re doing. It made me lose my mind, (y/n). And now you’re here, right here where you shouldn’t be.”
“I’ve got hurt the second you broke up with me just after I’ve told you that I’m expecting your child!”, you scream into his face.
All the pain, the grief, the longing, the waiting. Everything crushes down at you and swallow you whole. All of this was in vain.
“I never stopped loving you, (y/n). On the contrary, my love for you is greater than my longing after you.”
For the first time since you’ve met him, you can see him cry. Tears roll down his face uncontrollably, the ocean blue of his eyes disrupted by rough red.
“I don’t mean to interrupt your little moment here, but now that you’re already here, I can kill you, right?”
As if in slow motion Satoru turns around to his former best friends, hands clenched into fists so tightly that blood spills.
“I will make you pay for every tear (y/n) spilled, for these weeks of torture. You will regret your threat for every single fucking day.”
“Let’s get it on, then”, Geto remarks dryly.
...
Hope you're doing fine. If you're still able to, feel free to tell me whenever you want a part ll of this and with you. Thank youu <3
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