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#yea this is what the show is about if you haven't seen it

s4lv4tions · 8 months

Text

numerology; nsfw

pairing; gojo satoru x reader / gojo satoru x geto suguru (past) / geto suguru x reader (past) summary; numerology — the belief in an occult, divine or mystical relationship between a number and one or more coinciding events. or: trying to move on. wc; 13.4k cw; death, angst, requited unrequited love, violence, smut (at the very end, but mentions throughout), canon divergence, spoilers for manga an; if you think you've read this before, you probably have! i posted this on my old tumblr a year or so ago, and it's still available on my ao3. this version is slightly updated and edited, but still diverges from canon as it was created at the start of the culling games arc :)

The first time you bathe with Satoru, he cries.

You don't notice at first; he's quiet — abnormally so —, and his face remains pristine, unchanged. The only hint you get is a small, barely audible sniffle that stops as quickly as it starts — and you think he wants it that way. You don't think he's ever cried in front of anyone.

That's why you don't say anything. Just continue washing the suds from his hair, and pretend that the tears rolling down his cheeks are beads of water dripping from his hair — but you take extra care to massage the conditioner in, and peck his cheek as you finger-comb through silky, cloud-white strands.

It occurs to you afterwards — as he lounges on your bed, scrolling through channels with a wayward hand planted on his stomach — that perhaps, it's the first time somebody has taken care of him. The first time ever, or just the first time since… since…

Geto Suguru's face smiles up at you from your vanity — a tiny polaroid, his face no bigger than the nail of your thumb. Beside him, Satoru grins, cheeky and bright-eyed — you don't think he's ever been any different —, and in the corner, the smudge of your thumb covers the lens. You don’t have to lift the photo and check the back to know what’s written there, in your scratchy, looping scrawl; the strongest, 2006.

"Lord of the Rings?" Satoru calls, carefree as ever. A yawn catches in his throat, and his fingers slip underneath his shirt to scratch absentmindedly at his chest. "Ooh, haven't seen this one yet…"

"Uh, yeah. Sure."

It was a better time. Less pain. Less responsibility. Less death — or maybe the same amount, just shielded by the blinding cover of childhood inexperience. Suguru was still alive and burning bright, Satoru was happy (happier. He didn't cry in the bath, at least). Shoko didn’t self-medicate as intensively as she does now. The days were spent in childish ignorance and stupid indulgence, and even when things seemed their darkest, you never lost hope.

(It probably says a lot about you that, if given the chance, you wouldn't return. Whether that's because of what you know is bound to happen, and the pain is too much to experience again, or because you're so utterly pathetic that you'll take sadness and grief and a tiny shred of affection over… whatever it is you were back then, you don't know. A smudge in the corner of a picture of the jujutsu world's greatest.)

Suguru's eyes seem to burn into you. You turn the picture over, and rejoin Satoru on your bed.

"It's been two years."

Satoru doesn't like to talk after sex. Not in any way that's really meaningful, you mean, nothing that lets you in. He loves jokes, empty small talk, work politics. Chatter that's deep enough to show he cares a little without bearing any part of himself — your injury healed up? When was the last time you had a break? There's a new teppanyaki place in Shinjuku, I'll treat you. Don't work yourself too hard, you'll put me out of business!

If you're being honest, you didn't go into this expecting anything more than a person to scratch an itch with.

You're already friends — though, you're not sure friends totally encapsulates what Satoru is to you, romantic or platonic. You've been friends since you were 12. Satoru, Suguru, you — and then Shoko, when you all met in your first year at Jujutsu Tech. That's how it's always been.

You swear sometimes you know him better than yourself. You swear sometimes it's his voice you think with. Is that what "friends" encompasses? Somehow, it doesn't seem enough.

Whatever. The point is that your relationship with Satoru is already strong; foundations tall and proud and unshakeable. You didn't start fucking Satoru in the hopes of forming a relationship — one was already there.

It's just... Satoru is young, yes, and he enjoys flirting, but (contrary to common belief) he's not all that keen to sleep with the first person who's willing. You don’t say this with the belief that you’re special. It’s just that with work, and especially with — y'know, his… romantic history, Satoru hasn’t found the time or will to just sleep around. At least, according to him.

Sheer willpower isn't enough to make those urges go away, though, and… well, you had them too, and you were willing, and he trusts you. And you'll take anything he'll give you, really, even if it's just scraps. Even if sometimes it makes you feel worse.

Today's one of those days.

You feel sick, after. Not because of him — because of yourself. Your polaroid of Getou and any other photo he's in has been turned over, anything that could remind you of him tucked away, but — but he's everywhere today, everywhere, and you'd fucked Satoru despite it. And Satoru is covered in memories of Getou, of course. Every freckle, every shifting of muscle, every jut of bone — did Getou touch him here? Caress every bit of him he could get his hands on? Tangle his hands in his snow-white hair, breathe against his collarbone?

When you came, you cried. Pretended it was just because it was so intense, but behind your eyelids, dark, cat-like eyes stared back.

"Hm?" Satoru hums as if he didn't hear you, eyes fixed on the TV. Dumb doesn't suit him — it's honestly a bit of an insult for him to even try it. Like you didn't sense the stiffness of his limbs the second he'd stepped inside, or the crumbling edge of his smile, or the way he'd forced you to love him harder — pull his hair harder, scratch his back deeper, his Infinity turned off and his skin yours for the marking.

Satoru's mannerisms are scribed into your brain. You catch yourself emulating them, sometimes; hands waving, head tilting, grin wide and posture open. You wear it like an oversized coat, an ill-fitting costume, and sometimes you wish you could stop taking on pieces of him. The more you take, the more you must throw away — and it's Suguru that your memory discards. You find yourself forgetting how he hummed when he woke up from a nap, or filled his cheeks with food like a hamster; how he scrunched his face up when he laughed, pretty all the while…

The point is that even with his incredible knowledge, his awesome strength, the sheer holiness of his existence — you know Satoru. And the fact that he came to you today isn't mere coincidence.

You decide to come out with it. You've tiptoed around it for 24 months, give or take, had a shockingly brief mourning period before the jujutsu world forced you along, and… even with what he did, Suguru deserves better. "Suguru died today."

A beat of silence. Then:

"Mm, I guess he did."

You'd spent the day staring out at the grey sky, the miserable sight of soaked pavement. Grey, grey, grey. Concrete jungle. Heavy rain clouds and an ocean of multicoloured umbrellas, bobbing and rolling to destinations unknown. You hadn't said it aloud; hadn't even thought of it, specifically. The knowledge of it had just sat over your head like a thick, sweltering fog — and if you know Satoru at all, you know that he'd done the same. Maybe he hid it better.

You don't have to look now to know that his lips are pressed thin. You find the sudden thought of looking him in the eyes daunting, anyways, so you turn onto your side, back facing him, and pick mindlessly at the sheets. You don't want to see what his reaction will be when you say—

"Did you know that I loved him — back then?"

You don't want to see the shock, or the confusion — and you'd rather not see a lack of them, either. What's worse, you wonder — him knowing and loving Suguru too, or not knowing and loving him?

"...Yes."

You screw your eyes shut and try to will away the sudden surge of cold, like a sharpened dagger to your chest.

(It turns out that knowing is much more painful.)

Suguru Geto had been the apple of your eye ever since you'd met. 11 and gangly and stupid in a way that all children were always stupid, Suguru had been a bit kinder than his white-haired counterpart. Satoru, being Satoru Gojo, had grown up with no fear of authority, no mindfulness for his less-powerful peers as anything more than people who existed around him. You and Suguru were allowed the title of friends, but very few were. Anyway — he grew out of that mindset, of course, but your fondness for Suguru stayed.

(Though they'd always seemed to be on another level than you — not even just in terms of power, but… just caught up in each other, always. Suguru had only ever wanted Satoru. And vice versa.)

And then Suguru changed. Right under your nose, he changed, and his sudden quietness made sense. His fatigue. The way his hands would always shake when swallowing an exorcised curse, always had since you were kids, and then suddenly they were ingested with a scary calm. Nobody understands the taste of curses. Not even you, not even when he’d explained it in sickening detail.

You sigh, then. Tired and lethargic and not from physically straining yourself for an hour. This is bone-deep, soul-weary. It's been held in for 730 days, or maybe more. Maybe you've carried it with you since birth. "I never apologised."

"For what?" Satoru asks — and he laughs, jolly, and the sound fits awkwardly in his throat. A clear attempt at feigning indifference, but he's a bad liar. He always has been, because he's never needed to lie. Perks of being the strongest, you guess. You can just come out and say shit — and if you can't, not saying anything technically isn’t lying.

"I hated you, after," you confess. You dig your thumbnail hard intoyour pinky finger, taking momentary refuge in the sharp shock of pain. "I couldn't stand to look at you. When I did, I saw… I saw what you did. What you had, and what you had thrown away. I blamed you for Suguru. I blamed everyone except Suguru."

Another snicker, a bit too humourless. "You can't stand to look at me now."

"I…" You don't know what to say to that.

Truth is, you don't want to see his face. Contorted in pity, or disgust, or sadness for you. You've gotten used to living in his shadow — most everyone has — but that doesn’t ease the ever-present blanket of insecurity that you carry around your shoulders. It doesn’t dull the ache of inferiority you’ve been housing in your chest from the moment you were saddled with your technique. As you aged, you got better at hiding it, and you generally prefer your self-pity to go unnoticed, but Satoru—

He could always read you like a book. And you hated it. You hated being pitied by someone who was as powerful as him — someone as close to God as one could get. It was demeaning. Patronising. It makes you feel like a child again, bowing your head as your mother makes excuses for you.

You shift over — onto your back, and then onto your other side — and you look at him. You force yourself. Blankets pooled around his waist, his skin so pale it could be translucent, eyes icy blue and framed with fluffy white.

"You were forced to do it," you murmur. Your eyes remain trained on his chin — his are much too bright, much too all-seeing for comfort. "If you hadn't, he would've gotten worse. He never would have stopped. You knew that, you always did. It… took me a while to come to terms with it."

Satoru sighs. Then, he slumps down so that — like you — his head rests flat on the pillow, and his body arcs towards yours. He's forced himself into your sights again, in a way that’s gentle, but not so much that you wouldn't be able to figure out what he's doing: forcing you to face him.

"Would it have made you feel better," Satoru begins, reaching forward to brush his fingers against your chin, "if you were there when I did it?"

Would it have?

Would it have given you closure? Would you no longer spend your nights wondering what he'd looked like, what his last words were, his last thoughts? If he had spittled and roared in anger, if he had wept in fear, if he had attempted a smile, a joke? If he thought of you, or if you were just another insignificant blip in his radar?

In your mind, Suguru exists as his 17 year old self — smiling and mischievous, polite yet humorous. He puts extra broccoli on your plate and gently berates you to eat more. He tells you that you're a precious part of the team, that none of them would be who they are without you. He calls you crybaby because you always wear your heart on your sleeve, and tells you not to worry about things you cannot change.

Change what you can. Forget the rest and leave it to me, crybaby.

The bubbling hatred that had festered inside him has no place in your head. You want him to stay as he is, your Suguru that was never yours, shining like gold in your mind.

"No. He hated me at the end, I think," you say quietly. For a second, you dare to meet his eyes — bright and pointed in how they stare at you. You know he can see the tears that have begun to burn in your waterline, the way you ball your fists so hard you dig half-moon into your skin. He doesn’t need to be blessed with the Six Eyes to see.

"I wasn't interested in changing the world like he was, even with my Technique. That made him despise me, I think."

Satoru stares for a few more seconds. You wonder what he's thinking about. A second in your time is a lifetime in Satoru's; he must be thinking hard.

But he blinks, at last; sighs so deeply that his chest caves in with it, before he winds an arm around your waist and pulls you close, bare chest to bare chest, only atomic space between you.

There's nothing sexual about it. You're nothing but bones and skin and blood, here. He moulds your head to his shoulder with one large hand and cocoons you in his embrace, warm. Protected. You're not sure who the action is meant to comfort.

And just when you think the conversation is over — just when minutes have passed with nothing but the sound of the TV between you both — he speaks.

"Suguru could never hate you. Trust me."

You don't want to know what that means. You're only beginning to get over it, two years later.

Satoru is holding three onigiri in one hand, and two Starbucks' cups in the other — extra sugar, extra cream, extra ice, extra unicorn-marketing, just the way you both like it.

"There she is!" Is the first thing he says as he meets you just outside the metro, grinning.

It's sweltering hot today — the sun had risen early and would surely set late, and Satoru seems to be taking advantage of it. Gone is his Jujutsu Tech uniform and thick blindfold, but he's stuck with the all-black theme like he usually does — black jeans, black linen shirt, black socks and shoes. Even the frames of his sunglasses are black.

(Handsome. He's handsome. He's always been handsome — years later, you'd think you'd stop feeling the effects of it.)

Lucky for him. You're not, y'know, the strongest sorcerer in the last century, so there's no leeway for you — and even in your summer uniform, the skirt and short-sleeved blouse, you're sweating. Your only respite is that the combined force of you and Satoru will mean this mission is going to be a breeze.

Satoru tsks. "Took your time. I almost ate your onigiri."

A man nearby jogs past, clearly in a rush, and Satoru has to step closer to you to avoid him. He could've stayed still. He wouldn't have touched him, anyway, with his Limitless.

"And you would've had to buy another, genius."

A pout. "You only love me for my bank account, don't you?"

(He's joking. It's a joke.

But your hand shakes — a miniscule tremor — as you reach out to take one of the cups, and you know he sees it because he's Satoru and he sees everything. You turn away as quickly as you can, setting off in the direction of whatever place it is you're here for, and pretend that the fact that he can say it so casually doesn't kinda fucking hurt.

(He could never say it like that with Suguru — so bluntly, so crassly. Not without softened eyes and softened smiles and a gentle tilt of his head — those are mannerisms reserved only for him, never to be seen again. Instead, you get snickers and digs in the arm and teasing pulls of your hair. Of course it’s a joke. That’s all you are.

Perhaps you should just be grateful for what you get. Perhaps you should try to stop comparing yourself to a man you once loved. Perhaps you should try to stop comparing yourself to a dead man. Perhaps, in the end, you just love the pain of it all.))

"Yeah," you reply, taking a large, sugary sip. "And don't you forget it, either."

Satoru catches up to you quickly, effortlessly; his arm flops around your shoulder as he tugs you in the opposite direction, chastising you for going the wrong way — but it stays there long after it needs to.

Itadori Yuuji — Sukuna's dead-but-not-really vessel — thinks your cursed technique is powerful. He thinks it’s amazing that you can use reverse cursed technique — you must be really powerful, right? Gojo-sensei says you’re special grade. He also thinks you're very pretty. He tells you this over his fourth grilled pork belly wrap — this one bursting at the seams with kimchi, garlic, and roasted sesame seeds.

He doesn't say it in a flirtatious way — it's just an observation to him, simple and blunt, and you figure he has about as much of a filter as Satoru does.

"O-oh," you say, metal tongs frozen over the sizzling meat. "Thank you, Yuuji."

You had briefly met him for the first time before his death — Nobara, too. Megumi, the third piece of the golden trio, has been something of a little brother ever since Satoru had taken him in, and you know him well enough to know that Yuuji's death (or lack thereof) is weighing on him terribly.

(There are too many parallels you could make. Suguru and Satoru. Haibara and Nanami.)

Hiding it does make you feel guilty. To experience that grief, that loss — even if it will soon go away when Yuuji rejoins jujutsu society — isn’t something to take lightly. But Yuuji needs a guide that isn’t completely off the rails. Satoru and you balance each other out, and balance seems to be something Yuuji needs.

He reminds you terribly of Satoru when he was younger. Maybe that's why you have such a fond spot for him — he's too goofy and well-meaning and genuine to dislike.

"Why are you acting surprised?" Gripes Satoru, chewing with his mouth open. "I tell you that all the time."

Your eyes narrow. You place a perfectly cooked slice of marinated beef on his plate. "You're you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" He whines. "We're best friends, crybaby!"

"You don't say I'm powerful. You say I'm helpful. There's a difference. And don’t call me that."

"Is there?" Satoru asks, turning to Yuuji for guidance. The teen boy shrugs, preoccupied by assembling his newest monstrosity. "I call you pretty, too."

"Yeah, when—"

When you're eight inches deep in me, face buried in my neck, trying to get yourself off. Your cheeks flush with warmth at the thought, and you shut your mouth. Yuuji doesn't notice your slip up, busy as he is; Satoru does completely, and fixes you with a grin so sharp that you vow to not give him any more meat until Yuuji is completely full.

"It's not the same," you say, voice final. It's a lighthearted lunch. You don't want to ruin it by getting touchy over semantics, and that's exactly what'll happen if you keep going. "You say it to reward me. Like tossing a dog a bone."

You reach for the scissors to snip the meat into little pieces — and in doing so, you miss the brief frown that presses against Satoru's brow.

Neither of you say anything more on the matter.

Satoru has known you for five years when he realises that he resents you. Not completely, and not for one particular or solid reason, either. He prefers not to think about it, in any case, because you're one of his closest friends — and even at 17, he knows that that's hard to come by. Especially as the Strongest.

Satoru stares up at his ceiling; stares at the miniature striations only he can see, the starburst-shaped gyrations of clay used to finish it off.

Tonight, he's thinking about it. And many other things.

He hates that you're so hesitant about everything — he hates that you believe yourself so weak that you have to tiptoe. You, with your reverse cursed technique — which is a feat in and of itself — that could transcend time and space, just like he could. A technique passed down for hundreds and hundreds of years, accumulating power all the while…

(Your technique has lots of rules and regulations, of course. A handicap, and he understands it frustrates you, but his own frustration eclipses his understanding. Why should someone so strong feel anything but their own strength?)

He hates that you curl in on yourself when you're sad, or lonely, or angry. He hates that you wear your heart on your sleeve — he's never allowed himself to, not fully. He can't, never fully, because there are people who are watching him, people who hate him, people who want him dead. He can joke. He can make his political desires clear — but he can’t love like he wants to, and God forbid he cries.

He hates that you close your eyes and bask when it's sunny, like a cat in a sunspot; hates that you remember that he doesn't like chicken wings and prefers thighs; he especially hates that you watch over Suguru like it's your job, when Suguru doesn't need it.

And some part of Satoru hates Suguru, too. It was strange for him to come to terms with it, fond of him as he is, but as he grows Satoru realises that there's no love of his that isn't closely affiliated with hate. It makes the love all the more strong.

Satoru, for one, dislikes how polite Suguru is, even when he doesn't need to be. He hates that Suguru becomes a straight-faced, unfeeling thing when he's upset, and tries to hide it — the emptiness in his eyes unsettles him like nothing else.

Most of all, above all, Satoru hates that Suguru loves you, crybaby, and is too pussy to do shit about it. Satoru doesn't understand why, anyways, because he'd made it clear that if he wanted, Suguru could have you both and Satoru wouldn't care. Usually, the thought would offend him. How can you love someone when you already love me? When you've already sworn yourself to me? You already have the strongest, who else do you need?

But… he doesn't know. He kinda understands. You're precious to him, too, after all, sunflower soaking up the sun.

Like he said: there's no love of his that isn’t closely affiliated with hate.

Six and a half hours after the hours-long meeting that followed the ruined School Goodwill Event, you find yourselves in a diner somewhere in Harajuku. It’s one of those weird fusion places, loaning ornamentation and tokens from classic American diners, serving omurice with fries, sushi with mashed potatoes, with a cute little mascot that looks like Elvis. It’s loud enough and bright enough to make you feel timeless. It's a sensation you can appreciate.

Something’s been telling you that time’s ticking, and you’re not quite sure what it is. Trauma, probably. Anxiety. The fact that curses have been banding together, learning spoken language, amassing power — planning an attack on Jujutsu Tech, gaining intelligence, gaining anger.

Satoru doesn’t say it — doesn’t want to say it — but you think it’s unnerved him, too. The last time outsiders entered school grounds was… two years ago, wasn’t it? It’s crazy. Everything always seems to lead back to Suguru.

The attack has fueled something in both of you, anyways; something that makes you both stay up instead of knocking out like you usually do; something that makes you both hungry and restless and liable to travel across Tokyo past midnight. By public transport, no less. No warping or high-speed flying for you, tonight.

But you appreciate it. And you think that Satoru is taking things slow for the same reasons you want to — to take things in, to appreciate what you never think to appreciate. To admire the mundane, even for a little while. Satoru’s less emotionally attached to the jujutsu-less aspects of life than you are — bullet trains and waiting in line and standing on the train platform, escalators and traffic — but he enjoys them all the same when he has time to. And it’s not often The Strongest gets to experience pure, genuine normality, too, so maybe sitting in this gaudy diner and watching the world pass you by is a luxury he rarely affords himself.

He orders the most complicated drink they have — a sakura-caramel milkshake topped with whipped cream, glacé cherries, and an entire slice of cheesecake. He’s down to the last dregs of melting cream within 10 minutes, swiping fries from your plate between sips, ignoring your chides of rotten teeth and high blood sugar.

Blindfold swapped for glasses. Strands of hair drifting down against his forehead.

You’re always reminded at the worst times of how handsome he is. It’s not like it’s a secret, or he’s unaware of it — and he takes pride in his looks, if his extensive skincare shelf and general attitude is anything to go by — but he puts much more stock in his strength, in his usefulness to others, his intelligence. The things he can provide for others. Not many people realise that.

Maybe you shouldn’t act so high and mighty. It’s not like you don’t appreciate his appearance as much as the next person — hell, half the time you’re trying to stop it from distracting you — but maybe you get a pass. Y’know, as a person who actually has reason to marvel over the stretch of his neck and the flush of his cheeks and how his lips go the prettiest pink when you kiss him. Or the cords of muscle along his arms; the slender-yet-thick bands of muscle of his chest and legs. The large, veiny expanse of hand — slim, delicate fingers wrapped around a paper straw…

"Are you gonna eat those?" Says Satoru, slurping obnoxiously. “Haven't eaten since dinner."

You push the basket across the table, uncharacteristically void of argument. "Go crazy."

Satoru sets his empty glass aside, but the straw remains in one hand. The other he uses to pluck up fries, 4 or 5 at a time, his gaze suddenly fixed on you as he chews nonchalantly.

"Y'know," he says, licking salt from his fingertips, jabbing the straw in your direction, "I can always tell when you're horny."

"Excuse me?"

"You squirm," Satoru continues — matter-of-fact, casual, as if he's talking about the weather. "And you get quiet.”

“I’m a quiet person,” you snap, nails pressing against your palms under the table. “Sorry I know when to shut the fuck up—”

“And then you get flustered. And when you’re flustered, or embarrassed, you get angry.” He raises his hand — signals the cute waitress for another basket of fries, and leans back with his arms splayed along the back of the booth. “Don’t look so surprised! How long have we known each other?”

If you were a better person, you’d probably admit that yes, he’s right. You do get quiet when you’re horny, and you do get angry when you’re flustered — if you were a worse person, though, you’d remark on how you're the first person he crawls to when he’s sad, or overwhelmed. How getting you into bed and losing yourselves in each other is a sort of therapy for him. How he always tries to distract you with cheeky grins and sly, flirty comments, but then afterwards he cries in the bath as you clean him up.

You don't say that, obviously. Seems like a pretty shitty thing to bring up today of all days. He'd probably deny it anyways, but you don't think it's a coincidence that the attack has left him restless and he obviously wants to take you home.

The new fries are delivered to the table, but he looks right past them. He bows his head slightly, glasses slipping a little further down his nose so that his white-framed eyes peek over the top of them.

"Let's warp home," Satoru says — and oh. There's that voice. That drop in tone, that lack of boisterous humour he always employs. It's soft enough to have goosebumps rising on the back of your arms, smooth enough to have you squirming — yes, squirming, you admit it — in your seat. "Alright?"

"Yes." And it's embarrassingly breathless, and embarrassingly quick, but Satoru doesn't tease you. Just smiles, raises a hand for the bill, and watches you all the while.

You count seven stitches in the forehead of Geto Suguru.

Count, because it's all you can do. Everything else is lost to you.

Breathing.

Standing.

It feels like even your heart has stalled. Because—

Because—

Because Geto Suguru is dead. Dead, in the ground, no longer breathing, no longer living. Satoru had killed him. Satoru had demolished him.

The lips of the Geto in front of you twist — a sickening, stomach-turning imitation of the smile you once adored. On his face it's a sneer, a mockery. Your Suguru did not smile like this when you knew him.

"Hello," he greets pleasantly. His arms are hidden within the sleeves of his yukata. Hair down. Suguru always tended to wear his hair up, unless he was fresh out of the shower. Unless he was upset. It was too much hassle to take care of. You know when he took over the Time Vessel Association and donned the gojo-kesa he began wearing it down. "_____ _____, yes?"

You can't answer. Your ears are ringing. Your stomach gives a worrying lurch that winds up your throat — you think you're going to be sick.

How? Why? Who — who is this in front of you? Because it's not Geto, not Suguru — and you don't say that because of longing or a pathetic desire for ignorance. This thing feels wrong. Inherently, blasphemously wrong. Looking at him for too long makes your cursed energy prickle. Seeing Suguru's image painted in such slimy, rancid energy has you gasping for breath.

Satoru, your mind whispers. Satoru needs to know.

He should. He needs to. But this pseudo-Geto does not look friendly in the slightest, and you are isolated.

Looking back, it had seemed fine to go alone to exorcise curses in the belly of Tokyo's metro. Taking old service tunnels and eventually entering abandoned tracks hadn't felt scary. You're a semi-special grade sorcerer with years of experience under your belt and a powerful cursed technique that could get you out of most, if not all, pinches, restrictions and regulations be damned.

"I'm sure you're very confused. I apologise, really…"

The reality of the situation hits you. Maybe hit is the wrong word — it doesn’t come as a bloody, stinging smack in the face. It’s a trickle of ice-cold water down the nape of your neck, drawing dread from your head all the way into the pit of your stomach. You don't think this is a pinch you'll come out of — at least not battered half to death, especially when a silver-haired curse decorated with stitches steps out from behind pseudo-Geto. The curse Kento had fought. The one that he said to look out for. Patchwork.

Immediately, you know fighting isn't an option. But what else is there to do, in the face of pseudo-Geto and his silver-haired, sentient curse? Your technique may not be limitless in your possession, but in theirs? If they did to you what they did to so many others — transfiguring you past the point of recognition, stealing your body and technique, desecrating your corpse with cursed energy…

"I can feel it from here," titters the curse excitedly. "So warm… I have to have it! Her soul, I have to have it!"

Fuck.

You could try to escape, but you wouldn't have enough time to run past them and through the winding corridors of the underground, even while distracting them with your cursed technique. They'd catch you within seconds. You’re sure they have curses lurking around waiting to thwart you, too.

You could burst directly into the layers of concrete and metal above — use your technique to revert them back millions and millions and years to their very first forms, atoms and subatomic particles, and then rebuild them up as an ascending platform — but that would take too much time, and you'd be completely defenceless while you did. Not to mention the toll it'd take on you.

(Not to mention the fact that you'd be bursting into the public eye from a giant crater in the ground.)

"I'm sure you know what I'm going to do," continues pseudo-Geto, amiable. "I would ask you to join us, but I know that is impossible. Therefore, there is only one course of action."

Can't fight. Can't escape. Can't get answers. Can't stay clueless. How contradictory.

You're not dying, that's all you know. And if you have to do the one thing you never wanted to do, then so be it. Anything is better than death. Death is not an escape, in this scenario — it’s a guarantee of imprisonment.

"It's a shame," pseudo-Geto sighs, bloodlust swelling. "Such a waste of a good technique."

You make a Binding Vow with yourself within seconds.

Using a magnitude of cursed energy usually out of your reach, your entire body will be reduced to atoms — intangible, untrappable, unkillable — for as long as it takes to retreat to safety. In return, you will be unable to think, unable to move according to your own will, only a mere pawn to entropy as the rest of the galaxy is — high risk, high reward.

There are many things that could go wrong.

In reducing yourself to essentially nothing, in splitting your cursed energy into billions of particles, you could reach a state of such low cursed energy concentration that you are, for all terms and purposes, considered dead. In doing so, your Binding Vow could break, and you would be unable to return to living.

Or you could float for days, weeks, years — safety is subjective, subjective is dangerous when it comes to contracts, and you can only hope that your own understanding of it sets the standard.

It's either this, this fleeting, terrifying chance, or death. With one, you can return to your school, your students, your Satoru — you can tell them what happened. You can bring justice to whoever has disturbed Suguru from his slumber. With the other — nothing. Just plain, utter nothingness forever and ever.

(You know which you'd rather.)

The last thing you recall, in spotty haziness, is the heart-stopping sight of Suguru surging towards you, eyes bloodthirsty, face contorted in malice.

The last thing you hope is that Satoru isn't too upset about the risk you've taken.

Eight days after your solo mission, you resurface — a discombobulated, stumbling mess on the outskirts of Shibuya, eyes glazed and mouth stuttering over syllables. A nearby Window calls the college within seconds, and Gojo is there just as soon — hands shaking when he grasps your arm and turns you to face him, fingers trembling when he cups your cheeks and brushes them under your eyes.

It’s you. It’s you, it’s you, it’s you, and he can breathe, he can fucking breathe, his chest is lighter than it’s been for those entire 8 days — all the while, he burns with an anger so intense it hurts. And Satoru is no stranger to anger, of course — knows it as intimately as he knows himself — but he's not sure if he can remember the last time it had rendered him breathless, trembling. Bloodthirsty.

It's not the time to think about it. Not when you're shaking in his arms, so frail and weak everywhere except your hands — no, your hands remain strong, fingers digging into his clothes and skin. He turns off his Infinity. The sting of your touch grounds him.

Shoko is already waiting in the clinic for him — she’d been preparing ever since the call first came in. The students (the ones on campus, at least) crowd together at a distance, buzzing anxiously as Satoru disappears swiftly into the depths of the infirmary with you in his arms.

Bad things happen often. Too often. Satoru isn’t sure whether it’s a good thing or a bad thing that they haven’t gotten used to it yet.

“Gibberish,” Satoru answers when Shoko asks if you’ve said anything competent since he picked you up. “Just gibberish.”

Shoko is poking and prodding you with the usual doctor's shit — stethoscopes and thermometers and that blood pressure band that goes around your arm — and you just lay there and take it. Head rocking side to side, limbs trembling, mouth lolling open, and Satoru's trying not to lose his head because what good is taking your temperature? Do you look like you have a fucking cold? Is the way your eyes focus and unfocus normal? The way you can’t string together two syllables that make fucking sense?

But even with how he can see your cells malfunctioning all over your body, Shoko knows more about this shit than him. So he sits pretty on her swivelling chair, twisting back and forth, body the image of boredom but mind anything but. Time and time again, he’s reminded of how unprejudiced tragedy is — how it leaves no hint, no mark of itself, no time to prepare for the toll of it all.

Satoru had greeted you briefly before you’d left. Said something about getting lunch together, that you better be careful because you were treating him — the same shit he said time and time again, his real plea hidden within the folds and twists of his jokes and quips. Be careful. Don’t die. I can’t lose you. You’re precious to me.

You’ll be okay. You have to be — he won’t allow anything otherwise. But if he’d known last week that you’d end up like this, would he have said those things out loud? He doesn’t think so. He’s cowardly in that way.

A few moments later, Shoko straightens up. Immediately reaches into the pocket of her lab coat and pulls out a cigarette and a rusting lighter, and is puffing out clouds of bitter air just seconds later.

Shit. That’s not a good sign.

Shoko sighs. Rubs at her dark undereye circles and only makes them worse, taps her cigarette so that the ash falls to the floor. “I know what it is.”

Well fucking tell him instead of keeping it in!

“Oh?” Satoru says instead, leaning forward onto his knees. “What is it, then?”

“She used her technique on herself.”

“She does that all the time to heal."

“She didn’t heal herself,” Shoko snaps — and Satoru remembers that he’s not the only person you’re important to. That while he and Suguru had gotten ahead of themselves being the strongest, they’d left you and Shoko to stroll humbly along your own paths. The only girls in their year. The only person Shoko could fully confide in, really — at least in Tokyo —, the only person who had bothered to check up on her when she drank too much, smoked too much. Even if Shoko hated it.

Shoko is upset. Satoru doesn't what to do with it.

(Alcohol — she likes alcohol. Satoru reminds himself to pick up the most expensive bottle of the stuff the next time he's out.)

(No. She’s trying not to drink so much, isn’t she?)

(Whatever. Life is short.)

“She dissipated herself.”

Satoru knows about your technique intimately enough that it immediately gives him pause — but he runs over the details in his head, just in case, as if it isn’t already imprinted on the flesh of his skull.

Your cursed technique allows you to disassemble items down to their most basic units — subatomic particles — while your reverse cursed technique allows you to reassemble them. Items can be reassembled into their previous form, or to another related form, but you cannot exceed the item’s natural entropy threshold. If you do, the item cannot be reverted back to a physical state, and you will bear the brunt of the resulting shift in energy.

It's a finicky technique. Finicky and fickle and the risks tend to outweigh the rewards — but you'd always used it so elegantly, so gracefully. Even when you doubted yourself, you had a handle on it. Satoru admired that about you.

("You don't say I'm powerful. You say I'm helpful. There's a difference."

You'd said that to him once, when he brought you and Yuuji to lunch. You'd acted like it didn't bother you but he could tell it did — he didn't need his Six Eyes to notice how your nose twitched and your eyes narrowed, displeased.

But Satoru believes in two types of helpfulness.

The kind he is — powerful, needed, a force to be reckoned with. Someone that keeps things afloat, that acts as a beacon in the dark.

Then there's the other kind. The usefulness of pawns, of bait. Necessary, but not fundamental. Desired, sure, but rarely crucial.

You've always been the first. Always. You and him and Suguru and Shoko, always. Even he could admit that.)

You disassembled yourself into atoms. Into nothingness. You lost your mind, your body, your energy, everything—

Satoru sighs. He's been doing that a lot today.

“I didn’t know she could do that,” Satoru says. His throat is covered in a layer of sawdust. He can’t remember the last time he had to actually focus on not throwing up. “Why would she do that?”

“She talked about it, before,” Shoko says. She leans against the bed you’re laying on, gazing over her shoulder — and the way she looks at you turns his stomach, the upturn of her brows, the sad downturn of her mouth. It’s as if you’re already dead. As if she’s looking at a living corpse. “Just… as a theory. A last resort to help her get away, if needed, but—”

“But what?”

“She knew she didn’t have the power for it,” Shoko mutters. Breathes another puff of cigarette smoke. “If she tried, she'd end up just… fading away. In breaking herself up, she'd negate the cursed energy that gives her the power to put herself together.

"And the side effects would be… well, you can see that for yourself. Stupid, so fucking stupid…”

“Well, obviously she has the power for it,” Satoru murmurs. “Or made the power for it.”

“A binding vow?”

Satoru shrugs. Clenches his jaw, watching as you scratch at the faux-leather underneath you. “It'd make sense. Explains how she put herself back together."

(But for what? What could have driven you to such lengths?

A curse like Jogo wouldn't be all too difficult for you to defeat.

So who…?)

Shoko hums. She stares into space for a moment, eyes unfocused, and for a moment Satoru sees her younger self — the one who just started smoking, just started drinking, who carried the weight of all the people she healed (and those she'd failed to) tucked in her pocket. The Shoko that would make sarcastic quips and humble them when they needed humbling, but humour them when she knew the outcome would be funny.

A time when they had very little responsibility. Even him, shackled with it since birth. Comparing his duty from then to now is like comparing a boulder to the weight of the world.

He feels very old, suddenly, at 28.

"There's nothing I can do for her," Shoko says, softly. Regretfully. "If she did make a binding vow, I can only assume she made a condition about returning to normal. If so…"

Satoru can’t do anything about it, basically, she explains. Your condition is one that will only heal with time, patience, and the odd boost from Shoko’s technique. Maybe, she says — she's still unsure about that last bit.

It sickens him. It festers as a deep, curdling annoyance in his bones, his uselessness. It’s a sensation he had only felt once before, standing before the slumped-over body of Geto Suguru. Nothing he could do for him except put him out of his misery, and even then that felt like a cop-out.

So… he can't go directly after the thing that had forced your hand, because they had left no trace. He can't heal you, either. He can't take care of you while your body repairs itself, while your supposed binding vow returns you to your rightful state — that duty will fall to Shoko, or one of her interns.

He can do nothing. And Satoru is nothing if he cannot be of use.

Nine months after the events of the culling games, Satoru enters your room to see you sitting up — eyes wide, eyes seeing, and it only takes you fixing him with a single look to know that you're okay.

(Subjectively. Relatively.)

Suguru Getou — Kenjaku — is finally dead — exorcised. He’s not sure which is the right word to use. All of his allies, killed or exorcised too. Nanami, murdered. Nobara, comatose. Yaga, dead. Inumaki, Maki, Okkotsu, maimed; the great houses of sorcery destroyed and rebuilt in the image of Satoru’s will.

Itadori Yuuji — dead. Sukuna Ryomen — exorcised.

Adding up the gains, subtracting the losses, carrying the ones… Both sides seem to have lost pretty evenly. And he should be happy about it, too; things could have turned out much worse. And they would have, too, if he hadn’t pushed himself out of his pouting and escaped the prison realm — a feat that was half out of spite and half concern for the outside world, and maybe a little curiosity. Rage. Longing to see the bastard who’d stolen Suguru’s face and body, who dared to reanimate him and rouse him from peace — longing to slaughter the thing that had rendered you bedridden and half-mad for months.

He had been the one to kill Kenjaku. It only felt right to be the one to do so — he’d killed Suguru, after all; had been the one to leave him defenceless and open to manipulation. If Suguru hadn’t been dead, Kenjaku wouldn’t have been able to steal his body.

Of course, Satoru ignored the fact that the very last rotten, desperate dregs of Suguru would have enjoyed Kenjaku’s plan — it was the only way he was able to keep his eyes open when he blasted his brain to bits. It was hard enough the first time.

All of these things sit on his tongue, bitter and souring and curdling — every detail of the battle, of the culling games, the colleagues and peers and students he’d held in his arms, the ones he’d comforted as they slipped away, the ones he’d reassured and promised.

(Pink, blood-covered hair; a smile that never dimmed, a nervous murmur (“It’s okay, Gojo-sensei. I know what I got into.”). The shaky laugh that had followed.)

Satoru’s hands tremble at his sides.

Your eyes are wet with tears when you look at him.

“How long has it been?” You croak — voice dry and cracked with disuse, whining in some parts, low and wheezing in others. Bone-deep, the fear in your voice, and for good reason — things had already been at a boiling point when you’d been taken down. Everything had moved past you. “Satoru—?”

Another selfish decision on his part: he doesn’t tell you. At least, not now, when the words threaten to vomit out of his mouth, when the pain is suddenly too fresh and too raw.

(For one strange, too-long second, he’s reminded of his mother — weak, presence-less, powerless as she was. Empty-eyed and unhappy. She was hardly even a mother with the amount of governesses he had.

Somehow, though, every problem would seem worse when her eyes were upon him; every cut and bruise was more painful; every slight against him a grave insult; every mistake a cause for self-pity and temper tantrums — and none of it mattered, as long as she took him into her arms.

A rarity, yes, but… maybe one of the only fond memories he has of his childhood in the Gojo household.

Satoru feels like a kid again — suddenly sniffling from a bruise he swore didn’t hurt, his mother ready to pat his head and baby him and coo his name. Satoru. Not Gojo-sama.)

He crosses the room and plants himself upon your bed and takes you into his arms for the first time in months, and—

And for the first time since Yuuji’s death, since Nanami’s, since Suguru’s, since your injuries—

He cries. Openly. Heaving, chest-wrecking sobs; red, wet nose and ugly whimpers. It’s overwhelming. It’s cathartic. It makes the pain worse, for a second, before it begins to taper out in a bruising wave; with it, he remembers his darling underclassmen who died, his colleagues that he’d wanted to live at least a few more years; he remembers that despite years of being told so, he’s not God — he couldn’t stop Yuuji’s death, or Suguru’s, or Toge losing his arms, or—

“Thirteen months,” he manages to get out. “Thirteen months — you couldn’t talk, or move properly, or—”

Satoru grabs handfuls of you — hair, waist, belly, it doesn’t matter. He can feel you beneath his skin. Rushing, pounding blood, cells, micromolecules — and he doesn’t need to, but he engages his Six Eyes for a moment — actually engages them, doesn’t let them run unconsciously in the background. It’s a comfort to let himself see each receptor interact with each signal on each plasma membrane, to let himself see the tissues that formed organs that formed organ systems forming you, breathing, living, sentient—

He kisses you — or you kiss him, he’s not sure — but it’s far more intimate, far more tender than any touch he’d delivered unto you; hands clutching the sides of your face, your fingers digging into his wrists. You’re crying, salt on his tongue — and he only knows they’re not his own tears because you give a great, shuddering sob when you part, trembling like a leaf in the wind.

“I had to,” you gasp, and he wants to tell you that he knows, he knows, he doesn’t blame you, sweet girl — did what you had to do to live, to survive— “I had to—”

“Only go where I can follow, okay?" His eyes are burning again, voice cracking with the promise, regardless of the fact that he’d rather you do it 100 times over than die. But it's the only way he can tell you he loves you without telling you he loves you, and he can't remember the last time he said the words aloud.

(He does. He remembers. And he remembers that Suguru wouldn't mind if he said it to you — that Suguru loved you as he loves you. And he remembers that Suguru is dead and doesn't have an opinion anymore, so it really doesn't matter, anyways.)

Satoru calls Shoko when he rights himself, barely pulling back from your embrace to text her something barely understandable and hurried. You don't say much while he does; still acclimating to being aware, being awake — he catches you with your eyes screwed shut and your nose buried in his jacket, fingers tight on his arms again. Grounding yourself. Reminding yourself that you're alive, and with him.

Shoko scolds you between rummaging around for a thermometer and scribbling your prescription in messy, barely legible cursive — calls you a dumb bitch for doing what you did, tells you that you owe her a bottle of wine and a trip to a fancy hot spring, and it all seems a little lighter.

(She cries a little — if the slight glassiness of her eyes can be considered crying. Satoru only teases her a bit for it, though you're quick to mention how he'd blubbered like a baby when he saw you, and he's humbled quickly.

It's the most normal he's felt in weeks.)

Shoko clears away after a few hours — gives you strict orders to rest, and sends him a knowing look that he's not all too sure of the meaning of.

"You look tired, Satoru," you finally say when you're alone again. Your smile is sad, knowing, and Satoru curses it all. You deserve a grace period, a moment of ignorance before the grief settles in. "What happened?"

But when have you ever wanted a moment of ignorance? When has he ever been able to hide the truth of things from you? When have you ever been anything but his equal, his confidant?

"Everything," Satoru says. A short, humourless laugh punctuates his single-worded sentence. "Everything, crybaby. Everything that we thought could happen, and everything we thought couldn't."

A flicker of a smile — uncomfortable, flat. Your eyes flicker down to the bland, starched sheets of the hospital bed. "Did you see him?"

He doesn't need you to elaborate. There's really only one person you both mean when you say him.

"Yes."

"Who was he?"

Satoru shifts in his seat. "An ancient sorcerer named Kenjaku. His cursed technique allowed him to transplant his brain between bodies and possess them."

"And he chose Suguru."

"Yes. And many others, too."

"And you killed him."

"Yes. For Suguru, and for you. But mostly for Suguru.”

“I’m glad,” you say, but your fingers twist the sheets tightly. “When I saw him, I was angry. So angry, I… I wanted to kill him. I knew I wasn’t strong enough, and I knew he would kill me, but for a second—”

He understands. God, does he understand. “You wanted to take the risk.” No matter the cost, no matter the damage to your own body. Anger like that consumes.

“I did.” You swallow. Your eyes meet his. “It was like… adding insult to injury. As if it’s not enough that Suguru is dead, but this — this Kenjaku has to puppeteer him too. Disturb his peace."

The wind rustles the trees outside. The late-afternoon gold of the sun settles along the horizon, a burning orange that stretches the shadows and warms the wind and turns the side of your face honey-soft and sad.

“But I realised that I was probably the first person he’d revealed himself to," you continue, "so I was the only one that could warn you."

Always thinking about the good of others. It was another thing he admired about you — Nanami, too. Satoru, for all his big talk about changing the world of jujutsu, about being better than those who came before him, is really quite selfish.

It's why his hands had trembled when he'd had to kill Yuuji. It's why he couldn't put Suguru in the ground the first time they met after he became a curse user. Even when he knows things are necessary, he tries his damnedest to hold on — just for the chance of it all. The chance that Suguru could change his mind. The chance that Sukuna could be removed from Yuuji without him needing to die.

"And…”

One snow-white brow raises. “And?”

“You’ve already lost too many people that you love,” you say simply, shrugging — like it's a simple fact, no need for experimentation, no need for an academic paper complete with its own abstract and footnotes. Like you've always known, in some little way, but you're only able to bring yourself to say it now.

And Satoru — well, it's no secret to him, is it? He's known it since he was 13, 14, 15 — had a bit of a buffering period, sure — and now here at 28, he knows it just as well. The point is that you're not supposed to know. Not while you're still healing from Suguru and… being attacked by fake-Suguru.

Regardless of what he knows and how long he's known it, Satoru feels his throat begin to close up, twisting and turning and holding his breath tight. He doesn’t like the feeling.

“Love?” He echoes. His voice has gotten a little empty. It's too soon for him to say it aloud, he thinks. It was okay when he whispered it in his head after making love to you; it was easy when he grinned at your scrunched up nose and scoffed comments and thought fuck, I love you. It was easy when he could pretend it was a simple, passing comment, a trick of the mind — but having it said as fact?

Not so simple. But you don’t need to know that. “Is that so?"

You don't seem to notice his momentary pause — a lifetime of rambling in his time, a second's hesitation in regular time — too busy staring at the space where his fingers stretch apart over the sheets. Just inches away from yours. "We're friends, aren't we?"

Oh.

"Oh." Satoru blinks back. "Oh, yeah. Best friends, you and I, crybaby."

"I know it's normal for us," you say, ploughing ahead, "to just lose and lose and keep losing, but… I'll be honest. I never fully got used to it, and I don't want to."

He wishes he could say the same, but he can't.

He understands, in some capacity. Nobody wants to see the people around them die, a continuous and vicious cycle. Nobody wants to get so used to loss that most funerals no longer hold any emotional significance. But getting used to it had saved him. Getting used to it helped him act without consequence, without remorse, and that's what the battlefield both needs and requires of him.

He could count on both hands the people he wants to save in this world — about half of them were dead, at this point. A lot of them died while he was imprisoned. Two, he had to kill himself. He swore he'd protect the rest with all Six Eyes, every non-existent boundary of his Limitless.

So Satoru doesn't care much about getting used to death and dying and loss and grief. As long as you're okay, he's okay. As long as his job as the Strongest is done, everything is as it should be.

He doesn't say that to you, of course. You'd probably curse him out and call him a heartless bastard. Instead, he nods, hums and agrees and tells you the names of those who died when you work up the courage to ask.

It's a long night. It's an even longer list.

10.

Shoko keeps you for observation for 10 days after you wake up — three days longer than necessary, but she won't hear it from him, no matter how many times he reminds her that technically she falsified her degree—

He's joking. Mostly.

Satoru volunteers himself to help you back home, taking with you the plastic bag filled with your cleaned sorcerer's garb and weapon. He carries it over his shoulder along with two teddy bears, a half-wilted bouquet of tulips and a half-eaten box of chocolates (all courtesy of the second years — except for the chocolates, which are half-eaten because of him). He winds his other arm around your waist even though you can walk perfectly fine, but — it's just in case. Purely precautionary. For once, you don’t argue about being babied.

In the midday sun outside, you tilt your head back and close your eyes and smile. For a moment, it's as if the sadness has melted away from you — the tears you shed over Yuuji, Nanami, Suguru. The tears you shed over him, and he wasn't even dead. Satoru is glad your eyes are closed — even beneath his sunglasses, it's painfully obvious that he's staring.

You decide to take the subway home — it's my first time outside in almost a year, you remind him, so he pushes down any arguments he might have and enjoys the too-cramped journey towards Akihabara. You’re both shoved standing together, between a panicked looking man holding a tray of coffee and a woman with her child hanging about her legs, your head bobbing against his chest as the train moves.

For a moment — as the train passes momentarily out of the underground and becomes encapsulated in light — it's easy to drown in the normalcy of it all. For a moment, he sees himself looking in as a stranger would. Here, he isn't the Six Eyes; just a simple man taking his girlfriend home, standing close on the train, wishing to be closer. Riding home to your shared apartment where he'll peel oranges and feed them to you, where he'll lay his head in your lap and hold your hands to his heart.

His nose wrinkles. He prefers reality, he thinks, where he can be powerful and have you by his side; where he can protect you, uphold peace, change the jujutsu world for the best — and then go home all the same, and have you to hold.

"What are you thinking about?" You mumble against his collar.

"Oranges," he replies.

"I don't have any at home," you say, "or if I did, they're rotted."

"Don't worry — we cleaned your kitchen up. Me and the kids." It was an afternoon of Yuuji attempting to shove rotting potatoes in Nobara's face. That was before Shibuya; before everything, really.

"Oh? You got your hands dirty?"

Satoru tries to not think about that same beaming, smiling Yuuji's last breaths. "Of course! This is me we're talking about, honey. I was front and centre."

You snort, soft against his neck. It's a wonder he went almost a year without you. "Housewife Satoru. I'll keep it in mind."

When you return to your apartment, you shower together for the first time in forever. He spends extra time and care massaging shampoo into your scalp, detangling each knot; spends extra time rinsing the suds out, tilting your head back with a gentle tap to your chin.

Steam clogs his mind. Almond shower oil and citrusy shampoo fog his senses. The realisation that you could have potentially been taken away from him sits heavy like a stone in his stomach — why it hadn't sunk in in the past, oh, 13 months or so, he doesn’t know. All he knows is that he's terribly bad at caring for precious things — but if he could, if it's possible, he'll remould and reshape his hands, his heart, his mind, just for the chance—

"Satoru," you breathe against his lips, "Bow your head."

(Bow your head, you say. He'd kneel if you asked him to.)

You brush your hands through his hair; rinse him free of suds and bubbles and kiss his temples as you shut off the water. What is supposed to be healing for you is quickly becoming therapy for him — muscles relaxing, mind clearing of all responsibilities, mournings, obligations. All he knows are the soft, newly washed sheets beneath him and your nose in the crook of his neck.

It's a strange sensation, the lack of tension, his brain not working overtime. But hardly unwelcome.

11.

Satoru asks you if you saw anything when you were indisposed. Memories, flashbacks, prophecies? Blurry half-truths, nonsensical babbling? You tell him that you can't really remember — and you can't, not really, but you do remember one thing.

When you were 11, you met Satoru and Suguru for the first time. It's that memory that you can remember playing in your head, over and over and over again: Satoru and Suguru, scrawny and still-faced in their yukata.

Satoru was from a great, traditional house. Suguru was not, but upon discovery of his powers, was taken into unofficial custody of the higher-ups. In most circumstances, you wouldn’t have been allowed within two feet of them — but the elders had deemed your cursed technique a great gift, and so you were warily accepted into the upper echelons of jujutsu society, a stranger, a foreigner.

Introducing you to the most powerful sorcerers your age was nothing more than political play, of course. The adults followed behind as you walked through the grand grounds of the Gojo family — (maintained by a team of 12 gardeners, according to the Lady of the house) — muttering and scheming between themselves, making sure nothing would go awry.

Nothing did, of course. Satoru picked his nose and Suguru told him it was rude and they bickered for a while — Satoru bickered, Suguru replied calmly and quickly. Satoru asked you if your technique was good or bad ("No such thing," interjected Suguru) and whether or not you think you could beat him in a fight.

(That last question was to stroke his own ego, of course. Everyone knew he was the strongest sorcerer born in the last century.)

At some point, Satoru made you cry.

You can't remember what about, all these years later — you'd think you'd remember, considering the fact that you know the amount of gardeners employed by the Gojo estate — but you know that you had tried to stop it; fists balled, teeth gritted, full-body heaves. Crying was the last thing you had wanted to do. Crying meant weakness. Weakness meant being taken advantage of.

But you were so scared. It was all so alien. You wanted to go home, but home didn’t exist anymore. You wanted your mother, but your mother was long gone. All you had left were stone-faced adults that were only interested in your abilities.

Suguru had been confused at your reaction to what he took as a harmless quip — a little callous, as most children are — but he had reassured you nonetheless.

"Don’t cry. Satoru speaks before he thinks," he'd said, nudging your shoulder. "Sometimes you have to ignore him and he'll be so bored that he has to think."

"I can hear you," Gojo huffed. "I didn't mean to."

"See?" Suguru smiled. "Works like a charm."

Yes, Suguru had always been there to protect you. Emotionally, at least. He was willing to be kinder to people. More gentle, more forgiving. He'd believed that it was his duty as a sorcerer to protect those that couldn't protect themselves, and—

Well. That had changed, by the end, but having that memory replay in your head made you see the bigger picture of it all. Suguru's place in things. Your place in things.

You'd loved Suguru, no doubt. And you’ll probably always carry a piece of him with you — you'd hate to do otherwise. You’ll carry his kindness and his jokes and his catlike smile, all tucked away in bubble wrap somewhere in your chest cavity — but you will never disregard his wrongdoings. Since his death, you'd argued against the two sides of him; felt guilty for loving him after what he did, felt guilty for hating him after loving him and knowing him for as long as you did. Two halves of a whole. Darkness in light and light in darkness.

He was both of those things. You love him, but you don’t forgive him, and you probably never will. He will never again be the boy that comforted you after Satoru made you cry; he will never again be the boy who let you braid his hair back. He won't be the boy who slaughtered innocents, either — death's funny like that. Indiscriminately doing away with both the good and the bad.

And that's okay. Kenjaku is dead, after all, and Suguru can finally rest — and with him, your warring mind.

12.

Midnight strikes and you're still awake. You don’t even seem tired, and that's after a long shower and takeout and a movie. Usually you'd be a drooling mess by now, but tonight is different. Feels different. Satoru isn’t sure if it's just a year's worth of built up sexual tension or something else, but he feels it regardless.

He's flopped on his stomach, hair still damp; you're curled up in the shape of a C, skin reflecting the light of the TV. He might visit Nobara tomorrow. Megumi usually goes on Wednesdays, too — they could make a day out of it, and you could tag along, too. He's got a craving for the pistachio macarons they sell near—

"I'm in love with you," you announce.

Satoru doesn't bother asking you to repeat yourself because he knows he didn’t mishear. It isn't the knowing that shocks him — he's not stupid, and you wear your heart on your sleeve — it's the sudden, quick verbal affirmation of it that catches him off guard. After all, haven’t you two been putting this all off? Yearning for a dead man? Being pulled from two opposing poles?

He turns his head towards you, opens his mouth to ask you just that, and—

"After Suguru, I thought I'd never be happy again," you say, and you’re smiling like you didn't just say something inherently heartbreaking. But no, you look fond — content, even, blinking slowly at him. "And I thought I'd never feel for someone as strong as I did for him. But here I am: happy, and in love, and okay."

Satoru opens his mouth — then closes it quickly. For some reason, he remembers something Suguru said to you when you were younger: "Satoru speaks before he thinks." But he wants to think about this — about what he should say. How does he respond to you quite literally baring your heart to him? How does he tell you what he wants to tell you, what you deserve to hear? He's never been good with real, genuine words — emotional shit never came easy to him out loud. His thoughts are much more concise than his mouth is, but he guesses it's because it moves so fast in comparison.

Pity you can't read his mind. It'd make things much easier.

“You don’t have to say anything,” but he wants to, don't you know? "You don't have to pretend. It’s okay. I know that… maybe you don’t love me as much as you loved Suguru, but I know you love me in some way, at least—”

Satoru frowns — strings of ideas and thoughts bunching up and stopping short as your words register. “As much as I— hey, stop putting words in my mouth—"

"The truth is," you continue on, "I feel lighter than I have in years. I don't dread life so much anymore. I don't dread you anymore."

"You… dreaded me?"

You hum. Your legs stretch down, arms forward, face scrunched up in a passing yawn. "I'm not stupid to think you didn’t know how I felt, but… I hated that I was so obvious about it. Even when I was fighting with myself about it, I was obvious. It made me hate being around you, sometimes."

You sigh, then — not as heavy and melancholy as they used to be, no. This is a sigh of relief, of cathartic release.

Satoru blinks, and attempts to wade through the seventy-or-so compulsions telling him to make a joke, to laugh, to tease you. Maybe he should actually be serious for once. Say it straight and say it firm, so you can't take anything the wrong way. If there was ever a time for him to not beat around the bush…

"I've liked you since I was 17," he confesses, finally. "Me and Suguru, we were together, y’know, and we were happy. And Suguru loved you, and somewhere along the line I… began to do the same, but we were so young and then… Everything changed so fast. Everything broke so fast.”

Your fingers brush against his, and he breathes in a sigh. Your eyes are wide and watery, low light reflecting like glitter in your eyes.

"Sometimes, it keeps me up at night," Satoru says, laughing a pained sort of laugh. "Out of everything, that's what keeps me up — that we could've been happy together, all three of us. It never would’ve been enough to make him change, but…"

At least you would’ve known what it was like. To be happy together in that way. To be content. To find your places in the world, hand and hand. To know what it was like — even if Suguru’s fall from grace was inevitable — so you wouldn’t have to keep wondering until your untimely, gruesome, sorcerer-style deaths, or whatever.

Back then, Satoru didn’t understand why Suguru never told you how he felt. He couldn't understand how he could be content watching from afar, looking but never touching. What Satoru wanted, he learned to take; the Strongest didn’t need to ask for permission, only forgiveness.

He learned quickly that some things were better left unsaid. And now, 28 years old, half of his friends, students, colleagues dead — he understands even more.

He remembers how Yuuji had tried to stave off tears when he realised he had to die; remembers how his student’s throat had felt being crushed in his hands. He loved Yuuji like a little brother. Like a son, even. He was family. He was his student, and yet his death had been necessary, and Satoru battled with it. It allowed him to succeed in the mission he was born to complete. But he had given up Yuuji in return.

There is no curse more twisted than love.

Therein lays the problem, he supposes. The second you love someone, you run the risk of having them end up like Yuuji did. Like Suguru did. Like Nanami did. When you are burdened with incredible power like Satoru is — like Suguru was — you must be able to sacrifice for it. The closer that people are, the more likely they are to be caught in the crossfire, the more likely you are to be hurt. Suguru hoped to avoid that at all costs. It was easier to watch from afar, less painful.

Satoru is a tad more selfish. Which is bad, he knows, because he's too prepared to sacrifice. Even now. Even now, he knows that if caught between saving you and saving society, he would be forced to — to—

Satoru inhales. The only thing for it is to simply stop things from getting that far.

He could explain all this to you. He could talk circles around you about it, in fact, but the truth is that it's all conjecture. Suguru isn’t here to tell him why he did what he did. He can’t speak for him, no matter how well he knew him.

"I don't know why Suguru never told you," Satoru says instead. He folds his fingers tighter, taking yours in his grip as he does so. "Guess that's something he took with him to the grave."

"I've stopped wondering," you say. “I’ll never stop regretting, but I’ve stopped wondering. I can’t stay rooted in the past any more. It was doing more harm than good."

And you raise your interlocked hands — nestle them under your chin and screw your eyes shut, like you're wishing on the evening star, like he's something precious to be treasured. All of a sudden he's 17 and confused about why he can't stop staring at you. He doesn’t have Suguru to tease him about it, now.

“I’ll never forget him,” Satoru announces — a warning, or a reassurance, he doesn’t know. All he knows is that he’s telling the truth and nothing but the truth, and whether or not you like his truth is not his concern. He respects you too much to lie about this to you.

Your lips twitch upwards, a phantom of a smile. “Neither will I. "

"I'll never forget you, either."

The smile grows, blooms, blossoms, until it stretches bright and full across your face. The first smile of yours he's seen in a while that wasn't at half-mast, or tinged with sadness, or pain, or fatigue.

"How lucky I am," you whisper, "to be known by you, Gojo Satoru."

It should be the other way around, he thinks.

(12.5.

It's the first time he makes love in years.

Satoru has always fucked you. Always. No matter how tired you both were, no matter how injured — he'd always force himself to be rougher, force his touches to not linger as much as he wanted them to.

If he felt too much, he'd crack a joke instead of drowning in it; if he felt his eyes beginning to burn he'd bury his nose in the crook of your neck and push it down. If he thought of long, dark hair and cat-like eyes, he'd tighten your grip in his hair and the shock of pain would clear his mind. He fucked quick, and when he was done he'd lay far away enough that he couldn't feel your skin against his.

Tonight, he lets himself love and be loved again.

You're on top of him, ass flush against his thighs, taking every inch he has to give you; his hands have found your jaw, thumbs brushing back and forth across your dewy, sweat-slick cheeks. One hand of yours clasps around his wrist; the other bands to his chest, nails digging red into his skin. Your cursed energy blooms, flushes, flourishes when he opens his eyes to look at you.

He sees every pore, every hair, every dimple, every broken capillary, every scratch and scrape. Every part of you, bending to him in some places, unfalteringly stubborn in others.

"Look at you," he mumbles, blinking dumbly. "So… pretty…"

You snort something like a laugh, and continue: up, down, up, down. Slow, grinding gyrations of your hips that make his head spin pleasantly; and with his Limitless nullified, he feels every inch of skin, every tensing of muscle, every scrape and press fully and completely. He’s never felt so engulfed in it before — the sensations of it all, the warmth, your scent, your weight above him.

He'd drown in you, if he could. Take you in his mouth and nose and ears and everywhere, until he's left gasping for air and grappling for something of substance. Maybe once upon a time he would keep those thoughts to himself, for whatever reason — but now he's allowed to be selfish in his affections, allowed to give more than surface-level compliments and vague declarations of love.

Between pleasure-ridden shudders and sloppy, wet kisses, he breathes:

"I want you everywhere," he says, "All the time. Over me, on me, in me—"

You raise a brow, impudent and teasing in a way that makes his abdomen tighten. "In you?"

And maybe he didn’t mean it in the way that you took it, but he plays along anyways, waggling his brows. "You heard me."

"You're terrible."

"I'm not joking," Satoru argues — but it’s hard to take him seriously when his voice quietens, when he arches up eagerly to meet your lips—

When his grip on your lower back becomes painfully tight, when his lips part in a moan and his eyes screw shut and he throws his head back, hips rutting up to meet yours, and—

His peak rises to greet him — and his heart swells all the while. He finds himself clawing for you as his orgasm builds, hands clambering against your back, your neck, your hair, until (with a great, shaking breath, may he add): "Fuck, I — mmf, I love you—"

It carries him off to a state of fuzzy, empty-minded ignorance — pleasure tightening his entire body, fizzling from the tips of his fingers to his curling toes. Your name on his tongue, slurred and mellifluous, his smile dizzy and drunk.

As you smile down at him, so unbearably fond, Satoru thinks that he doesn’t mind saying I love you aloud after all.)

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bugboysgf · 11 months

Text

Me?

Summary: You transfer to KISS for the the semester to be closer to Kitty but somebody catches your eye….

AN: I just finished xo kitty an hour ago and looked on tumblr for fanfics but i couldn't find any so i wrote one myself. (kinda rushed so don't judge)

“Okay we should share this room together” you look up from your phone to see Kitty sitting on the bed.

“Okay cool.” you huffed. You were so nervous you've never been miles away from your home before.

“Be happy your parents let you go this semester, it's a big deal.”

“I know…. I just don't speak Korean and I'm here. You've been here for one Semester already and you basically know everybody I transfer in the middle of the year.”

“But you were sad that you couldn't come to korea with me and my family now you are here coming to school with me.'' Kitty tried to get you to look at the bright side.

“Okay fine, so when can I meet your friends?” you asked

“Right now actually I'm pretty sure Min Ho, Q and Dae are at the dorm. You already met Julianna and yuri.” she grabs your hand and leads you to the boys dorms.

Your heart was beating the whole time, you had trouble making friends at school. Last semester you were all alone. Kitty was in Korea and she was your only friend. You were happy that you could be together now.

Kitty opens the door of the dorm and you both walk in.Then three pairs of eyes were on you. You kept your head low avoiding eye contact.

“Kitty! Your back!” a guy with curly hair hugs her. When they stop hugging he looks at you.

“Q this is y/n.”

“Hi nice to meet you.”

“Hi” you gave him a small smile. You notice another guy hugging her and you could tell who it was straight away, it was Dae.

“Good to see you in person and not a photo.” he smiles.

“Good to see you too Dae.” you said

“Please tell me you're not annoying like kitty is.” you look at the guy talking, he must be Min Ho, he's the only one you haven't met.

“I- l- don't think i am?” you say more as a question. The first thing you noticed was how attractive he was, you knew you couldn’t like him, you promised not to focus on boys. You look at a Kitty and you can tell she's on it already. She knows, she always knows.

“One thing I can say for certain is that you're prettier than a Kitty.” he looks at the Kitty with a shit eating grin.

“Haha, so funny.” Kitty glared at him “and don't flirt with my friend.'' Kitty flicks him off as he walks back to his room.

“He wasn't flirting with me” you came to his defense.

“He definitely was.” Q said.

“Sadly she doesn't know what flirting is, the last guy that flirted with her she said he was being nice but he was checking her out and telling her how pretty she was!”

“He was just being nice!”

—-

It wasn't a secret that you knew nothing about guys or how to talk to them. The only thing you knew about love was reading Harry Styles fanfics in the 6th grade. But Kitty knew everything she was a love expert and she only had one boyfriend. She makes you believe that the right one could be anywhere you just have to believe.

“Okay i'm ready.” you came out of the room. Kitty looks at you and frowns.

“Yea no. You are not wearing that.”

“What's wrong with it?” you look down at your outfit. You thought it looks good for the welcome back party.

“Did you forget that Min ho is going to be there? You can't show up with that on. You need something that makes a statement.”

“I've only said like three words to him, he doesn't like me.”

“Oh trust me he does, i've never seen him look at somebody like he does with you. Now change into this.” she hands you one of her dresses. You hold it up in the air, you couldn't say no to kitty she doesn't take no for an answer anyways.

—

“I can't believe I'm wearing this and I look good.” you said fixing your dress.

“Told you. He's here…look!" Kitty pointed to Min ho. “I'm going to leave now” Kitty got up from her seat when Min ho started walking towards you.

“Kitty what, no.” you tried to stop her while she was already walking away. You started to panic how were you going to talk to this attractive guy, that is way out of your league.

“Is anybody sitting here?” Min Ho said.

“Here? Oh no. no one. Sit.” you said a little too quickly, you were shaking your leg to try to calm down.

“Are you okay?” he put his hand on your thigh, you didn't answer, you looked at his hand on your thigh then looked back up at him. Your eyes were wide, heart beating faster than it was before.

“Oh sorry” he took his hand off of your thigh “So why did you come to kiss?” He continue talking like nothing happened.

“To be closer to Kitty she's like my only friend and also she said it was nice here so…”

“I mean it is, if you ever want me to show you around i could.” he offered. You shook your head and laughed. “What is it?” you could tell he was sort of offended.

“Nothing Kitty just told me you were a pain in the ass, but you're actually nice.”

“Of course, nice to pretty girls like you.” he smiled. Kitty told you that he thought he was the hot shit, and you hated that in guys but for some reason you just found yourself attractive to him.

“Thanks, you're not too bad yourself.” you nudged him

—

2 weeks later

“First A+ of the semester.” you danced with kitty.

“And we did it together.” kitty said “hows you and Min ho by the way, you haven't been talking about him”

“Nothing, I think we are just friends but I don't really know when somebody likes me.”

“I see it he definitely does just go for it i mea-” kitty stops talking when she sees you looking at a text on your phone “your smiling it's him!”

“I have to go tutor Min ho bye.” you grab your backpack and open the door.

“Remember what I said!” Kitty yells.

“I will!”

—

“Done” Min ho hands you a paper. You look at the paper and realize most of the answers are wrong.

“Min ho you forgot to subtract.” you told him, you've been telling him this for the last 3 days and he keeps forgetting.

“Sorry I keep getting distracted.”

“Is it your phone? Turned it off.” you reach for his phone but he grabs it before you can.

“No it's this girl.”

“A girl?” you look up at him not sure what to say next.

“Yes this girl, i want to ask her on a date but i'm not sure if she likes me. She gives me mixed signals. What should I do?” he asks.

“Oh um.” you know right now you need to not sound jealous. “Just ask her out, if she says no then she's missing out.”

“Alright… will you go out with me?” you look at him stunned.

“Me. why?” you say confused you're not sure what to say, nobody has ever asked you out before.

“Because I like you.” He says like its so obvious.

“Me? You like me? Is this a prank?” you look around to see if people are looking at you but nobody is.

“No? Why would it be a prank? Do you not like me back?” “I do.. I've just never been on a date before.” you confessed.

“Then i'll be your first.” he smiles and holds your hand.

#min ho #xo kitty #min ho x reader #sang heon lee #Netflix x reader #xo kitty x reader #netflix #why is he so hot I can't

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onlyyourhallucination · 9 months

Note

I love your fics. They get me want to grab the popcorn and enjoy it like a well done movie/show. Anyhow, your requests? For the 200 followers? Is it still open? If so! I got a plot idea for you. Okay, imagine this. Reader [female], is a trailblazer on the Astral Express. One of the badass members ofc. They got chemistry building up with Dan Heng and/or pinning hard for each other. BUT, somehow the reader is sent way back to the past... To the before the Sedition of Imbibitor of Lunae / when the High-Cloud Quintet wasn't disbanded. Reader , while trying to hide their origins and where they came from, tries to blend in. They can't change the past but dragged into the High-Cloud group. They also try to hard to distance themselves from Dan Feng, who is somehow attached/attracted to reader. Like he tries to confess... But reader is like trying to let him down gently. Eventually, the reader the reader sent back to the future. They get together finally with Dan Heng. You can add/change whatever you want to this request. Just make it happy ending. If you want to clear things up, jut message me. Thanks!

Past, Present, Love

Pairing : Imbibitor Lunae [ Dan heng ] x Reader

A/n : I am quite not sure if the Danheng you requested is already in his IL form yet, so I'll.. Just write it when he is already in his IL form.

Also thank you for your support! 🩵

Him constantly worrying over small things that happened to you, whenever you got hurt he'll scold you, gently for being reckless.

Him always going with you wherever you go, as long as you're safe and okay, he said.

Everyone know how obvious he is when it comes to his feelings, him doing something outside what he usually do just for you

Him going outside his boundaries for you, so that you can, pay attention to him.

Protective over you. Perhaps, a little bit overprotective for you who haven't even start dating yet.

What are you doing? Why are you not confessing yet?

Have I mention how he is easily flustered around you? For whatever that you do to make him feel embarrassed.

His face may not show it, but the shaky sigh and his tail that sways and hit the floor ever so slightly from the frustration and embarrassment.

Him constantly clearing his throat for no absolute reason is a sign for you that he is beyond flustered.

It was just one of the casual day, sitting on the high class, and fancy red couch in the express while playing with your phone.

Dan heng is in the archives, doing his thing. Like usual, you're getting bored, so you asked for himeko's permission to go visit xianzhou, she raised an eyebrow at the request, but eventually lets you. She was about to ask if she should call for Danheng to company you, because, aeons, he will despise the idea of you going out alone.

But you rejected the offer and wanted to go alone, she was a bit skeptical, but then oblige to your wishes. And so you left the express, alone.

To xianzhou you went, walking around, eventually ended up at scalegorge waterscape, the place where Danheng split the ocean into half. You remember that scene like the back of your hand, he looks majestic when he did so.

You were walking towards the statue, the most appealing to you, slowly approaching it looking up at it.

Dan Feng, huh.

You thought to yourself, your hand slowly reaching out to the statue, but before you could touch it, a bright light suddenly comes out of nowhere, making you instinctively covering your eyes.

Ringing in your ears lasted for a few second, after the ringing is out, you slowly shook your head and open your eyes. Blinking multiple times as you tried to register what just happened,

"I, never seen you around before" a familiar voice rings into your ear, you turned to see a familiar figure. You can't deny that, it's, Danheng. But, something's not right.

The familiar figure stared down at you, rising a brow confusedly at you. You both ended up staring in silence for a good minute, "Can you talk?" He cuts off the silence as he approached you. "Yeah, definitely. Uh, sorry for staring." You apologized, you frowned upon the way he talks.

He talks like he doesn't know you, well is it not obvious from how he said that he never see you before. And the next second another family face appeared, blade? With white hair, you are now getting even more confused.

Until you see Jingyuan that's, rather young.

You're sent to the past, well shit, you cursed under your breath. You definitely have to find a way to go back. To your timeline.

But the day after your encounter with Dan, Feng. He had always been, around you more than you expected him to be.

The more you tried to avoid him, the more times you'll see him around. Him constantly being close to you, and helped you with his gentle touch and healing whenever you got hurt.

"Becareful next time" , "Try not to be reckless, think before taking action" , "Why do I care? Hm, I do not know, It's an instinct I believe."

You don't know what to feel, and everything does not go according to your plan when he dropped subtle hints of him taking interest in you.

"Is there anything you like to do?" , "I bought this for you," .."oh, you, don't want it? ... it's okay."

Aeons, you pray that he stopped doing that, numerous times you tried to reject him. But the way he looked dejected made you feel guilty, the way his eyes lowered in disappointment when you rejected his offers, presents even, so you, accepted a few. Just to ease the guilt, but you know very well that it's useless for him to give things to you.

You can't bring them back to your timeline, you stared down at the simple present he gave you, it's a pair of earrings.

You remember how his face lightens up when you accepted his present, you sighed softly at the memory. You gently graze your finger tips at the esrrings, now you miss him.

Him who? Dan heng. The man that you know, that you love. You wonder if he will look for you, you don't know how long it has been ever since you got sent back to the past.

You accidentally got involved into the high cloud group, it was not the intention to get involved but dan feng. That man is quite stubborn that he unconsciously dragged you into the group.

You silently prayed every night for you to open your eyes not in the room you're currently in, but back to the express or back to the scalegorge waterscape.

. . .

And you did.

Thanks to that same ear ringing, followed with the light that shines bright out of nowhere.

You opened your eyes once again, and instead of staring at the ceiling of the unfamiliar room. You're greeted with the smell of the sea, also open skies.

You slowly rised from the ground, you look next to you, the statue standing tall and soon after you heard footsteps from the distance. The step quickens as you tried to look who's coming over, but before you could process what happened, you're engulfed into someone's arms.

You can feel the person's heart beating so fast, when you registered who the person is, you immediately wrapped your arms around the figure.

Danheng, he' shaking. Trembling in fear? Worry? "Dan h-" "Please. Don't do that again." He cuts you off, he sounded so desperate, his hug tightens around you.

He buried his face at the crook of your neck, his breathing slows down, matching yours. His arms slowly loosen as he took a step back, his teal eyes staring at yours.

He clenched his teeth as he looked away, "Dan heng.." he moved his eyes back towards you. "... I'm sorry" you whispered, his eyes widen slightly. He opened his mouth, but then he closed it again. He then frowned, before he looked at you once more.

Slowly leaning close to you, you instinctively leaned closer too, "I like you" you whispered before both of your lips collided.

The kiss is soft, and gentle. But it feels like he stole your breath away when he pulled away, "..I, kept.. going around, and around" he said in a whisper. "I thought.." he stopped half way as he pull you closer into him by the waist, "... Don't leave without me" he said as he buried his face at the crook of your neck once more.

"I won't, I promise.."

. . .

You were just taking off your coat until you heard something fell out, you frowned and looked down to see a small box that's, rather. Familiar.

"oh my god.." you slowly reached out to it, you hesitantly opened it. And it reveals, the earrings Dan Feng gave you. Your fingers grazed along the lines of the earrings, and the next second you felt a pair of arms around your waist.

"What is that?" A familiar voice appeared right next to your ear, "..A pair of earrings" you replied. You can feel him frowning, "It's not from anyone, don't worry. I, ... bought it because it's, ..pretty." you explained. He hummed softly as he kissed your neck, "..It looks exquisite indeed." He agreed.

You silently thanking aeons for him not asking any further, you slowly turned around and wrapped your arms around him. Kissing his cheeks, you let out a chuckle.

"What?"

"Nothing, I like you Danheng. I love you."

"... I love you too."

©onlyyourhallucinations ; do not copy/translate

A/n : I, hope you like this! Thank you for requesting! Reblogs are always appreciated! 🩵

( 1/5 )

#honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #hsr x you #star rail x reader #dan heng #dan heng honkai star rail #dan heng hsr #dan heng x gender neutral reader #dan heng x reader #imbibitor lunae x reader #imbibitor lunae

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tonowarii · 1 year

Note

can i request a tsu'tey x dreamwalker!reader where he just indulge them in their rambles about earth?? reader is just talking about the most random things like cats and he's just there sitting next to her, listening. could be fem or gn reader, up to u!

(im a sucker for tsu'tey lmao)

and you shall receive!! ❤️ i'm sorry this took too long omg

tsu'tey te rongloa ateyitan x gn! dreamwalker! reader

Tsu'tey would rather feed himself to a thanator than to admit that one of his most awaited (and favorite) past times is where he's sat beside you, hearing you ramble on about anything and everything about your home town, which was earth. A planet away.

Now, his eyes carefully watched you as you made all these gestures from your hands as every expression you made enchanced your story.

Then something sparked in your head as you pointed a finger.

"Now, I don't know if this is a coincidence but have you noticed that we- or the na'vi look like cats!" You turned to Tsu'tey.

Tsu'tey's brows furrowed. What in Eywa was a "cat" and why does it look like them?

"What is a cat?" Tsu'tey asked, hoping that it further indulged you in your rambling.

You gasp out loud like what he said was something blasphemous. It had him confused.

"Okay, cats! Where do I start?" You think for a moment before you used your hands to show him an approximate size of cats back on earth. "They're this small... Wait is this correct... That reminds me I haven't seen a cat in a long time.." You battled with yourself as Tsu'tey chuckled.

Knowing someone was listening to you, you went back on explaining. "They're this small, at least I think so," You think again. "And they have ears like us." You said, pointing at his ears. "They have noses like us too." Then pointing at his nose.

"And don't forget about the tails, they have that too." You say, motioning to Tsu'tey's tail who was curled next to yours as you sat beside each other.

Tsu'tey nods, following your words.

"But they can be quite mean sometimes... And annoying, but we, humans, love them nonetheless." You added.

"Ah, can they.. Speak?" Tsu'tey asked.

"No, not really they just.. Meow." You answered.

Tsu'tey chuckled at the sound you made. Truly this 'cat' sounds something he'd like to see up close due to your impressive storytelling.

"Then why do you find them annoying?" He continued to ask more questions, getting to hear your voice being filled with wonder as you reminisced truly had an effect on him.

There was indeed no one like you.

"As far as I can remember, they tend to whine at me begging for more food when I just fed them!" You laugh. "I had a cat once and gods," You sighed.

"He always knocks things off of my table back in my house."

Tsu'tey seems amused. "Like- he would just look at me and let's say there was a pen on the table, he'd look at me-" You say, looking at Tsu'tey to demonstrate how he'd look.

"And he's using his little paw and his audacity to flick it off the table!"

Even though Tsu'tey couldn't understand parts of your sentence he truly felt that it annoyed you, but your smile said otherwise.

"Am I... like cat?" Tsu'tey asked.

Your eyes widened and you laughed. "I mean, yes.. Well yea actually now that I think about it-"

"You find me annoying?" He tilts his head, smirk now forming his mouth.

You quickly shake your head. "No! No! You are far from annoying." You defensively state.

"But you are like a cat." You smile up at him.

"How so?"

You laugh as you think of the reasons, holding a finger up for each one.

"One, you like to climb, don't you? Second, you have this habit of staring at people like you're judging them-"

"I do not do that-"

"Yes you do. Third, you like to be clingy when no one's around and when you're faced with other people you're suddenly this big intimidating creature." You laugh as Tsu'tey scrunches his face.

"I do not like this anymore."

You laugh further, leaning onto him as his arm suddenly wrapped around your shoulder, pulling you close to him.

"See, you are a cat, Tsu'tey, ma yawne."

He shakes his head with a small smile on his face.

"Oh! And fourth, you purr." You giggle, nuzzling yourself on his chest, indeed hearing a faint purring from him as you lay close.

Tsu'tey shakes his head, rubbing your arm as you thought about another topic you could talk his ear off of.

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madebyrolo · 2 months

Text

Pretty Girl

Rafe Cameron x reader

she/her

summary: y/n being best friend friends with Sarah has her always over at her house. Over the years she's grown a crush on her older brother Rafe. Best friends brother, will it ever happen?

soft! Rafe Cameron

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ღ ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

Y/n sitting on her stomach, legs crossed behind and her head in her hands. Her and Sarah were talking about her boyfriend Topper, the same old convo how she wants to break up. Shes heard it all before, her past exs wanting more, not wanting more, boring, too crazy, getting the ick, losing feelings or just wanting too.

Topper was nice, and her favorite. Be always came with gifts and a small bouquet of flowers for her stepmom or y/n depending on who she was with at the time. He was studious, honor roll student who rarely got Bs, trust fund, boring kook. Never wanting anything out of line or dangerous. He 100% dates to marry.

“Topper he just isn't what I want. He's sweet and kind but I need some fun, someone who isn't scared of breaking rules-” Sarah said before someone came in.

“Sarah have you seen the remote”’ he asked.

Rafe Cameron, Sarahs brother.

He was your typical college frat boy, getting into trouble, a ladies man, partys every weekend. Boy he was hot, he was 19.

The older boy who always teased y/n when he had the chance, yet payed little attention. He threw her in the pool by sweeping her off her feet (metaphoricallyand physically), always throwing small objects at her. Calling her pet names like sweetie, chick, and his favorite, monkey. He only did these things because he loved to see her flustered. Here eye shape becoming big them small, the red creeping on her cheeks, and the way she put her fingers on her mouth as a nervous tick. Though y/n didn't mind it, it was attention from him and she didn't care how it was. That's how a crush basically is.

He sooner looked over his sister on her chair to the bed seeing his favorite teenager.

“Awe monkeys here” he said with a smile a little too genuine.

“Nice to see you too Rafey” y/n greeted him back.

“Have you guys seen the remote, I wanna watch the game” he asked again

“Uh no we haven't been on it. Ask weezy” y/n answered

“Cool cool thanks” he said shutting the door behind him.

“But we did watch it like not even an hour ago?” Sarah questioned

“Yea but he called me monkey” They shared giggles

“Ok back to topper” asarah said counting the convoy

As y/n somewhat listened she couldn't help but think about Rafe. Even tho there's a age gap she kept wondering what would ever happened if she got a chance.

🝮 🝮

If I could be a pretty girl I'll wear a skirt for you.

Everytime she wore a skirt she would always compliment her. Saying “you clean up nice” and maybe taking a peak.

And I could be a pretty girl, shut up when you want me too.

He always would “complain” how she would chew loud, laugh to loud, always singing or humming a tune and hell she even lives too loud. He always teased her yet he loved everything she did.

And I could be a pretty girl I'll never make you blue.

Rafe would always complain about his “hoes”. How they were too clingy, annoying, cared too much or always assuming he was cheating because that's his reputation. They were mostly gold diggers and often too naive to understand that Rafe just wanted to fuck. That's what people thought, but Rafe just wanted someone to understand him.

And I could be a pretty girl I'll lose myself in you.

God, she would be completely his. Deleting everyone off her phone so it'll just be him. She would love him like he's never been loved before, showing him how soft and warm it could be.

Memories swarmed her head of them together.

Her and Rafe having a dance party when she was 13 and he was 16, she was waiting for Sarah to come back from piano lessons and she was running late. Rafe didn't want to leave her alone so he put music on and danced with her until Sarah arrived. They jumped and giggled around, Rafe spinning her occasionally, and giving her piggyback rides. He even taught her how to ball room danced.

Another one with all of them baking cookies from scratch. Sarah set up the ingredients all organized in their steps, she assigned them their jobs trying to perfect her cookie recipe. y/n was in charge of mixing and Rafe forming them into the shapes. As y/n began adding the ingredients as Sarah called them, Rafe grabbed the flour for her, and “accidently” dumping it all over her.

“rafe ....” y/n called out trying not to lose her shit

“Have fun ladies !” she said speed walking out the kitchen.

“RAFE CAMERON!” she yelled out chasing the boy out the kitchen door

“That's my name don't wear it out!” he yelled out from the hallway

And one not too recent, topper was over for a pool day with them. Topper and Sarah spending time together and y/n just swimming around the pool alone before Rafe joined her. She was doing laps right as Rafe cannoned ball right in her way almost hitting her.

“Rafe Cameron you almost hit me!” she said splashing him.

“Yeah yeah I wasn't even close, I made sure not to. Can't risk hurting my monkey. They're endangered!” he said soon shaking her hair and getting the water out directly at her.

She closed her eyes as the water drops hit her. If she wasnt already in the water she would've been mad but what can she do.

Soon Topper and Sarah came out from the house joining them

“Guys let's play a game of chicken!” Sarah exclaimed

“I call y/n” Rafe said pulling the girl close to him. She turned to him face to face their nose so close to touching

“Didn't expect to see you on Toppers shoulder now” she snarked at him

“Ok first of all he would be on Top.” he explained

“Oh I bet” she giggled Sarah doing the same

“what? EW NO Y/N” Rafe yelled out just wanted to vomit

“Come on let's just play” Topper said as he followed Sarah in the pool

Rafe went underwater letting y/n hop on his shoulders. As he felt her on he emerged gripping his hands on her thighs, making sure his hands weren't to high up to make her uncomfortable.

“My hands at a safe distance?” he asked while looking up the the girl.

“Yes Rafe thanks” she said blushing. Rafe this close to her and his hands on her made her heart beats like crazy.

And last but not least her favorite mememories of him.

Y/n came over to Sarah house crying over her now ex boyfriend. She expected Sarah to be there but she wasn't, and she was in the hallways in tears in search for her best friend. Rafe heard the front door open so he went to check who it was, as we went down stairs he saw y/n. Her eyes sad filled to the brim with tears, her eye makeup smudged, her hyperventilating all alone in the living room. He immediately went to her aide, sitting down besid her.

“Hey hey hey, shhh I'm hear. It's Rafe calm down you're okay. Youre safe I'm here.” he said above a whisper, pulling her into his shoulder letting her calm down.

After a few minutes of crying it out, she pulled apart.

“Oh god I'm sorry Rafe..” she said looking at the big tear and mascara stain on his shirt

“It's fine I have more shirts but I don't have another you.” he said moving hair out of her face.

“So you wanna talk about what happened?” he asked

“Jackson cheated on me” she said as a tear rolled down her face

“He what?” He said standing up getting defensive

“Yes I found out this morning.”

“That little dick. He kept begging topper to set him up with you. Always asking about you, like your favorite candy, books like if he wanted to be your boyfriend he should know right? He was obsessed with you, always staring and gawking at you” he said disgusted

“Honeymoon phase is real.” she joked

“And he had the nerve to cheat? He was practically on his knees for you? He even bought you a ring the other day too, for your 2 year anniversary. 2 years and he still didn't know what color jewelry you liked.” he said with a breathy laugh rubbing his hand on his jaw.

“he got me a ring...” y/n said looking up at him with curiosity in her eyes

“Oh y/n no, no! I can get you a damn ring if you want, here take this one.” he said handing you his ring that was way too big for any of your fingers.

“That one was the 2nd pair to this one. See look now we both are matching” he said with a smile

“Thank you Rafe” she said as he sat down beside her letting her lay her head on shoulder.

“He doesn't know that I know yet…” she said twildling the ring between her fingers.

“I have an idea” Rafe said getting up and dragging her with him.

Rafe and Y/n were standing in front of Jacksons house. It was midnight Kelce had spray paint and Trooper has concrete mix and eggs, and Sarah was keeping watch. The plan was to obvious, graffiti his car and then dumb the concrete mix around the lawn, they were gonna get heavy rainfall tonight. Rafe grabbed the red can and went straight to his bmw. He shook the can taking the lid off and tracing the words dick, cheater, extra small, and douche. Kelce went to disconnect and steal their hose so they couldn't wash anything off the next morning, and y/n and Topper started making a mess. She threw the eggs on the house, avoiding the windows and doors to avoid waking them up, and his car too. Rafe decided just to dump the mix in his gas tank.

After 15 minutes they were done, the car was destroyed, house was egged and kelce managed to sneak some contraband into his car in hopes to get him into more trouble. As they headed back to Rages truck, they shut the door and immediately started yelling and getting excited

“Dude that was so sick. Why haven't we done this?” kelce asked

“This is just easing him into the revenge, he should be lucky. This is just the start my friends” Rafe said as he began driving away.

The whole week Rafe has tormented the boy, and y/n has been ignoring every call and message. She thanked them by making them a pasta dinner with dessert and drinks. Once she finished cleaning up she found Rafe

“Thank you Rafey, I'm glad your crazy other wise I would've been sulking in my room right now” she said giving him a side hug

“No biggie, you mess with the people I love kill what you love” he joked

“Aw you love me” she teased

“How can I not? Monkey are the most interesting animals, we came from them” he ruffled her hair.

🝮 🝮

As she snapped back into the convo she realized that chance or no chance she would still have Rafe supporting her no matter what. She was fine with that, boyfriend, brother, friend, family whatever. She was grateful for the bond she had with him, it was unbreakable. She loved him and he loved her. Maybe in the way she had hope but that didn't matter much now, after he was just a silly crush.

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not proof read/edited

Hope you guys likes this short fluff

🧡

#rafe cameron #soft rafe cameron #drew starkey #obx netflix #rafe fic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe x you #rafe concepts #rafe fluff

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twd-l0ver · 6 months

Text

I can't

It's been 3 days since you had seen Daryl since the argument. You were starting to believe he hadn’t really cared since he hasn't showed up. You hadn't told anyone about the situation because if you did you'd cry. Not knowing what to do you got comfortable on the sofa and started reading 'Desire Unchanted'.

After a couple minutes of reading there was a sudden knock on the door without giving it thought, you opened the door to be faced with Rosita and baby Socorro. You immediately light up at the sight of them. "Hello mamas, how are you?" You say in a sweet baby voice to Coco. "I wish you would greet me like that everyday" Rosita chuckled. You laughed and hugged Rosita letting them in.

" How have you been, I haven't seen you outside like you usually are?" You sighed "I've been through hell for the past couple of days" . "Why, what happened?" You raised your brows and blew air "oof well let's start with... I found out I'm pregnant 2 weeks ago..." "WHAT, oh my god, congratulations! Does Daryl know??" She said with a smile beaming on your face but seeing your not so happy expression it slowly faltered. "How do you feel about it are you happy?"

"I am but.., when I went to go see Daryl a couple of days ago", tears started swelling in your eyes as Rosita got up to sit next to you, Coco instantly reached out for you as you lifted her to your lap. " I had the box to give to him but before I could he told me had something to tell me" your voice hitched at the thought of it, "he basically told me he cheated on me, a whole argument broke out but it felt like I was talking to a wall, so really I was just arguing with myself, before I left I threw the box over to him and just left.

Your face was now stained with hot tears. Rositas face was in disbelief, " hijo de su puta madre (son of a bitch), how could he- why would he!?" "That's what I said but he told me nothing, I told him to come find me because I was done, it's been three days since, and I blame myself because I feel like I wasn't good enough" . "Hey! Don't say that he's the stupid one who wasn't good enough for YOU, he was to blind to see the best woman for him so don't blame yourself for his actions".

You looked up at her with a sly smile "Thank you Rosa" you say leaning your head on your shoulder, "anytime I'm always here when you need me" she assured resting her head atop of yours.

After sitting for a couple of minutes she got up picking up Coco from your lap "you know what instead of just sitting here let's do something, how about we cook?" You beamed with joy at the mention of food "ooo yes, we have to ask Carol for her book".

Walking out the house you bumped into something hard, looking up you saw it was none other than Daryl. Your body tensed as you made eye contact with him. "Can we talk?" You turn to face Rosita as she's making daggers at him, "Rosa how about you go get the stuff ready and I'll come and get you?" She nodded her head , walking forward slightly nudging Daryl in the shoulder as she left.

You nodded your head to let Daryl in. You stared at him waiting for him to speak. "Can we sit?" "Mhm" . As you both sat across from each other he handed you a bag, you looked into to it and seen it was baby items, a small smile appeared on your face "thank you".

"Y/N I jus' wanna start of with I'm sorry for what I did t' you, I'm sorry fo' what I put yea' through the last couple of days. Wha' I did has no ex'cuse, but that night was meaningless t'a me. It was a huge m'stake riskin' what we have. I can wait as long as yea' need me t'a. I want t'a make it right I want t'a make it work fo' our kid and us I kno' it's gonna take time but I can wait as long as yea' need me t'a hope yea' can f'give me. Because I still love you."

You sat there for a second tears threatening to spill but not falling. Taking in a shaky breath, exhaling with a big blow you spoke.

" I know you're sorry Daryl I know you are, but what you did, it did mean something because there has to be a reason to why you did it. That's something I still want you to explain to me. And you don't have to worry about having to make it work for our kid because we are going to no matter what. And yes it's going to take a while but Daryl I can't..."

"I can't forgive you just yet because, it still hurts, although I'm hurt, I'm not going to deny the fact that I still love you because we have together for years"

" I jus' needed somethin' at tha' moment an' she was there, I don' kno' any other way to say it was jus; in the momen' "

With a nod you took in a deep intake of breath and got up, Daryl doing the same, walking outside closing the door behind you. "I appreciate it a lot Daryl so thank you. "

" I couldn't jus' leave yea' withou' n' explanation."

Looking up at him you gently wrapped your arms around his neck as he wrapped his arms around your waist just holding each other for a moment. Whispering to you he said "im gonna' make it up to yea'. " " I know you will." Pulling away, you asked " so how do you feel about the whole situation?" You said moving your hands around your stomach.

"I'm alrigh' sorta excited to meet lil bean" "Little Bean?" "Mmm wha'ever" "No no I like little bean" you said giggling, " As much as I would like to talk about 'little bean' I have to go to Carol's."

"mhmm, yea' think I can come by later in the week" "Yes you can Daryl it's still your house." "mk I'll see ya' then" " alrighty bye" you said waving. Turning to walk the opposite direction he was your heart was still aching, but glad he finally spoke to you.

this took me way to fucking long bruh, Im not sure if I even like it 😭 but I hope yall enjoyed it sorry for like the 2 week delay LMAO

taglist : @walker-bait-1973 @littlelovingideas @blackvelveteen1339 @lunajay33 @pandarooooo-blog @sweetz1919 @targaryenmoony @daryldixmedown @cant-help-simping

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon x reader #twd-l0ver #daryl dixion imagine #daryl x reader #daryl dixon angst #the walking dead #daryl x y/n #daryl dixon x pregnant reader #daryl dixon x y/n #rosita espinosa #twd rosita

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kristlewrites · 6 months

Text

"Limitless"

CW: Oral (F!receiving), nicknames (my girl,baby,mamas), smut, established relationship, unprotected sex

PAIRING: Toji x Blk!FemReader

WC: 1.3k

🫧🗯️: omg...sorry guys it took me so long to put this out, it literally been week since my last fic. I appreciate all the support ive received over my hiatus and you guys enjoy this as well!! Its not proof read since ive been in such a rush to publish this...

MINORS DNI

It was Saturday night. You had just come back from a long shift at the hospital. Slipping off your crocs, you quickly remove your scrubs and lay them on the dining table. You hurry to the bathroom, peeling away all your undergarments and turning up the water. You enter swiftly going straight in and wasting no time scrubbing your body up and down making sure you get all the corners. Stepping out of the shower leaving a little trail of water everywhere you go, you dry your body and moisturize. Putting on your nightgown you finally rest down on your bed, feeling ten times more exhausted than before.

Opening your phone you see you have received a test from your boyfriend. Fighting the urge to sleep, you read it.

‘Roof is leaking. Again .’

‘I'm coming over’

‘How was work?’

You sigh, Tojis house always had something going on. You always offered him to stay over or even move in but he always declined the offer. Maybe it was because he was too proud or maybe he didn't want to be a burden on you, but you always appreciate it when he's here. So that's why you were super excited when he said he was coming over, but that smile faded a little bit when you heard a knock on your door. ‘How'd he get here so fast?' You thought to yourself while removing your covers. You stroll towards the living room going straight for the door. Your little black cat scratching her back against the door. "Watch out baby” you whisper, grabbing your small cat and placing her down away from the door.

Opening the door you are greeted by a 6ft tall man, drenched and with a small bag on his shoulder.

“What happened?”

“I told you, my roof had a leak.” Toji replied a little

“A leak?" You said raising your voice a little “Hello you're soaked, hurry come in”

You say gesturing to him to enter your apartment and him leaving a little trail of water on the floor boards. You make a note to clean it up later. He goes to your bathroom and gets cleaned up. Meanwhile you clean around your apartment, fatigue still plaguing you, you decide to take a rest on the couch until he's done.

You feel a light tap on your shoulder startling you awake. Your eyes focus on the tall man hovering over your face, water droplets drop down on your forehead, you look up and see that Tojis hair still hasn't dried yet. “How long have I been asleep?” You mutter looking around for your phone. “Sit down” you order Toji, grabbing the towel off his shoulder offering to dry his hair. He sits down beneath you on the carpet, grabbing the remote and turning on criminal minds. (litcherally my fave show lmao)

While you are drying his hair you guys talk about your days and recent events taking this time to catch up. Toji looks up at you with a little smile sneaking up his face. You remove his hair from his forehead and affectionately give him a small peck on his forehead. He laughs lightly at your gesture. You feel a sharp pang in your stomach. You think back and realize that you haven't eaten since your lunch break at 5pm?!! “Are u hungry?” You ask Toji, bending your neck so he can see you properly.

“Mm” he thinks “yea” he confirms with a devilish glare on his face. You didn't think anything of it until he turned and geared straight towards your pussy. Shocked, you smash your palm onto his face before he gets to do anything else.

“I asked you if you were hungry..” you say

“I am” He pouts a little, you can feel his frown through your palm.

“Well, not for food clearly” You say rolling your eyes

“Baby please, i haven't seen you in forever” Toji says pleading beneath your hand.

“Fine” You say finally giving in. Almost instantaneously he dives straight for your clit, tearing your panties in the process. You flinch at the contact of his warm tongue meeting your folds. Taking his time he swims his tongue around the surface of your cunt while his hands reach up your nightgown finding your nipples. He twists them with ease causing your whole body to go in circuit. It has been awhile since either of yall have seen each other or even had time for yall selves and maybe that was why you were super reactive to even the slightest of his touch.

“Seems like my girl has missed me too” Toji remarks grinning slightly, referring to your already wet pussy. Leaking out like a faucet. Toji teases your entrance by wagging his tongue just right before it, making you impatient. He uses his hands to pry your thighs open, then he enters your pussy licking your clit up and down. Your back immediately arches at the sensation causing your breath to hitch. He continues to crawl into your pussy lapping up the wetness that was leaking out.

‘Mm’ you moan from the way Toji roams around your cunt, having your brain short circuit from the feeling. Not being able to control yourself you wrap your legs around his back reeling him into you more.

“mmph u gonna suffocate me baby”

“s-sorry” you mumble softly

“Well,” Toji said grinning, “I wouldn't mind dying here,” he says, finishing it off with a chuckle.

You were too brain dead to even react properly, with Toji invading your insides wiggling his tongue inside your cunt. Your toes curled, eyes rolling back, you feel your release almost immediately flooding down onto tojis face. Him lapping up all your juices like a dog.

“So sweet mamas, just how I like it.” He says his face is covered with your orgasm.

He retracts his head from your entrance, raising himself up. You can clearly see the bulge peeking through his sweats. In haste he removes his pants and boxers in one go. Revealing his long throbbing cock. Leaking with pre-cum he smoothly injects it into your pussy causing you to gasp.

"I-it's t-too deep” you mutter

“C’mon it hasn't even been that long has she forgotten me already?” Toji says smirking, sweat pacing down his forehead. He lifts you up, you wrap your legs around him.

“Mm” you moan softly as Toji thrusts you up and down. Your toes curl at the fast pace, you lean your head onto his shoulder resting from the fatigue. How Toji has so much energy you could never understand you swear he is a beast.

“Its okay close your eyes ill take care of everything” Toji whispers softly in your ears. You grip onto his sweaty back for extra support, your black acrylics marking all over. He continues to rock into you until you can feel his dick twitch in your pussy. You feel Toji retract his dick but you stop him.

“N-no i want you to cum in me..” You say breathless and almost on the verge of passing out “Please..i'm on the pill” you whine, you move your hand over your stomach where you can see his bugle imprinted onto you

“Haaa, are you sure?” Toji asks

“Mhm” you nod quietly, tears leaving your eyes.

And with no second to think Toji immediately releases into you shoving all his up your pussy. You can feel his cum leaking out of you as he fills you up.

“Ah” you squeal, cumming as well, flooding down out your pussy attaching to his chest. You both are out of breath.

Both of you were snuggled underneath a blanket, your head resting on his chest listening to his heartbeat. While he was munching on the wings you decided to order wings. You put on twilight. He hates it and thinks it's a waste. Secretly you think he enjoys it but he wants to be different. And the movie fit the atmosphere, it was a rainy October night. What other movies would you guys watch??

#kristlewrites🫧🗯️#black reader smut #blk!fem #toji fushiguro #toji x black reader #black reader #toji x reader #toji x y/n #toji x black y/n #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk x black reader #jjk smut #toji smut #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro x you #toji fushiguro x black reader #toji fanfic

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hbyrde36 · 10 months

Text

Life is a Game (and True Love is a Trophy)

Chapter 2

Ch 1 ao3 link

*Eddie - 1986*

Dustin burst in the door without knocking. A habit Eddie had been trying to break him out of for years. One of these days he’d do it at the wrong time and see something he’ll wish he hadn’t. Maybe then he’d learn his lesson.

“So, don’t freak out but…”

“Ugh” Eddie groaned, pushing his face further into his pillow. “It’s never good when you start a sentence like that. At least let me get some coffee first.”

“Fine.” Dustin relented, stomping back out into the kitchen of the Munson trailer.

Ten minutes later and with coffee in hand, Eddie motioned for Dustin to continue with whatever nonsense he’d woken him up for this morning.

“I told the guys about Steve, about you knowing him.”

“Dustin!” Eddie shouted, incredulously.

“What? It’s not like it’s some big secret or something!”

“You didn’t know!”

“No, I didn't. But I should have realized, and I shouldn’t have said what I did the other night about him. That wasn’t cool. That’s why I told them, because I felt bad, and because I was thinking that maybe we could do a little investigation of our own?”

The kid meant well and it was sweet that he wanted to do something to make Eddie feel better, but what did he think he and a bunch of teenagers would be able to do about it?

Eddie shook his head. “I already told you man, his parents are loaded. I’m sure they left no stone unturned. What could we possibly do that they haven't already tried?”

Dustin’s face spread into a cocky grin. “For starters, Mike talked to Nancy. Did you know she dated Steve for a little while right around the time Will got lost in the woods?”

He had known that actually. In fact he vividly remembered catching the two of them in the boy’s bathroom that one time. He’d never thought about it in reference to Steve’s disappearance before though. The couple had broken up a few months before it happened.

“Yea, okay. So, they dated. What’s that got to do with anything?”

“I'm not sure if it does, but the police never even talked to her. Mike said she was willing to talk to us about him, if you want.”

Eddie couldn’t believe he was actually considering this, but it was hard to deny how intrigued he was to learn more about Steve. Even if it didn’t lead to any answers about what had happened to him.

“You know what? Fuck it. Let's do it.” Eddie declared, slamming his now empty cup down on the table for emphasis.

“Language! I am a child!.” Dustin gasped, in a dramatic impersonation of his mother.

“Shut it, nerd.”

“You literally play D&D with children! Who’s the nerd now?!”

Eddie had never really had a full conversation with Nancy. They said hi in passing, and whenever he came to the house to play with the boys of course, but that was the extent of it. Now he was supposed to sit here in the Wheeler’s basement, like it was any other day, and talk to her about her ex boyfriend. Awkward.

Or, maybe not.

According to Dustin, Nancy knew all about their game, including how she, Steve, and many others were used as characters in it. She understood their curiosity. She herself had always thought that there was something suspicious about the whole thing. That maybe there was more going on in Hawkins than a single missing boy.

“Do you remember the day in the cafeteria, when Steve got into that screaming match with Tommy and Carol?”

Eddie shook his head. “No, but I heard it was brutal.” He’d skipped out early that day to meet up with Rick for more product. The whole school was buzzing about it the next day, he could have kicked himself for missing the show.

“It was. I was shocked. I had never seen him act like that. I know he and I hadn’t been together that long, so I could be wrong, but It seemed so out of character. I mean, everything he said was true, and those two probably deserved it, but the three of them had been best friends for years. He never stood up to them before, so why now? It felt like it came out of nowhere.”

She paused, taking a breath and gathering her thoughts before continuing.

“I remember him looking at me, just before he stormed off when it was all over. He didn’t look mad, it was more like.. I don’t know, scared, maybe?”

Well, that was a little ominous. Eddie and the younger boys shared a look as Nancy got up from her seat on the couch and started pacing.

“He called me later that night and asked me to come over so we could talk. When I got there, he stepped out onto the porch instead of letting me come inside. I didn’t think anything of it at the time, but looking back, it was a little odd. We sat on the steps and he said that he was sorry, but he couldn’t see me anymore. I asked him if there was someone else, but he said no. He just wanted to be single for a while and concentrate on other things. It was fine. I don’t think either of us were too upset about it. We hugged and said our goodbyes, and that was the last time I spoke to him.”

She stopped pacing, standing directly in front of Eddie as she finished her story.

“I still saw him around, of course, and heard about how he quit the school teams. Which seemed weird, because, what was this more important thing he was focusing on? Clearly it wasn’t sports. Then he started skipping school, so it wasn’t about his grades either. I started to wonder if maybe he had gotten into drugs or something.”

Or, he could have just been lying to let you down easy, Eddie thought, but that wasn’t very kind. Instead he said, “If he was, he wasn't getting them from me.”

Dustin gasped. “Wait, dude, are you really a drug dealer?”

Fuck. “Um. No?”

“You are! You’re totally a drug dealer!” Dustin said, bouncing in his seat and pointing a finger in Eddie’s face.

Eddie groaned. “Please stop yelling ‘drug dealer’ before Mike's parents hear you and kick me out!”

“Does that mean you smoke pot?” Lucas asked.

“Can we smoke pot?” Mike added quickly, grinning.

“Absolutely not!” Eddie and Nancy shouted, simultaneously.

He turned to her, hands raised. “For the record, I don’t sell anymore. Not since my supplier went to jail.”

Dustin’s eyes widened slightly. “Oh shit, is Reefer Rick a real person?”

Nancy gave Eddie a hard look.

“What?! We all used people from our life in the game!” He said defensively. “Look, guys, I think we’re getting off track here.”

“Is there anything else weird you remember about Steve from before he disappeared?” Will asked Nancy, speaking for the first time. Eddie threw him a grateful smile.

“Not that I can think of.”

“What about his parents?” Lucas asked.

“I never met them, but he always said his dad was an asshole. The way he talked sometimes, it sounded like they weren’t around a lot.”

The image of it flashed in Eddie’s mind for a moment. Steve, all by himself in that big empty house of his. Haunting its hallways in the middle of the night. He shook his head roughly to clear it.

Maybe it was silly to think of it that way. What teenage boy wouldn’t love having the house to himself? No one hassling you or telling you what to do. He couldn’t explain why, but somehow he didn’t think Steve liked being alone.

Eddie was startled when Nancy placed a hand on his arm. She looked at him, face pinched with concern. He realized suddenly that they were alone. He’d been so lost in thought that he didn’t realize the boys had left. She saw him looking around and explained.

“I sent the boys upstairs for lunch. It looked like you needed a minute.”

“Yea, sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me lately.” He got up to collect his things, and headed towards the basement steps.

“It’s the time of year. I get it, I've been thinking about him a lot too.” She said, following him.

Eddie shook his head. It wasn’t the same, she was allowed to think about Steve. To miss him. What right did Eddie have? “That’s different. You dated the guy. We weren’t even friends.”

“You’re allowed to miss him, Eddie.”

“No, I'm not.”

“He thought you were brave, y’know.”

“What?” He stopped walking, but couldn’t bring himself to turn around to face her.

“He told me once, the first time I sat with him for lunch. You had jumped up on your table, ranting and raving about whatever had bothered you that day.” She sounded amused at the memory. “Tommy and the others sneered and complained, but not Steve. He smiled as he watched you. He said, ‘sometimes I wish I could be brave like that. Just stop caring about what everyone else thinks and be free’.”

He finally looked back at her over his shoulder. She smiled at him kindly, it seemed genuine so he returned the gesture.

“Thanks, Wheeler.”

Eddie didn’t stay to join the boys for lunch, though he did make plans to meet up with them the next day. He needed some time alone to process what they’d learned so far. He did his best thinking in the van, so he drove around town aimlessly, blasting Metallica and trying to sort through it all.

Eventually he made his way to Loch Nora, slowing when he reached Steve’s street. He’d never been inside the Harrington house, but he knew where it was. There was no car in the driveway, so he rolled to a stop in front of it. A ‘For Sale’ sign was stuck in the grass a few feet to the right of the mailbox.

He hadn’t realized Steve’s parents were selling the place. Good, Eddie thought. It would make his next task that much easier. He’d come up with a plan, of sorts, as he cruised around Hawkins. The first step? A good old fashioned breaking and entering.

*Steve - 1983/1984*

Two days after finding Eleven out in the woods, Steve cut ties with all his friends. He made a big scene out of calling Tommy and Carol assholes in the middle of the cafeteria, to really drive the point home. He turned himself into a social pariah overnight, anything to keep people from wanting to get close to him.

He let Nancy go. It was easy enough. He found that he wasn’t even all that upset about it, he knew she wouldn't be too sad either. He’d seen how she looked at Jonathan that day at school, when the news broke that Will was missing. They would get together before too long, he was sure of it.

He quit the swim team, basketball, and only continued going to school because dropping out would be too suspicious. He started skipping days a lot.

Eleven, who he’d taken to calling El for short, needed her own space. He would have loved to decorate the guest room for her, would have let her paint the walls and everything. Unfortunately, his parents still came home on occasion, and it would be too hard to hide. Instead, they worked together to fix up a space for her in the attic. Even when they were home, his parents never went up there.

He didn’t know anything about little girls, but neither did El, so they figured things out together. He set her up with a T.V. to keep her company when he was gone during the day. He gave her a bunch of catalogs to look through, and told her to take a marker and circle anything she liked. Clothes, bedding, curtains, toys, he bought it all. Perks of the Harrington name, and a credit card with a high spending limit.

By the time her attic room was done, she finally felt secure enough to sleep in her own bed. She felt safe in the knowledge that her new brother wouldn’t abandon her as she slept, or lock her inside. Sometimes though, he would wake up to find she’d come into his room in the middle of the night. Almost always when it rained.

They quickly became a little family, he and El. Steve didn’t have any siblings, hadn’t thought he even liked kids, and certainly never knew how much he wanted a little sister until she came along. He taught her what he knew about the world, and in return he learned the importance of patience and kindness. Together, they discovered unconditional love.

For a few wonderful months, life was good. There was a little hiccup in January of ‘84, when eleven accidentally knocked a vase off the counter in the kitchen. It was fine. She caught it with her mind before it hit the floor, then levitated it back upright on the counter. It was the first time she’d used her powers in front of Steve. Powers he had been completely unaware of.

He’d hyperventilated for a while, but once he recovered he explained to her that, ‘No sweetie, I didn’t know you could do that, but it’s fine. I promise. No, I'm not afraid of you. It’s just another part of you, and I love who you are.’

It was another turning point for them, a catalyst that compelled her to explain more about where she came from. What sort of things they did to her at the lab, and she finally told him all about Papa and the other children.

Steve had never pushed her on any of it, happy to just keep her safe, and wait until she was ready to talk. Once she did? Well, he was fucking livid. It was all he could do not to go to the newspapers, or Chief Hopper, and blow the whole thing wide open. Hell, he would have found the place himself and burnt it to the ground if he didn’t know for a fact that there were other kids living inside.

In the end, he did nothing. Too afraid that if he was caught, or worse, there would be no one who knew about El, or where she was. There would be no one to take care of her.

It was all his fault. He should have known better. It was his job to take care of her, and he had failed in that task spectacularly. It was spring break 1984, Easter Sunday. He’d just wanted to take her out to breakfast, something he could remember doing with his own parents for the holiday when he was young. Back when they at least pretended to give a shit about him.

They were as safe about it as they could have been. He picked a small restaurant two towns over, where no one would recognize them. She looked so happy when she smiled at him over her massive stack of waffles.

He didn’t see it for what it was, when the two nondescript white work vans pulled into the parking lot of the diner. Movies had him envisioning a legion of fancy black town cars pulling up on him one day, a swarm of dark suits surrounding him, demanding to know where the girl was. He should have known that Papa would be a bit more subtle.

The bell above the main entrance door dinged as a new customer entered. El looked up reflexively at the sound and her eyes went wide. It was the only warning Steve had before a tall man with white hair and an impeccably tailored gray suit slid into the booth next to him.

“Hello, Eleven. You’re looking well.”

Steve watched as she curled in on herself. Turning back into the little girl he found in the woods right before his eyes.

“Papa.” She gasped, bottom lip trembling.

The man turned to look at Steve. “I’m Dr. Brenner. Now, don’t go getting any big ideas, young man. I have people on every door to this place. You’ll never make it to that pretty car of yours in time, and I can assure you that if you try, they will not hesitate to... deal with the situation.”

Steve froze, not remotely prepared for this scenario. He didn’t know what to do and was scared of making a misstep. He wasn’t afraid for himself, he didn’t care what happened to him, but he was terrified for El, and the possibility of losing his sister forever.

“Here’s what's going to happen.” Brenner continued. “Eleven is going to leave this place with me, right now. You, Mr. Harrington, yes I know all about you, are going to go back to your life and forget that any of this ever happened. If you so much as think about telling anyone what you’ve seen, we will know, and we will come for you.”

“I’m not going to just let you take her.” Steve protested, heart pounding.

“You don’t have a say in the matter.”

“If you take her then you’ll have to take me too!” Steve raised his voice a little too loudly, drawing the attention of the other diners.

“That’s not an option.” Brenner hissed. “I have no need for someone like you”

Steve lowered his voice to a whisper, knowing that angering the man further wasn’t going to help. “I’m not leaving her. I’ll die first. You’ll have to kill me right here and now in front of all these people. Do you really want to make that big of a scene?”

Steve could tell the man was considering it. “Please.“ He begged. “I'm sure you can find some use for me. I’ll do anything.”

Brenner sighed. “Very well. You will both follow me outside. Leave your car keys on the table, Steven, you won’t be needing them.”

The man slid out of the booth, threw more cash than necessary on the table, and walked out the door.

Steve scrambled out of his seat at the same time El did, and they collided in a desperate embrace. She was shaking, crying. Steve ran his fingers through her short curls.

“I'm sorry El, I'm so sorry. I shouldn’t have brought you here.”

She looked up at him, blinking through tears. “It’s not your fault, they would have found me eventually, one way or another.”

“I’ll get us out of this somehow, I promise.”

She took a small step away from him and shook her head. “No, Steve. You have to let him take me. Only me. You have a life, parents, a family.”

He shook his head, taking her small hand in his. “You are my family El. I’m not leaving you. We’re in this together. You and me, always.”

Chapter 3

@penny00dreadful @buckleybarnes @steddie-there @yeahhhh-suga @goinsteddie @brbsoulnomming @the-s-is-silent @paintsplatteredandimperfect @estrellami-1 @herebedragons404 @epiclazershark @iaminmultiplefandoms @adaed5 @mentallyundone @hardboiledleggs @hotshot9 @manda-panda-monium

#steddie #steddie fanfic #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #ao3 #steve harrington/eddie munson #steve x eddie #fanfic #ao3 link #life is a game #Canon is just a crazy game of D&D #alternating pov #Eddie Munson and Dustin Henderson are cousins #Steve Harrington and Eleven taking care of eachother

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littledollll · 1 year

Note

Can I please request a Larissa x English teacher reader. R has mental health issues and had a habit of isolating themselves when it gets bad but because of having Larissa they haven't done this in a few yea

R ends up having a really bad week (they overheard students or teachers making fun of them/their teaching) because of this they end up isolating for a few weeks causing people to be really concerned.

Larissa eventually finds r hiding in a fort they made in an abandoned part of the school with a pile of books they've been using to escape their thoughts.

Ends with Larissa comforting r while they explain what's been happening with them and Larissa tells them how perfect they are and that they are valuable and that she loves them?

Comfort crowd

Larissa weems x teacher!reader

A/n: Im so sorry this took so long, writers block is kicking my ass recently Omg. I kinda like this though and I hope you do too! Thank you for your request.

Warnings: self isolation, students being little shits (but they love u) idk what else.

Mental health had always been an issue for you, something you’ve learned to handle over the years but Larissa had never seen you like this. One of the many reasons you fell inlove with her was because of how she made all your problems feel so much lighter, you felt safe and understood by her and she was always more than happy to help and support you through anything.

Lately it’s been getting worse. The pressure around you was too much and the new batch of students this year really did a number on you. They were impossible to deal with, and you’ve overheard them openly complain about you and your class. It’s never unusual for students to complain but never had it felt so personal, they were directly criticizing the class.

At first you ignored it, you kept showing and doing your classes but the more tired you seemed the more they decided to misbehave and make class impossible. It felt like they were directly trying to upset you, round of applause for them because it worked. One day you just stopped showing up.

At first the students were happy, who doesn’t love a free hour? But as the days passed they started getting concerned, they never really hated you all that much, but it was fun to mess around and not get work done, and maybe have a laugh whenever you were visibly frustrated. After a week of not hearing from you they came to Larissa about it.

She mentioned she was already aware and currently searching for you since you stopped meeting with her for your usually lunches together and date nights.

It wasn’t long before she found you, hidden away in the old and abandoned music room, the lights worked but barely. You had a comfortable little spot set up, books everywhere, a kind of fort sent up with the chairs in the room effectively hiding you from anyone who didn’t look too close. There wasn’t much around you but it was clear this is where you had been for the past week.

Larissa didn’t want to disturb the peace you had created for yourself, but she was concerned never had she seen you run away, much less completely disappear. Yes sometimes you’d take days off and keep the rest of the world out but back then you still let her in, so what happened that caused you to shut her out too?

Her hand raised and she knocked on one of the chairs announcing her presence, snapping you out of your concentration as you sat on the floor reading one of the many books with you.

“You’ve built yourself quite the hideaway.” Larissa was first to speak, you were met with that trademark beautiful and comforting smile only she seemed seemed to have. Nodding, you have her a sad smile back, though in your eyes she saw relief at the sight of her.

She looked to the space next to you, silently asking to be let in to your little comfort bubble, again you nodded, and as soon as she sat down her hands cupped your face, trying to get a good look at you, you hummed, leaning into the warmth of your touch.

“What happened, my love?” The dreaded question. How could you tell her the job and kids she loved so much were eating away at you. Draining you until you simply couldn’t show face. “The students were asking about you, some made their way to your room trying to check up on you as well.”

“They sure didn’t act like they cared how I was when I was present, they don’t care for the class and certainly don’t respect me, I hate to admit how much it got to me.” You sounded bitter, but more than that just hurt. She only pulled her hands away from you to wrap you in a hug, which you happily sank into, God you missed her.

“Why didn’t you tell me if they were acting up?” you sighed and hid into her chest. “What kind of teacher can’t get their room in control so bad they need to call in the principal.”

“Oh many, most of them really! If they aren’t rude and tough from the get-go the students will drive them insane. You are not the first and will not be the last. But they have no real intent to hurt you, I promise you that. I can’t tell you the amount of students who started asking about you on day two of your secret hideaway.”

You looked at her questioningly. Was she being serious? She gave you a nod and continued. “They trust you. They talk to and about you like you’re a friend, sometimes that causes issues, there’s a line that they cross alot. And when you act like more of a teacher than their friend it makes them upset. They’ll get used to it, and we will talk to them.”

“Riss, they make me feel like any attempt I do at doing my job is horrible. How come no other teachers have this problem if it’s so common?” You countered with a sigh.

“Some of them are, some of them did and their solution was to cut being friendly and start being overly strict, and with that you get the issue of being the class after the strict teacher. They get to talk more, have a little more freedom and it makes them lose control.”

You do remember hearing them complain about how the biology teacher would take away points, quote “any time we breathe too loud”. You always thought teachers like that were horrible.

“You are doing nothing wrong, my love. They need to learn control and respect and we will work on that together. You are an extremely valuable member of this school, to staff, to your students and most of all to me. You don’t need to hide from me darling, I’m here to help, support and love you. Allow me to do so.”

And just like that Larissa Weems yet again, made all your problems feel lighter. You didn’t have to handle anything alone, not as long as she was here.

#gwendoline christie #larissa weems #principal larissa weems #larissa weems x reader #larissa weems fluff #Larissa weems comfort #principal weems #wednesday nevermore

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deadpool15 · 6 months

Text

You think you got a chance?

I decided to go to the store, the fridge is looking mad empty right now. Which is extremely difficult for me, with the whole being a mom of a 1 year old boy. Yea, I said a boy, I gave birth to a male specimen. Boys, moms truly don't get enough credit because the shit my son puts me through is just wild. This is what happens when you don't want kids but decide to go out there being a honey freaky fuck yall. Better learn.

I walk into my bedroom, trying to nativgate my closet for an outfit. You see the thing about being a mom means that you need to make sure you child looks so fucking good. Spoiler alert, no one gives a single fuck about you if your child is walking around here looking like dog shit. "Yall know exactly who I'm talking about. I'm not calling you out baby, I'm simply calling you out though. Fight your issues not me." I said to the camera, completely forgetting I'm supposed to be vlogging with my son today.

Speaking of son, I should totally go walk him up. I managed to get him all ready for the day. And then he fucked around and went to sleep, you see some parents try not to let there kids go to sleep because of naps not really being the best for a busy day. "So, yall Cameron is rocking this cozy hoodie that says cookie monster and just some slighty baby jeans with his lil uggs. It's cold out here in Korea, so I'm gonna grab his puffer jacket to make sure he doesn't get cold. But yqll know Cameron does not like that fucking jacket so I always carry his on the go blanket cuz he expects to be picked up and carried around with that blanket thrown on him. The struggle is real. Now as yall can see I look like shit I haven't gotten ready. So I'm gonna wear this crop long sleeve with these pattern-like pants.

I walk into the closet, grabbing the camera to show off the fit(the one above). "Listen, I know I said it was cold, but if you think about it, it's not like really cold, is it? You know what? Don't answer that. I'm wearing the fit because it makes the curves pop. For the girls that question about confidence, I low-key feel like that as backhand ass compliment. Because trust and believe if I was a smaller pretty petite ass bitch no one would ask. I am my own beauty standard representing all the thick girls in Korea. For example, if you are sitting in front of your phone watching this video talking about how you didn't have a stomach until this happened or this happened, stop lying. Yall I've always been a big girl, my son didn't have anything to do that, if anything he taught me how to embrace my body."

"Yall will truly not know love until your kid starts drawing pictures of you, like how you really look. Because kids are honest as fuck. But my baby has seen beauty in different forms, though he is used to my form. It gets a little awkward when he sees skinny girls and ask why they look like that." I said looking at the camera laughing while adding a little jewelry to the fit. "The moral is everyone is beautiful. It's ok to be insecure at times. But remember your a beautiful ass bitch. Younger me would've never walked outside in this crop, but I'm so glad I've been able to see myself how I should."I walk out the room grabbing my keys.

I am making my way to the front of my apartment to grab my diaper bag and get snacks. "Cameron likes to wake craving these pocky things and will literally whoop my ass I'd they aren't there." I reach for my jacket and grab my son and walk out the door. I place Cameron inside od his car seat and place the diaper bag right next to him. He placed his blanket on top of him. It's amazing that he is still sleeping. Before I go to the grocery store, I drive to a pop up Cafe. I need some caffeine to survive this day. I get there looking outside to see that the sky is getting dark, hinting that it will rain soon. So I sit in the car waiting for a while. "So yall I stopped by a Cafe, we are waiting cuz it looks like it's about to fucking pour. I don't know why I said we, cam, is still knocked out. I remember watching some girl talking about how she gave her kids melatonin to sleep. Isn't that like drugging your kids, though? Like ahit I want mine to sleep too, but imagine giving them a gummy snack, and that shit is laced. That is wild."

I look out the window, noticing my dumbass should enter this cafe now before it starts raining or gets crowded. I turn off the car and grab my keys while looking into the rear view mirror at Cam. "Yea, so I thought this part was gonna be easy. I just like to gaslight myself." I step out of the car and open the backseat door and try to carefully grab my son without waking him up. I successfully achieved my goal , grabbed his blanket, and threw it over his body, just in case it started to go to rain. I walk into the shop and get in line while looking at the menu. The line is pretty long. I might be here for a while.

"She is adorable." I hear a voice say behind me, and turn around and see a woman. She is beautiful, I can't tell her age. What I am able to tell is her obvious attraction, with her continuing to bite her lower lips while staring at me. She is giving off an aura of pure confidence while I do enjoy it. It would be quite fun to play with her. "Well, thank you, but she is actually a male," I state and watch her eyes go wide, and she becomes embarrassed. "I'm so sorry. I just thought he was a girl." "No it's cool. Most people assume he is a girl, I don't know if it's cause of the curly hair or the fact that he looks like me." I say slightly, laughing to make sure she doesn't get too anxious.

"You're right. He truly does look like his gorgeous mother. Looks run in the family, I can tell." I make eyes at her. Wow, it seemed I've found a bold one. "Awe, that cute, I'll let you have that one." She smiles it off before I realize that line has shortened. Making me the next person in line. I order a chocolate chip muffin, one of Cam's favorite just in case he wakes up and wants some of it. And ice vanilla latte. I smile at the batista and wait for her to tell me the price. When she does, I move to grab my card before the mysterious women behind me speak up. "Could you add an iced tea with that, and I'll be playing. Thanks." I turned around making eye contact with her, and now I didn't expect that to be her next move. She gestures me to a table. And I look her up and down before deciding to take a seat. I'm checking on Cam to see if he is still resting well. He is.

"You didn't have to pay for that." "Oo I know, but I thought it would leave a lasting impression." She states while smirking, I laugh managing to keep my volume to a minimum. "So you think you can buy me?" Before she can answer, the waiter comes up and gives us both our orders. We both bow slightly and say thank you. Managing to say it at the same time and laughing as the women walks away.

I'm Tiana, by the way, and the little man that you mistook for a girl is Cameron. As you can see, he is so tired, guess that what happens when Mama extends bedtime." She smiles before saying, "Well, like I said, I'm sorry about the whole gender thing."It's like 2023, I could get you canceled for that. You know." We both laugh again. Before I take a sip of my latte. "I'm Monika Shin. Nice to meet you." I move over to shake her hand. "Well, you've never heard of me," I look at her puzzled. I smirk. "Does that always work for you?"

She laughs, "I am quite famous and known around these parts, so usually ma'am." I stare her down before looking at her lips. "You know most people see the baby and then lose interest." She chuckled while finally taking a sip of her drink. "And most people would know who I am, so i guess I'm not most people, "So what I'm hearing is you think you got a chance, that's cute. Well then, let's see, huh?"

#street woman fighter 2 #swf2 #street woman fighter x reader #monika shin #monika shin x reader

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theguyinthemathexamples · 1 year

Text

been a long while since I've been back, so here's something before i disappear again ✌️

so here and now, i would like to introduce to you all,

The Levels Of Self Awareness in SAGAU

(aka, the ones I've seen so far)

Warning(s): Cursing(probs), possible misinformation?, not really accurate?, my opinions, my humour and experience, and more.

Not proofread, we die like Guizhong in the Archon War.

1. None. Just- Just none.

As the name suggests, none. Just your average game.

No, literally, there's nothing to worry about here.

No worrying about getting sucked in while you're sleeping or anything of the like.

Nothing strange happens (for now) while you're playing, nothing like that.

No extra items, no extra friendship exp, no extra anything.

It's best to savour it while you still can.

2. "Since when did i get that??"

This is when the "getting extra stuff" and/or "extra luck" happens.

Either your characters have been doing some offcam grinding themselves, or you've just been collecting stuff for a while now and haven't really looked into your bag other than to switch gadgets.

Normally, you probably just caught one crystalfly, and yea it shows that, but either 1. it shows you got multiple, or 2. you have a tiny bit/alot more crystalflies in ur bag the last time you checked.

Maybe that's what they want you to think, who knows.

You'd also probably get lucky with a pull or more - usually nothing more than ten or so.

Your characters would also glitch a lil. Things like the sudden cancelling of idle animations, not switching onto the character you want/need, accidental skill/burst activation, and more.

Though, those only happen on occasion. It's not common enough for you to notice and just interpret as misclicks, but also rare enough to set off a raised eyebrow or red flag inside of you.

Nothing happens out of the ordinary outside of your phone.

Apps like Youtube, Google, Chrome, Photos/Gallery, etc. aren't tampered with.

You're good ... As long as the characters don't break through the 636f6465, that is.

3. "Yo," - Kaeya, 2022

It's probably time to delete and redownload Genshin at this point.

You might see hints of you - i.e statues, your favorite color/thing appearing here and there, characters mentioning someone by "Their/His/Her Grace" or some other title, etc.

Your Gallery might be affected, a few photos of a character and/or a view from Genshin.

Getting extra stuff also (probably) gets more frequent

Either you get them through mail or it just gets sent to your storage/bag directly.

The character glitches also happen a lil more frequently.

Oh, you wanted [thing] but didn't have the chance to do so? Don't worry, we'll get it for you, Your Grace. Just occupy yourself with some other miscellaneous tasks and you'll have it in no time.

Your luck also increases a lil more.

The character you've wanted for some time now but didn't get the chance to get them before? Yep, you guessed it, you lost your 50/50 atleast 4 times now.

Lmao I'm kidding

But seriously, if it's what you've been wanting for some time now, you're at least bound for one or a few 50/50 losses (unless you're guaranteed)

It's also why you (probably) get that one unwanted 5* because you wanted to try your luck/build pity.

Jealousy runs in the family, as they say. It's almost unavoidable, really. (looks at my lost 50/50s)

Hey, don't blame them! They were just... excited that you wanted to even pull on their banner, y'know?

Level them up and ascend them to level 20. I dare you.

I mean hey, atleast you'll get a free acquiant fate after you ascended them.

It only takes 7 Hero's Wit, 1 Wanderer's Advice, and their ascension mats.

It's basically a win/win, is it not?

You get a free fate, they get strength. It's fair for everyone.

You don't even have to give them a new weapon or any artifacts! Just leveling them up will do the job, will it not?

4. Caught You Slippin'

Oh, and if the Barbatos statue at Mondstadt actually changed into you, it's best if you just, yk, just look at the first • on this #.

It's too late to turn back now.

This is the "isekai" part of SAGAU, aka, where most fics take place.

This might be a major jump from the previous #, but hey, i started making this at 5AM.

But besides that, what AU you end up is all based on chance.

I'm sure you get the gist of this #. If you don't, i don't blame you.

Remember that one machine in Albedo's cave? That big rectangle/oval one? You don't? Good cuz neither do i.

Either you got sucked in and woke up somewhere in Teyvat, or you woke up to a bunch of hot people staring at you.

This part of the post is very sensitive to change, so I can't really say much here.

Just know that if you manage to find yourself at this point, you probably don't have a chance in getting back to your normal life without getting atleast a tiny bit of trauma.

C/N: Yea, it's me Your broy, chips ahoy, Cake.

Didn't expect me to post, did you? Well, you probably did, but hey, i like imagining nonexistent things

Anyways, have this while u still can cause i'm going back to nap again

Oh wait right i just remembered i haven't done my commissions

Nevertheless, thank you for all of your patience.

Peace — ★

#fool's flour °#scaled vanilla extracts °#silver lined strawberries ♪#stellar-borne cookies and cream ♪#genshin impact #sagau #genshin impact sagau #what else can i tag #i got lazy at the end #sorry lol #still thinking about those times scara and alhaitham said smth that wasn't part of their voicelines #oh well #i made this instead of sleeping

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fakesimp · 1 year

Note

Shu yamino being a total simp for you, yea.

Imagine how this dork would try to court you, how he'd have this silly smile everytime you walk by or when you two were done talking, how he'd blush from the slightest of your perfume scent, how he'd bribe your friends to tell them your favorite foods or things you'd want for your birthday, just absolutely head over heels for you..

Only to have you confess to him first

Can be a prequel to this too!

This is so cute, I love it.

Shu Yamino Hcs !

Warning !

Fluff ; Highschool Au ! ; Prequel of "I, messed up-" , With Shu Yamino

A/n !

I'll write a bit of headcanons for you and the others to enjoy! I hope you don't mind, hehe (⁠人⁠*⁠´⁠∀⁠｀⁠)⁠｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+

I guess, I can say this could be the prequel of the fic. Depends on how you wanna see it. (⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧

➶◜◝➴

Shu Yamino, would definitely help you whenever you need help, or even simplest thing that you probably don't need help with he'll help you. Just because he want to spend time together with you.

Shu Yamino, would definitely help you with math if you have difficulties with it. He's literally explaining it in streams before, come on, don't deny it. He's a smart kid.

Shu Yamino, once he realized he developed feelings for you. He's going to be more fidgety around you. But of course he won't show it, he's hiding it so well that you don't even realize he liked you more than a friend !

Shy ! Shu Yamino whenever you talk to him or ask him about something, he would stop whatever he's doing to look over at you and focus on you only.

"Hm? ..Oh hey, what's up? ..oh, uh huh? I see I see, well how about ...."

Ever since Shu knew he liked you more than a friend, you are plaguing his mind.

Would unconsciously start looking around for you if he haven't seen you.

Once he do his face would lighten up and his signature V-shaped smile would slowly rise on his face.

Shu will remember every, detail, you said, what you like, dislike, anything that you said to him about yourself.

He's taking a mental note to himself, and when your birthday comes, he would buy you your favorite things.

And would say it's a coincidence when you asked how he knew that you wanted the thing he bought for your birthday present.

Shu Yamino is such a dork, that him realizing he liked you is thanks to his friends. If not he won't realize he have feelings towards you.

They have to literally point it out, numerous times. At first he was in denial, until he slowly realized it himself.

Shu Yamino would definitely notice the change of your perfume if you changed it. And would shyly ask you why you changed it.

And he would definitely, accidentally, spat out that he liked the previous one.

"The last one smells pretty nice- eh- wait- shoot I- That shouldn't have happened, Ignore what I said--"

He would be so red after he realized what he said.

And if you laughed at him he would be more flustered than he already is.

But the next day, if you decided to use the perfume he mentioned yesterday. He's not going to miss it, he will notice it. But this time, he will just keep his mouth shut about it.

He's just trying not to fluster himself again in front of you, really..

It took him a damn while for introducing you to his close friends, because he knew, he will never rest from his friends' teases.

But his friends are very welcoming !

Ever since Shu introduced you to his friends, they often invite you to eat together with them. Even hangouts !

His friends will definitely tell you somethings you don't know about Shu, of course they will tell something about him with his consent.

You learnt new stuff from his friends, mostly good ones though.

Everything was fine, it went well for him and for you.

That is until you confessed.

A/n !

There we go ! The prequel ! Of the fic ! In headcanon form..

Hope you all enjoyed it !

#nijisanji en x reader #nijisanji x reader #nijisanji en #nijisanji #luxiem x reader #luxiem #shu yamino x reader #shu yamino #➴ fakesimp writing for you #fakesimp replies #fakesimp writing

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pixelchills · 8 days

Note

Hi hope you have a good day! this is regarding sams- hope is ok!mostly on the AU views- as anon told you- the show seems "family center" yet also in a lore episode we get another character admit that "being brothers is a rather rare thing to happend" making it canon that many different relationships can happen -- not only that- the show itself has been showing time and time again many "dimentions" where people is different! so yea! you will be safe (the lore itself is a mess so is all good)

Hahah, yeah! I'm honestly glad the show has established that every AU and relationship is welcome to exist, because of the limitless multiverse! The show is just the "family universe". The next universe might be exactly the same, except for a one tiny change, and so on. Every choice the characters make splits into multiple other universes.

But I have seen that not many fans of the show get that. Which is honestly really sad, because the canon seems to include a lot of dimension travelling, so having AUs based on the show where things go a bit differently isn't a sin, it's what fandoms are made of.

And I happen to enjoy those AUs that aren't canon to the channel, because tbh, at this point I know way more about the AUs of the fics I've been reading, as I haven't watched many episodes since Old Moon's death lol.

I genuinely hate that a lot of fandoms nowadays also seem to think that "if it isn't canon, it shouldn't exist and we need to go and bark at people about it". Which as a fandom veteran, is absolutely ridiculous.

Fandom is mostly about playing pretend. You can call yourself a fan of something if you enjoy it. But fandoms form from the endless possibilities of twisting the canon to fit ones needs.

For me it's shipping characters and writing fluffy and angsty stories about characters falling in love or being in love.

For someone else it might be genderbending the characters. Or making them open a coffee shop. Or make non-organic characters organic, or humans. Fandom is always about playing pretend. It never erases canon. And it never needs to be canon.

I wish people would just let others to enjoy things the way they want without trying to fight and hate ships and character interpretations just because it's "not canon".

#asks #tsams #fandoms #pixel talks

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not-goldy · 4 days

Note

i would say im a jjk and all i have to say is that jungkook's tunnel vision, who it's directed at for a very long time, it's jimin and it's actually godamn hilarious to see a certain group of people run with such baseless narratives even now, a lot of them still haven't been able to acknowledge gcf in tokyo for what it is, take it at its face value as it pretty much just erases every fantasy they have of this ideal reality that they wish for certain members and it's been like what 7 years, 7 years of evading the obvious and on top of that they now have to deal with the companion enlistment, it's almost entertaining to see them scramble for a theory, another one of those wack theories they can latch onto for years in order for their fantasy to live on.....but it's such a shame when supposed solos of either jk/jm go to such insane lengths to pretend that those two don't like each other, it just shows that they truly don't know them beyond how they want to perceive them especially when they bring up certain past mistakes made by naive young people navigating a very unfamiliar environment, there's about 80% of their private personal experiences that we as fans aren't privy to, do these people honestly think jungkook and jimin haven't talked or discussed about their personal feelings in regards to how they feel towards the way they treat each other in any occasion or worked through their problems or established boundaries within their relationship, do these people think jungkook and jimin are still teens, that they haven't grown in the past years to known their own worth or do they just pretend not to see how deep jikook's bond has grown over the years, i'm a jungkook stan through and through and i've seen the shift in the way he shows his affection towards jimin, it's gotten much more mature and bolder and i don't have the right to define it further but such a thing doesn't happen just magically, you don't just choose to enlist with someone just because they asked you to, it involves two people, just like how a relationship involves two people and they've worked through it, communicated when needed to, grown, explored the depths of it in their own terms and which is why they've settled into a dynamic that is so profoundly visible and grounding to both of them, which is also why they are so in tune to each other's thought process and emotions, it happened over time, it's been over 10 years, 10 years, nobody can erase that and if someone willingly chooses to ignore it and bring up past mistakes/weave false narratives when they can't accept reality they'll just have live in denial for the rest of their lives

Now this right here

Yea. What JJK Anon said

Also being a JJK who understands and appreciates Jikook's bond is so shekshie. Marry me🤭🤭🤭

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cod-dump · 10 months

Note

HEY!!! So, I just want to you are an inspiration to writing everywhere and I love your stuff? And if it isn't too much I would like to know, can you rank all the best 141 Ships in one massive list? Personally SoapGhost at top, but I want to see what you think

Ranking the ships? Oh boy--

This is a good opportunity for me to show how I feel about some ships.

Keep in mind I ranked them by how I feel about them personally (also I put down as many as I could think of and if I missed one then I'll happily add on)

Has been edited, ships added

___

Soap/Ghost: Good ship, absolutely love it. Height diverse, canon banter that I can go over all day and not get bored, angst potential-- Have written so much for this ship and I'm not tired of it yet. Good ship, 10/10.

Alejandro/Rudy: Fucking LOVE this. They give off 'married for ten plus years and happily in love'. I want to write more for them because I fucking love them so much. 10/10, good ass ship.

Konig/Horangi: I admit I don't look into this ship as much but I do like what I see people write for them. I like them, good potential for fics, would like to write for at some point. 8/10.

Price/Nik: Yes, married for several years, knows each other better than themselves. I want/need to write more for them because I do like this ship. 10/10.

Price/Graves: Yes, fucking love it. So much potential of what you can do with it. I have written somethings for it and definitely plan on writing so much more. 10/10, fuck yes.

Price/Ghost: Not my favorite. 4/10

Price/Gaz: Not my favorite but I don’t have any problems with it. 5/10

Price/Soap: Not bad but I don’t have any ideas for it. 5/10.

Soap/Konig: Oh yes, I like this. 'Enemies to lovers'. I have so many ideas for this ship but I haven't written any fics on them yet. Definitely on my to do list. 10/10.

Ghost/Konig: Yes, big boy on big boy violence affection. 'Enemies to lovers'. Have a lot of ideas for them but I haven't written anything down yet. 8/10.

Farah/Alex: I like them, I think they're cute. I also think Alex is whipped and does whatever Farah wants to make her happy. Awesome malewife/girlboss relationship. 10/10.

Valeria/Graves: You know she tops. God, I can imagine them being the bitchiest couple on the face of the planet. They're so toxic yet it works for them. Would write for, have some ideas for them. 6/10.

Valeria/Alejandro: I mean, I love scornful ex-lovers just like anybody else. Maybe they were once pretty healthy in the past but they're definitely pretty toxic, too. Would write for if given a prompt (or if I get inspired all the sudden). 7/10.

Valeria/Rudy: GOD-- so many ideas involving past lovers, Valeria aiming to use Rudy to hurt Alejandro, just plan toxic ideas. Would write if requested or if I get randomly inspired. 8/10

Ghost/Rudy: Have written this before, I think it's cute. I haven't seen much for them, sadly. Might write this again (on my own or prompted). 8/10

Soap/Alejandro: Like the ship above, I think it's cute. I would write stuff for it. Bromance turned romance. 8/10

Price/Graves/Nik: FUCK YES. God, the brainrot is strong with this one. Love them so much, have so many ideas for them. Probably will never tire of them, OT3. 10/10.

Nik/Graves: God I have ideas for this one. Fuck yea new ideas to plague me in the middle of the night. 10/10.

Soap/Gaz: Yes, gimme. 'Friends to Lovers', good shit. Lots of fluff, silly shenanigans, all the good stuff. 10/10.

Gaz/Alex: Yes, love this. Cute as fuck. I can see a adorable slow burn romance, bromance to romance, didn't know they were dating-- I got ideas for it. Would love to write for it. 10/10.

Ghost/Gaz: Yes, I actually really like this one. Again, I see no content for it and it makes me sad. Love to write for it and put this ship out there. Some good, angsty slow burn. 10/10.

Farah/Gaz/Alex: I find adorable. I love this so much. Would write for happily. I haven't seen much content for them sadly (maybe it's because I don't look hard enough). Good ship, 10/10.

Alejandro/Valeria/Rudy: Got some pretty good ship ideas for this. Good ass angst with some fluff. The good stuff right here. Definitely could see this being a past relationship that ended badly, leaving two of them (or maybe all three) heartbroken. 8/10

Soap/Gaz/Ghost: Absol-fucking-lutely. Love this shit right here so much. I need to write more for it because it's a shame there's not more content for it. 10/10.

Price/Gaz/Soap/Ghost: I do like this oddly enough. I like them all together for some reason. 7/10

Ghost/Roach: Yes, I love this shit. Good angst potential, good past lovers potential. 'Lovers to friends to lovers' shit right here. 10/10

Soap/Roach: The chaos, the trouble they could get into-- Yes, absolutely. Good shit right there. Love to see it and would definitely write for it. 10/10.

Soap/Roach/Ghost: Yes, god yes. So many ways do make this happen. Angst, fluff, smut-- all that you possibly need in a ship. Fucking beautiful, love to see it, definitely would love to write it at some point. 10/10,

Soap/Gaz/Roach: Yes, yes, and yes. Good shit right here, cute and fluffy (though I could make it angsty if I tried). Silly shenanigans, chaos, all the good stuff. 10/10.

Soap/Gaz/Roach/Ghost: I haven't seen anything for this but I think it's cute and works. 8/10.

Soap/Graves: Good angst potential here, 'friends to lovers to enemies'. Would write for, been thinking of writing for it. 7/10.

Ghost/Graves: Much like the one above, very good. Angst is perfect, many ideas for this ship. Would love to write more for it. 7/10.

Soap/Ghost/Konig: Yes, I like this. Have several spicy ideas for it, a lot of drama. Haven't written anything for it yet but I would like to. 9/10.

Farah/Valeria: Toxic lesbian enemy to lovers? Mhmm yes. 7/10

Makarov/Yuri: Toxic ex lovers. Bad, manipulative situation that Yuri could fall back into because Makarov can read him like an open book. 6/10

Shepherd/Death: 10/10, OTP.

___

Used 10/10 rating because I couldn't even think of how I would rank them. If I missed any you would like to see tell me and I'll rate them.

(no particular order because I rated them as I thought of them)

#call of duty #cod mwii #modern warfare ii #ships #ship ratings #ask #thanks for the ask <3

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